34
I hovered at the open door of Guruji’s house before walking in.
‘Come in, Krish,’ Guruji said. He sat on a day-bed in his living room. I had
thought I’d be roaming around French cafés in Pondicherry. I had no idea I’d end
up in a guru’s house. The tiny house had sparse wooden furniture.
‘You may find it strange to be here. But I’d like to think we were destined to
meet,’ Guruji said.
‘Do you read minds?’ I wanted to know.
‘I read people. Your nervousness is obvious. Sit,’ he said and stroked his white
beard.
I sat cross-legged on the floor, facing him.
‘What is bothering you?’
‘My girlfriend is Tamilian, I am Punjabi. Our families are against our marriage. I
am doing whatever I can, but it is stressful.’
‘Hmmm,’ Guruji said. ‘Close your eyes and speak whatever comes to mind.’
‘I love her,’ I said, ‘and we make each other happy. But if our happiness makes
so many people unhappy, is it the right thing to do?’
I rambled for some more time; Guruji didn’t make any sound. Since my eyes
were closed, I had no idea if he was even around anymore. ‘She is my future,’ I
concluded.
‘Is that all?’
‘You are there?’ I countered.
‘Are you sure this is the only problem that is bothering you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘There is a lot of ... pain in you, unresolved issues. Before you build a future,
you must fix the past.’
‘What are you talking about?’ I opened my eyes. Guruji’s eyes were shut.