It was quite comical. By this time gas from the granola bar was beginning to act up and I asked him what he wanted. He said the manager had sent him to check on my Internet connection and see if there was any abnormal activity.

I asked what he meant by ‘abnormal activity’. He looked upset by my gruff question. He said he was only trying to respond to my complaint with the reception.

I clarified that there was no complaint and that I had only wanted to know download speeds the apartment Internet offered. And then I told him to come back later in the evening when I was back from office. He said ok and was about to leave when he suddenly asked me if I was Indian.

I told him I was. He said he was also Indian and had just joined the hotel as IT manager recently. Then he asked me where I worked. I told him that I would talk to him in the evening, as I was busy right now. (My stomach was going to explode …)

He said ok. Immediately I slammed the door shut. Then I leaned against the door and let my gas go.

Diary, that granola bar might look small. But it is very very powerful. It went on like that at very high volume for at least one minute. I didn’t have to do anything but just stand like that against the door.

When I finished I heard a knock on the door.

That IT fellow was still standing outside. I asked him when he came back.

He told me he had never left.

For a few minutes I did not know what to say to cover up my embarrassment. Then, thinking on my feet quickly, I told him that I was sorry to keep him waiting like that but that I was engrossed in my extreme yogic pranayamic breathing exercises.

He told me that he wanted to tell me his name so that in the evening he could call into my room first before coming. (Polite fellow no?)

His name is Sugandh.

And now I can’t sleep.

Nervous as hell. Fingers crossed, Diary.

Irrespective of how things go I am definitely popping into that prayer group tomorrow. I feel a certain spiritual void in my being.

Focus. Focus. Breathe. Breathe.

See you later.

7.32 p.m.

Booming sounds of drums in the background. Cold rain falls in piercing needles. The water splashes and slides off the surface of the exposed shiny surfaces of the rocks on the cliff in the mountainous jungle. Just standing on these rocks is a choice between life and death. One wrong step and you could slip off the edge and fall into the dense jungle below. If you survive the fall then the wild animals will rip you to shreds. And if you survive that, the insects and the disease will kill you.

You cannot slip. Slipping is certain death.