Ешь, молись, люби

Chapter 51

           Wewatchthecowsmillaboutenjoyingtheirsacredstatus(Ithinktheyactuallyabusetheprivilege,lyingrightinthemiddleoftheroadjusttodrivehomethepointthattheyareholy),andwewatchthedogsscratchthemselveslikethey’rewonderinghowthehecktheyeverendeduphere.Wewatchthewomendoingroadwork,bustinguprocksundertheswelteringsun,swingingsledgehammers,barefoot,lookingsostrangelybeautifulintheirjewel-coloredsarisandtheirnecklacesandbracelets.TheygiveusdazzlingsmileswhichIcan’tbegintounderstand-howcantheybehappydoingthisroughworkundersuchterribleconditions?Whydon’ttheyallfaintanddieafterfifteenminutesintheboilingheatwiththosesledgehammers?IaskMr.Panicarthetailoraboutitandhesaysit’slikethiswiththevillagers,thatpeopleinthispartoftheworldwereborntothiskindofhardlaborandworkisalltheyareusedto.

           "Also,"headdscasually,"wedon’tliveverylongaroundhere."

           Itisapoorvillage,ofcourse,butnotdesperatebythestandardsofIndia;thepresence(andcharity)oftheAshramandsomeWesterncurrencyfloatingaroundmakesasignificantdifference.Notthatthere’ssomuchtobuyhere,thoughRichardandIliketolookaroundinalltheshopsthatsellthebeadsandthelittlestatues.TherearesomeKashmiriguys-veryshrewdsalesmen,indeed-whoarealwaystryingtounloadtheirwaresonus.Oneofthemreallycameaftermetoday,askingifmadamwouldperhapsliketobuyafineKashmirirugforherhome?

           ThismadeRichardlaugh

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