rauri
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Bhakta
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# Posted: 17 Jan 2007 09:49
From K. Rushby's book which I am reading - The Children of Kali.
This passage made me smile. Kevin meets a Gurkha soldier who is
returning home to Nepal.
The author has been studying the history of the thugs (i.e. deceivers) rather too much and finds himself becoming like one.
Of the soldier.
Quote:
"He was full of questions about me.
'Does rice grow well in London? Are you in service? Do you stay in
hotels in India?' He never had.
'Do they provide ladies for sex?'
I said I thought some might be able to, but I'd never asked. He snuggled
up even closer. 'You think maximum sex is good for health?'
'What is maximum sex?'
He ignored this, 'How many times you are having sex?'
'Oh, every day,' I said casually.
He looked disappointed. 'So you don't have maximum sex?'
That was an irritating thing for him to have said after I had been so
obviously honest with him. I demanded to know what maximum sex might be.
'Two or three times per day.'
Reasonable, I thought. He was obviously bursting with sexual energy
after six months and I hoped his wife was too. But I had completely
misjudged him; in fact, he was building up to a confession.
'Brother, I take one peg of whisky and I cannot do maximum sex. My wife likes sex too much. She wake me up for maximum sex every night for two months.
What can I do? How to make good sex?'
I became very wise and knowledgeable. 'Well obviously you should not
hurry. Better to do it once a day, and do it well, than rush through and
do three bad ones.' I suppose a sharper listener might have detected
some nettled pride in that.
I continued. 'Let your wife enjoy it. Go slow.'
He shook his head. 'My wife enjoy too much already. She want maximum sex and I am tired. Long journey - five days! I am very tired and take one peg. Ah!
His face was full of woe and I wanted to help. I didn't like to think of
this warrior running out of ammunition so quickly in the Himalayas.
'There is no big secret...'
He grabbed my arm. 'Big Secret. What is that? Big Secret? Is it powder
or pills.'
'No I said there is no big secret.'
'You don't have Big Secret? In your bag. maybe a little one for me?
'Give me one piece Big Secret.'
His face pleaded and I couldn't think what to do.
'I don't have any big secret. Sorry.'
'I will pay you money,' he said reaching into the breast pocket of his
fatigues. 'I will pay Indian rupees not Nepali. How much for one piece
Big Secret?'
He pulled a wad of 10 rupee notes and began counting them. The man was
desperate.
I'm not proud of what I did next. It was probably, on the strictest
criteria unethical. Afterwards, I wondered about the risks of damage to
the poor mans psyche. Or perhaps there was success and a subsequent
rising demand for a product that did not exist. If the latter is true. I
would like to call on entrepreneurs to pull out all stops to do what is
necessary, to get out to eastern Nepal and market Big Secret.
I told him to put away his money, then reached into my bag and got hold
of a packet of paracetamol. Concealing the label with my hand, I pressed
four of them into his shaking palm.
'One a day,' I said seriously. 'Never two. An overdose could be err,
dangerous. I mean really dangerous - do you understand me? For your
wife.'
He nodded furiously. tearing a corner from a newspaper and folding the
pills into it. 'Thank you,' he said. 'Thank you brother.'
He stuffed them into his pocket and buttoned it up.
I felt like a thug who had just administered a dangerous drug to an
over-trusting travelling companion."
rauri |
