A few weeks ago I was wandering through Oxford. Someone stopped me. It was a yoga monk. He told me I looked like a deep thinker, and open minded. Would I give him money for a little book about yoga, any amount I could afford. I declined, because he was probably going to use my money to fund his yogic habits. But he was very good looking, and for some reason I’m always attracted to these spiritual/religious types. I don’t know why. It just happens. They lure me in with their peaceful countenance. Perhaps I want them to teach me how to be peaceful too. But anyway. The monk. I daydreamed about the encounter on and off for the rest of the day. He said I was a deep thinker. Swoon. I do know it was a line he uses to get people to buy his little yoga books. But still, nothing wrong with a little fantasy.

Then, a few days ago, I was wandering through Maidenhead, a little town many many miles from Oxford, and who should I see but the monk, wandering around with a little rucksack, looking calm, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the chavs and the Saturday shoppers, a sea of heathens and consumers. I stared. He didn’t see me. Then I did something that seemed perfectly reasonable at the time, but now makes me cringe. I looked for him, and found him sitting in a quiet little place, looking contemplative. I SPOKE TO HIM. I told him I’d seen him before. He looked blanked. If monks feel fear then I’m pretty sure I saw fear in his eyes. He was nice enough I suppose, considering he had some crazy girl he didn’t recognize actually coming up to him and babbling like a drug addled loser. He was wearing a little cap, and twice he took it off to rub his bald head. I read somewhere that bald men do that for comfort. So I was evidently terrifying this poor monk, evidently shaking his years of yogic calm. I said a few things, then left. He looked confused. But you see, if I hadn’t said anything I would have regretted it. I thought about him for ages. Why? What did I think was going to happen? He lives in India for chrissakes. And he’s probably celibate, and he thinks I’m crazy. I entertained the possibility that he was a faker, a regular guy trying to cheat people into giving him money, but I do believe he was telling the truth. He just looked very peaceful.

If I were less cynical, I may think seeing a monk in 2 towns 30 miles apart, on 2 separate occasions, may be somewhat of a spiritual calling, or some kind of message. But no. If I see him again, then maybe I’ll reconsider. But for now I shall continue to be a heathen.