Shanti Travels, part 2.

Two days later 7.30 in the morning I saw this lady again sitting on the chai shop terrace. She recognized me and I went over for a chat. At a point she sais in between the obscurity that she has a plane ticketfor that day !! Show me, I said. And yes, there it is, an e-ticket for a flight leaving at 5 to 9 in the evening from Chennai. Okay, if you want I’ll help to get you on that plane, I offered. She went along, to say it simple.
I gave up going to satsang (and for breakfast!) and followed the dedication to get this woman home. Fourteen hours later I would arrive back in Tiruvanammalai with the taxi that brought us to the airport. But first we had things to do. As the lady could hardly walk I ordered a rikshaw and then a series of events followed.
*We had the ticket confirmed as valid at Shanti Travels, where she had bought it.
*We picked up her pasport at the chai shop. It appeared that her whole travelling luggage     was there: She had packed a week before her flight date, convinced by the voices that her
room was not safe anymore. Sshe only dared go there with me:
*She basicly left all her stuff in the room behind. I asked if she had enough clothes and
underwear to change and why don’t you take a shower? And she did!
(Kumar had tipped me that in order for her to be accepted for the flight a wash up would
be a good idea).
*We went to a hospital. (A week before I had been there in search of plaster that I need for
my still eczemic feet, so that functioned as a rehearsal; it made it into a situation where I
was a familiar face for several faces in key positions). The doctor saw her, I asked for
sleeping pills too, which in the end came after me insisting and the doctor consulting a
supervising doctor because sleeping pills and psychosis can be a confliciting combi.
The doctor wanted to keep her in the hospital because the severity of the dripping
infection on her foot needed intravenous administering of antibiotics. I explained that
the lady needed to be prepared for travelling, etc, etc.
(It would take a Marcel Proust and maybe 40 pages to kind of fully describe the subtle
details in communication, the nurse going back to this doctor, insisting on my behalf,
every tiny smile, every upset,  every input from the surrounding being taken into
account and everything going by itself).
Then she was wheelchaired to a first aid room where a nurse started cleaning, desinfecting and bandaging the wounds. The nurse suggested that I sit in an adjoining room and I said no I stay with her. Half an hour later I smilingly asked: now you know why I stayed, right?
(Oh my, what an anger and outgoing violence there was. And a paranoid arrogance:                 I INSIST TO BE TREATED BY CERTIFIED PERSONEL, DON’T YOU TOUCH ME !!!).

*Bandaged and medicine supplied we rikshawed back to the travelling agency, where we       ordered a taxi for 2 o’clock that was to bring us to Chennai Airport and to later roll me
back to Tiru.
*Quick lunch at German Backery. (Quicker than then I have not got my food there 🙂 )
*Four hours drive to Chenai Airport. (worth a booklet in and of itself).
*One hour check in, where I made as much a story out of her as I could; had her be
picked up from the taxi with a wheelchair, spoke to managers, making them as important   as possible, making them confederates,, wrote a note for the cabin crews and gave her the
most condensed motivation course possible for the moment: Don’t trust your feelings,
don’t trust the voices, trust me. Trust me, I know you can do it. Have a good journey.
And that was it. At 7 she was wheeled out of sight and there was nothing more that I
could do. I cried, waited a bit for possible panic, relaxed and walked out.
*Also later in the taxi I cried. And had a great meal along the road.
(Two dosas and two coffees for Rs 60.)

The next morning Kumar from Shanti Cafe’s travelling agency (Shanti Travels), told me that according to the computer of SriLankan airlines, both boarding passes have been used and I wept. Now you and I know what happened: I got emotionally involved in this karmic
action and yeah, then we suffer. Snif, snif.

(to be continued)

hans