I won’t be snorting anything through this! A little poem about something I found in my wallet. Continue reading
Parmath Niketan ashram by the Ganges in Rishikesh was our base for a week after we escaped the 46 degree heat of the Indian desert. In the ashram we rested, ate incredibly healthily and practiced yoga.
Under a tree in the pretty, lush gardens by the yoga school (which is incidentally just next to the World Toilet College) Collette and I took a couple of hours to relax surrounded by the butterflies, colour shifting lizards, tropical birds and insects before we were rudely disturbed by the rhesus macaques. I was writing plenty of poems during the peace of this time and here is one inspired by the garden beasties.
Dessert has arrived. It’s confusing. An industrial block of ice cream. Some broken biscuits and a few bananas nudged in. Snapped Oreos are jammed in the side of the block and it’s finished with five butterflied satsuma segments, four raisins and a squabble of chocolate sauce. I’ve seen, ‘Hello To The Queen’ on every travellers’ menu since Fort Kochin. It seems to have some heritage here, but a quick Google suggests that no-one knows what it is, where it came from or how to make it. There was no, ‘Up Yours Elizabeth’. I’d have preferred that. I’m reminded of Blighty and I consider the forthcoming election. Continue reading