You wouldn't believe my Guruji. I am only allowed to call him Guruji or else the relationship is over. I can only point my feet in certain directions in his room. I must be absolutely punctual in my visits and phone calls. He has monkey friends. He speaks with them, dances with them, feeds them chickpeas. He takes care of everything for us, what we eat, where we live, what I'm wearing on my back right now... Heather and I have spent many hours with him already, mostly in silence, in his incredible, dark, ancient room. A room that was once utterly luxurious and ornate but seems to have been mouldering for millenia, seems to have housed a great conflagration stoked by fragrant, sooty logs, epochs ago. He hums to himself constantly, hangs his head askew (as if listening to something speaking to him from within his clavicle), and frequently nods "mmmm"s and "um-hmmm"s to himself. Heather: "Do you think he's just constantly hearing and responding to music going on in his head?" Somehow, we both trust him, and like him, very much.
I have only touched the tabla once, the first day, after he said, "I must see your hands." I am waiting for my own drums to be built, under Guruji's supervision: "I feel, just 5-6 days, mmm?" He has appointed us a "boy", a sort of fixer or handler, who is a 45-year-old man named Gopal. Gopal's wife cooks for us and accepts no money. Gopal speaks almost no English but still insists we call his mobile every day. Gopal forces food on us with more vigor than my Ukrainian grandmother.
We were led to Guruji the first day by one of his servants. Guruji was perched, sitting lotus-position, in a neck-height niche in a wall along a ridiculously narrow alley. His mouth distended and redolent with Paan (betelnut), he was dressed in an amazing, skin-like silk kurta that awed Heather. He was surrounded by disciples. He has servants, admirers, disciples everywhere. He is like some wiry Indian Godfather. Every day, when I'm with him, I feel like it's hundreds of years ago. This teaching method, the intense Indian Guru/Disciple method, is nearly dead. Only the old masters still teach this way.
Oh, and on the menu at a restaurant last night: "Chili con Polio"
