This is about a healer waxing lyrically whilst bending my ears on a beach in Goa. It was just one look and like we had known each other forever. Many people have the gift of the Third Eye in India; usually Muslims and they have a habit of honing in on me. I suppose I am an open book but anyway the man in question having made eye contact came over to my sun bed and enquired whether I wanted my ears cleaning. The man who knows all woke from his slumber and said, "No way!" The ear bender carried on his patter regardless and gave me diagrams of the inner sanctum of the ear and Eustachian tube. Hmmm, not too pretty as postcards go but he was not deterred and gave me all his credentials plus reams of glowing recommendations from past victims.
He seemed such a lovely man in as much as he had a wonderful aura and so I looked at Him Who Knows All and enquired whether it would be OK for me to have them done. He grunted and said that they were my ears and he went back to a reclining pose. The holy man made me sit at the end of my sun bed and grabbed my ear, turning my head so it filled with sunlight. It was exceptionally hot but I was not able to put a hat on in order not to obscure the sun. He did look holy due to being dressed in white and wearing a form of skullcap as well as sandals - the former on his tiny head and the latter at the bottom of his flowing gown and on his feet.
I had no idea what would happen but when he pulled a 12-inch needle from his bag of tools, I began to have doubts about this procedure. By this time it was too late and the needle went into my ear, gently though, as far as it would go before reaching an obstruction. The holy man told me to relax which I did and the needle carried on its way down my tube. It did not hurt at all and after some fiddling, he withdrew the needle after which he put some drops into my ear. Then he got a pair of long tweezers and they went in too much to my horror. He pulled them back out with a huge lump of, well you do not want to know, but suddenly I could hear the wind whistling and the sea whispering a crescendo. He diddled about with a stick and cotton wool and each time he did some cleaning he took the cotton wool off the stick and threw it onto the beach. It was rather a turn off to see piles of cotton wool buds on the sand.
The next ear, or last one, was what made him work for his money. Due to having brain surgery last year and an ensuing CSF leak, that ear was pretty well gunged and he was at it for hours.
I was past caring about my ears because my head was being fried and all the time the quantity of cotton wool built up on the beach until he was satisfied that he had finished my ear bending. It was worth the discomfort, not on the ears but in the shape of a cricked neck and pulled earlobe because he had been holding that ear for such a long time.
It was as if a fog had lifted, if that is possible, because I could hear again perfectly and was totally balanced again in mind and body. You do not realise how a bunged up ear affects the equilibrium but everything was perfect again after he enlightened my ear. His next move was to lighten my purse because although things are cheap in India a tradesman will always ask a fair price. Everyone who had been watching the whole operation gasped at the price but the time he spent on my ears and the difference it made was worth every rupee. He probably earned a lot of money in comparison to most people as many people have their ears bent in India although he perhaps does not charge the locals at the going tourist rate.
A man on the sun bed next door told me that I was brave and had boosted the economy. He then started chatting and had a sister in England who was very wealthy due to her residency being in the suburbs of London. One thing led to another and he accused me of not being able to cook although I cannot imagine why he thought that. I denied this and pointed out that I was a good cook, to which he went "Pah, you are only learning." After last year's turmoil, I thought he had some front and told him that I was still learning about life, which was harder to do than cook. He gave up at this point and then the fruit seller butted in so I bought some passion fruit merely because I had never had any before. What a strange fruit, it was soft shelled, filled with grey jellified pips and had an indescribably but disappointing flavour. Then he said that people did not bother him because he was Indian or one and wore sunglasses for another, which prohibits people making eye contact with you in order that they can give you an ear bending.
So, let that be a lesson, always wear very dark glasses and do not listen to whispers in the wind or it could well be that you too will get the ear bending of a lifetime. Ah, it has been a year full of firsts and you are not 50 very often in life so I guess you have to start somewhere and as life is for living and listening to your gut feelings, not rumblings though as they can tell a thousand tales especially in Delhi. My excuse was that I am a sucker about the unusual and I had never had passion fruit before although I admit to always lightening my purse so the contents are not there to have or hold for long.
