Good Strange Things vol. 2

By October I was in a sort of altered state most of the time. I don't mean on drugs other than caffeine, which was certainly part of my state, and the occasional after-work drink. I mean I was fatigued in a way that I knew wouldn't go away fully into I really got to rest, and I knew that would not happen until after the election. At that point the election was just starting to appear on the horizon, but it was still a ways off. I accepted this reality without argument, which made me more able to live with it, but the work day rarely sailed by. I would generally go to sleep relaxed and wake up the same way, but once the day started all bets were off. There were days that I felt like I wasn't holding up my own body, rather I was draping it over the structure implied by my schedule and my superiors expectations. When I took a break, I relaxed hard and hoped it lasted, because if someone came into the office, I would jump back up and greet them.

I was finishing up a late lunch, waiting for me to tell myself I needed to get back to work on October 11th (gmail search), when a small, middle-aged, Indian (from India) man came in and started peering at the various things on the walls of the Richmond County Democratic Headquarters. He didn't seem to require any assistance, nor did he really look like he was looking to volunteer, so I let him do his thing and enjoyed the end of my break.

Eventually I gave him a "Hi, can I help you?" or one of those. We exchanged pleasantries, and he mentioned that he was from India. I told him that I've been to India, which was a shock to him. A lot of Richmond Countians hadn't seen much outside of the Carolinas, let alone another continent, let alone Asia. All of a sudden we were having a spirited conversation. He talked about how he liked all the Democratic candidates, how he came from Mumbai to here because his son lives here and has a clothing shop (I think). We talked about India, Gandhi, the poet Rabindranath Tagore, the Ganges- at first he didn't know what I was talking about because I was saying "the Ganges", and to him it's "the Gunga."

We talked for a while, and by the time we were done I felt refreshed. We quietly appreciated each other for unexpectedly providing a conversation that neither of us could have had with anyone else in Richmond County. I really don't have a problem with your typical resident of the RC, but I had seen a lot of them over the last two months, and to meet someone who fit a completely different description was very refreshing. I think he mentioned meditation at some point, and he had a subtle wisdom that I associate with meditators. As for him, I can only speculate as to how long it had been since he'd met a stranger who had been to his homeland, but I expect those were few and far between.

Eventually the time came for him to go and for me to get back to work, and the conversation came to a natural end. He stepped toward the door and then stopped and turned around, to say something. At that moment it was like everything up to that point was leisure time, but there was one point of business- wise little Indian men don't just wander into your office for no reason after all. He had a message for me, and he wasn't going to leave until I heard it. I looked up at him, and he said this:"I am sixty years of age. I am very healthy. No diabetes, no heartburn, no (something)."

I asked him how he does it

"Vegetables and hard work."
Somehow that was the perfect conclusion to the whole thing. I never saw him again, nor did I need to. We had given each other a boost, and he had passed on a little piece of truth to me. I wouldn't get many more, but life was expected to be hard then, and a little something like that every week or so was all I needed.