Having waited for Ajit for several hours, because he had promised to return my photos, I decided that I would send squeeze a Fax, having only just realised that, unless Indian post was exceedingly quick, she wouldn’t have had sight nor sound of me since the I left on the 13th.
At a price of 120Rs per page I knew I was being ripped off – so I agreed 150Rs for two pages which the man at the corner shop agreed to. “Do you want to receive?” he asked. I thought this was a dumb question – if he had to get the fax machine out of the cupboard and had to plug it in before I could send – how could he possibly expect to receive? Clearly Indian logic.
Afterwards I went around to the art school for a beer with the boys – a sort of farewell drink – and a last opportunity to see more of their artwork.
Earlier that day I had eventually found Taldar Travels – the travel agent I had looked for a few days ago. Again I got completely lost – and lost my bearings – which rarely happens. I eventually worked out that the Rough Guide map was wrong, or at least it was a little sparse with factual landmarks.
I booked a seat on the bus to Jodhpur for 10pm the following night. I had eventually decided against Pushkar after Ajit told me it was full of drug addicts – which explained why people enjoyed staying there so long – it was the Amsterdam of India.
I would spend a couple of nights in Jodhpur before heading onto Jaisalmer by Train. 70Rs was a good price.
The boys showed me some of their cheeky erotic art, which only the elder boys were allowed to paint. Icons of various sexual positions, the odd group-sex image as well as a couple of threesomes.
“Why didn’t you show me these before?” I asked. I bought one ‘mounted’ as a greeting card to send to my parents – which I was sure they would find amusing.
As it turned out one of the boys was a palm-reader – so he read my fortune.
He said I was a very lucky person and that in late life I would be successful – indicated by a new freckle on my lifeline. I had had one serious relationship previously – but my current one would last for a long time; I would get married and have many children. The two moles on my left hand indicated luck and that the woman who finally married me would therefore be a lucky person too – inheriting my luck, and I hers. We would both be successful in later life; I would live to about 80-85 and have high blood pressure from the age of 75.
He told me all this at quite a pace – “Practice” he explained. I was impressed as a previous reading two years ago by a doddery old woman from London Bridge had revealed nothing quite as accurate.