Chapter 6 Chapter Six

My first impression of Boronis was to catch up with Xuanzang's "Da Tang Western Regions".It records Boronis, "Thursday is more than a thousand miles, the capital of the country is eighteen or nine miles long, and five or six miles wide. Luyan Jiebi is rich in people, with a huge amount of space, and a room full of rare goods." Xuanzang is a little bit Like Marco Polo?It's just that Marco Polo aroused the enthusiasm of Westerners for exploration, and Xuanzang only led to an endless book of jokes.The Chinese don't seem to love money very much, otherwise, I wouldn't be going to Boronis to chase Ananda now.

I think before the train arrives, I have to clear the mess in my head, I have to have space to hold the real Boronis, if Ananda is there, there will be too many stories, true and false entangled . It's not that I plan to walk along Xuanzang's road for a while. I am fascinated by the route in his book. He can always discover miracles and always have an affair. The affair between men and women is a general affair, and the affair I am talking about is sudden. Encountering pure beauty - that moment of joy in a strange world. I almost promised a publishing house to take a trip to Xinjiang last year because I was infatuated with this monk.At that time, I couldn't make up my mind to carry my travel bag because I was hindered by secular affairs, but it was still useful to make up some books and collect information related to monks during that time.I remember reading a piece of tantric advice, which is said to have come from India.

suddenly!Wei Zhaoxia, the head of the sacrifice horse.Day, eyes also.Wind, breath also.Mouth, the fire of the universe.In the year, the body of the horse is also sacrificed.God, back also.Two rooms, the void inside the abdomen; ground, the uplift outside the abdomen.Fang, threat also.Between the sides, the ribs are also.Morning, upper body also, dusk, lower body also.When it is understretched, it is lightning; when it shakes, it is thunder; when it is drowning, it is rain.Language, solid its sound also. And I went on to write down my reading experience: Eat more whole grains, less leftovers, thinking about the era of hunger.

Memorize favorite poems. Believe in love. Call your mother more often.If not, at least keep her in mind. In the fish tank, a red fish died.I was sad and starved to death.Feed quickly.Sad.Then it is right not to have children: children have three strengths and two weaknesses, and making up for one will not be as simple as a fish. I remember that day when the fish starved to death, my husband said that I couldn’t even feed the fish, so could I still feed people?He laughed at my incompetence, not specifically my reluctance to have children.Children are the inner youth of a woman. With children, this woman is forever young. Without children, this woman will grow old in a day.I understand that the fact that I missed my child was purely a play of fate, and it was a wound that would not heal.So I can't take what I said to my husband as an insult.Fish is fish, man is man, it is clear.

Look at the women he's looking for, almost all of them are of a completely different type from me: older, plain, fat, uneducated, and untidy.It is very likely that he has a physical relationship with them, because the sexual relationship is good, and he does not need to care about other relationships.I don't care about this either, it's his aesthetics and values.When I came to India, he knew it and said: travel is travel, writing is writing, and it is not bad to have both.He didn't vote against it entirely, but said that if I needed him, he was willing to help.I wish I could look at him from another angle. He is heavy, and a woman is a heavy spine.The more I became familiar with Curry, the more I recognized the relationship between him and me.

I remember Sophie told me that she especially liked India. I thought she was fantasizing because she said she had never been to India and just admired Indian dance very much.The level of Indian music is very high, close to the realm of meditation. At that time, I encouraged her to continue talking, but I thought in my heart that she just watched a few Indian movies, which are also the professional needs of the media industry. Sure enough, she said: Have you seen the works of Indian director Raj?His early film, "Music Salon," is stunningly beautiful.I don't want to hear the following words.Saying that movies reflect reality is like saying I can find Ananda in a train window.

But when I think about it now, talking about the Sophie in India, she is another one who is careful, thoughtful, calm, and has no fights or demands. It is the Sophie who I keep talking to in my heart. She is the only one who understands me better. bosom girlfriend.So, what was she thinking at the time? The train arrived at Boronis almost on time at 5:15 in the evening.I carried my luggage to the platform, and when I saw the people who picked me up and got off the bus squeezed past me, my heart felt frightened.Retired Colonel Singh, where are you?Although Boronis is not as big as Xuanzang said, it is still a maze: I need to get a local map and accommodation information immediately.Fortunately, the service office in the train station was not yet closed, and the staff were friendly and thoughtful. I got a lot of printed materials such as city maps, sightseeing spots, hotels, shopping, and tricycle rentals.

I took out my phone, but there was no signal.After restarting, it is still the same. The train station building has three floors, and I couldn't find a place where I could make international long-distance calls, so I had to come out.I was anxious to know Sophie's reaction to my arrival in Borones.I can't wait to find a hotel to stay and connect online.It's not cheap to call Hong Kong here. After walking for five minutes, there were tricycle rickshaws and peddlers in a row, and finally saw the STD-ISD-PCO sign on the roadside grocery store, which can make long-distance calls.The fat female shopkeeper helped me carry my luggage into the store, let me sit on a chair, and handed me a cup of tea. "You are so beautifully dressed." Her English was quite pleasing to the ear.

It was only then that I noticed that I was wearing a purple punjabi I bought in Agra and it fit me perfectly.Indian clothes made my figure look slimmer too.Moreover, the skirt is embroidered with fine workmanship, the collar is a Chinese cheongsam style, and the scarf is casually draped over the chest.I wear flat embroidered slippers on my feet, which have a flowing aesthetic.It's very comfortable, I do as the Romans do, and people have a better impression of me. Called Sophie's office number, but there was no one, neither at home.Try the phone again, turn it off, there is a voice saying you can leave a message.I waited for a while, and after drinking tea, I dialed again and got through.It turned out that she had been in a meeting all afternoon and had to turn off her phone.Because she was worried that I would call, she used the excuse of going to the bathroom, and received a call from me within a few minutes after turning on the phone. She was very excited:

"You've come to Borneo, the most beautiful place in India, haven't you?" How does she know?Her familiarity with India always amazes me.I said, "Here we go, what's next?" "You get a Colonel Singer," she said. Her words startled me.How could she know about my conversation with Mao Lin? "What Colonel Singer?" "A retired Indian military officer who is a friend or relative of Ananda." Oh my god!Ananda has relatives and friends in India!I thought that when I went to India to find Ananda, I made a great discovery.It seems that I am just a pawn on someone's chessboard, knowing that I can only move forward, and they can move me at any time, or let me hang there waiting for the cold fingers of fate.

"What's the matter?" My tone was rather unhappy. As always, Sophie's voice suddenly became that of a sister. "I really don't know what kind of relationship it is, I just saw such an address in Ananda's communication book."Her voice was at least frank and sincere. "Then why didn't you tell me earlier?" "I'm not sure either. I think you have luck, or a sixth sense. Since you came to Borones yourself, Colonel Singer is a relevant figure: you confirmed my suspicions." I am not a pawn, I am a reagent.On second thought, it's no use getting angry with Sophie.It's my business now: I'm going to get to the bottom of it. "Okay. Give me the address". "28 Stuart Street, Godaulia. I'll send it to your e-mail right away. However, I don't know if this is the correct address?" "what happened?" "Address in the 1950s." There was the rustling of her notebook in the background. "How do you know it's from the 1950s?" "It seems."Sophie answered irrelevantly, and then fell silent.In fact, I know: she peeked at some of Ananda's things, such as his diary and address book.This is not a crime, she should know some details, otherwise it is almost unreasonable. "Can you still find the ones from the 1950s?" I deliberately looked impatient. "I just found this old address." "You still tell me everything you know." Sophie almost begged: "I won't hide it from you. If there is a story behind it, it's up to you to figure it out." Putting the phone on hold, I was paying, thinking why should she explain everything to me?Who can explain it all?What she said, "If there is a story behind it, it's up to you to figure it out." It's also true, otherwise what do you want me to come to India?If she can do it, she doesn't need me at all.Then she must have tried, but it didn't work, so she came to me. Compared with Delhi, the temperature in Boronis is a bit higher. Most people here wear shirts, and very few people wear thin sweaters, and the sky seems to be getting dark later.I went into a shop, ate some barbecue pancakes, and called a rickshaw according to the tourist information, and paid 15 rupees to go directly to the old city.It looks very close from the map, but it took a long time to walk. The city is located on the northwest bank of the Ganges and has a rich history.Confused people who pursue the truth of life like to gather here for penance.Since ancient times, Hindus believe that as long as you bathe in the Ganges here, you can wash away the sins and diseases you have committed in your life, and your soul will become pure and ascend to heaven.This is the holy city, like Mecca in Islam and Jerusalem in Christianity.The biggest wish of Hindus is to be able to swallow their last breath by the Ganges River in Boronis, and come here to wait for death knowing that there is not much to come.There are also family members who transport the remains here to be cremated after death, and the ashes are scattered in the river.Cremation requires money to buy wood, and those who have no money have to throw the body into the river to feed the fish.It is said that the soul can also achieve a positive fruit, and it will be reborn from then on. The old city of Godlia, the platform winding along the Ganges, the stone steps extending in all directions, the intricate alleys along the river bank, the antique houses and temples, the small wooden boats on the curved river, soaked in the river believers, monks meditating on the shore, the smoke from the cremation ceremony on the stone steps, and the bells of the temple. There are stalls along the way, where women sit on the floor wrapped in headscarves, selling large bunches of red flowers, bananas, tomatoes, potatoes, green beans, peppers, ginger and garlic.The men wore skirts and mostly plastic slippers.People are running back and forth on the street, and there are more Western faces here than along the way.Dogs and monkeys are also having fun, and a strong buffalo overturns the garbage at the corner and does not leave. The tricycle driver rides and stops, and the back of the seat is like the canopy of a carriage, except that five bamboo blocks are used for each of the two stalls, which is full of human touch. The driver was very patient. When he stopped, he took out two magazines from his satchel and stuffed them to me.After flipping through all the pornographic pictures, I boldly asked, "What do you mean?" He smiled innocently, "We have sauna and massage here, all services are available, it's very hygienic, we do regular checkups, and we don't have AIDS." He rides a bicycle and doesn't forget to do business, soliciting customers to get kickbacks. 28 Sauter Street is still there, and not only is it, but it is a detached two-story old colonial house hidden among the trees.The fence is not high, there are swimming pools and lawns, and the environment is very peaceful. It is a rare high-end residence in a radius of tens of miles.The rickshaw driver looked at me in disbelief, thinking I didn't deserve to be here? An old man, with long white hair reaching to his chest and even a white beard, walked majestically from the side of the road.He looked terrible, and I froze for a moment.Looking again, he was covered with a cloth like Gandhi, his arms and neck were covered with rosary beads, and he was holding a cane with rosary beads hanging on the cane. "Does Colonel Singer live here? I'll look for him," I said uneasily. He put on the glasses hanging on his chest and looked at me. I clearly had a Chinese face, even though I was wearing traditional Indian clothes. I asked again: "Isn't Colonel Singer here? He used to live here." He didn't speak, and I noticed that he was barefoot.I realized that he was a holy man who eats wind and drinks dew. He seemed to be passing by this big mansion, and he came over to help me find the way when he saw me.At this time, he nodded and said to me in Queen's English, which is almost the British aristocratic style: "I am Singer, what do you want?" So I said sincerely, "I am looking for Ananda, Annada. I am from China." "Annada," he said in surprise. "Okay, you come with me." I was so excited that I was almost nauseated: this must have gone too well!I followed him with a small suitcase, from the path on the left side of the garden to the side door of the house, the path was paved with gravel.Entering the house, there are servants who are already lighting the lamps, and the furnishings are more magnificent than the outside. "You know Ananda, don't you?" I asked as I put the suitcase and carry-on bag by the door. "Oh, Annada, he also has a Chinese name. His original name was Huang Yalian." I didn't want to go around in circles. In order to avoid finding the wrong person, I said Ananda's original name. "I don't know the names," said the old gentleman. My heart sank, "Then what do you know?" "I only know a few people, whether they are called this or that name, it has nothing to do with me." What he said as if he was meditating made me feel a bit roundabout: at this time, it was too late to retreat: just now when he heard Ananda’s name, the sparkle in his eyes had already revealed the secret: Ananda was definitely related to him, and it might be very related .I started to look at it a little more as a normal person, not so much in awe. This Colonel Singer was dressed like a beggar, but his house was a garden house that could only be seen in the Tianjin and Shanghai Concessions, which was too incongruous with his attire.I looked at the house carefully, the huge hall, the spacious staircase leading to the big hallway, I have only seen it in Chinese movies in the 1930s and 1940s, such staircases and chandelier furniture are only found in the houses of big compradors and big capitalists in Shanghai, and there is also a piece of furniture. vintage black piano.He didn't sit on those carved and gold chairs, but sat on the carpet.On the sofa beside it are silk satin round pillows and cushions, and the tassels and curtains are all purple and blue. From Delhi to Agra, and then to Boronis, I saw many so-called "sages" along the way.Most of these monks are over half a hundred years old, roaming around, living a life of beggars relying on charity.Realgar is painted on the forehead, and a yellow cloth shirt or a piece of yellow cloth is used to cover the private parts. Some people hang water jugs in front of their legs, and some people paint with charcoal ash.Originally, the skin color is dark, and it has been tanned for many years. They usually hold a wooden staff, a kettle, some people carry a cloth bag, a fan for exorcism, and a broken bowl and teacup for begging. Of course, Yunyou has no fixed place, sometimes sleeps in the street, sometimes sleeps in the wilderness, eats hemp rice, cow dung and deer dung, branches and fruits, and can sit down and practice anywhere, with his legs swinging on his shoulders with yoga techniques Or behind the head, put your palms together, you can not move for a few days, and hold your hands above your head for dozens of days.Hindus who don't pay attention to this life but believe in reincarnation in the afterlife divide their life into four stages: the Brahma life period is the student period; the home residence period is when they get married and start a business, and step into the society; Leaving home to live in the jungle, living a secluded life, and concentrating on spiritual practice; the reclusive period, the final stage of life, should give up everything, shave your hair, keep precepts, beg for food, and wear thin clothes to achieve the state of the sameness as the Brahman and the self. However, Colonel Singer is living in a mansion while cultivating, which period is it?He did not give up his property to become a thorough saint, it seems that his virtue is not enough. On the long table parallel to the piano, there is a black-and-white photo framed with silver borders hanging on the end wall.Taking a closer look, the corners of the photo have turned yellow, as if it was taken decades ago. what happened?The person sitting in the photo turned out to be a Chinese, and an Indian girl stood behind him. My first impression was that I had seen these two faces before.If you look closely, I don't know them both. The Chinese are wearing long gowns, and the Indian girl has an old Chinese silk fan in her hand.I couldn't figure out what was going on, and took a step back.The background of the photo is India, which seems to be the front door of this house. There are Indian jasmines in the photo, but now there are no flowers in front of the door, the trees are too lush, and the lawn has not been mowed for a long time, it is a withered and barren scene.Could this be a haunted house?As soon as this idea came to my mind, I was frightened by myself, so I quickly stopped.The two people in the photo seem to be very close. Are they husband and wife, lovers?Chinese and Indians do not marry.Xu Dishan, who loves India the most, made many literary friends in India in the 1930s. He kept writing about India in his articles, but he never fell in love with an Indian woman.Tagore had many friends in China, but he never wrote a love poem to Chinese women.Making friends is one thing, but love is another. I understood a little bit. Colonel Singer must have had Chinese friends. He saw that I was Chinese and let me come in to talk out of kindness. "Who are they?" I said my judgment, "This Chinese is your friend, isn't it?" "These two are souls of heaven," he said slowly. Dead, I didn't expect.My heart became flustered and I became tense.In the evening, it is a strange environment again. Alas, the magnificent Ganges, although it is already a gentle river in the middle of Boronis, can be arranged in a long way from the stepped platform extending from the river bank. So many people have washed their sins, so many people are standing by the river Burned to death, so many ashes were scattered in the river, isn't this river of spiritual washing also a river of death? Colonel Singer is wearing a rosary that has been polished smooth by the sun and the moon. Although the wrinkles on his face are piled up with old age, and his eyebrows are long and white, his serene demeanor in meditation makes me feel at ease. Sophie asked me to come here, probably for a reason, she must have found out something.Sophie is a person who doesn't want to waste anyone's time, and knows that my kind help to her is not unlimited. I walked over and sat down beside Colonel Singer, looking at the pattern on the carpet: a set of round crimson bats and golden duckweed, as if embroidered, the workmanship is fine, the whole carpet is glowing with pearl luster .After calming down for a while, I said, "Has Mr. Huang been here?" He must have heard it, but still ignored me. I stood up, and the hem of my skirt rubbed against the legs of my trousers, making the sound of fine sand rubbing against fine sand.I was disappointed and sighed.Looking back at him, his expression added a kind of warmth, and I felt that I found the right person.But maybe it's not appropriate to bother him: the more you pester her, the less she will make a sound.When it was time to leave, I said, "Thank you for your hospitality, I have to go." Colonel Singer suddenly woke up, with a dazed look on his face, which happens from one state to another. I used to practice yoga intermittently for several years, and occasionally I practiced until there was no hustle and bustle, and I was suddenly awakened by a phone call or lightning It will look like this.Colonel Singer opened his eyes and said softly, "It's getting late and the road is inconvenient. You can stay here." He clapped his hands twice and stood up. There was a servant, neatly dressed in a white scarf, who ran out of nowhere and waited for him.Colonel Singer asked him to prepare rooms and utensils. What kind of saint is this?And servants.I was taken aback and didn't ask any more questions.I don't like living in a stranger's house by nature, and I don't have the convenience of staying in a hotel.Besides, how can I believe that living here is not dangerous? I thanked him and took my luggage and bag, but he didn't dissuade me from staying and let me go through the gate.Although a light outside was not very bright, it was still clearly visible.There is no Indian frangipani in front of the gate, and there is no water in the swimming pool. An old banana tree is withered and will not be dug up. It is too ugly.It was an indication that Colonel Singer did not often live in the house. As soon as I came out, I regretted it. Why should I refuse to stay?Indians are hospitable and are used to entertaining people at home.The most important thing is that in Singer's house, even if she doesn't open her mouth, she may find something or encounter something by chance, and she may find out what is the relationship between him and Ananda?Such a saint who is not a saint, a colonel and a colonel, will not live without a story.A novelist's habitual curiosity emerges at this time. I'm so stupid, I don't know how to seize the moment.But it was too late to regret it, I decided to find a hotel to live in first.Otherwise, I have a feeling that when I come to the street again, the whole house and Colonel Singer, with his servants, will disappear in a puff of smoke.Everything seems to be fictitious based on imagination. Once you leave imagination, it is like stepping out of a peach blossom garden. It will be difficult to go back and find the trace. The street lights on the street are very dim. Maybe the government uses low wattage bulbs in order to save money.But you don't need a flashlight even in a small alley.The alleys are full of small shops, restaurants and hotels, which seem to be crowded.Some places are dark, and there are smaller roads, I dare not walk. I followed the map to find a hotel run by a Japanese woman. According to information, this hotel has good service and is located in an alley by the river.Found it, the hotel is bigger than other small hotels, but it is still full.I have never encountered such a situation in any city in India. I am afraid that I have encountered some Indian holiday, otherwise it would be impossible.While wandering, a teenager took me to the Vishnu Hotel. My worries were justified. Not only were there no best rooms facing the river on the first and second floors, but even the poor rooms with no towels and toilet paper and public toilets were full. A small balcony in front of the door is covered with tents.But I saw that the hotel is close to the Ganges, and there is a half-closed wooden door on the left side path, and the river rushes away underfoot.What a wonderful place, you can see the Ganges sunrise in the morning without leaving your room. I got angry and went back to the street, gave the boy a small note, hailed a taxi, pointed to the Kenton Gate area on the north side of the railway station on the map, and asked the driver to drive to the expensive hotel there.The Ganges River is an old urban area, while the Kenton Gate area is considered a high-end new area, and most of the high-priced hotels are gathered around it.The car entered the Kenton Gate area, and I said to the driver: "Helios Hotel." "The hotel is noble, every room faces the garden, and the chef is great, a famous chef." The driver is similar to a taxi driver in Beijing, he knows everything and loves to talk. "You don't have to worry, if it doesn't work, I'll drive you to the best hotel here later." You can't blame people for being warm-hearted when you go out, you have to thank them.While talking, the car arrived at the entrance of the hotel. It was different from the hotels in the old urban area. The facade was magnificent, and the garden was especially neat and lovely. I looked at the price list first. A single room with bathroom hot water is 200 rupees, and a suite with air conditioning is only 500 or 600 rupees. Reasonably priced.I was just about to pay when the man in a suit in front of the service counter smiled and said to me: "Sorry, there are no rooms left." "Do you have a suite?" "No. Our hotel is always popular, like this season, if you don't make a reservation in advance, there will be no room." He spread his hands at the counter. I asked him for help, and he laughed again, "There will be no vacancies in hotels in this area. If you don't book, you can only sleep on the street, unless you are willing to spend money, except for one hotel. The Clark Hotel is the most expensive hotel in our city. The most beautiful and luxurious hotel in the old days existed in the British colonial period, and it has all the necessary facilities, including satellite TV and online video games.” I interrupted him rudely: "How much is it for one night?" "A single room with air-conditioning is $60, and a double room is $120. Only US dollars are charged. There must be no single rooms, but there is still hope for double rooms. I'm talking about the original price. The recent prices are all three times more than the original price." Triple that's $360 a night!The equivalent of RMB is almost 2900 yuan, the cost of one novella overnight!And I have to write a novella for three months.This is where people like me live.Although Sophie's line can spend one or two nights here, or even five or six nights without any problem, but this is not my spending habit.I hesitated. The taxi driver might be taking me to this hotel. He was waiting outside the door. If he didn't wait for me, there would be no business at this time.Seeing the driver looking in my direction, I suddenly remembered that I had a photo of Ananda in my computer, which Sophie had forwarded to me via e-mail. I should show it to Colonel Singh, but I forgot it at the time.I complained in my mouth: "Why are the hotels full?" "Miss, are you here to participate in the Kumbh Mela? The foreigners who come here are all here for this festival, and they all booked hotels a year ago, at least half a year ago." "What festival?" "Kumbh Mela, the great fstival of the pitcher, the Kumbh Festival!" No wonder the hotels on the river bank even set up tents on the platform, and there are tents everywhere on the river bank.The train is so crowded, and there are so many people in this city, all of whom are here to participate in this "big pot festival".I shook my head, "Please explain carefully, what's going on here?" He became interested, and after talking for a long time, I listened for a long time, and finally figured it out.India holds the Kumba Mela festival every twelve years in the neighboring holy place of Allahabad.Legend has it that Hindu gods and demons fought over a jug containing four elixirs.The pot was accidentally knocked over, and four drops of the elixir fell to the four places of Allahabad, Haridwar, Ujan and Nashi in India.After that, the four places will celebrate the "Big Pot Festival" every three years.Among these four cities, Allahabala is recognized as the most blessed by the gods, and it is the confluence of the three holy rivers in India. The Kumba Mela Festival started on the 9th of this month, and it will last forty-two days. Seventy million people have come, old western hippies, Hollywood stars, Madonna, Demimo, Sharon Stone, etc. Take a bath in the Ganges with the gods to wash away sins and disasters.European and American TV stations are here, and the whole world is watching!I think I'm really inexplicable, but I didn't feel it when I bumped into the big section of the Indians.It's been a long time since I read a newspaper, and I was immersed in reading Buddhist scriptures and packing up my luggage. After arriving in India, I played hide-and-seek with Sophie all day long, so it's no wonder. Only then did I understand why the girl in Delhi said that Ananda might come here, and Sophie also thought that I might go to this city.Only Mao Lin told me to come to this place in advance.Well, that's fate, although I really don't understand: what place is there for sin when tens of millions of people bathe together. After finishing the class for me, he said with emotion, "You came at the right time. There was nothing to see at the beginning. The 14th was a small climax, and the 24th was the real climax. But it's a pity to miss the festival on the 9th. On that day, It coincides with the lunar eclipse and the beginning of a new century. On the auspicious day, at 2 o'clock in the morning, people will gather at the confluence of the Ganges River, the Yamna River and the Sarasavati River. Thousands of people wade into the depths of the water. In the knee-high Ganges, many people soaked in the water for six hours." That said, I've had a good time, and I've been lucky.However, I have missed the good times on the 9th and 14th, and there are still three days before the next climax on the 24th.Don't worry, when you get here, no matter what kind of hotel you are, the distance from the Ganges River is only the front door and the back door. It occurred to me that Colonel Singh might have come back to that house from his retreat for the Kumba Merah festival too?It seems that I was wrong to blame him for not wanting to part with the house property.He is not like a person who is in danger, and neither are the others. During this holy festival, no one will do bad things to blaspheme the gods and ruin their own reincarnation. I returned to the taxi with my luggage, and the driver asked proudly, "To the Clark Hotel?" The air in the car was not good. As soon as I got into the car, I felt stuffy, so I hurriedly rolled down the windows and doors, ignoring his words.he asked again.Then I realized he was talking to me, so I said to him without thinking, "Go back to the old town, 28 Shat Street." It was too late to go to any friend's house, but Singh Since I'm really a "saint", I don't see the outside world. Less than half a minute after I knocked on the door, the door opened. The servant saw me and helped me with my luggage without asking any questions.Colonel Singer came over, put his hands together and said, "I know you will come back, I have been waiting for you."