26th March 2011 (9.30am)

Haven’t been able to write in ages because I felt that nothing good would be put down. All negative, morbid and violent thoughts along the lines of – they are animals, They don’t appreciate politeness and so have to be treated like animals.

(Continued 27th March 2011 4.07am)
But that would be an insult to animals. Especially the sweet dog who is the object of some sadist’s experiments (someone tied a wire really tight around his right back leg. The foot swelled up and dropped off after a few weeks. And then the wire was tied further up near his knee. Now a third wire seems to have been tied on his thigh. My feeble attempts to contact an animal shelter to have him picked up and cared for have proven futile).

While I’m growing accustomed to the routine (or somewhat so – still wake up some days wondering if it would be such a bad to thing to miss the morning class…), these things grate on me. As also does the fact that I am being fleeced for more money to get a single room, while the Indian girls almost all enjoy single rooms. I should have put my foot down when they asked me to pay $35/day for the 15days I spent here last December helping them out under the guise of Karma yoga. I finally managed to get off with paying INR 5000. But I was still not given a room. I suspect now that maybe Indians are racist when it comes to their Asian neighbours but bend over backwards to get kicked in the arse by the fairer skinned visitors. Case in point would be the tiny mustachioed guy in the kitchen who meekly hands out fruit when he’s shouted at. But when you speak to him nicely and treat him like a human being, he offers you rotten fruit or nothing. Hmmmm…. I wonder what I’m doing wrong here.

But all this seemed trivial and petty and nasty and boring (yes, even the other tiny mustachioed man - who I learnt is the Course Coordinator – who called a meeting to supposedly hear student complaints with a view to improving the quality of education offered at the University, but who was more interested in telling us to pay up in time for the coming semester, arrange are shoes in order when we go for lunch, avoid eating in the cleaner diningroom and promote the university among friends and relatives – while stubbornly refusing to acknowledge that the University is not equipped to handle anymore students comfortably, which I in turn stubbornly pointed out to him.

But moving on to more serious things, the sleep disturbances, heart palpitations and scarily numbing feeling of my left hand and tightness in my chest and left shoulder still persist. I’ve gained a couple of kilograms since I started eating clarified butter (ghee) everyday with my breakfast but I’m still losing hair and looking emaciated. Not to mention I feel like crap, irritated by the stupidity I see around me – like the teacher who tells me I can’t submit a typed assignment as I may have copied it from someone else and therefore requires me to hand in a handwritten submission. Seriously!?! Of course I know its pointless to even attempt to explain to him that I never copied in my life and don’t intend to start at the ripe age of 32.

Going back to meditation. It’s good but the problems haven’t still been put to rest (which may explain why I’m up at this ungodly hour writing this!)

Was very upset when Beau was not available to chat after getting back from his holiday so decided to steel myself for the inevitable and stop deluding myself with thoughts of him. Worked for a week. If you can call deliberately trying to put him out of my mind as not thinking of him. Relapsed a few days ago and mailed him. Miss him. And I mean just him and not so much the way he makes me feel. And of course I tell myself if I had known that I would feel this way I would have held on to him all day, and played with his curls and kissed his cheeks. *sigh indeed*

Thank god it’s Sunday! I can sleep. Though I should be focusing on my assignment.
Funny how the Friday off here seems to pass by so fast when the Fridays off in Hargeisa were deliciously and at the same time agonizingly slow to pass.

Looks like I’ll make it to class after all. Though I hope the teacher won’t be a dick about the fact that I wasn’t able to get a print out of my assignment because the man at the call centre didn’t know how to log on to the system! Good morning to you too!