Live from Mysore #7 (full of shit)

My meditation teacher says I am full of shit. So he sent me on a run for tools. Every morning I am supposed to drink a glass of water with honey and lemon. Every night I am supposed to drink a glass of water with a spoon of Triphala Churna in it. I have heard people say this stuff is a miracle. I hear you can find it at Whole Foods. The first miracle will then be paying for it. It is a digestive system toner and mild laxative. So first thing in the morning you can clear out because doing yoga or trying to meditate with a digestive system still full is ”no good”.

We had to walk way down Double Tank Road to the ayurvedic hospital, which is directly across the street from the western medicine hospital. The ayurvedic hospital is where I would find the Triphala. On the walk there, a young boy with 2 monkeys on hand-made leashes walked towards us. Monkeys are notorious criminals in India. Also they are dirty biters. I wished I had my camera with me but didn’t. The boy with the monkeys called out to us. I was afraid if he got too close, his monkeys—which were constantly running back and forth on his shoulders and up and down his sides like tweaker monkeys—would jump off the boy and onto me. The boy’s hair was dark and wild as were his eyes. He moved quickly towards us with monkeys jumping all around on their leashes and we made a b-line fast to a place away from the monkey boy. Ironically we ran past a hanuman temple and soon found the hospital where I went in and bought my stuff.

120g for 32 rupees. About 75 cents. I know it’s all relative.

I’ll try it tonight but am a little nervous, as the food here has already made my digestive system a little more active than I like. Are you following me? In fact a couple days ago it was BAD. Like Michael Jackson. I was sure I had picked up a bug. Spending any time more than 30 feet from my bathroom was potentially dangerous. I know worrying never solved anything so let’s say I was concerned. You can shit yourself to death. I’m not sure how long it takes but I don’t care to find out. Nancy ran out and got me an antibiotic 3-pack (generic Zithromax). You can just walk down the street—full of cows, chickens, people and monkey boys—and buy antibiotics. Thank god. A lot of things are a pain in the ass in India. I keep expecting someone to ask me to bring them the broom of the wicked witch of the west before they give me what I want. But getting antibiotics—that did the trick—was simple and cheap. About 1/16 the price as in America. The same stuff. Someone is making a killing on our health.

Feeling great today. Doing my best to retain all the info I am collecting.

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