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Authors: Cathy Hopkins

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BOOK: Golden Girl
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About twenty of us were crowded into the small tent when an Indian man with a beard and long white hair came in and greeted everyone. ‘Welcome, welcome,’ he said, beaming as we took
our places at the back.

‘Everyone ready to laugh?’ asked the bearded man.

A few said, ‘yes’, others shifted about on their feet as if they weren’t quite sure.

‘First we start with joke,’ said the man. ‘How many gurus does it take to change a lightbulb?’

Nobody answered.

‘None. Change has to come from within.’

There was a little laughter and a groan from the crowd.

‘Ah,’ said the man with a big grin, ‘but see, you smiling now. Smiling good. Laughing better. Best medicine. So. First, we’re going to do silent laughing.’ He
demonstrated someone laughing without sound and I couldn’t help but smile while watching him. He looked so funny.

‘Now you do the same,’ he instructed.

‘My speciality,’ said Pia and joined in immediately by shaking her shoulders. She was good at it too, having perfected the art of silent laughing in school assemblies.

After a few minutes of everyone laughing silently, the Indian man spoke again. ‘And now we do full body laugh.’ He began to laugh out loud, then chant, ‘I am so happy, I am so
relaxed, hahahahahahahaha.’

I glanced at JJ and he shrugged then joined in. ‘Hahahaha,’ we all chorused.

‘LOUDER,’ called the teacher.

‘HAHAHAHAHAHAHA,’ the crowd chorused, so we went for it too and waved our arms in the air as the Indian teacher was doing. It was infectious and, in a few moments, people were
genuinely cracking up as they watched each other. At one point, I noticed that Vanya, Mrs Lewis, Prasad and Alisha were standing at the back. They didn’t join in. They stood quietly, looking
on with bemusement, then left, presumably to try out some other method of finding peace.

‘From the belly,’ urged the teacher. ‘Deep laughing. Ho ho ho ho.’

I glanced over at JJ who was really going for the full body laugh and that made me laugh even more.
Never in my wildest fantasies did I imagine that I’d be out with JJ acting mad like
this
, I thought as I threw myself back into it.

‘I have to admit I feel good after that,’ I said as we left a short time later, ‘but I can’t say I feel I’ve gained any insight.’

‘You’ve missed the point then,’ said Pia. ‘He was saying laughter is good medicine. Keep smiling. Better than standing on one leg for ten years, don’t you
think?’

‘I guess,’ I replied. ‘I’ll give it a try next time I’m feeling down about something.’

Alisha spotted us coming out of the tent and came to join us. ‘I’ve been meditating,’ she said. ‘It’s not easy. You have to breathe through alternate nostrils and
count. You’re supposed to let your mind go quiet as you do it but as soon as I close my eyes, a million thoughts are there and my stomach’s talking, telling me it wants
feeding.’

‘How long did you do it for?’ asked JJ.

‘A couple of minutes.’

JJ rolled his eyes. ‘Alisha! It probably takes years to master. You have to give it some time.’ He turned to me and Pia. ‘Alisha has no patience. She wants everything
now.’

‘I am
so
misunderstood,’ said Alisha. ‘It was my idea to come here, you know. Can I help it if I know what works for me? I only need to glance in a shop to know if
it’s for me or not. And it’s the same here. There are some seriously mad people here. Like one sadhu, one of the stark naked ones, had weights through his, um . . . dangly bits. Like,
ew
. Excuse me but even
I
know that is not the way to enlightenment.’

Pia immediately wanted to go and take a photo but Alisha called her back.

‘Don’t bother,’ said Alisha. ‘He’s more enlightened than we think. He charges fifty dollars to have his picture taken.’

‘What’s the difference between a sadhu and a guru?’ I asked as Prasad came over.

‘A sadhu is a wandering monk,’ he explained. ‘While guru means teacher.
Gu
means darkness and
ru
means light, so a guru is someone who takes you from darkness
into light.’

Alisha smiled at him. ‘Now
that
I can understand,’ she said. I could see that she had come out of her own darkness and into the light as far as Prasad was concerned.

We spent another half an hour looking around. Amidst the painted and naked sadhus were a number of gurus who had lovely, smiling faces. Most were dressed in white clothes and had bunches of
enraptured devotees sitting at their feet listening to them. I stopped by one group who were with a guru who was sitting in the lotus position. There was such an aura of peace coming off him that I
decided that he’d be the one to speak to, so I sat on the ground with the others.

He looked over at me with brown twinkly eyes. ‘You have a question, child?’

I nodded. ‘I do. Er . . .’ I felt myself go red as everyone turned to look at me. ‘Where do we go after death?’

‘Hmm. Big question,’ said the guru and the group around him laughed.

‘I know,’ I said.

He considered what I’d asked. ‘I have to report that the only way to know that is . . .’ The crowd around him held their breath. ‘. . . to die and find out.’ The
crowd sighed but I’m not sure with admiration at the simplicity of his answer or with disappointment.

‘Does
anybody
here know?’ I persisted.

‘I cannot speak for others,’ said the guru, ‘but I
can
tell you that you will hear different things. Some will say that after death, you will be reborn again into
another body. That is the theory of reincarnation. It is believed that the soul never dies. The body wears out and so the soul, which is immortal, passes from one mortal frame to another in the
same way that we cast off one set of clothes and put on another. Others will tell you that this world is unreal, a dream state, an illusion and that when we die, we return and awaken to our true
home.’

‘So how do you know which is the right answer?’ I asked.

The guru bowed to me. ‘You must die to find out. In the meantime, you are here. Be here now. Enjoy. Don’t waste a minute. Experience where you are.’

‘That’s what my friend Pia says.’

‘This Pia is very wise,’ said the guru.

‘If reincarnation is true, will we always come back as humans?’ I asked, as Pia came to sit with me.

‘That depends on karma. Do you know karma?’ asked the guru.

‘Is it like a chicken dish?’ asked an Englishman who was sitting next to me. ‘Chicken karma.’

The guru laughed. ‘No, my son. That is korma. Also very good. But karma means how you live your life in the present will come back to you in the future. As you sow, so shall you
reap.’

‘So we’ll all be farmers,’ said Pia.

The guru cracked up laughing. ‘Of a kind,’ he said, then he looked at me for a moment. ‘Do not dwell on the past. It has gone. Do not waste your life with talk or thoughts
about the future. The future is a closed curtain. You must endeavour to be here now, in this present moment, because it is all that is real.’

‘How do you be here now in different time zones, guru?’ asked the Englishman. ‘Like, it’s five hours behind in the UK. Should I be here now in India or be there then in
the UK?’

The guru looked at him very patiently. ‘You are here now. Not in UK. Use your breath to anchor you here. The breath is always here, now. Concentrate on it and it will also bring you peace.
Meditate.’

‘I like that,’ I said to Pia. ‘Makes sense.’

We stood up and made a bow of thanks in the way that we had seen others do. We went over to the edge of the temple to wait for Mrs Lewis, JJ and Alisha and, as I stood there looking over the
jostling crowd, I tried to focus on my breath. Be here now. I felt like laughing. Be here now in the blazing heat with a couple of hundred people, some of whom looked like they were at a sci-fi
convention. JJ spotted me and came over. My fantasies about being alone with him seemed to be getting more and more distant by the minute. I’d always known that we’d be with people some
of the time on this trip but never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that we’d be in a crowd of gurus and sadhus, some wise, some naked, some stoned and some clearly out to lunch. Not that I
minded that much. It was only day three of our trip and there would be opportunities later to be alone with JJ. In the meantime, it had been an amazing and unexpected afternoon.


Om shanti om
, Pia,’ I said.

She grinned back. I knew she was feeling the same. ‘
Om shanti om
, babe.’

‘Mum says we can have what we like: mani, pedi, facial. We have two hours before the party,’ said Alisha when we got back to our hotel.

‘I—’ I was about to say that I couldn’t afford a treatment at the spa. I’d seen the brochure left in our room and even having my nails done was way beyond my
budget.

Alisha read my thoughts and waved a hand as if dismissing them. ‘You’re our guests,’ she said. ‘Just give your room number.’

‘Serious?’ asked Pia.

‘Serious,’ said Alisha.


Cool
,’ said Pia.

For the next two hours, we had the most divine time. We were massaged, pummelled and exfoliated to within an inch of our life, and our nails were done to perfection – I went for pink,
Alisha for dark purple and Pia for bright turquoise with glitter.

‘I’m really looking forward to this evening,’ I said as we lay on white sunbeds by the pool after our treatments. ‘It’s the part of the trip I’ve been looking
forward to most. Our first big party with real-life movie stars in one of the most gorgeous locations in the world. It doesn’t get
any
better.’

‘Mff,’ said Pia, as she flicked through
Vogue India.
‘It’ll be a party straight out of
Gossip Girl.

I stretched out and wiggled my toes. ‘Except this is India, not New York. Weird, isn’t it? An hour ago we were with hermits who have nothing, not even clothes, and here we are in one
of the most luxurious hotels in the world amongst people who have everything. Don’t you find it hard to get your head around?’

Pia shrugged. ‘Not really. I reckon your mum got the balance right. She loved life with all its little luxuries and pleasures, but she always made sure she put something back,
too.’

Pia was right. Mum never talked religion or questioned the meaning of life. She just got on with it and made sure she did what she could when someone was in need.

JJ was also by the pool sunbathing and reading and when he saw that we’d finished our beauty treatments, he came over to sit on the end of my sunbed. ‘Hi, golden girl,’ he said
and held up a bottle of suncream. ‘You’ve caught the sun today. Want me to do your back?’

Alisha looked up from her magazine. ‘Oh, get a room,’ she said.

I felt myself blush – more pink girl than golden girl. JJ ignored his sister and indicated that I should sit up and turn around. It felt delicious to have him massage the lotion into my
back and, despite the late afternoon heat, his hands sent shivers through me. ‘The Indian sun’s pretty strong,’ he said as he gently kneaded my shoulders. ‘Even though
there’s a breeze, the rays can burn.’

‘Just an excuse to get your hands on Jess,’ said Alisha.

‘And
that
is why I want to have some time alone with you,’ JJ whispered. ‘My sister is driving me mad. Let’s try to slip away for a while tonight while
everyone’s preoccupied with the party.’

Pia put her magazine aside and sat up. ‘Me next,’ she said to JJ and pointed at the lotion. I didn’t mind. I had a secret rendezvous for later.

‘We probably look as mad to those sadhus with their painted faces as they did to us,’ I said to Pia as I applied caramel-coloured eye shadow to my eyelids once we
were back in our room.

‘Maybe we should paint our faces red and orange,’ she replied. ‘You know, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. When in India, do as the Indians do.’

‘Wake up and smell the curry, dozo. Most Indians do not paint their faces bright colours. That’s just the sadhus.’

‘Spoilsport,’ said Pia. ‘It’d be one way to stand out in the crowd.’

We already had our outfits for the party because Alisha had insisted that we raid her wardrobe before we left England. It was to be a super-glamorous affair and we knew that our usual sparkly
tops were not going to cut it. As I’m the same height as Alisha, choosing my outfit hadn’t been difficult and I’d picked a stunning long dress in powder blue silk. It looked plain
on the hanger but was cut like a dream. Pia had a harder time finding something because she’s so much smaller than me and Alisha, but she borrowed a gorgeous silver halterneck top to wear
with a long silver skirt of her own which, put together, looked like a dress.

When we were ready, we Skyped home. Pia had texted earlier in the day to arrange for Charlie and Henry to be together at Charlie’s computer. At the allotted time, we rang them and there
they were, their familiar faces filling the screen.

Henry let out a wolf-whistle. ‘Wow, you two look glam,’ he said.

‘It’s the wrap party tonight,’ said Pia. ‘What’s happening over there? I miss you.’

‘Miss you too, babe,’ said Henry and he pulled a sad face.

BOOK: Golden Girl
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