Two encounters

Between Class, downtime, nothing to do, sitting outside Taper Hall. Tossing back some pages of a novel. Sitting by the self. Occasionally glancing up to track the movement of girls, putting my head down, putting it up again if a second look is warranted. Sometimes sniffing the smoke of a passing cigarette and wondering why feel no need for one anymore after 8 years of religious smoking. Not even a tinge of desire, just a curious sniffle. Then settle into rhythm of book, the post hour bustle dies down as the clock hits the ten minutes past the hour mark.

Two girls approach my periphery. I hear a bright 'Hello', look up startled. Who are these people? Survivors of the past, old acquaintances. Who else would have the gall to approach me cold like this?

"I am Janice and this is Marjorie(place holder names for I barely registered their names in the weird panic of encounter). We are from the Student Christian Association. " Right, its those kindly evangelists. Who else wants to talk to you, you fool? Who is always there for you? Who has a Conversion Manual handily available for quick readings of your true spiritual state.

"Hello" I say politely, unsure whether I should introduce myself to these lambs of God. I thought better of it. "We were just walking around campus talking to people about their relationship to the saviour." Yes, they just happened to be walking around checking spiritual meters in their spare time. This must be a form of relaxation therapy.

"Well what do you think, are you interested in the role of our saviour in your life?"(Or something to that effect, my memory is all sieve, no netting). Hmm, so kind of him to take a special interest in my particular case, especially during the lonely afternoon hours of youth. " So I said "Not really" Big "Oh" from the lead lamb "That's just like my father. He would walk past the scene of the nativity and was never aware of it or anything like that." Well maybe I hadn't convinced her properly the first time so I said - "Well I don't really believe in a God, or anything like that." At which she says -"Yes, yes, my father too." Guess I had something in common with her daddy. That is the great thing about humanity, our shared history and origins.

How aware are these girls, I thought to myself, of the baggage they are shouldering, proselytising their 'forgiving God' to the subject of an ex colonial outpost(I was born and brought up in India, where people in some parts like Goa were subjected to forced conversions and other missionary excesses). A lone student must be just a lone student to them. Hell, just weeks ago, a white Hare Krishna devotee had passed me by without proffering me a Bhagvad Gita. Wonder what he was thinking when he quickly adjusted his stride to walk past me.

The second lamb felt the need to quickly pry open her reality focusing device and read out a line from Isiah (I think) "If you ever feel the need for the presence of the living God then you may reach out and call for him to present himself"(paraphrase). I thanked them and told them I' d think about it. They walked on by.

A few minutes later I looked to my right to see a lumbering student walking toward me. As she approached me on huge, jogging rolls of her thighs a girl on a cycle cut off her colossal figure and suddenly screeched to a halt a few feet ahead of me. She padded back on her feet, balancing her bicycle between her thighs. The two passed each other and I plunged back into my book thinking the new arrival was going to park her bike. "Hey there" I heard. What the hell? Roving gangs of lambs out on the prowl today, I thought. "I have a question for you?" Doesn't everyone. "Sure" I replied.

"I am a student at the school of cinematic arts and I was going to do a shoot this Friday. Its a short and will only take me 45 minutes or so. Tell me, would you or anyone you know be interested in starring in my movie?" Would I?Hmm. "I don't think so" I said, "I am camera shy" Now the girl felt the need to unburden her difficulties to me - "You know, its so hard to find actors, in the school, there are 1 maybe 2 actors of Middle eastern or Indian descent. I have to shoot the film by the end of this weekend and then edit it and so I am just cycling around and stopping anyone I see who looks the part and asking them if they want to act." Right, right, here she is, making a singlehanded attempt to address the problems of minority representation in Hollywood.

She then asks me - "What about the people you know?" Sure, sure, I probably know a whole secret community of Indian/Middle eastern people. I hang out with them and we cook falafels and some sort of odd smelling curries together, very ambiguously. Shit, how authentic would my accent be? Would I have to emphasise it on screen? That vague, tongue rolling, lickety splickety, roll about of the vowels that Americans can't get enough of in comedic scenes. What if it was one of those days when my voice magically sounds completely unaccented?

"I am sorry I don't know anyone really." Then I sympathise with her about her film student woes. It is a rough business, I would not have the courage to do what she is trying to do. I tell her to try a bribe, 10 bucks or something, it is an hour's work after all.