Over the last few weeks, I have been revisiting the teachings of Eckhart Tolle. Engaging with his work has the power to quiet my mind and bring me into a state of peace and equanimity.
Yesterday, I remembered this short piece of writing. It was inspired by a hilarious encounter I had with a madman in Delhi many years ago.
Enjoy 😉
~
(2008)
Delhi. Evening time.
I found my favorite restaurant and sat down at an outdoor table. A crazy old Swiss man joined me, grumbling to himself behind darkened glasses. Several minutes later, we struck up a conversation that lasted nearly an hour, until a dust storm blew us inside.
There we continued our conversation. It touched on our individual reasons for living and whether the planet was doomed to die.
He told me that he was “waiting for his killer” (I never came to understood what he meant), and that he had tried to kill himself several nights before by snorting five grams of heroin, which obviously hadn’t succeeded.
He also mentioned that he is a Zen master, and close friends with Eckhart Tolle.
“Ah!” I said, surprised.
“You know Eckhart Tolle?”
“Yes, of course,” he drawled, lighting another cigarette.
“He’s a fool, a child. I told him so last time we had dinner together. I told him his book was shit.”
“Really?” I asked, a smile twitching on my lips.
“And what did he say?”
He exhaled heavily and flicked his cigarette.
“He threw a bottle of whiskey at my head.”