A Sikh painted a portrait of me today, at least, he wore something on his head. I'm not sure Sikhs are in the habit of begging money, which he was effectively doing.
As I rushed to work, late, we made eye contact, as foreigners do, and he stopped me, mumbling something. His pitch was well-rehearsed, and he said something about how I will have good luck in January and something about SMP being part of it. Then he showed me a photo of his religious group, whom I am pretty sure aren't Sikhs, but I can't say for sure. I made sure my watch stayed on my wrist, and my wallet in my pocket, as we shook hands at length.
He described my life, and explained he knows that the worried marks on my face can only be from the death or departure of a wife or child, and that I hadn't shaved since Saturday because although I'm quite busy, I went out of town for the weekend. He told me about my sister, and tried to guess I'm going to Europe soon, although he was wrong on that one. He said something about 2/3 and by this point, I was working to politely detach myself and invited him to walk with me on the way to work, but he declined and wrote some observations on a paper and magically made 2/3 appear on it. Then he asked me for money. By this point, I was already saying goodbye over my shoulder. I'm 99% sure he wasn't a Sikh.
No comments:
Post a Comment