From Ashram to Ambush: Tales from the Tiru Streets

When I first arrived in Tiru in January, I was walking out of the ashram with a friend when this lady suddenly rushed over and tried to stamp my forehead with paint. I leaned forward, curious to see what was going on, but my friend quickly said, “No, it’s a scam.” I straightened up. The lady thought she had me but at the last second, I slipped away. She wasn’t happy.

For nearly six months after that, whenever she saw me, she’d make a beeline straight for me. Still trying to stamp my head. I’d say, “No, no,” but she wouldn’t take no for an answer and would start following me around. Eventually, she’d give up until the next time she saw me.

One morning, I was sitting at the chai shop, deep in stillness, eyes closed, just relaxing. I must’ve had them closed for 30 seconds when suddenly I felt hands on my knees.

What the fuck?

I opened my eyes, it was her. She’d spotted me with my eyes closed and seized the moment, running over to climb on me and stamp my head. She must’ve thought, Finally, I’ve got him.

I pushed her off gently. “What the fuck,” I said.

Everyone at the chai shop just stared. We all looked at each other, completely stunned. Eventually, she wandered off when I kept saying, “No, no, no.”

It was kind of funny later.

She also had a girl gang running similar scams. You could spot them from a mile away but I’ve seen plenty of people fall for it. One of the funniest run-ins I had was with a girl who tried to stamp my head. I said, “No, no.” Then she pointed to her mouth, acting like she was starving. I said, “No.” Then she pointed to her stomach, pretending to be pregnant. (Four of them wear fake pregnant bellies.)

I just stood there laughing. “No, no, no.” She paused, then started the whole cycle again.

Another time, one of the gang came up to me pretending to collect money for kids with disabilities. She had a sign with pictures and donation options but the money just went straight to her. She even started crying while speaking Tamil. I said, “No,” again.

One day, I was swapping my scooter over when one of them came up asking for food. I thought, fair enough, I’ll feed her. She asked if she could have some rice. I said okay and walked to the shop with her.

Suddenly, I was swarmed.

A whole group of the girl gang surrounded me, all yelling “Arunachala!” and “Swami!” and calling me “Baba.” Asking for this, asking for that. It was a scene.

I don’t like when people try to butter me up. Makes me feel sick.

I just walked away.

After that, I realised: I’m pretty sure they all get dropped off by bus or arrive in taxis. They show up on the main road in the morning, and by lunchtime they all disappear. There are about twenty of them.

Now, whenever I spot one, I just smile and laugh.