It’s been 16 years since I slept for two nights in the Golden Temple in Amritsar and it’s going to have to wait until tomorrow because I’m knackered and I want room service.
Furthermore, I have shown the manager of this hotel a picture of me with my new Bollywood mates and I am playing the movie star card with aplomb. Already a basket of fruit has been sent to my room. No champagne yet, but you never know.
But, enough of such bombast and boasting. Tomorrow I will sleep at the Golden Temple, the home of the Sikh religion and one of the most extraordinary places on earth.
Sixteen years ago I travelled with only one electrical item. No laptop, no mobile, no chargers, no digital camera, no Smartphone, no noise reduction headphones, just a Dictaphone to record Indian sounds.
And the best ‘footage’ I have of the many valued tapes I made on that trip are the choirs of Amritsar at 4am.
Rather like the murmurings of mosques when the day breaks on Kashmir’s Nigeen lake, they are hypnotic and wonderful.
In the temple itself, food is provided for all visitors as well as a place on the floor for the night and a blanket. Sikhs come and talk to you, explain their religion and a discourse ensues. It is like being in Ancient Greece and nobody tries to proselytise.
I was taken around the lake to the temple in the middle and the realisation that the waters around me were once filled with bodies in the bloodied history of the temple was a humbling experience.
Times change, no doubt, and my body may find the floor more uncomfortable than the soft bed I write this missive from, but something tells me tomorrow will be special and the choirs will awaken my heart.
In the interim, I shall open my beer and sit back and watch India v Australia in the World Cup Twenty20 Super Eights, arrange my digital equipment so I don’t leave anything behind and then I will return to magic.