The Secret Relationship of Dan and Phil

Chapter 10, Part 1. India is fun!

“You’re a genetic disorder, Phil.” Dan scoffed.

“Am not! If anyone here’s a disorder, it’s Chris.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Chris asked, looking vaguely amused and offended.

The American seemed to be startled, so she scurried away. After finishing our food, which was delicious, by the way, we decided that perhaps a crowd wasn’t a good idea this early in the morning and decided to change our schedule a little. Instead of going to the street market first, we would go to a Sikh temple.

As we blundered down the path toward the temple, Dan had somehow found a pair of scissors. While he terrorized Chris with it, I noticed a sign with the words “Gurudwara Bangla Sahib” on it, along with some rules/information.

“Guys, I think we have to take off our shoes, and.... Cover our hair?” I said.

“With what?” PJ asked.

“Scissors.” Dan inputted helpfully.

“No, we need to actually cover our hair, Dan.” I sighed. 

“We could use our shoes to cover our hair.” Chris suggested.

“Great idea, Chris, thanks.” PJ said sarcastically. 

“Or, you know, we could just buy the hair thingies they’re selling over there.” I said.

“Well, yeah, we could, but where’s the fun in that?” Chris wondered.

I wandered over to the vendor, allowing PJ, Chris, and Dan to continue debating the worthiness of shoes as hair nets.

“Hello, um, could I have four of those turbany hair net thingies?”

“Of course.” the woman said. She was Indian, but she had almost no accent. I wondered how that was, as they probably got tourists from everywhere, not just the UK, and it wouldn’t really make sense for her to have a british accent. As she bundled up the THNT’s (That’s Turbany Hair Net Thingies, for those of you who didn’t get it), she asked, “So where are you from?”

“Hmm? Oh, London. I’m on vacation with them.” I motioned backwards to Dan PJ, and Chris, who were now chasing each other around. 

“They’re, uh, lively.”

“That’s a good way to describe them. I usually go with insane myself.”

The woman laughed. “It’s good to see someone horsing around, as long as they aren’t actually inside the building. They used to have toys out here, and all the children would come out to play, but then some of the tourists said it was distracting them, so they had to take it away.”

“That’s horrible.”

“It is,” she said, handing me a bag with the THNT’s, “but I suppose that’s just how some people are.”