Roisin Kiberd

Did I ever actually post the Slideshare of my panel at SXSW?

No. Better late than never, I guess… Enjoy:)

‘Hello?’

‘Hi, I’m looking for Dooleybog Regional Insurance, the best service for equine and agricultural vehicle insurance in the Dooleyford region.’

‘Sorry, what?’

‘Dooley Bog Regional Insurance. Tractor insurance.’

‘This is the wrong number.’

‘Oh, alright. I just wanted the best.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Discounted initial payment, wheel combustion insurance, and they cover precipitation, intervention of unhinged cattle… They cover cattle, too, actually. Hoof rot, calf scours, lumpy jaw, grass tetanus…’

‘I don’t need this.’

‘What?’

‘You’re trying to sell me something.’

‘No, I’m just looking for insurance.’

‘Goodbye.’

So something deeply and amazingly strange happened to me this afternoon. I took the Central Line out to Notting Hill to give some books to the book exchange. It’s been really stormy outside, and I’ve been really busy and stressed, and I was all-round generally pissed off at the Tube and the weather and just about everything else. 

I get to the steps, the ones from Notting Hill Gate leading down into the Tube, and someone beside me says ‘It’s really cold.’

My usual approach is to give people the benefit of the doubt and return pleasantries.

‘Yeah’. Smile and nod.

This person continues. I’ve not turned my head to look at them.

‘I mean, i just got back from Japan, and it was warm there, and now I’m back and… brr…’

They’re really going on.

Smile, nod. ‘Yeah, it’s fairly windy today’.

‘Pardon?’

Oh god, this person wants a conversation.

‘I said it’s really windy out.’

‘Oh yes, it is.’

We keep walking, and I am painfully aware that this person is walking directly next to me. This could be some old lunatic trying to follow me home, or the prelude to a really cack-handed mugging.

I’ve decided to just keep walking, and eventually, if he decides to follow me down the escalator too, I can just dart away on the platforms and lose him.

‘You need to be more positive.’

He says this. I look to my right and it’s an old man, Indian, I think. He’s wearing very plain, very normal clothes, and has a beanie hat and a clear plastic bag hanging from one hand, containing a six-tray of eggs.

I look at him. First thought, lunatic. Second thought, cult member looking for converts.

‘Sorry?’

‘You have a lot of positivity, you should do something creative with it.’

‘What?’

‘Yes but you need to avoid the negative thoughts. We all have them. Negative thoughts can be dangerous. It’s like the brain, people only using ten percent of your brain, you know? Keep positive thoughts, because they can be really powerful.’

I’m kind of stunned and all I can say is ‘yes’. And I’m smiling but it’s a lot more genuine now. The strangest part of this whole thing is the guy sounds like he knows exactly what he’s saying. He doesn’t sound even remotely mad.

‘You’re going through a very confused time right now. Very emotionally confused. But stay positive.’

I look at him in the eye. Sane.

‘That’s.. that’s all true.’

I say this. It’s all I can think. It’s true. It could be true of anyone, and right now it’s especially true of me.

We’re silent a while. 

‘Thanks’.

‘That’s ok’.

He’s smiling. I smile back and leave and get back on the Central Line, and I feel lightheaded all the way down the escalator, and onto the train where I sit down, and it’s only when that feeling blends into ear popping from being so far under Liverpool Street that I start to make sense of the whole thing.

This guy could be well-known as a madman or a guru or a well-meaning freak. I don’t know the area well enough. And London is full of such people, more than any other place I’ve been. Calcutta has enlightened screaming preachers and eunuchs in pink dresses. Cambridge has hopeless aggressive Big Issue salesmen with tattooed faces. In Dublin, every street has its town drunk.

But London is different, in that the crazies frequently go among us, and it’s only on YouTube that they show up spewing racism in Tube carriages or bursting through bus doors. 

Still, I think this was sort of different, in that whether or not this guy was mad, he was speaking a lot of sense. I’ve been very confused, very busy, ever since moving to this city, and I’ve questioned my decision to live here a lot in recent months. And for someone to offer this guidance, wholly un-asked for, at a time when I badly needed it meant a lot to me.

It’s true of everyone. We do need to think positive thoughts, and by practising what he preaches the Notting HIll impromptu guru has won at least one new convert.

I wanted so badly to pass this on. Not that we should speak to every crazy on the Tube. But that we should remember to be understanding of each other, and to be kinder to ourselves.

It’s rather a retro experience. And a new one, for me. I’ve never been hacked before. It’s embarrassing and annoying, yes, but at least at the end you’ve learned something and you get a shiny new password.

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