Shakin’ Stick Nick’s Spicy Path to Enlightenment

Our Shakin’ Stick Nick, in the hopes of quieting his conscience, and perhaps his ego, decided to trade his aviator hat for a Buddhist monk’s robe in the bustling city of New Delhi, India. You see, a quick escape to a temple after his “flower power” incident with the CIA and the Yucatan women Las Chicas Salvajes, felt like the right thing to do – for about five minutes.


Nick’s enlightenment mission had barely taken flight when he was struck by an entirely different kind of turbulence – Maryam, the gorgeous Indian woman with a heart as inviting as her spicy samosas. She was a vision in her white sari, eyes sparkling brighter than the Taj Mahal under the moonlight.

Maryam extended a simple invitation: “Come, Shakin’ Stick Nick, let me show you the real path to enlightenment – through your stomach!” Nick, who had always been a ‘go with the flow’ sort of guy, readily agreed, trading meditation for masala.

He arrived at Maryam’s humble abode, which, much like his beloved Foggy Crosswind Airport, seemed to be in a constant state of organized chaos. Maryam masterfully navigated the clutter, her skilled hands throwing together spices and ingredients into a simmering pot.

Nick attempted to help, but his aviator’s hands were more accustomed to navigating flight controls than chopping onions. He soon found himself with teary eyes and a nicked finger. Maryam, laughing, swooped in with a band-aid, some consoling words, and the promise of a meal that would “make him forget all about the Yucatan and the monastery.”

The feast that followed was nothing short of divine. There was curry that brought tears to his eyes, biryani that made him moan in delight, and naan bread that seemed to melt away all his guilt. His quest for enlightenment, while sidetracked by the siren call of Indian cuisine, seemed to have found a new path.

For Nick, the taste of Maryam’s home-cooked Indian food and everything that followed was the closest thing to nirvana he’d ever experienced. The sound of her laughter was more soothing than any meditation chant. His monk’s robe was soon forgotten in a corner, collecting dust. After all, why seek solitude when the company was so delightful?

Thus ended Nick’s monkhood, in a haze of curry and the promise of dessert. His brief flirtation with Buddhism gave way to his new love – Indian cuisine, and perhaps, the charming Maryam. His motto for life got a spicy upgrade: Fly high, land low, and when in doubt, let your stomach guide you.