Tempus Fugit

You started university (i.e. UK, not US) at the age of 19, one year after most of your friends. You had spent that year exploring India; trying to find the little nooks that tourism missed. You had met with reasonable success; staying in a remote village for one week and even finding one wizened little yogi in the foothills of the Himalayas.

This particular yogi had been impressed at the level of humility and enlightenment he found in you, westerners being arrogant and stupid more often than not. You soon became friends and the yogi decided he owed you, for opening his mind to the possibility of decent-minded foreigners. The yogi (mahaguru-genericpaki) had no money and refused point blank to tutor anyone in enlightenment, so you wondered at how he would repay his imagined debt.

Nothing had been done when you left him and India behind to continue your education (Oxford had accepted you and you were very exited), so you forgot the curious yogi and his debt. However, soon after you arrived at your college in oxford (you were still hung over from the end of fresher's week), a package arrived in brown paper. Knowing from the post marks that it must be from india, you assumed that your yogi now considered his debt closed.