SUNDAY,OCTOBER 21
As I’m looking out through the seva asrama
And my stomach squeals just a little more
A ricksaw full of foot dust and peacock feathers pulls up at the jal mandir’s gate
A mysterious lady in jari handled manatika, pierced through the Walla’s patka, smiles in my face parama anna possessed words quote “haven’t I seen you somewhere in Soquel or was it just an apparition?
And before I could ask “was it on the hook or the opal cliff?” my bike it screamed out in pain and the wheels of a recumbent dug deep ah but not as deep in my brain as the stick subji
As the parikrama went on I could see her words float along and collapse on my muddy sleeping bag so I picked them up then dusted them off and, Prabhu, you won’t believe what they said
“Use this silk and these feathers to make Guru Gauranga giridhari Gandharvika an outfit along with a belt in the center with peacock crowns
And you know it’s hard when bhakta abasa is your altar ego and you act as if you were he.
As I got the to hospital turn my father’s magic carpets made of unobtainium just wouldn’t let me. So going on forward but never straight I came upon the post office and ducked around there. The gecko waited with his stopwatch out and I rounded Saffron and Genevieve’s corner to the school and the cruiser king’s reviewing stand. Following the one-way direction and sprinting around the hospital turn from the opposite side I cross over saint Dagwood’s river. Keeping the tennis court on my left I meander between the lakes coming up to the windmill going down where fuzz like to jive then around bend where the mole’s hole is. Back along the trail of the over the hill gang to the point and then to the sugmeister general’s road passing the basketball park. Further along is the toad I say hey and see the recumbent team heading from right to left and salute as they go by. Crossing their street and back to the redone road to the theater. As I pass the gecko cries out “and down the stretch you come” circumambulating the dog wash and crossing the bridge once again another school is being built just before the bear’s house. Passing the fruit market and the soccer pitch I come to the wharf road and then the long and winding road back for the vaikalika and sandhya services.
The evening has that chill of autumn and the Chinese silk, the touch that kills they enjoy their pastimes with the ankle bells jingling throughout the night.