Rich silk creamy beige with flowers on the chodders, flowers on the veil, flowers all around, flowers up and down. It all began on nine years ago at Radhastami time. Two of the folks had given the cloth. The seamstress was waiting for the right time to make it into the offering and now the time had come, SGM was here Radhastami was here; the help was here so it all came together. Mahaprabhu’s orange kirta and sash, Giridhari’s chodder of the similar hue like the boarder on Gandharvika’s veil something to unite them all. The leis maker confessed, “I escaped during this one and so it’s not symmetrical I hope Mahaprabhu is merciful”
O ratha-bhojana-vrksa how you watch over all of us that travel this road not only in the sunshine plane but also in the days of rain. Then on to where the gecko wraps around the wheel and waves at all who pedal by on the way to the railroad bridge and the skateboarder’s arena. Bundled up like those from the east, they loop-de-loop and defy the ground. The giant takes leads on to Bhakta Blade’s bhajana kutir and to the natural bridge where only the sea lions look on. The marine museum is there waiting for the turn around to the boardwalk and the sufferer murti who wears a chodder of his own in this cold time on the beach. Passing the astanga yoga institute and making the right to the harbor on to the twins between them up to the windmill. The cove is waiting with a bon fire or two. The wharf road brings me back to the long and winding to thank the tree for another trip. The sandhya is waiting and I arrive before the tag.
Most blessed event this evening. They were off to their nighttime pastimes quickly tonight. Chodders in spite of the warmer night with the rain and fog they may take a walk outside.