While there’s not a place the puckawalla hasn’t gone, from Hydrabad to Vrndavana
Our gang has only been to places at a distance of three hundred paces
But this outfit of orange and brown
Must surely break that down
Coupled with the yellow and red rose, two orange roses showing their faces ‘cause no other flowers could take their place, a few mums petal and leaf leis plus the new effulgence in honor of the Jiva Goswami tirobhava mahotsava this outfit soars to another level.
The pedaler’s spirits are also soaring today. On this the third day without rain to speak of they’re out in a happy mood respecting the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and the road. The wharf road leads on to the opal cliff. The joggers are on the left coming toward me as I pedal along. Between the lakes there are no sufferers or even joggers. The public radio goes on to the redone road. The theater is lit up since a doctor is going to explain the toxic world. The gecko isn’t going to listen but he still gives me a pound as I pedal by. The school is back in session and the students are on their way home as me and four fellow pedalers pass by. The west side triangle lets me go without comment. I speed along passing a line of three in training I tell them I’m on my way to the sandhya and they smile and nod. Returning I sing with joy as I pass the tree and cry out loud “Jayho!” then the arati awaits where even the president of the United States has to lay prostrate.
The clear night invites Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari to come out and enjoy their pastimes deep within the far off jungle. Chodders over the white and flower pattern with green and red trims keep them warm on this chilly night.