Once upon a time, or however many times you like, two old sadhus sat deep in discussion in their native Bengali language. Not being able to understand I was left to guess but I thought best not to and just continue dressing Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari as I should. Still as their voices became more animated and the excitement level grew I couldn't help but wonder. Then one took the hand of the other and said, in English, “Die t o live!” I thought perhaps, as when another sadhu had asked a priest what he offered his Deities, these two were discussing what was being offered for the Madhya kalia bhoga offering.
The narcissus and jonquil leis today with their yellow color and the multicolored roses went well with the shade of yellow and olive of today's dress. “With the purple roses in Mahaprabhu's lei, it would go better with a purple outfit” the maker told me, but as the folks were singing this morning “all the plants, trees, creepers and flowers are dancing in the ecstasy of 'Gaura Prema'”
The overcast and dense fog gave way to enough sunshine to call me out for pedaling once again. Some several errands to be about under the watchful ratha-bhojana-vrksa not to speak of old toffee nose who is intensely alert to whistle any unforgivable sins in the form of fragments. The parking lots take me past the former palace of good King Midas and around the hospital curve over the Saint Dagwood river. Around the tennis park and the skull and cross bones. The east cliff reveals the unconscious sufferers as they think they are enjoying in the low tide. The soccer pitch is empty today so I go on through the village and back to the long and winding road to bow to the tree and check the vaikalika service. Back again to the florist shop and beyond. The gecko can't join today but waves encouraging words so I'll round shopper's corner. The triangle catches me for a few moments but chanting the “isvara sarva bhutanam hrd-dese 'rjuna tisthati bhramayan sarva bhutani yantrarudhani mayaya” mantra I break free of the spell and on to the harbor. Taking the left to the toad's house I see he's working out heavy. The basketball park is full of a pick-up game. The wharf road urges me on to the long and winding once again to fold my palms to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and return for the sandhya
A fitting and proper night for Giridhari full of fragments that sends the toffee nose into seven shades of ecstasy blowing his whistle and throwing his flag and just having a grand time. He tried on the new outfit he'll wear for Gaura Purnima before slipping into the nightdress for this evening, a lion on the chase.