Not good to be a fat man,
And mundane or even spiritual knowledge is just like fat
The devotees just make fun
Better to be a niropati man, just surrendered to Gurudeva’s whim
Carrying so many books around with you
So hard to find a place to store them too.
Be gurudeva whimsical or whamsical whatever he says to do
Just eat the Diet Olive and perfection will find it’s way to you.
Leis of fuchsia, marigolds, roses and petals light and easy to wear no chance movement will be impaired.
Pedal just as fast as you can offer respect to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and get to the lion’s park where the gecko is waiting. Climbing up to the wharf road clicking out at the top then left to the opal cliff. The soccer pitch has a big match going on with trophies on the sideline. Sea gulls are hovering around the point of the hook. A “pace line” of family members is in front of us and a pack of beasts is over our shoulder and behind. We have to pick the time and line to weave in and out of the family in order to keep our own pace. At the harbor the boats are out so we go on. Overlooking the mountain men who are trying what they’ve seen on Olympic trials. Some are laughing some are singing others are sitting down. The leaping monque is on the right and is there today unusual for a Sunday. The dog wash has blow dryers making “beautiful music” together. The redone road and the tennis park are in line. An alien waits within so we turn to go at a high rate. The wharf road splits us up. I go off to the long and winding and he to the shop. I offer more respect to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and the kalarupa who leads me along the road so the sandhya will be happy with me as I enter the asrama , come to blow the horn.
The cream and red Chinese silk offered on Nrsimhacaturdasi is smooth like milk but when the Lion catches the demon his is “The touch that kills” for he tears out the demons heart. In the cool of the evening Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari dance all night.