She asked me how long I'd been a preme and chanted sixteen rounds a day. Even though I knew the answer I knew it was best not to say. Didn't she have a calendar? Was it just too well hid? Because when I asked if this was the outfit for Govardhana Puja she just flashed a preppy smile and said, “shut up kid!”
“I'm going to Navadvipa for sixty-four days. I only wish it could be for more. We'll go up to Gurudeva's veranda and be sitting on the floor. I'm going to take both my children won't that be rad? It will positively the best Christmas vacation that they've ever had.” The leis maker told me today. I replied, “No more pencils, no more books, no more teacher's dirty looks, huh?” “And we'll be living in the jala mandir seva asrama where Bengalis and Russians, Americans and Latinos ride bright shinny rickshaws I've got an ipod that turns into a flashlight.
Leis of spray roses and heavy metal sunflowers in the center that pull them toward their lotus feet and pleases old toffee nose who pompously drags his green pen under this sentence.
The ratha-bhojana-vrksa awaits my folded palms and then Mahamuni's post box is expecting to see the gecko and me also. Then we go laughing through the village one more time. Bouncing along the opal cliff the alert orange man says the crew will finish the paving tonight. From the point of the hook we go around the soccer pitch and then nip and tuck to the toad's place. He comes out to join us for the first time in a long time. The natasala has a new world disorder tonight and the people are standing in line already. We take the corner and the three of us pass in review to the triangle. The gecko needs to take his leave so the toad and I go on to the harbor and then between the lakes where the sufferers are celebrating the return of warmer weather. At the costume house the toad takes his leave and I go on to the big road and the long and winding. There is team training for something and I tag along for a couple of miles even past the ratha-bhojana-vrksa where I bow my head. The kalarupa falls in line. At the asrama I take my leave and blow the horn for the sandhya.
The moon is getting smaller now and so Guru-gauranga Gandharvika-giridhari stay in tonight even though they've dressed up in their deep within the far off jungle dress.