Look who’s in the hood today?
Expanding the field of real bhajana in the most refined way
While Giridhari dances in his waistcoat and cloak red white and black “Oh, Govinda, I shall not fight”
Mahaprabhu dances at the sight to assist taking him back
Isn’t enough to make even the most patient fall from the tops of their trees of developed theistic intellect?
Around the ratha-bhojana-vrksa the gecko and I fold our palms and sprint to the hospital curve and over Saint Dagwood’s river. The tennis park is empty because of the windy day. The sufferers are in too ‘cause the tide is out. The cold has left town for a day or two and peddlers of all persuasions are out in force. The teams in their colors and the cruisers with their boards, the fixed gear freaks and recreationally inclined are swirling around the triangle. The harbor has the boats tethered as the wind cries out long. The opal cliff has the usual mix of peddlers, sufferers and joggers and we come up upon a pack of joggers making them scatter. On the wharf road the lights are out and at the long and winding I take my leave retreating to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa to bow my head and pull the kalarupa all the way to the sandhya.
They call East Bengall the Radhadesa since the Ganga doesn’t flow there and all the temples are heavenly cloud, or baby blue. Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari wear that night dress tonight. In the cool breeze they may just try dancing under the constellations and the waning moon.