Three came from the east nila, aruna, and syama
Their servants come to find
Representatives of these three said to live then come to die
Path to the highest that’s what they’ve said
‘till your former self is dead
hyacinth and orchids make the leis
light and fragrant following them no matter which way
No one gets out of these clutches
Not by austerity, nor by penance or any ordinary plan
Without the mercy of the representatives of nila, aruna and syama
LIVE in the arena of pure consciousness
The gecko and I once again strike out in a “sucker hole” to respect the ratha-bhojana-vrksa on our way to the main road. The bridge over the first highway and the whalers are on the left. The roads are wet but we don’t replay the crash of the heavy peddlers yesterday. Past the house that taught choc-o-lot to talk-a-lot and to the left there to take the help of Ms. Gault to avoid the triangle. Around the corner to the reviewing stand and then to the natasala where one goes right and one goes left and one goes through the peddler’s ramp I go down the big road to the long and winding to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and bow my head the kalarupa and I race to the sandhya.
Pralad-a-dad this evening the panel skirt for Gandharvika and vest for Giridhari as they take rest early and then on to their evening pastimes