Now when I was back there in Pujari School
They taught us don’t become familiar with the Lord
Become familiar with the Lord.
Spending my days in Gurudeva’s asrama
He told me a story I thought for me impossible
In Puri the Lord comes out to ride on his chariot
Only one way to get him to travel
By lining the walk with fat cotton pillows.
Taking him from one pad to another
A crack so loud and the air fills with cotton
To get him to move sometimes they use language so rotten
Until he’s on his asana
Offering a new crown it didn’t fit right
A little too small and the string made it too tight
And it’s getting harder to put this new crown
On his head
I gave in and said, “Look Dude! You are going to wear this crown, and like it!”
Perhaps it pleased him for he allowed it to sit on his head nicely after that
Gandharvika-Giridhari’s leis were of leaves and roses with a tiny orchid or two mixed in. Mahaprabhu’s is of narcissus flowers.
Someone came with a lei asking for it to be put in Gandharvika’s hair
“Oh” thought I, “you are unaware of how much it took to get the crown to stay there” but she allowed me to place it without further trouble
the gecko and I take off for the the ratha-bhojana-vrksa in a sprint. Into the southland we went. Off to the post office of Mahamuni’s post box and then to the snob hill rattling to the market and rebounding in the village below the opal cliffs, the point of the hook and between the lakes we go the harbor has all boats out as we see ourselves go by to the natasala and the shop where we take our leave I return for the festival of Gaura Purnima one hundred eight wick lamp and one thousand eight flowers picked by the Om Paramahamsa Thakura.
Changing them to the lotus nails Bhakta Blade says they will change to night right? Yes I reply. The reversible cloth one way looks green and the other orange. It all depends on your angle of sight. In spite of the chill they dance all night and rest from the celebration day.