wearing the purple turban a top the white silk with green and purple rhinestones today with leis of lilies, leaves and dahlias first worn at the Janmastami party all were lost for words to describe their radiance later they lost themselves before Them dancing and chanting as if mad one said it looks as if Giridhari is Russian the turban has such shape as their eyes slid down through the white, purple and green to Their lotus feet, they once again appear other worldly Cycle Babble and i spin along the winding jungle path minding the fragrance of eucalyptus and honeysuckle and the songs of birds tracing the beach watching the sufferers on their rock sea lions have formed a herd crossing the natural bridge rising and falling with the trail of wilder ridge back down the beach hill at the shop i take my leave thank him for the thrill he goes on seeing the bear under the first highway vaikalika his only care the Kernel of divine love meets him raising his arms exclaiming "Lord above!" into the Chinese silk "the touch that kills" nightdress whose darsana brings material desire to nill