He kept looking towards the sky while sailing in the water kept for cows. Big round button like yellow eyes. Chest wide open. His death was so fresh that it looked like he chose it. But why a predator like an owl die like that. Maharaj arrived and it made all sense of its happening. He got a royal burial. Vishwa arrived and exited like wind and the day went summer again. Quiet and sunny. But the train came again after 15 days and it left the desert quietly in the night time to the young river. Advertisements
Who is observing the observer? Are you in front of the camera or behind the camera ? Or are you the camera ? Do you realize the change Changing? We walked up to the oldest virgin man. The sevak of shiva sitting on a hill humourously. His skin was divided into small numerous lines. Once wrinkles turned into scales made on a snakes skin. But when his touch was as soft as wool. We walked seven steps together and then he sat away from the sun. He only ate once in a day, three spoons of rice may be else it gets stuck in his throat and a lot of water has to be forced into to get the morsels reach stomach. He was the most beautiful thing. It is not that Kali Yuga is bad. But the people who are satya, truthful. Who are one and connected with themselves, the one universal truth, for them it is still the old Yuga working.
World is the child of chaos or so it seems. Maharaj was expecting tea from a strange home when two bulls started sharpening their horns in front of an old white temple when a third one came. Tea was sweet. An old woman bowed to Maharaj and soon all including the bulls started walking in different directions. Jacky the panther roared all day so much that the sound became as usual as of crow’s to ears. I tried looking for him behind the Keekar trees but instead looked into my phone in front of the mountain on a real sun shine winter day. Jheeu came and complained about not getting his gun. I told him to cut some papaya and together we put pomegranate over it. By the time we could finish it Logar came laughing and told us he had fever.
The four rounds around fire and seven complexities. Sound of a marble like play of a mystic. Gaya left us to Kali and Logar. We moved around the Bodhi tree nine times and collected mud from the nine planets. We found a well and gave to the water some part rice, rawa and Lentils. Later while spreading mud around the bhairavi tree Maharaj found a small sculpture of Jesus. He laughed and kept it with him quietly. The leaves are falling. It is quiet again.
Today came the night of red flowers. It ended today with praying for the solar chord. It was also mauni Monday and women had fasted in the exchange for words. There was nothing sattvic about the day even though I tried to make it. It all ended without a moral. Without a story as if either it wasn’t needed or we weren’t important. The walk was like long. It didn’t feel long but sun had almost set and both had reached to aghora rhymes. The once magic when attained, when passed over turns to mundane. Life.is only breath. Every other thing a distraction.
Overlooking oneself costs expensively. Number twelve was also number three. A walk that looked simple turned into seeing baby spiders wearing yellow vests. The fire was cold today. The Pythagoras’s college. The 3D diamond. The triangles inside the circle. Three bodies and fouth’s face.