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Showing posts from October, 2006

Veils and things

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I spent those nights in Radha Kund; I had one long dream of Vrindavan. And I awoke, hearing shukas and sharis, watching the sunlight waft over the smooth and spotless sheets of my North American bed. I thought to myself: Surely Radha and Krishna have left me a garland; surely there is a legacy of prema left by this dream that will embrace the world, that will envelop it like a veil. But as I look again, I see that I was given a strange gift--a sword, which runs me through, which beheads my world, which punctures all my colored balloons. I am exposed: Am I unable to carry the sword of conviction, though like a beast of burden, my back has been made strong from bearing the bricks of so many sweet theories? Unlike Rabindranatha's maid, my yes is not so ready made. ============================= Rabindranath's poem. I thought I should ask of thee - but I dared not - the rose wreath thou hadst on thy neck. Thus I waited for the morning, when