He attempts to stare me down, seems shocked at my display of appalling bad manners by interrupting his drama. When he sees that I am not about to be eyebrowed down, he pouts instead and sighs like a long suffering saint and goes back to his post.
The times I followed my guru ji through snake infested jungles, across flooded rivers and many other places that most sane people wouldn’t dare to step foot are now softened by fond memory and I have to remind myself how I moaned and cursed and cried too sometimes because it …
Shiva is the God of the times, a god more personal than the surge of the tide or the lofty forests at home. Here was a god who howled and loved like tomorrow didn’t exist, who had his heart broken a hundred times when Sati burst into flames. A God …
