My nephew, whom I used to walk to nursery school, appears with hairline receding. I follow his car ,until a mammoth truck swings in between us, after which I am tailing a car similar to his that turns into the parking lot of a Thai restaurant. Out steps an Asian man, wondering why I was following him.

Tired and thirsty, lost in the hot pollution of an unfamiliar city, I remember that, with patience, bodhisattvas always appear. Thus, soon in the house of Brahma. Nature is inert, and cannot dance until Shiva wills it: He rises from His rapture, and dancing sends through inert matter pulsing waves of awakening sound, and lo! I am cool in my nephew's air-conditioned apartment.


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