Tuesday, 1 March 2011

Saturday, February 26th, 2011


Mayapura, India

A man had just descended the tree to collect the sap. The container of juice was just right for the taste as the sap will ferment as the sun ascends. You consume it before the foam develops or you cook it down to a thick golden richness, if not then to a solid which is a brownish sweetener for preps. At this stage it is called jaggery.

The man spotted myself and a Slavic brahmacari coming down the trail (a trail with no name but running near the Jalangi River). With the pot of goodness in hand he tried to tempt us.

"Juice, juice, juice," he said with no mention of the rupee amount.

Resisting the temptation, the monk and I were determined to continue in motion on the trail, chanting on our beads.

I said "No! No! No!"

With a smile and a typical Indian head-waggle he responded with a "Yes, yes, yes!"

Jokingly I came back with a "No, no, no!" Our pace put him behind us but we will meet again for sure.

Now on the topic of fine drinks, I did indulge in a marvelous chicoo milk shake by nightfall. It is a blend of chicoo fruit and ahimsa milk. If milk is "liquid religiosity" (quoting our guru, Srila Prabhupada,) then this beverage is the king in the milk genre. Compliments of this are from Daru Brahman, an English teacher from the U.K. residing in this holiest of places.

Daru had come as a savior to our youth group at drama practice time. Our crew of 20 are hungry after a hard-working rehearsal so Daru showed up with the most scrumptious feast, the shake being the highlight.

7 KM

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