Bats were flying in their usual silent way and monkeys were busting balloons. It wasn’t a circus act. The hairy climbers made it to the edge of the awning over the stage. One in particular grabbed the multi-coloured balloon arrangement and with his sharp finger nails went systematically from one bust to the next. There was one stubborn balloon, the last one, that wouldn’t burst, so very cleverly, the monkey sunk his teeth into it, giving it the biggest bang of all.
We were in stitches laughing at the unrehearsed show. The final deflation brought an uproarious applause.
Below the awning was the stage, where thirty grade twelve students from the Bhaktivedanta Gurukula and International School were about to receive their graduation awards. It is a boy’s school. The cultural program was a traditional Gotipua dance by primary boys. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gotipua
Very on-the-spot, I was made the Guest of Honour for the event, and was asked by the organizers to hand out certificates along with godsisters, Malati and Madri, to the worthy recipients. I was also asked, spontaneously, to lead a kirtan. “Your wish is my command,” I said to the person making the request.
It was a rouser of a kirtan and the participation in the chanting and dancing, almost reached the excitement of the monkey popping the balloons.
This was my main active event of the day. My gout has taken a turn for the worse, just when inflammation was on the decline. The obstinate foot is looking much like a balloon.
“Hey monkey, do you want to take a bite?”
May the Source be with you!