Dusting up! said Spotty, Go back to sleep.
I wasn't sleeping, I was practicing self-enquiry, answered Stripes, a little annoyed at being disturbed.
Little six-month old Spotty was removing layers of dust and cobwebs from the tables and chairs and furniture.
What has possessed you? asked Stripes really surprised.
Some devotees are coming over, from far far away.
How far, enquired Uncle Stripes, almost awake now.
Spotty dusted and turned the globe on the table. Here is where we are, and there, across the pond is where they are coming from.
Thats a huuuuge distance, son. It's not exactly a pond, its a huge ocean, I believe. It would take them ages to reach here.
They land tomorrow morning!
Tomorrow! Land! said Stripes, aghast.
They are flying in by dragon, and should be in time for iddlies and saambaar. I am getting some lassi ready in case they find the saambaar a tad hot for their western palates.
Stripes looked around the cave. Apart from the desk on which Father's photographs stood, and the other pictures on the cave walls, the rest of the cave looked quite ... like a cave should look ... dirty and dusty.
See, I have written a little poem for my lion bwuthers.
Lions did you say, asked Stripes shivering. (Lions frightened him.)
Stripes read the poem slowly:
Lord, people find their joy in things of this world
What they see in it, i do not have eyes to
I find my joy in You, You are my love,
my eternal love.
Your eyes are my favorite jewels,
my eyes see only You.
I hope Mum Lioness approves, asked Spotty nervously. It's my forst poem.
