It is your bday today, o’ blue skinned one. Last night the temple bells must have rung clear, last night the conch shell echoed, to the fragrance of incense and jasmine, the delight of followers you must have been welcomed into the world. All well and good, but what to do? I’ve seen you in the swishing of the palm frond, in the march of stately trees lining an avenue, a tree holding up the sky, the clouds silver outlined, in the roar of the surf and the swish of the tide, talked to you the most intimate secrets in the whistling whooosh of a gale, marveled at the power in the thrust of the rocks out of the ground. So I wondered and so I celebrated, with long remembered songs from sepia school concerts and music lessons; kamal lochan kati pitamber, adhar murali giridharam…