Tis the month of Phalgun, and the ground is whirling below a full golden moon. In a few hours it shall rise over Bengal, where so much and so many that are dear to me are waiting for its signal, and a dozen hours later it shall rise over the California hills and the bay. Between there and here the moonlight falling across the spinning planet will set off, in so many places, a most joyful clamoring of singing and dancing. The clap of cymbals, the trumpetting of conchshells, the ringing of bells and clay drums rolling out such sweet, sweet thunder. Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam. The whole universe is one family. May there be good fortune throughout the universe, and may all envious persons be pacified.
To be humbler than a blade of grass, more tolerant than a tree, and always ready to give respect to others--so very difficult to even contemplate, even with magnificent inspiration. I both ritually and informatively declare that I am quite useless and false at this endeavor, and feel somewhat useless even trying, but in honor of the day, I attempt to give my respects to all--those who have excelled at it already, and those who shall excel at it in the future, all far exceeding me. It is 520 Gaurabda, and if you are so inclined, have a Happy Gaurpurnima
And if you are not so inclined, have a nice, colorful Holi