I got word that a friend from Australia, past away... "physically departed the premises" oka past away at Hotel in Everest.

the sadness did not really hit me under early hours in the morning. memories of yoga underneath a Eucalyptus treeful of parrots...his rigid balancing pose, the hunt for boxing kangaroo emblems...the search for tasmanian devil and his chivalrous flight at the commotion of possums (he left me behind, this brings me amusement)...surprise me the details that return, his generous application of gel and mosquito repellent, cologne and all things fragrant inspire moans from our group...my tears came from sadness but also joy and laughter, for the gift of these memories, for him.

I thought about floating out a fire offering on a leaf with a parcel of my favorite apple pie on the river gange.

Instead, I flew a kite for him. on its banks. A red indian patang, diagonal shaped with a small blue patch on bottom tip. It lifted swiftly and soared in the strong morning wind. On three occassions, it plummetted, the first two times, I was able to rescue with a few desperate tugs. The third, the river took. we fished it out. A piece glimmering with sand to the wind and the rest buried on the side of the boulder where the sunset light graces.

During its flight, the kite inspired much happiness and smiles...and brought a curious bunch of people together, a beach yogic recluse, a chai (tea) seller, BabaG(ashram temple caretaker), and a me.