It’s still early morning, the sun is starting to rise over the horizon, and it’s reddish—it reminds me of Srimati Radharani’s tilak upon Her beautiful broad forehead. And the glowing of the sun, the rays that it casts everywhere, paint the village nearby and the field in front of me a golden color.
There are flowers everywhere, and those flowers are growing in tall grass, knee-high grass, which sways to one side and then another. It’s like the way the Brijbasi’s sway under the winds of their pr
