Calcutta, India — Sunday, November 9th
Just a minute!
As he bit into the sandwich, somebody shouted, "Prabhu! It's ekadasi!"
He hesitated, mouth half-full... then swallowed uncomfortably.
"Too late!" he said, lifting his chin to ease the barely-masticated bread past his bobbing Adam's apple.
He had already broken the ekadasi vow, he reasoned, so he might as well enjoy the tasty, toasted cheese sandwich... He took another bite.
"I'll observe ekadasi tomorrow," he mumbled uneasily, justifying his indiscretion more to himself than to anybody else.
And the embodiment of sin, Papa Purusha — who defiles the bodies and contaminates the consciousness of all the sinful, ignorant and unwary souls who eat grains on ekadasi — smiled wickedly.
"This is how I survive," he said, rubbing his hands together in glee, "in foolish persons like this. If told the bread was poisoned, he would spit it out immediately! How is it that he is not afraid of me?"
Layout by iMonk — November 9th, 2008.