What I Remember Most About the Hare Krishna

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My friend told me that in their town they would bring an elephant with a golden headdress and seat that was empty.

But what I remember most about the Hare Krishnas, more even than the saffron robes, more even than the dancing and the odd Indian drums they would play, more even than the bald heads with one knotted tress, more even than the chant-chant-chanting, the chant and be happy cycle, more even than the prayer wheels and the images of Ganesha and others, more even than the curious resemblance of their Lord's name and my Own--what I remember most is breaded cauliflower fried in ghee.

From talking to them I learned that ghee is a type of clarified butter. From my own palate I learned that ghee is a type of tangible sunshine, a taste unlike any other. Cauliflower, meek mild, inoffensive, mostly tasteless cauliflower in ghee became the mightiest of vegetables, indeed, perhaps the mightiest of foods excepting only double chocolate chocolate chip cake. Ghee had a way of turning everything that was wrong right and making all things come into harmony. I looked deeply into the mysteries of the east and for a moment understood them as I rolled the ghee-imbued cauliflower around in my mouth.

What I remember most about the Hare Krishnas is the promise of endless meals of ghee cooked marvels--and for a while that was a temptation. But not enough. Nevertheless, I've been granted a taste of heaven here on Earth and it was amazingly simple.

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That puts a slightly different twist to the end of the story Little Black Sambo, when the tigers turn into ghee.

Yes, my literary tastes are at the four-year-old level currently, because that's what I read before going sleep currently.



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This page contains a single entry by Steven Riddle published on July 29, 2006 8:39 PM.

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