Prose 500 2015 FeaturedWriter Shashi Angelee Deodhar

Quo Vadis?

A brisk breeze stirs grasses on the sand banks of the Holy River, a hymn to it reverberates on the IPod as I walk barefoot into the shallow water, offer it up to the sun while wild ducks call and a vee of gulls flies across the rising orb, silvering the sand.
water- worn boulder
so smooth now
against callused feet
 

Cows coming down the stony path to the river, stop wait for us to pass.They are better behaved than the commuters during rush hour on their way to nowhere pushing shoving heedless of the aged or the slow ,while this gentle rusty brown creature pauses to one side, looking at me with questioning soft brown eyes, not skittering away nervously but waiting quietly for me to pass her on this narrow incline back to the ashram. Having learnt from her courteous patience I bow to her bovinity and mindfully wait and allow other cows to go past me .

                                                                                                    footsore -
                                                                                       outside the temple, I try on
                                                                                              a comfortable pair