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"I will explain in detail. It was a religious song. I placed myself in the position of a milkmaiden. I say to Shri Krishna, 'Come! come to me only.' The god refuses to come. I grow humble and say: 'Do not come to me only. Multiply yourself into a hundred Krishnas, and let one go to each of my hundred companions, but one, O Lord of the Universe, come to me.' He refuses to come. This is repeated several times. The song is composed in a raga appropriate to the present hour, which is the evening."
"But He comes in some other song, I hope?" said Mrs. Moore gently.
"Oh no, he refuses to come," repeated Godbole, perhaps not understanding her question. "I say to Him, Come, come, come, come, come, come. He neglects to come."
-- E.M. Forster, A Passage to India
7 comments:
Incandescent.
Oh, thank you, Lori!
"suppose she came to carrying in her hands"
I think you are either missing a word ("you") or have a word too many ("to").
Although I suppose the goddess could be waking up from a conk on the head.
Just curious: was the sense of this
"wait, that God"
meant to be
"wait, THAT was God?"
Ah, thanks Nina! Fixed.
Nina, like, you're introduced to some guy name Barack Obama, and later you realize it was the president. Wait, *that* Obama?
I sit beside the beseecher.
"I'll take nothing. Let me know nothing at all."
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