Mamoni
The clouds were full of ink, and the beach was dead silent except for the gentle waves, which didn't seem to care much. The shower came almost in a hurry, rain falling in wild anarchy, the gusting wind carrying them in wild swirls one moment, a straight downpour in another, and diagonal slaps the very next. I deserved it. Every bit. He was disappointed in me...I had failed him. The mist created by the downpour and the ocean stood between us. I had found him quite by chance that day near the Scripps Pier in San Diego, watching the neon bioluminescent waves, the air smelling of sulfur. He wore a long robe the color of ash. Intermittent sparks of lightning illuminated his face and the long flowing hair and beard, the color of a pearl. “Shosroddho Pronam Kobiguru.” I tried hard. He was startled by the name, then let a smile unravel, the most tender, like dew on a maple leaf. “You are right; I was remembering you for a long. This is my fifteenth year teaching- Where the mind is with