Subjective interpretations of a constantly changing and ultimately nonexistent reality
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Swamiji
Come! Come! He said to me, sitting in his small shrine, where he sat every morning blessing people who frequently came to visit him. When I set down beside him he painted the ochre dot on my forhead and tvinned a bracelet out of cotton yarn to put around my wrist. He blessed me and said: "you belong to my family! I will always take care of you!"
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