Sweet Lord

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Sweet Lord appears in mysterious ways to satisfy his devotees. Juggernaut discovers this while living on the Big Island, Hawaii.

Submitted: May 04, 2013

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Submitted: May 04, 2013

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Sweet Lord

Subba Rao

 

A dip in hot pond near Pahoa is the most relaxing experience on east side of the Big Island. The geothermal heat warms the water that slowly flows through a pond built adjacent to the ocean. During high tide, seawater flows into the hot pond keeping it fresh. Lava rock on the floor of the pond could hurt the feet if not watched carefully. Some boisterous fish can also bite the feet. Sitting on concrete slab built along the pond interior wall is therapeutic.

Living few miles from the pond, it became a routine for Juggernaut to spend time at the pond on a regular basis. At the pond, Juggernaut met quite a few interesting characters; ‘Mango Man’ an 80 years old artist was one of them, over the last several decades his paintings in hundreds were sold on greeting cards worldwide. A man from Long Island, New York; came to Pahoa on a short vacation 15 years ago and never went back. He said he lost contact with his wife and never saw her again. He was at the pond every day, seven days a week bottom fishing for lost jewelry. When Juggernaut was struggling to swim, came Bella for rescue, a swimming instructor on vacation, among her valuable tips; never close eyes and keep breathing while swimming and the moist important tip of all; flip over to float on your back to avoid drowning.

The parking lot at the pond was full of pot holes like craters on the moon but the rest of the grounds were well kept with plenty shade trees. Local people gather all the time to picnic under the shade of the trees.

“I love Krishna,” the voice caught Juggernaut by surprise as he was changing his clothes next to his car in the parking lot.

“You mean Hare Krishna?” Juggernaut turned towards the friendly looking person.

“Yes, the same sweet Lord.” The man in slender body was covered with colorful tattoos depicting peacock feathers and fruits and humming birds in flight with long beak siphoning off sweet sap from colorful flowers.

“Well I am a Hindu and we worship Lord Krishna and all his other avatararas,” replied Juggernaut.

“I know that,” he said introducing himself as Shane. “When I saw I know you are Indian, like many Indians I am a vegetarian,” said Shane extending his hand towards Juggernaut.

“Well, I born into a vegetarian family but now I eat meat occasionally,” Juggernaut was apologetic.

“The western world polluted you man,” Shane gave a big laugh.

Shane explained that he was graduated with a degree in mechanical engineering from Oklahoma and worked few years in Costa Rico. On returning home, he could not readjust living in US. “Too much consumption and waste in America, I couldn’t stand any more so I came to live in the rainforest among the hippies. Here, we do our own thing and the cops don’t bother us like on the main land.” Shane lighted a pipe loaded with marijuana and took a deep drag.

“Well, whatever makes you happy,” Juggernaut wants to please Shane.

“Yeah man, I love it here, I live in the hippy community not too far from here.”

“I saw quite a few hippies in the area here, I love peace loving people like you,” Juggernaut sounded too patronizing.

“We grow all our food organic, no poisons,” Shane looked at Juggernaut with a strange look.

“Organic is good,” Juggernaut agreed.

“We perform yoga and give free lessons for anybody interested. Neighbors always drop by to collect vegetables for a small donation you know,” Shane was talking while resting on the grounds in the shade of a` huge tree.

“That’s a good living away from the hustle and bustle on the mainland,”

“We love everything about sweet Lord particularly dancing with milk maids,” Shane continued to smoke weed.

“You know Krishna was one of the incarnations of God Vishnu. Krishna dancing with milk maids was was more symbolic than real,” Juggernaut tried to separate the true image of Krishna from perceived view of Krishna as a symbol of free love, the hippies like most.

“On full-moon nights, our commune members dance on black sands at Kahena beach, you should join us,” Shane was half-asleep from smoking weed was lying down flat on the grass now.

“Sure,” Juggernaut was hesitant.

“You can’t get any closer to nature than dancing in nude in the moon light on shinny black sand, clothing is optional at Kahena beach you know,” Shane was babbling now as if he was hallucinating.

“Sweet Lord works in mysterious ways,” prayed Juggernaut quietly leaving Shane in deep sleep under the tree.

 


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