So many people there, so many colors & smells, such a clash of senses. The Pujari, hindu priest was a mature man, no older than Daddi but he definitel... works out. So this Pujari did his chants, blessed people & then for some reason my friends dragged me to be blessed by him. Don't know why since I was not Hindu, I never expressed interest in the hindu religion until Punjabi Daddi invited me to a nearby cement hut where the Pujari had all his candles, prayer beads & all these paintings of. We were almost out of the city before long and all but the handful of people headed out to my suburban community home remained.There were two stops to go, though, before we pulled out on to the four lane and continued on without stopping until we reached the little bedroom community I called home.It was the next to the last stop the woman got on the bus. She was alone at the stop and waved the driver to a stop as she stepped out to the curb. She seemed anxious to catch the ride, I thought. I. More

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