JUST THEN ARJUNA emerged carrying a large conch onto the tee-block platform. The old man made his self present amid this incredible earthly activity on tremendous scale.
Walking and breathing with some effort, underneath the illuminative shade of his somewhat overlarge, rainbow-colored umbrella, the old man gratefully unsaddled and set down his pack, his self sitting and resting on it. He sat ruling the roost from there in the center of this fantasma.
Arjuna had a boyish grin on a deeply tanned face. His experienced smiling eyes, great gifts from having seen so much of this world with a quite balanced attitude, showed bright while sparkling intense depths.
The old man's hair was still dark in places in the back. Mostly, though, his hair looked like puffs of white clouds, not too unlike Lord Indra’s who playfully stole heavenly cows in the Vedas tale. His hair behind his ears also had the color of clouds, though a touch rain-bearing. Now his hair went up with the breeze that rolled in over the valley.
Arjuna was kitted out in synthetic black pants that were modern and popular for trekking. To Nicolas, however, the old man appeared to be of the (Read full article)