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  • Writer's pictureNava Bharath

The Annual Saptah

It was that time of the year when we had to walk from Chickpet to the Ashram early mornings with the neighborhood kids for parayana. The sleepy walk compounded by the Sanskrit verses that I hardly knew or understood was only relieved by the occasional breakfast that was served promptly on time. It meant that it was time to rush back home and come back again to attend the School nearby. Of course, we used to wonder why not carry our School bags along and go directly to the School after. But we weren't allowed to do that for some strange reason. The 7 days of rhythmic clanging of cymbals, chants and aromas of flavoured rice lingered on and the ultimate slurp was the brown or the khakhi kheer that was served without asking. A big spoonful of Kheer that just spilled over the leaf if you didn't act quickly and manage the streams. A quick slurp of fingers would help.

The privileges were many

We could proudly tag along a school friend and show-off the community and host them over for the lunch. Most often the crowd would be so huge that we would get separated quickly if we didn't held hands. The School uniforms of greys and whites with a contrasting red tie was flaunted happily. It was our privilege pass to access all areas of the ashram and get to be seated in the first round of lunch.

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