I had turned the corner and was twenty feet down the alley
way to Loi Bazaar before my brain registered what my ocular orbits had seen
clearly 10 seconds ago.
“Cow.tail.tassel” ….
was the code that finally made the synaptic leap to
connection.
I stopped.
Oh the possibilities…if I was brave – and quick - enough to
retrace my steps and grab the dirty black clump of bovine hair.
“….and woven into the hemp, recycled silk sari and hand spun
Kashmiri wool, is a little piece of sacred cow hair picked up on the streets of
Vrindavan.”
The seductive imagery won. Pivoting, eyes to the ground, brain fully connected and in
on the hunt, I headed back the way I came.
Amid stares of astonishment and disbelief from the rickshaw
drivers and Sunday afternoon shoppers, I scooped my treasure from the muddy
ground and lovingly, carefully placed it in my purse as though I’d just found a 20-dollar bill.
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