I Wrestle God At The Wadi

I was left alone last night, and wrestled with a man (if I may call him a man) until the break of day. And it wasn't the Pink Professor -- would that it were, the territory would be familiar, being virtually identical to my own.

I fought like a banshee -- a banshee that's really trained for fighting. I fought so hard, the guy I fought saw he could not prevail. Only he touched the curvature of my belly, admittedly bigger than it should be this close to my next doctor's appointment, and I became immediately hungry. The longer we wrestled, the more desperately I wanted to break for a sandwich.

But of the two of us, who said uncle first? Him! He said, "Let me go, for the day is breaking!" I went, "It does every morning about this time." Then I cried, "I will keep my grip until you bless me." The lesser not usually the blesser, this was awesome, but I'm thinking he let me win. Still, I'll take my power where I find it.

He asked my name and I told him. I won't withhold my name if someone really needs it. Of course I don't bandy it around online much, because I'm paranoid about my future viability. But for someone I've clutched all night, if he doesn't deserve it, no one does. In response, he told me that my name and standing would be greatly enhanced, as it was his pleasure to give. "As a prince have you power with God and men and have prevailed."

Then I asked his name. Of course I was curious. He balked at the question, and squirmed, but I tightened my grip. He saw the pink light of day peeking over the horizon and finally coughed it up, "Shankar Bhagwan, the creator."

We spoke theologically (mythologically, same thing) about the Sembar tree, and he confirmed that indeed the holy spirits live in it. Then he noticed how I'm balding and chuckled. We both chuckled about it, as we remembered how he'd created three great trees from three hairs pulled from his body. In jest, I said, "I still have enough hairs on my body -- all told -- to come up with a forest. But if there's any similarity between the type of hair and the tree it produces, it might be a forest of kinky shrubs. But the bare spot on my calves would make a great clearing in a savannah."

I was very glad that I'd read at least the first few pages of his book, "The Night Life of Trees"! Because of that, and the vise-like grip I had -- and I could've crushed the nuts of one very potent nearby tree -- he blessed me there. I relaxed my hold.

I called the name of the place, Peepul, after the Peepul tree, the creator's home, worshipped by Hindus and the forest people alike. What a morning! I reflected, I have seen Shankar Bhagwan face to face, and I've lived to tell about it! Then as I passed over the stream of Peepul, the sun rose on me, and I felt the tummy ache, my hunger pangs still there and getting worse.

Therefore, my people -- the vast issue from my loins (it could happen, given the right combination of Cialis and women) -- will not cease having appetites and regular meals forever, because he touched my belly, and the pangs of hunger overcame me at the wadi.

Note: This is based on Genesis 32:24-32, and "The Night Life of Trees," by Bhajju Shyam, Durga Bai, and Ram Singh Urveti. It's quite a lovely book, published by Tara Publishing. It's handmade, each page being silk-screened by hand on black paper. The above picture is from the first few pages. There's no page numbers.