one hos town; hampi

i’m sorry, but it’s true.

i know because i stayed in hospet for an entire week.

well five days, anyway.

and commuted faithfully to hampi every morning.

not that i have anything against hosses,

singular or plural. and i am fond even of macaques.

and langurs. and rock pigeons and hoopoes.

they are fine upstanding people – especially the langurs.

(how one manages to meet a langur and not find

that it is eerily similar to all one’s relatives

i do not know.)

hampi is where myth and history meet.

they smoke together.

noisily. redly.

they brawl and they collapse

and out of their nostrils flows such stuff as religions are made on.

rocks, rivers, and gods gods gods

rolling madly in the dust.