As he swings not under the kadamba tree with Radha as his consort,
But in sending you, feel the pains of being
Into the hands of the brokers and middle men,
Brokering the bliss and deliverance.
The context is one of the old, abandoned, hopeless, helpless and hopeless woman
Sitting before the ashrama doorway
And I thinking within,
Should I salute her or the deity inside, of Bhagabati,
Just like the Kabirite dilemma,
The teacher and God standing before and whom to bow before
And God telling about the teacher to be touched?
Again, my memory taking me back to my early days,
When I sucked the breast of my child widow aunt
Who turned a widow just at the age of nine,
Who reared and fostered me as her own son;
The pains of Yasoda I can feel them,
Of nursing and making one grow up.