Viprasta hoped he will be given a better temple next year, but for that he will need to serve the visiting nobles well. Although the temple where he was a priest was one of the smallest in Vanpore, it was popular on Dhi because everybody worshipped the child form of Sarvabhu on the day. Once he reached the temple, Viprasta started decorating Sarvabhu’s statue. The dog yelped in pain, and ran as far away as it could. But Viprasta picked up a large pebble, and hit the dog hard. A street dog came running to him, wagging its tail, in the hope that Viprasta will give it something to eat. His head was still spinning due to his plunge into the cold water that morning. The robe smelled partly of a damp old wooden box, and partly of a fragrant pandanus flower. Viprasta wore his best maroon Tapasi robe, the one he wore every year on the day of “Dhi”. He knew that his owner is a man of his words, and will do as he says. “You are becoming lazy, you need a flogging.” Viprasta said, by way of a warning. His ceta, a slave boy of ten, was up and had plucked fresh flowers for the god of gods, Sarvabhu. It was still dark outside, and there was a lamp burning in his house. He got out of the water, and walked towards his house. He then stood in the water, chanting the hymns he knew by heart, and hated, since his childhood. He wanted to take a hot water bath, but instead he took a plunge into the lake’s freezing water. He wanted to sleep till noon, but instead he got up before dawn. Viprasta did a lot of things he didn’t want to.
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