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This
is
the
hymn
I
call
"
The
Amazing
Grace
of
Sanskrit
,
"
filled
with
devotional
longing
.
It
is
the
one
devotional
song
I
have
memorized
,
not
so
much
from
effort
as
from
love
.
I
begin
to
sing
the
familiar
words
in
Sanskrit
,
from
the
simple
introduction
about
the
sacred
teachings
of
Yoga
to
the
rising
tones
of
worship
(
"
I
adore
the
cause
of
the
universe
…
I
adore
the
one
whose
eyes
are
the
sun
,
the
moon
and
fire
…
you
are
everything
to
me
,
O
god
of
gods
…
"
)
to
the
last
gemlike
summation
of
all
faith
(
"
This
is
perfect
,
that
is
perfect
,
if
you
take
the
perfect
from
the
perfect
,
the
perfect
remains
"
)
.
The
women
finish
singing
They
bow
in
silence
,
then
move
out
a
side
door
across
a
dark
courtyard
and
into
a
smaller
temple
,
barely
lit
by
one
oil
lamp
and
perfumed
with
incense
.
I
follow
them
.
The
room
is
filled
with
devotees
-
Indian
and
Western
-
wrapped
in
woolen
shawls
against
the
predawn
cold
.
Everyone
is
seated
in
meditation
,
roosted
there
,
you
might
say
,
and
I
slip
in
beside
them
,
the
new
bird
in
the
flock
,
completely
unnoticed
.
I
sit
cross
-
legged
,
place
my
hands
on
my
knees
,
close
my
eyes
.
I
have
not
meditated
in
four
months
.
I
have
not
even
thought
about
meditating
in
four
months
.
I
sit
there
.
My
breath
quiets
.
I
say
the
mantra
to
myself
once
very
slowly
and
deliberately
,
syllable
by
syllable
.
Om
.
Na
.
Mah
.
Shi
.
Va
.
Ya
.
