Vrindaban: Strangers in a Strange Land: Journal of Vaishnava Studies

Abstract

The cymbols can be heard before sunrise as the night drones from a few scattered templesbegins to extend around that day. The morning sky is just opening. I pick up my dryu clothes from the line and get ready to make my way down to the river for a bath. This may be my last bath here for quite some time, and even though I am glad to be leaving, there is a strong feeling that I will one day return to Vrindaban.