To an old friend on the promenade
Like a hermit, Petra had once camped out on the slopes of Arunachala, the holy hill of light in Tiruvannamalai that makes the temple town such an incredible place of (Shaiva) worship. If it had been up to her, she would have stayed there. On returning home, she would vow, 'Never again', only to backtrack when her irritation with the holier-than-thou attitude had worn off.
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