But if the sacrifice of his offering be a vow, or a voluntary offering, it shall be eaten the same day that he offers his sacrifice.
Every gardener knows that under the cloak of winter lies a miracle …a seed waiting to sprout, a bulb opening to the light, a bud straining to unfurl. And the anticipation nurtures our dream.
My Place is the placeless, my trace is the traceless; ‘I’ is neither body nor soul, for ‘I’ belong to the soul of the Beloved. I have put duality away, I have seen that the two worlds are one; One I seek, One I know, One I see, One I call.
The world is my country, all mankind are my brethren, and to do good is my religion.
It is a good practice to set apart at least one day in a year for the remembrance of one’s near and dear relatives, friends and learned people that are no more in keeping with our traditions; giving a new orientation to and infusing new life into practices that have become lifeless and meaningless to many.
