For Harvinder
He can dance. It is not a dance inspired by the rhythms of musical convention but by the rise and fall of his breath, fed by faith and tempered by diligence. He is a brown whirling dervish, an alchemist of both matter and possibilities; all movements begin and end with a sure step, improvisations within an ancient frame. He wields the feared weapons of his people as surely as he holds to his belief in the eternal circle of Akal Purukh. And surely God must hold him likewise.
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