Tricked out and defined, his head proud, high. Their hands pat his hide; send ochre dust, diffuse motes sparkling, flying skywards. Swaying sure footed he lumbers. Adorned with bells whose jingle jangle make pretty the thudding rhythmic tumbling beat. Head-dressed red, orange, gold. He’d dance for them if he could. Small adoring eyes survey the throng enthralled. Careful toes spread soft the tread, make lightness from his princely gait. Hailing high the trumpet cry, up, out and loud above the quailing crowd. Peace, hush, he comes. Ganesh’s twin. Handsome, proud and strong. Bearing all the love of the world.