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and so I can say that that's not how he ended up, but that's what he was doing for 10 years.

And I wrote this for him.

Ashes of desire.

Flower buds will always remind me of your puja, the little altar you adorned each day with delicate flowers and luscious fruits, the offerings of a young man to know gods in particular, just worshiping the notion of life as good.

You lit the candles with such reverence, pulled your body into the yoga position that best held you as you chanted your way to bliss.

You smudged your forehead with Vibhuti, the ashes, you said, of desire, and then simply closed your beautiful eyes and breathed.

That's beautiful.