Parashu paused, and turned his axe slowly in the rays of moonlight. The mule snorted and pricked up its ears. Parashu stretched his arm towards the animal, as if to indicate that he could not reach to pat it. Then he continued.
‘The mouse knows more about nature than anyone I know. She — of course, he calls her Kali — she is the only one he is prepared to worship. Because she is impervious to his worship, blind to the guiles and prayers of her creatures, as deaf to the honeyed charm of Krishna as to the dumb writhings of your worm. Both are subject equally to her laws. The mouse would say that the man is fortunate indeed who is able to weigh the laws of Kali without having to suffer from their weight. And he has suffered. First they call him a sorcerer; then, when he shows them that there
