And finally, Gurudev arrives, holding a lotus in his right hand and dressed in full white, his hair waving rhythmically in the breeze. I kneel and wait for him to approach. As he draws nearer, I look up to him and he acknowledges me with raised eyebrows, which then turn into a smile. He pats my head with the lotus and moves on, the white angavastram caressing my face. On another day, after playing cricket with my new bat that cost only Rs. 3, I take my bat proudly and head home. Running on the rough hard soil of the pitch, sweating all over, a few runs scored, and then it’s my turn to bowl and field. As the sun begins to set on the western horizon, I know it’s time to go home. Once home, I wash my face and legs randomly, and as I enter the kitchen, my mother scans me and takes the end of her saree to wipe the sweat and water from my face. Even though I resist, the touch of her cotton saree across my face gives me comfort and reminds me of her unconditional love for me. As Gurudev walks away, the white sheet of cloth reminds me of my mother’s love, and then he turns back and smiles at me, confirming and acknowledging that he too loves and cares for me in the same way. Overwhelmed with gratitude and happiness, tears roll down my eyes as I realize that Gurudev will always be there for me, and will love me regardless of my mistakes. I bow down my head, close my eyes and sit silently until the emotions pass.