still i remain, the same— after all that has to be i choose to be aware in your devotion [one pointed] yet your glamor— in the form of thoughts still push me away; i tell you that i am always— engaged in offering you— all that but i fear that what i have left to offer you— when whatever there it is, it is already you, everything— then why am so insecure? about what can i offer new! huh, have i not been devoted to you? —— ashutosh ——