Another sunny day in paradise.

In the morning, Bodhilama and Palda chat over breakfast about politics, tokenomics, and Palda’s family. They sip their brew, which always makes Bodhilama dizzy—so he only drinks half, watering the sunflowers with the rest. Marhta doesn't want to waste any of the precious brew, but insists on drinking the whole jug. While Palda orders his fourth one, Bodhilama sneaks the brew into the plants.

After breakfast, they head off to harvest field B89. Bodhilama swears they've harvested it before, but whenever he tries to recall, dizziness takes over.

They’ve been here for two months now, ever since Martha invited them to stay and help. At first, it was bliss: warm sun, good food, a soft bed, and plenty of free time. But now each day blurs into the next, dull and unchanging. The work seems endless, wrapped in a cloak of mediocrity.

Marhta comes to bring both of them some lunch & juice.

Palda frowns his eyebrows.

"This is not enough food, Marhta. I could eat all of this alone."

"It is okay. I am fasting today. You can have my portion."

Palda murmurs into his beard:

"Phaah, fasting! Why would someone choose to not eat?

Marhta replies only:
"Give to those who want and leave those who don't."

Then she turns around, plumbs into the grass & starts eating her lunch with jerky movements.

After harvesting the field, the three of them go back to the inn for some dinner. Although Marhta's cooking skills had diminished over time, her signature dish, a mix of Khidcheri & Kimchi, called Kimdcheri, did not suffer. This recipe seems to be ingrained in her brain.

Some weeks earlier Bodhilama had asked which masalas she used.

Her answer vibrated with pride:

‘Cumin seeds sautéed in ghee, garlic and onions. My grandma taught me this recipe when I just learnt walking on two feet. She said ‘Child, the day will come when there is nobody there and you have to take care of yourself. Eat this, than, child, and your grandma will be with you'.’

"Where did you find the ghee, Marhta?"

"Ghee is there, in the back of the fridge."

"But yesterday..."

"Yesterday, doesn't matter Lama. The now, that's what matters."

"Yeah, I agree with you, yet I really would like to know..."

"Listen, ghee is like everything else. Just a possibility in this current time & space. One day it is there, the other day it can be dead. If you observe it you will see that it is both the same while one negates the other.
So there is nothing."

Marhta falls silent and her bored eyes penetrate very deeply into Bodhilama.

"Okay, Schrö...."

"My time is precious and the kitchen is calling. Enjoy your free time you two."

Said Marhta and trudged into the kitchen with long strides.

After dinner, Palda and Bodhilama usually play a little ‘bim’ with a little amount of fizzles, but today both are feeling more inwardly. While Palda nurtures his sword, Bodhilama goes into his room and sits at his altar. He needs to think about the next steps.

"Well, hammer is not the best option. They are way to fast."

"So, head it is this time."

"But what is my strategy? What can I do?"

"And what about Palda? Does he know?"

Bodhilama
uses his head.

These are the Letters of Bodhilama, a guy who lives in a time of transformation.
A guy who felt the urge to write, because nothing else made any sense.
A guy who is a student, teacher & creator of (wild)Planet108.
A solar punk finding his way on the game's journey of life.
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