Amma Sri Karunamayi

arriving early morn in extremely cold wind. Ladies direct, looking like from a refugee camp, with their layers and layers of unmatching cloths, torn away by the wind.
We struggle towards the tent like in a movie about biblical plagues.
Inside, vision like a camp for catastrophy surviors with an imminent cholera outbreak. Tent torn by the wind. Wear white was the directive, but people now where what they can get hold off, including fluffy lilac kid's scarfs and dog's plankets.
Fires are lit; with the wind they produce quickly unbearable smoke that makes our eyes burn.
Amma arrives, nonchalant, simple, with a completely yellow face.
Talks about how not to wear black, or receive black things, or eat cucumbers and what chant protects against premature boldness, toothache and bad digestion.
Lady in black gets dark looks from disciple.
Elderly lady plays tambourine, as if she publicly has to clean up doogpoo. Sometimes tries to blow a huge shell, mostly fails but inexorably goes pink-red from the effort. Indian 3D musician looks like she's ready to perform human sacrifice (Amma? herself? everyone?) and plays flute.
Other lady looks like a psychodelic witch, nose blocked with large paperstrips, huge dark sunglasses, cape over wild black hair.
Solkem oscillates like a cobra in front of the piper.
Amma burns enough food for an African village.
thinly dressed man next to fire puts frenetically wood in fireplace, resulting in much smoke that visibly causes extreme pain in the eyes of the lady who is on top charged to poor smoke-provoking oil into the fire.
Amma asks to chant incredibly complex syllables.
grey followers is extatically telling everyone the great things Amma did (poring milk over a statue, entering, walking, etc).
Solkem makes everyone sing mantras in search of HERS.