The plums tasted sweet to the unlettered desert-tribe girl- but what manners! To chew into each! She was ungainly, low-caste, ill mannered and *****, but the god took the fruit she'd been *******. Why? She'd knew how to love. She might not distinguish splendor from filth but she'd tasted the nectar of passion. Might not know any Veda, but a chariot swept her away- now she frolics in heaven, ecstatically bound to her god. The Lord of Fallen Fools, says Mira, will save anyone who can practice rapture like that- I myself in a previous birth was a cowherding girl at Gokul.