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Krishna had some news for me, which were usually tit bits of new found wisdom. Whenever his soul searching pursuit rendered him broke, he came to me. All I had to do was buy him lunch.

I often agreed to this request, and Krishna thought of it as his entitled retribution. After all who could ever place a price tag on knowledge?

When folks teased me that he was like my dumb kid brother, I would tell them he got into Harvard and just to be able to stick it to the man, decided to go to community college and take honor credits in criminal justice with convicts. It was only his long absences that I couldn't explain and for that matter, I was always curious.

Often rumors began to spread about my friend and I felt it was my duty to clear his name. It would happen just like that. Krishna would pop out of nowhere and we would light up a cigarette and reunite like long lost buddies. The good old days had once again arrived.

Krishna said he had a secret for me, which was that last summer he found where his power resided. I knew that this time he was not referring to the might of his whipcord abdomen, his steel biceps or those thunder thighs as he called them.

Krishna said he had matured enough to realize that his athletic achievements were insignificant, and I being his fat bastard best friend dared not to disagree.

I realized that for the first time in our friendship I might have been impressed with Krishna. I had a chance to be genuinely happy for him, and I didn't have to wait until his rant of megalomania slowly subsided into self-deprecation, to feel good about myself again.

Krishna wanted to speak to me about a greater power, the power he could harness to change himself, and if necessary, the world as we knew existed, which I figured, had not done him much good. Krishna would have agreed with me on this, because if you are thirty, glisten with the physique of a Greek god, and are still a virgin, something just wasn't right about your life. I was proud that Krishna was closing in on this deficiency.

For an insight into my friends new found strength, all I had to do was take him to our local Dim Sum, suck up the damp air, order an item from the lunch menu and promise him copious amounts of the cheapest ale available. I figured it was a small price for some wisdom. I was going to be the obliging pupil. If there was a method to the madness that had consumed most of my life, I wanted to be certified insane.

Krishna began by reminding me, often irritatingly, that he had received

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