Sing to God

In Chowpatty, one night I was chanting softly on my beads. After some time, my friend and roommate from Spain, Gopi Kumari, remarked, “You seem to sing the maha mantra. It’s beautiful,”

“I never thought of it like that,” I replied.

“It’s interesting. In English you have the word ‘chant’ and the word ‘sing’… but in Spanish, there is no distinction. It is simply ‘cantar’ for both,” she said in a ponderous tone. 

“Very true,” I murmured. When I was in Spain and I needed to go chant, I told my friends, “Necesito cantar,” which translates as “I need to chant,” but it can also be translated as, “I need to sing,” 

How beautiful. Oh, how beautiful that as Vaishnavas, we take time out of our day to sing to God. 

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LOL!

I know this post is a bit out of character, but humor me. I tend to be a very serious person (if you haven’t noticed). But I am a huge fan of LOL cats. I think you will be, too, after checking out a selection of my favorites. 

Please tell me you’re Laughing Out Loud. 

There, my day was successful!

Vote for your favorite. 

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People First, Place Second.

So. 

I’m home.

On July 21st, I began my first mile of travel in Kailua-Kona, Hawaii. The next five months would whirlwind me across America, through Europe, within India, across the mighty Pacific and back to Hawaii on December 23rd. 25,000 miles – I circled the world. 

The places were magnificent. But I am finding more and more and more that travel is first about the people, and second about the place. Always. Always. I could have been in hell (aka: an airplane) but if there was someone cool to connect with (an English Muslim student on his way home to Pakistan) then I was in heaven. I could recount – literally – hundreds of examples of this rule: people first, place second. 

I met hundreds of incredible people in my travels; some tweaked a realization in me, and I didn’t even know their name. I still remember the beggar girl in Vrindavan who cemented my realization to allow my heart to soften, and to let go of my feverish attachments. Others reached inside my heart and flipped me upside down. The people of Chowpatty are forever imprinted on my heart as the goal of what it means to be a devotee of the Lord, and what it means to serve.   

You can’t recount people in a list, like you can with places you’ve visited or the miles you’ve traveled. It just doesn’t work like that. People are the breath of travel… they are the breath of life.

Thank you. If I encountered you in my travels – even just for a moment, the span of one breath – and you’re reading this, thank you. You were the reason and the perfection of my journey.   

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An Ode to India

The last day of my World Tour, I hosted a going-away party at Chowpatty Govinda’s – a good excuse to amass cool people in one place. A quite eclectic group, I must say: an African gurukuli, Mumbai natives, first-time-in-India American college students, seasoned bhaktas, European adventurers, and other odd specimens (such as myself, a bald American gurukuli). We kind of took over the restaurant.

At the party, I handed out a questionairre entitled “An Ode to India”. So I present to you, my dear readers, a collection of responses from all those cool people (with their permission, of course!). 

My gratitude goes out to them for their sincerity and enthusiasm to share their experience of India with me… and thus all of you. 

 “An Ode to India” Questionairre

1. What is your favorite place within India? Why? 

* Radha Gopinath Temple, especially Vrindavan Forest. It is Vrindavan inside of Mumbai.

* Mayapur, especially the birthplace of Chaitanya Mahaprabhu.

* Varsana – I feel the sweetness of Radharani there. It’s beautiful, gentle. The natives there show me what Krishna Consciousness is about: sincerity and depth.

* Vrindavan – I love how it seems as though Sri Radhe is written everywhere.

* Banks of the Ganges.

* The gurukula [school] in Mayapur – the Maharaj there is helping to save the world. It’s a window to another, more Vedic, planet.

* Vrindavan – I feel Krishna there everywhere.

* The foothills of the Himalayas – I actually wept at the sight of the sunrise.

 

What annoys you the most about India?

2. * Pollution

   * THE BATHROOMS. OR LACK THEREOF.

   * Blaring horns as they speed past you.

   * Haggling.

   * Lack of personal space and respect for privacy.

   * Trying to wait patiently in line is impossible! If you don’t push your way onto the bus or train, it will leave without you – if you don’t push your way through the line, you will never make it to the front.

   * The monkeys. I was trying to chant in Vrindavan and one monkey stole my juice.

   * I love everything about India, otherwise it wouldn’t be India.

   

   
   

   
   

    What do you love the most about India?

* I love that people sit on the ground, eat with their hands, walk in bare feet… There is something very free about it (at least from my Western perspective, where I see people very attached to their shoes, utensils, etc.)

* Everything in India flows so well, it just works. The best example is the street traffic – it’s so crazy and there seems to be no order, but people work with each other. It’s beautiful.

* You can buy dhotis in any store.

* Temples and sadhus [saintly people].

* I love that I can meet so many people who are devoted in their spiritual practice.

* The culture of service.

* How everyone knows who Krishna is.

3. Convince someone to come (or return!) to India in one sentence.
   

* Be open and your heart will change.

* If you want to fall deeply in love with Krishna – forever – come to India.

* If you want to step out of your comfort zone and expand your realizations about this world we live in, come to India. You will be surprised at how much you are able to let go and live!

* Lots of association with Radhanath Swami.

* Himalayan sunset.

* Relationships, culture, love.

 and my favorite:

* If you want to know how to serve, then come to India. 

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Liberation at 21

About six years ago I read a book on the Kumbha Mela festival. The author described how both men and women shave their heads to be detached. “Hair is one of man’s greatest vanities,” the author quoted the ancients. The phrase struck me deep.

As soon as I read that, I wanted to shave my head at Kumbha Mela. But at that time, my hair was about two inches in length, as it had been for many years. What’s the austerity and detachment in shaving off hair that’s already so short? So I decided: I’ll grow my hair out very long, and then I’ll shave it off.

Over the years, my destination shifted to Tirupati, which is a place of pilgrimage of Lord Vishnu… and a traditional place where thousands shave their head every day. I prepared myself with deep prayers to Lord Balaji, the deity who resides there.

Nevertheless, as the months ticked down, I began to panic… just a little. Would I reeeeally shave off my long, beautiful, feminine hair?

But at last, long last, I ventured into the hills of Tirumala in Tirupati… and took the plunge.

Actually, I feel quite liberated.

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A Haiku for Radha Gopinath

haiku is a poem which contains three lines of alternating syllables of five-seven-five

Mei Ghar Aagayi
I have come home

exhaustion plagues me
I seek asylum in you
for I have come home

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Giving-Thanks

(India + computers = late blog post. I think you get it.)

Little known fact: Today is Thanksgiving.

I found it refreshing to wake up here in India, write in my journal, and realize that today is the third Thursday of November, and in the United States of America it is a day reserved for giving thanks.

So I want to thank my parents who, from the moment I was born, have nurtured me to be conscious of Krishna. My parents are the foundation of my spiritual life, and without my spiritual life, I am a shell of a person, a ghost.

“Gratitude is not just saying the words ‘thank you’. Real gratitude means reciprocation, even if it is at a great cost to oneself.” – Radhanath Swami

I am praying to somehow reciprocate one day with my parents, who have given me the priceless gift of association with devotees of Krishna.

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Gurukuli Blood

I have never acknowledged so fully my gurukuli blood than being here in India. Discussion over class, kirtan over japa any day. And I’ll just leave if I’m not inspired.

So it’s a huge sign for me that Radhanath Swami is my guru – my spiritual guide – when I can actually sit in his class and lose track of time.

The first day of Vrindavan Yatra, he gave a 4.5 hour-long class. Pretty standard for India. But for me, I have never sat through any class in my life for more than 2 hours, so for that first class I started getting dizzy at around 3 hours… and Radhanath Swami is my guru. But I didn’t leave because I was in the center of a crowd of around 4,000.

So the following evening, I had a fully planned escape route – I sat near the exit so as not to cause a stir when I left out of non-absorption.

But I amaze myself. Or rather, Radhanath Swami amazes me. He spoke for nearly FOUR HOURS… and I was entranced the entire time. If he can get me to not only sit through a class but be attentive and inspired for four hours… that’s a minor miracle. I thought for sure I would leave early out of restlessness or brain-saturation – that’s just how I am.

But somehow he entranced me and thousands of others, and yet I also felt as though the two of us were the only ones present, and we were having an intimate conversation. Then every once and awhile, thousands of arms would reach for the sky. Tumultuous voices that rolled through the air like thunder would cry out the holy name… and I would know then that I was not alone.

In my humble opinion, Radhanath Swami is the certified master of hari katha.

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Grace

Grace
dedicated to Radhanath Swami
on the occasion of his Vyasa Puja, 2008

swimming
gasping
burning for air

For millions of years
I was swimming
gasping
burning
drowning.
I was desperate
for refuge.

One day
Somehow
by grace
someone saw me.

He reached out
and clasped my hand.
He pulled me to shore.
And when I could breathe
he placed
a seed
in my trembling hand.

Never
ever
let go
of this seed
of devotion,
he told me.
Tend to it
with love.

He began
to walk
and I began
to follow
in his footsteps.

brahmana brahmite kona bhagyavan jiva
guru krsna prasade bhai bhakti lata bija

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The King of Kirtan

Lifted from my journal:

The kirtan is building. People are amassing. The hands on the clock tick towards six o’clock.

The king is coming. Soon.

*

He’s late. The crowd is growing more and more massive. Crazy. Amal is rocking the kirtan right now…. building, building… I’ll see the famous Aindra for the first time any moment now… any moment now…

Aho! There he is! In tattered white, he entered the center of the kirtan from behind in a very quiet, very undramatic way. Such an unassuming man. This is Amal’s hero.

*

Wow. Live at last. For years, always recordings. Now I am immersed in the spiraling voice, the mridangas, the crowd, the tumultuous clapping hands, the soft yellow light from the chandeliers, a faint breeze on my back from the fans. The rhythm of the drums reverberates in my chest.

Krishna Balaram smile upon the King of Kirtan.

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