The Wedding of Jackie and Parama Karuna

Yesterday morning Jackie and Parama Karuna legally became husband and wife, most importantly to accommodate Jackie’s parents (they plan to hold a Vedic wedding in the fall). I felt touched to see two people so compatible and willing to strive towards Krishna together.

So reflecting on marriage, last year I wrote this:

Yesterday at the wedding of Indradyumna Swami’s brother, Maharaj spoke some cool stuff about marriage. Once he was on a plane and encountered a couple in their 90′s and they were heading out to celebrate their 75th wedding anniversary. 75 YEARS. And so Maharaj inquired, “I am often the priest for many weddings, and I also give a speech. So please tell me, what are some words of advice that I can give to newlyweds? What has held you both together for so long, and so happily?”

They both replied at once:

“Give more than you take.”

I realize that this applies to all of our relationships, especially with Krishna. To love is to give… to serve.

The Wedding of Jackie & Parama Karuna

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Politics of Inspiration

Radhanath Swami –

Another illusion of this world is “mine”. That whatever belongs to me is mine, and anything in relation with me, must be the best. My body, my family, my school, even extending it out to my country, my planet…

And we see this in religion. Some egoistic Muslims may say, “Our religion is the best and everyone else will go to hell.” Christians may say, “Our religion is the best, everyone else will go to hell.” And the Jews may say, “We are The Chosen ones, and everyone else will go to hell.” And the Hindus will say, “We are the best, everyone else will be born again as animals.” This is not how all religious people think, but it is very much prominent in the world today.

But then even within a certain religion, people will say, “My certain branch is the best,” and even within that branch, people will say, “My teacher is the best.” But really, it’s just an extension of our own ego – that anything is relation with me must be the best. But it is an illusion!

Narayan Maharaj is coming to Alachua next week and almost half a dozen people have approached me – including my unofficial siksa guru, Indradyumna Swami – concerned that I want to go or that I casually encourage others to do so as well. I understand why they’re concerned, and I also feel rather affronted. My inspiration and faith lies in Radhanath Swami and Srila Prabhupad, period.

At the same time, I appreciate seeking other perspectives on Krishna consciousness. As a matter of fact, growing up spiritually in Hawaii with zero “ISKCON” temple, Narayan Maharaj, Puri and Bodhayan Maharaj, Paramadvaiti Swami (my brother’s guru), and other visiting saints were my source of inspiration in a land of very little Krishna conscious resources. I never encountered an “ISKCON” guru while living in Hawaii. So I believe I grew up spiritually around my cousins and I feel a great appreciation for their perspectives and branches.

Where I receive inspiration is completely personal. No one can tell me where to find it. I have attended a Buddhist service, a mosque, a Baptist church, a Catholic service… and for each one I gleaned some beautiful wisdom and the essence of what religion truly is. And yet sometimes I find the most heated arguments and debates amongst people of the same religion with simply different branches. Amazing!

So let me finish this by offering my respects unto all the Vaishnavas, those who specifically find inspiration and the fulfillment of their soul in serving Krishna and His devotees. That is a rare and precious person to find in this world. I hope I have not offended anyone – I simply wish to illuminate issues we face today as a society through my own experience… that I, personally, hope to transcend all these politics of inspiration.

Ananta koti vaishnava vrinda ki jay!
All glories to the millions upon millions of Vaishnavas!

Paramadvaiti Swami, my brother’s guru

Puri Maharaj, a godbrother of Srila Prabhupad; his little temple two hours away (sometimes longer) from where I lived (with the deities Radha Govinda Sundar) was THE only temple I could go to and find solace in Krishna. I went every several months, sometimes longer.

Bodhayan Maharaj; he often visited Hawaii and is the disciple of Puri Maharaj

Narayan Maharaj; every January his disciples organized a giant festival in Hawaii – sometimes the only big festival I would attend all year

Indradyumna Swami, a great source of inspiration and guidance in my life

Radhanath Swami, my dear gurumaharaj who inspires me, life and soul

Srila Prabhupad, the ultimate inspiration

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This Is My Request! [Day 2.4]

When we dash out of the apartment and jump into our cars, our whirlwind game of keeping-up-with-the-former-NYC-taxi-driver continues, nevermind we just scolded such-named taxi driver. And when we finally pull into the street where the evening program will be, we’re all breathless from laughing and screaming (mainly at Rupa). I hop out of the car, ready for either a 3-mile jog or a 3-hour-long kirtan. Who knows when the latter is going to start, so even if this means hiking up my sari, I have GOT to get my energy out! (All due respects Maharaj, but I’ll get your class on mp3 or something.)

I get neither dancing nor a jog… but I get something better.

I set my mind to one intention: setting my purse down inside the house, offering my respects to Maharaj, and sprinting right back out. About three dozen people are all getting settled around Maharaj. I put my purse down… linger… just a little longer… okay, I’m leaving, now… Maharaj is getting ready to sing Jaya Radha Madhava. He instructs Chintamoni to play the mridanga. He looks to the kartal player and frowns.

“Who was playing kartals this morning?” He asks the crowd. Some people murmur and turn to me. My face flushes bright red. “Aha, give the kartals to Bhakti, please.” He commands. Someone hands me the kartals as I’m standing up in the back of the room, flabbergasted. But… my jog! “Come sit up here,” he beckons to a spot right up front. The crowd on the floor parts and makes room for me, The Kartal Player That Maharaj Has Requested. Someone even hands me their special pair of kartals that were encased in a silken bag. What is going ON?? This is crazy. My kartal-playing kinda blows, anyway.

But there’s no time to think, because Maharaj begins to sing.

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He’s Still Here. [Day 2.1]

We rush about, groggily gulping down oatmeal and mumbling tilak mantras. We still only make it out the door in time for the actual program to start, missing our chance to chanta japa with Maharaj. But when we reach Jyothika’s, we find the street and the house quiet. No, seriously, the three of us are the only ones here.

Hm, odd.

But in the living room, I spy the harmonium and Rupa and I decide to sing. My voice goes extra deep and feels husky from the early morning. Rupa plays simple mridanga, and it’s just the two of us. I close my eyes. I sing Guruvastakam, the morning melody immersing me in stillness.

Slowly, people gather. And after some time, Maharaj finally comes down. I end the soft bhajan as soon as he takes his seat. Last night after I had picked up the mridanga, I was so absorbed in playing it that I hadn’t fully soaked in Indradyumna Swami’s special melody for Jaya Radha Madhava. And so now as he begins to sing, tingles sweep across my skin.

I pick up a pair of kartals and absorb myself in the melody. Last year when Maharaj visited Alachua, I was about to leave the templeroom but then froze when he began to sing. I feel that way now, too.

For breakfast, Rupa, Nama, and I sit within sight of Maharaj and discuss the youth in Alachua and ISKCON. In this quiet mid-morning, we laugh and practically shout out our jokes. Maharaj is still sitting where he was for class, chanting his japa intently with eyes closed. Suddenly he snaps them open and commands the three of us.

“There is time for this later. Come, chant japa with me,”

Hushed immediately, we fetch our japa bags semi-sheepishly. We settle around him, but then he commands again, “Face me.”

We do. And in the current and wave of chanting, with Maharaj as my anchor, I taste each syllable of the maha-mantra for the first time in months. I meditate deeper and deeper, as if drinking deeper and deeper.

When Maharaj gets up to finally take some breakfast, the others disperse. I stay, transfixed. He’s still here, I murmur to myself, my hair standing on end. Even though he’s gone… I’m going to keep chanting. My mind turns to my own guru maharaj, Radhanath Swami, and how most of my life he’s not here. And yet… he’s here.

Suddenly I make the connection that you are my inspiration… my map, my compass… but I must captain my own ship. Guru is my guide… and now it’s my turn to rise to the challenge.

When I finish chanting, I feel quiet. For once, I laugh to myself, I’m quiet.

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Be Quiet! [Day 1.2]

On the exasperating ride up here I had one meditation. So when Rupa, Nama, and I head out from Jyothika’s house in the evening sunlight to chant japa, I develop that meditation deeper.

I want to listen. For once I want to just be quiet and observe. Instead of jumping at every opportunity to hammer in some questions that I’m not even listening to for the answer, I want to soak in Maharaja’s association. Serve. Watch. Listen. Just be.

So when we return from our walk, we see the street filling with cars. A twinge of excitement flutters in my chest. I calm it immediately though. Just observe, Bhakti… for once in your life…

I sit down modestly in the back of the room as bhajans go on. But then, when one devotee finishes singing, people start beckoning me to sing. WHAT THE…?? I have never been to Duluth, Georgia in my LIFE, I have never met 99.9 percent of these people, and they’re summoning me to sing??

Rupa just grins her huge grin and nods her head really fast in her Rupa way. “Yeah, yeah, go Bhakti! … Hey! Bhakti’s going to sing,”

So with a smile to myself and a shake of my head, I settle in front of the harmonium. Dude, even a mic is set up. I look across to the mridanga player… and behold a gentle, wise man that I know but his name escapes me…

I begin to sing and can’t help but smiling. And as the rhythm gets into a groove and voices rise in enthusiasm, suddenly the most hilarious thought hits me. Quiet. ME. This is ridiculous! This is the farthest thing from quiet I could possibly get! My voice literally breaks as I sing because I can’t help from laughing. Rupa makes it worse by laughing along with me.

And just as I swing into the high register, the beat goes double time, and the room starts clapping, Indradyumna Swami enters. In a wave, everyone offers their obeisance. I look up to see him observing the room in his regal, serene way.

Drawing the bhajan to a tumultuous close (in which I threaten to break down laughing again), I can almost feel the room smiling.

“Good evening,” Maharaj says smoothly. He picks up the kartals.

My eye is drawn to a lone mridanga just begging to be played. Realizing how hilarious this is getting, I motion to Satvata that I want to play. He hands the drum to me. I turn to face the gentle man, and he nods and smiles as we play in sync.

Then the rhythm picks up and with a shout, people jump up to dance! I’m sorry, but I simply cannot watch others dance in a kirtan. I hand off the drum and dive right in. Out of my penchant for leading the way, I direct the women to dance in a circle, then lines, then the bridge!

Nitai Gaura Hariiiiiiiiiboooooooooool!

Maharaj ends the kirtan in a beautiful crescendo. Breathless, we offer obeisance. Rupa, Nama, and I glance at each other in between our hands, grinning ear to ear.

[SNORT.] So much for being quiet.

Okay, so maybe I just blew my meditation out of the water, but I hold fast to it nevertheless. There’s something to be learned from being quiet… I can feel it. So I open up my gold diary and begin to take notes on Maharaj’s class… and although I jot down questions along the way, I decide that I will not question Maharaj.

During his discourse, something strikes me as beautiful about the holy name: The maha-mantra is not a mantra at all – it’s a prayer. A prayer. Maharaj explains that all mantras have a bij, or seed, that is spoken before the actual mantra itself, such as om and klim. The maha-mantra does not have a bij. The maha-mantra simply evokes the Lord through prayer by calling out to Him.

When he finishes, I find myself at a loss for questions. Very strange, believe me. But I realize, what is there to ask? I feel content. I feel at peace about everything Maharaj has spoken of tonight.

Resisting my natural impulse, I keep my distance from Maharaj all through dinner as people surround him, continuing to talk. Rupa marvels in my ear, “Look at Maharaj! Even when he’s taking prasad, he’s still preaching. He talks about Krishna 24/7. He never wastes a moment.” I smile and look over to see a circle of people all leaning forward slightly as he jauntily makes a point, in which a ripple of laughter goes around and he then takes a drink from his cup, then a bite from his plate.

I chuckle in disbelief. “Amazing.”

After serving all the devotees in complete mayhem from the tiny kitchen, we then help clean up. By the time we reach the house we’re staying at, it’s around midnight. Our hosts are incredible – gracious and kind, they show us into the room we’ll be staying in (their daughter’s) and then bid us goodnight.

By the time I’ve settled all my stuff and shrugged on my PJ’s, it’s around 1am. I’m exhausted. I can’t help it, though, and I get out my journal.

“The adventure has begun.”

That’s about all I write before Nama sighs something about waking up at 7am to chant with Maharaj.

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The Adventure Begins… [Day 1.1]

March 13^th, Tuesday

You may feel as if you are standing at the edge of something new. You could, in fact, begin a most exciting venture now, for you have a good feeling about what is happening and you are ready to play your part. Be as adventurous as you wish. It’s time to live outside the constraints of negativity and have yourself some fun. – Aries Horoscope, March 8^th, 2007

I feel like a sardine, I grumble to myself. Five us are crammed into my car, and the three tallest – including me – are in the back. We’ve been driving for five hours, and I’m tottering on this maddening edge of exhaustion, the sun baking my back. Oh yeah, and I have mountains of schoolwork due the DAY I get back from Spring Break.

Jai.

Yet when we packed up the car this morning, I had this feeling that we were embarking on a grand adventure. Don’t ask me why. I just know that I have prayed for some spiritual CPR and Krishna has granted me my wish.

I can feel it.

When we reach the temple, we whirl inside to take darshan of Radha Madan Mohan, and then jump right back into the car, minus the two boys. Aaaahhh… space. WOO-HOO! And with laughter and jokes, we zoom away in our delirium to Mother Jyothika’s house for lunch… the place where Maharaj will be staying.

We arrive in suburbia-loka and are ushered inside by grins and busyness. All through lunch my mind agonizes (rather unreasonably) about homework, and as Maharaj won’t be arriving for awhile, there should be time to squeeze in something. So I bust out my laptop and get to work.

“Maharaj will be here in ten minutes!” his secretary notifies Jyothika.

What??

“Ten minutes!” she says again.

I’ve just begun a 30-minute online quiz. Great.

So I’m frantically answering questions about chemical properties when in the quiet of the house I hear a door open.

“Haribol, Radhika,” a low voice says.

“Haribol Maharaj,” she replies.

I stay glued to the carpet, frozen. I should get up, greet him… but I only have ten minutes left to finish… just say hello!…

But his voice is already gone.

I finish my quiz with a frustrated sigh. I check my score – I failed miserably.

Right then, Rupa and Nama return from their errand. “Hey, Maharaj is here,” I say glumly.

“He IS?”

“Yeah, he went upstairs,”

“..And?”

I sigh. “Don’t ask.” We’ll see him tonight, don’t worry, I say to myself.

Still. I didn’t even say hello.

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Kirtan!

“Everyone, please stand up,” Indradyumna Swami speaks into the mic. The initiation ceremony has come to a close.

Murmurs go around, “kirtan, kirtan” and I’m standing at the back but Maharaj catches my eye anyway. His eyes light up and he beckons me up to stand next to him, “Bhakti! Come sing,”

OOOOOOhhhh… my lord. I make my way up to stand next to Maharaj. Someone hands me a pair of kartals, and as I sing, the two disciples of Maharaj circumambulate the fire.

One day… one day.I pray, closing my eyes.

And then, the crowd moves toward the altar and Maharaj smiles and says, “Sundar Arati, please,”

So I sing. Maharaj sways in front of the Deities chanting. Thank you for empowering me, my dear shiksha guru, I muse. Halfway through, I untangle the microphone from the stand to dance with everyone else!

And then, the kirtan is coming to a grand crescendo with cries of “Gauranga!” and “Haribol!” When suddenly, Maharaj picks up his dear godbrother Sikhi Mahiti and grinning, begins to swing him ’round and ’round and ’round! Everyone goes wild, “HARRRIIIIIIBOOOOOOL!!!!”

My mind flashes with pictures of Indradyumna Swami swinging my own dear guru maharaj, Radhanath Swami, in the same way. I watch in total disbelief, and with a final note I call out, “Gaaaaura Premanandi…”

The voices of the devotees rise as they reply, “Hari Hariboooool…”

Indradyumna Swami ki…. jai.

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