Be Quiet! [Day 1.2]
May 1, 2007
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.
The Adventure Begins… [Day 1.1]
April 22, 2007
March 13th, 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 8th, 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.
Kirtan!
March 28, 2007
“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.
