Bhrigu's visit - part 1

   

     I was very happy when Bhrigu contacted me few days after the Polish retreat. He said he was going to do some research job for the university and he would need a research assistant, so he asked if wanted to help him. Of course I did. Still without a job, so few pounds wouldn’t be bad, and also I wanted to spend some time with my godbrother.
     As I found out the research was to be done in the London Gaudiya Mission center, in Willesden Green. During one of his former journeys Bhrigu discovered tones of materials left by Bon Maharaja during his preaching mission in Europe in ‘30s. He couldn’t copy everything then, but now he was equipped with time, new camera, Gaudiya Mission permission and of course the best research assistant in the whole London.
     When I arrived there on Wednsday at 9AM, Bhrigu was already waiting. We exchanged hugs and pleasant words. Then I paid my respect to the Radha Krishna and Lord Gauranga murtis. After some minutes a sannyasi appeared, Damodar Swami. Bhrigu introduced me and maharaja welcomed me cordially. I admit, I felt little bit embarrassed. The temple was shining clean, maharaja and local brahmacari wore Vaisnava cloths and tilaks, and so was Bhrigu. Me on other hand, I came straight from my squat, with crumpled, faded cloths,  beard and ruffled hair, looking somehow like a hippy (though a clean one!:). But frankly speaking I always feel like that when I‘m with Bhrigu.

The first page of an early manuscript of Bon Maharaja's book, Shree Krishna Chaitanya


     We started work straight away. Bhrigu was taking pictures and I was passing to him all kinds of materials left by Bon Maharaja almost hundred years ago. Journal, letters, photos, notes. It was exciting to peep at those old days of Gaudiya preaching in the West. The problems that were faced by Maharaja, preaching engagements, reaction of the contemporary people. The folders looked like they were not being opened for a very long time, probably even from thirties. The fastenings and metal parts were literally falling apart after just being touched. Still we kept damage to a minimum.
     When the lunch time arrived we were met with a nice surprise: some Bangali members decided that day to cook a feast for the mission. This is what I call luck. However I wasn’t expecting what was about to happen. I think it was the best food I’ve ever had. Lady who cooked it, kept bringing new dishes, one after one, after one. First the rice with dahl, then green tomato subji, then panir sabji, then another and another, I had no idea what the half of the things were, then tomato chutney, sweet rice, gulabjumens. Bhrigu and I, we were completely full, but Damodar Maharaja kept pointing at our plates and telling mataji to give us more, and laughing at us, when we were stuffing ourselves. Even now I’m salivating, thinking about those tastes. Maharaja said that I should come on Sundays, they will feed me like this every time. I will definitely remember the invitation.
     After that we went back to work. Bhrigu allowed us five minutes break, but I think it was only four, still I didn’t want to argue with the boss;) Around seven, when the daylight got bit dim we called it a day, and decided to finish tomorrow. I bed farewell to my friend and deities and went to catch a train. Tired but inspired. On the way listened to Guru Maharaja’s lecture, looking at the crowded streets, people rushing home after busy day, double-deckers, taxis, setting sun.
     Śanti.

London sadhu-sanga

 

Gopesh, Madhukari and me, London, Gopesh' place, just after the lecture and halava:) And the pleasurable hammock! I'm getting it sooner or later.



     It’s been a very nice day. In the morning I went to Gophes’ place. I haven’t seen him since the Polish retreat in 2011, and we didn’t really talked that much then. We had a nice talk, he told me stories from the time when he lived in Audarya (like when the cows ate all the vegetable garden!), how he met Guru Maharaja, and generally about life in London. Then Madhukari came. She brought halava and cakes. In the meantime Gophes let us play with his hammock, which we did enthusiastically. Then we played Swami’s lecture – and for that I had to get out of the hammock because I started dozing after five minutes. After the lecture we talked some more, then had a short bhajan with my ukulele. Then Gopesh went to work, and Madhukari and I went for a pizza. We discovered that we both like Sacinandana Maharaja very much. Then we got lost, because apparently living 25 years in London isn’t enough to know the city (he, he, sorry, Madhukari:).

     It was already late afternoon and I decided to go to the Soho temple, to chant gayatri before deities, and then go home, but I met an old friend from brahmacari times, we haven’t seen each other for over 13 years I think, so we had a lot to talk about. I was so happy to discover that he likes Sridhar Maharaja and he actually became a siksa disciple of Bhakti Sundar Govinda Maharaja. He told me some nice stories about him. It was a nice meeting, we’re going to see each other soon.

     I feel like better times are coming. It feels that likeminded devotees are starting to show up around me, I’m landing in the places in some ways connected with Krishna, like even this crazy squat, every day there is some opportunity to talk or think about Swami or Krishna. I like how the things change. I feel like this actually grace coming from above. I know it sounds bit pretentious or bombastic, but I don’t mean it in this way. It’s more like appreciating or learning to see Krishna in even small things. I think it’s important. You know, trying to spot him around you, thinking that maybe he can get attracted by this.

     It reminded me the lecture I heard tonight on the train, coming home. I can’t find it, but it was more or less like this:
     “When you come to a rich man’s house, knock on the door and ask for money, he will give you some, and the send you away. If you come to him and ask for knowledge – how he made the money, so you could use this knowledge, he will say, ok, here it is, take it and go away. Then the third person comes to the rich man’s house. ‘Do you want money?’ the rich man asks. ‘No, I don’t need it’. ‘The knowledge then?’. ‘No, not really’. ‘So what do you want?’ ‘You. I just like you’. And the rich man is so amazed. ‘You want me? You like me? Come in!’”
      So inspiring. We can come up with so many things to ask Krishna, I do all the time, these days asking mostly for money, job and peaceful mind, but I’d like to start to find a way to endear myself to him. To break through the karma or jnana motivations. I know it’s high, and not my level, but I like to meditate on this ideal, so one day it will be really mine.
     Anyway, it was a nice day. Time to brush my teeth and go to sleep. Hari!
PS. Got a job interview for the next Tuesday!

First day in London - I'm a squatter!

 

     So I've arrived in London. I didn’t know what to expect, I wasn’t really sure what kind of accommodations were awaiting me. Basically it's an old factory building, with lots of rooms, corridors, corners. Dominik, the guy who looks after the place, gives the rooms to people either for free or for a small rent. The place is a mess and it stinks and it’s sticky and dark, but there is quite few people living here, some of them are apparently devotees of some sort, I have to enquire further into it, and it’s for free and close to the city center. Also it has a kitchen, shower, toilets, so it isn’t too bad. It will do for a while, until I sort myself out with a job. And if the smell and messiness get unbearable, I got an offer to move in with a couple of friends, but they live quite far from the city, so I’m not sure. Let’s see. After I arrived, I just took a quick shower and hurried back to the city, trying to make it to the Soho temple for the Sunday feast. I managed. I met with Radhika and we ate a big pile of prasadam. It was excellent. I haven't had this quality food for months.

     Saragrahi told me today about her darsan with Guru Maharaja. She was very happy finally to get a chance to talk to Swami. One of the points they discussed again is Swami’s willingness to come to UK. He said it twice already, so there is something in it.

     For the last few days I’m listening to Catuh-sloka series. Guru Maharaja again and again brings this point – it was personally Krishna, who appeared before Brahma. He touched Brahma’s hand like a friend. It was Krishna, not Visnu.

     After talking to Saragrahi, chanting and listening the talk, I had a little gratefulness meditation. Guru Maharaja told me once that right now we think: "Oh, why Krishna abandoned me, he doesn't care about me", but the day will come when we will think that we get much more then we deserved, we will feel that Krishna's grace is coming to us, even though we feel we haven't earn it. This is the generosity of bhakti. I'm far from this but I start to imagine that it is possible, sometimes, when I put my heart into it, I get those small glimpses.

Ekadasi and things getting brighter

   





















     I’ve just returned from the Radha-Krishna temple, the one I wrote about few days ago. It’s Ekadasi, and since this is the first one I’m observing for a very long time, I wanted to make it special. I downloaded an Ekadasi lecture by Swami (I think I’ll make a separate post about it, it was so charming and inspiring) and went to see the Deities. Or to be seen by them, as Guru Maharaja sometimes says:)

     I entered, paid dandavats, offered a fruit to Deities and then chanted Gayatri. I was about to leave, when someone called me. It was the main brahman/preacher of the Indian community here. I saw him few times before, but I have to admit I was little bit put off by what I though to be his proud appearance. Nonetheless I approached him in a humble manner.
     “Present yourself to me” said he.
     “My name is Kalpataru das”
     “And who is your spiritual master?” he asked.
     “Swami Tripurari”
     “And your istha-devata?”
     “Sri Caitanya” I said, but seeing that he’s not familiar with Mahaprabhu, I added “Krishna”.
     He seemed to be pleased.
     “Tell me, what are your guru’s teachings” he enquired further.
     I was pretty happy to have this conversation. Like from Jaiva-dharma, or something:) I miss that in every day life. I told him about our basic siddhanta – Krishna is the highest reality, jiva is his eternal servant, our aim is to attain pure love of God. He listened, then he started to preach. He was Krishna devotee, but there was lots of aiśvarya in his words. When he talked about Krishna, he obviously had in mind Dvaraka Krishna. Still I liked the universal touch in his preaching – that we are not Hindus, Muslims or Christians, we are spirit souls, and we should follow the sanatana-dharma, which is beyond all religious concepts. He very strongly stated that without spiritual master there is no spiritual life. Guru is even more important to us then God. I liked that a lot, especially that Guru Maharaja says it a lot. Then he looked at me sternly.
     “Do you think that Krishna is an avatar of Visnu?” he asked in a menacing voice. I shook my head in deny.
     “Krsnas to bhagavan svayam” I said.
     “Yes!” his eyes shone. “This is the right understanding! Krishna is beyond everything, he’s the source of everything!” Then he added: “But don’t disrespect other gods. They are Krishna’s different aspects.”
     He asked me to stay for arati, which I did. Afterwards I received some maha-prasadam. Then I went home. On the way, I did some shopping and then cooked pure ekadasi lunch.

     During the lunch I was called by Saragrahi. She sounds so inspired and alive. I’m so sorry for not being able to be there with her, Guru Maharaja and all the others. But on the other hand, because I’m can’t be there, somehow I think about Swami and Krishna more then I usually do. Oh, yes, it reminded me the other thing that the brahmana from the temple said today:
     “Do you think that Krishna can’t hear you? No, you are never separated from him. Whenever you think about him, at the exact same moment he thinks about you, and he thinks about you much more, then you think about him”.

     This is so weird (positively weird). I’m here, in the middle of nowhere, unemployed, lost in a big city, unmotivated, broke, but then suddenly, out of blue I’m ending up having this kind of deep conversation about Krishna. It’s almost like (or exactly like) because I’m searching for the higher connection at the moment, this kind of things start to happen. Someone may call it synchronicity, but to me it’s showing the personal features of God, who lovingly responds to our spiritual endeavors.

     I still want to move to London. Actually my mind is 100% there already. Yesterday I contacted some of my friends, asking about accommodation. Also I befriended on Facebook Madhukari and Gopesh, who are Swami’s disciples living in London. We had a quite long chat with Madhukari, she seems to be very nice girl, very friendly and open. We talked about doing some programs or listen to Guru Maharaja’s lectures together. There would be few of us there. Madhukari, Gopesh, Rama Caran and I think Gokulacandra, though he might not be living there anymore, I’m not sure. Then Saragrahi would join me. I hope it all works.

     What else? Saragrahi just got a big order for her art! Ten drawings and she can choose the topic of the series. Nice that she can make some money with her talents. I hope one day she can do just that for living. (And me too:).

You First, Brother 4

(Rainbow Gathering, Slovakia 2012)

Part 4 – Śri Krishna Janmastami and more

     Oh, Krishna, what a cold night it was! I couldn’t believe that just in couple of days the temperature could drop so dramatically. I went to sleep in my underwear, but soon I was wearing everything I owned including four pairs of socks and a hat. And still I was freezing. 

     Since I had my private small tent, I couldn’t cuddle up for warmth with Saragrahi. Eventually at 2 AM I took my half-broken torchlight and I went to the forest to collect wood for a bonfire. It took me some time, specially that my torch was going off and on, but ultimately I managed.

     Pretty soon I was falling asleep nicely warmed up, looking at the thousand of stars.

     When I opened my eyes the sun was already high up. Saragrahi was sleeping next to me, she must have a tough night too. And there was this guy with a turban and lots of tattoos, sitting next to us (actually sitting almost on my head).

     “Good morning” he said with a slight German accent. “You don’t mind that I’m using your fire to make chapatis?”

     I looked at him somewhat vacantly, still half asleep.

    “Yes… Of course. No problem” 

     Actually I remembered the guy from before. He was doing an improvisation with a guitar, making up a song about the proper and responsible use of shit pits. I remember that I liked his sense of humor, and also fact that he was always helping with food serving.

     I got up and took quick bottle shower behind the tent. Saragrahi and Ania were up too.

     We decided to do a morning program. It was  Janmastami day. For that purpose I had even brought my mrdanga. It looked kind od funny – since I didn’t have a mrdanga cover I improvised something using an old bathrob and piece of string. It resembled some fury, weird animal. 

     Saragrahi created a spontaneous altar with Jagannatha, Baladeva and Subhadra, and Guru Maharaja’s picture. We set together and sang Gurvastakam and Hare Krishna. 

     I could see that we gained some respect in Walter’s (the chapati guy) eyes. He looked with an interest at Deties and Guru Maharaja. When we got to maha-mantra he joined us, not interrupting the chapatis making process.

     When he got his first chapati made, he produced a small, silver plate, put the chapati on it and placed before the Jagannatha deities. Then bent his head low and chanted some mantras I didn’t recognize.

     That was a nice surprise. 

     At that moment another guy came.

     “Haribol!” he said with a smile. “So nice to meet devotees here!”

     “Gauranga!”

     We shook hands. His name was Thomas. He looked at our altar, trying to recognize who was on the picture. We talked for a moment. He was affilated with Iskcon, actually he was planning that day to go to a temple for a festival. There was a Hungarian farm near Balaton, not too far away.

     Walter handed him a piece of a chapati.

     “Take some prasad” – he said.

     “I’m fasting today, it’s Janmastami…” – Thomas said. (I held my breath - when I woke up this morning, I devoured, without thinking, a chocolate bar, dammit!)

     Walter looked at him.

     “But this is prasadam. It’s like fasting” – he said with a big smile.

     Needless to say, I was speechless.

     Thomas was persuaded by that sound, irrefutable and bona fide argument. 

     After the morning program, we got into our Janmastami cooking project. We had brought from Poland butter, powdered milk, icing sugar and dry fruits. Simply Wanderful time!

     Saragrahi mixed everything in a plastic bag, Ania and me, we cut nuts, dates and raisins, and soon we had maybe hundred or more sweet balls. We offered them and started bhajan. Saragrahi on caratals, me, mrdanga.

     In a little while we gathered a small crowd. Some of them were attracted by chanting and some definitely by a sight of the beautiful sweets. 

     “Ania, distribute the Simply Wanderful” – I said between the maha mantras. She was little bit shy, but soon she was dancing and walking all over the place, giving prasadam to everyone around. 

     People were charmed. They asked for a recipe, chanted with us, smiled, waved, danced. It was really cool. I felt like in old Iskcon days, during festivals. 

     At one point, someone grabbed a full plate and went away with it. I was little bit worried, particularly because guy who took it, didn’t look very normal, he was either high or very off. I looked at him doubtfully, but he just started to distribute prasadam himself. Talk about ajnata sukrti, man. That’s how it starts.

* * *

     Next day I was woken up by Krsna’s names. 

     I was sleeping next to the bonfire again (I was smart and the day before I prepared wood for the morning).

     I looked around. The camp was completely asleep, except for a small group by the big fire down the valley. They sang some mantras, playing guitar and drums. 

     I grabbed the mrdanga and almost run down there.

     The people assembled around the fire looked very weary. Some of them were naked, cover with ashes, with red eyes. A sad girl with a guitar was leading bhajan. When I joined gently with mrdanga, they greeted me with smiles and made a space in a circle.

     They looked at the rising sun and sang to a soft and sweet tune:

     “Govinda, Gopala, Narayana

     Govinda, Gopala, Narayana”

     I didn’t mind very much that they confused the rasa, at least they stayed on the tattva tracks and kept Visnu-tattva in one mantra (few days before I heard someone singing: „Krishna, Govinda, Durga, Ganesha”). 

     So we chanted and we swayed and we crooned and we smiled and someone even cried nostalgically, and I thought, it was a very magical morning. 

* * *

     There were more pastimes and stories to tell, but I think I’ll end it here. A good story-teller knows when to stop. I think I’ve already overdone it with a length or comedy, but once I start I very easily cross all possible lines.

     In the end I was bit tired, we all were, but still, it was worth it. 

     I’m not a sentimentalist – I wasn’t blind to pretentiousness of some, to two hippy girls looking for an attention of a handsome and esoteric guitar-player, to a bunch of ganja smokers who were stoned 24/7, to spoiled kids, or overtly zealous environmentalists. I saw all these things. But I was thinking about something that Guru Maharaja said: “We don’t judge others by who they are, but by the ideal they strive for”. 

     I tried that and I think it worked. I think I met some beautiful people there and some of that beauty dribbled on me, making me... just better. 

     You would like it there.

You First, Brother 3

(Rainbow Gathering, Slovakia 2012)

Part three – Fellowship Formed and the Toilets Explained

     When after four days I was finally bidding farewell to the hippy paradise, I didn’t expect to be back just in couple of days. Who would? So I was walking very slowly to the bus stop, looking at the sleeping camp. The rising sun poured the gold on the scattered sleeping bags, dusty tents and smoky teepees. Few lonely, dirty survivors of yesterday wished me a happy journey. French young poet in a suit and wild tie gave me a piece of chocolate and played for me on a violin few lines from the International.

     And that was good bye.

     Then, couple of days later I was on the road again. Once more I enjoyed the familiar feeling of sweatiness, exhaustion and carsickness (who rode Eastern European busses knows what I’m talking about). But this time I wasn’t alone.

     It was actually Saragrahi who made me to go the second time.

     After coming back home I was very enthusiastic in my reportage and a bit of that enthusiasm got transmitted to my better half. Basically she put it like this:

     “I’m going. Whether you goin’ with me or not.”

     So I could go or not, and I preferred to go. No, it had nothing to do with my insecurity because of all those handsome rastas and hippies walking out there with their beautiful drums, guitars and dreamy eyes. I was just happy to get another chance to re-experience Rainbow.

     We also asked my sister, Ania, to join us, and she was very happy to.

     When we started to get closer to the camp site, the girls felt stressed and a bit awkward. “Are we going to fit? How will we survive the “naked” shower? What about the toilets?” (Oh, yes, Shit Pits! I completely forgot to mention those sweet and cozy places. I will come to it).

     Me however, I felt like coming back home. I was an experienced guide, nonchalant pack leader, Rainbow veteran.

     “On the right you see the Healing Teepee, there, in those bushes are showers… I mean a shower. Single. On the left there is a children kitchen, and here is the main food circle, over there, that white patch, it used to be Krishna’s temple, and I was camping there, by that shrub… There is a funny story…”

     “Could you stop now?” asked Saragrahi.

     “Yeap, please” added Ania.

     Ania’s biggest fear was the toilet. She wasn’t very inspired by my description of it. So first of all it wasn’t even called a toilet, but, as I mentioned before, “a shit pit”. What a picturesque and juicy term.

     When I first heard about it after arriving few days before I imagined a long drainage ditch with a perch and a row of people sitting on it, smoking cigarettes and having a conversation, you know, like in the war movies, in the POW camp.

     The reality was less shocking, though still not very comforting.

     So first of all there was a designated area for it. And the in that area (in the forest) there were small trenches, maybe 6-7 feet long, 1 feet deep, and they were randomly dug around. The rules were – no toilet paper, just water (for a devotee not a big deal I guess), washing hands with ashes, and covering the end product with earth.

    At first I was seriously considering holding on until going back home, but then I managed to get used to it. As long as it was daylight, it wasn’t a problem, but God have mercy on those wretched creatures who were hard-pressed during the night hours and had to roam in the darkness. Poor buggers.

     Anyway, for some reason Ania wasn’t inspired by my description of the “toilets”, but eventually she became believer and in the end she was even openly scorning those, who broke the rules and used that forbidden, bourgeois toilet paper.

    

     Here I wanted to move to the Big Celebration Day, but since the above topic isn’t very elevated, I will continue in the next episode of the Rainbow Adventures.    

    

     To be continued…

You First, Brother 2

(Rainbow Gathering, Slovakia 2012) 

Part 2 – Krishna’s Army Tent

     The next morning I went to the Krishna’s tent.

     In a big army tent there was a small temple and a devotee living there. His name was Milosh, he was from Slovakia.

     We exchanged cautious but friendly greetings. Seeing a big Prabhupada’s poster inside I presumed that Milosh was an ISKCON devotee, but I didn’t ask him anything, I know it can be a sensitive issue in some institutions (I mean the issue of different groups, different gurus, etc.). I was just happy that there was some Vaisnava in the area I could talk to or have a bhajan together.

     We sang the morning program. Few people joined the chanting, someone accompanied us with drums, there was even some lord Siva’s devotee, and I mean a proper one – with long dreadlocks, red horizontal triple tilak, smeared with ashes and holding a trident. He chanted Hare Krishna with us, with a calm smile, looking thoughtfully in our eyes.

     During the lecture, which wasn’t much to my likening – little orthodox, old style, imitating Prabhupada a bit, but I have to add – definitely well-meant– there was a discussion. The Siva’s devotee (Indian origin, living in Pensylvania) wanted to know what’s the point of speaking about God, if he’s Unspeakable.

     I liked the question, it was a good starting point for a talk about unlimited qualities of Krishna. I’ve heard Guru Maharaja talking about it so many times, that it got encoded in my mind.

     But Milosh (with all his sincerity) used Srila Prabhupada’s argument:

     “If he’s unspeakable, why do you bother speaking?! Better shut your mouth!”

     I closed my eyes and groaned silently. But the Siva’s man only smiled. I liked it. And I told him: “Yes, God has unlimited qualities that can not be described. And therefore we shouldn’t be silent, because we can not say enough about him”.

     He smiled even more.

     “I like it very much” – he said and left.

     Thank you, Guru Maharaja, I thought. All I know and speak, I know from you.

     I felt little bit guilty that I butted in, but Milosh was ok with it, I could see that he accepted what I said.

     In the temple I met Asha. She was interested in Krishna consciousness, but she hadn’t met many devotees yet. Only Milosh and Sridhar Swami (a Polish Prabhupada’s disciple, initiated into sannyasa by Paramadvaiti Maharaja).

     I liked her immediately. She was very open, bright, spiritually minded, with a good sense of humor. We had a relaxed chat and she asked a lot of good questions about philosophy and devotional practice.

     I was telling her about the importance of accepting a guru.

     “Does the guru have to be personally present in this world?” – she asked.

     I knew the drill.

     “Yes, he does. How otherwise could he help you?”

     She looked shyly at Prabhupada’s poster.

     “What about Prabhupada? He wrote so many books…”

     “Yes, he did. Therefore we can say that he’s our siksa-guru, a sadhu who gives teachings. But he’s also param-guru – a guru who left this world. However we need a diksa-guru – sadhu who inspires us with his devotion, knowledge and personal example, and who can initiate us… Who told you that, about Prabhupada?” – I asked.

     She didn’t manage to answer.

     “Prabhupada is our siksa’guru?” – Milosh, who must had been listening to our conversation, jumped in and rose his voice. – “Are you serious?! He is Prabhupada. He is diksa guru! He always will be”

    Ok. So Milosh wasn’t an ISKCON devotee. But I didn’t want to go that way.

    “So you are a ritvik… Sorry, I didn’t know…”

     “Let’s talk about it…” – he said.

     “There is no point, prabhu. You are a ritvik, and I am not. We will never agree. Let’s just not talk about it. Is that a ‘right with you?”

     He looked at me for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders.

     “You are right, it’s not a place and time for it”

     I was relieved. I didn’t want to fight with the guy. He was doing some service, trying his best to be a Vaisnava and serve Srila Prabhupada, and anyway I was a guest in his tent.

     I think that at time we both decided to respect each other from a distance.

     For Asha it was something new. She didn’t realize, there were different approaches, understanding, groups or even controversies in the Hare Krishna world.

     Later I explained to her that I wasn’t going to try to persuade her to my point of view, but she should learn as much as she could, get familiar with different opinions so she would have more knowledge and make informed decisions concerning her spiritual life. I wasn’t worried for her anyway, she seemed to understand a lot.

     Later we had another discussion.

     “I have to tell you something” – she said.

     “Shoot”

     “Ok… So… I don’t like Srila Prabhupada” – she stammered out.

     I laughed. I suspected what was going on.

     “I mean… He doesn’t seem to be very nice” – she said. “All these things he says about women, or generally, the way he writes, kind of aggressive, even arrogant…”

     I could see, she was embarrassed about her feelings.

     “Asha, it’s completely understandable you feel that way. There was a time in my life, I just couldn’t read his books. I felt similar way, believe me”

     “So what changed?” – she asked.

     “My Guru Maharaja showed me different Prabhupada – the loving one, wise, understanding, with a big heart and open arms. You have to understand that sometimes when people talk about Prabhupada or spiritual life in general, actually they talk about their own vision. They project themselves on spiritual matters. So when someone is fanatical, “his” Prabhupada will be fanatical. When someone doesn’t have love, “his” Prabhupada will have a stone heart too. When someone doesn’t trust others, “his” Prabhupada will be mistrustful or even hostile”

     “I like that” – she said. – “I already feel better”

     “Cool” – I smiled. – “So this is one of the reasons you need a spiritual master; so you don’t get locked in your misconceptions. It is easy to worship someone who doesn’t correct you. It doesn’t require much from you, doesn’t challenge you. And we need to be challenged. Every day. Until we’re dead…” – I paused dramatically and laughed. “What you say?”

     “Can you tell me some stories about Prabhupada, that show him more as a human?”

     “Sure…”

     And I told her few stories I remembered, about how Srila Prabhupada cared for his disciples and how much compassion he had for everyone. I liked to see Asha beaming.

     It was nice to have that place there. Milosh was doing great job. I might have disagreed with him, but I admired his steadiness and sacrifice. He was doing morning and evening program, cooking and distributing prasadam twice a day, telling people about Krishna.

     The Rainbow food in the main food circle was vegan, nutritious and made with love, but as the taste goes… So many people (definitely including me) were happy to enjoy pulao, chapatis, puris, sabjis and halava served by Milosh.

     When he was leaving Rainbow Gathering I joined the helping crew to carry all his stuff to the parking lot. There were few of us who wanted to show some gratefulness.

      It was already dark. In the parking lot we gave each other a hug.

     “Thank you for everything, Milosh, great seva, keep serving Prabhupada” – said I.

     “Thank you for help, Kalpataruji” – said he and left.

     Next day it was kind of sad to see the empty spot left by Krishna’s tent. Asha and Kasha (another nice girl interested in Krishna) agreed. We lost our spiritual socializing centre.

To be continued...

You First, Brother 1

(Rainbow Gathering, Slovakia 2012)

 Part one – Lonely Trip

     So. If I had any doubts, now I don’t, it’s a fact – deep down I am a real hippy. 

     After ten hours of bus ride I got to the European Rainbow Gathering near Lukovistia, on the South of Slovakia.
     I was tired, sweaty, anxious and not really sure what I was doing there and if it was a good idea for a relaxing, therapeutic summer adventure. Specially after a week with my spiritual master, brothers and sisters, I felt bit lonely, left behind and I knew that nothing could amount to that great week we spend together. Still now I was here, so I was going to do my best.

     When the middle age, bold, fat guy, immediately after getting off the bus, took off his cloths (and I mean all of it) and started to march towards the campsite with his upper and lower (hairy) back shining with profuse perspiration (the sky was pouring heat!), I felt even more depressed, but, hey – after all this was Rainbow, not Louvre!

     He looked like he knew the way, so I followed him. After about twenty minutes walk we came to a glade. And that was it – my fatigue and bad mood left me completely and it was then when I realized that I was a real hippy. I deeply fell in love with what I saw!

     There was around hundred people playing in the meadow. Some of them were naked, some dressed in colorful, rainbow-like rags, some were playing tag, other enjoying shower from the barrel fastened to a crown of a tree, some drumming all kinds of drums (there were even tablas), playing accordions, guitars, ukuleles, bagpipes, children were chasing dogs (and the other way around too), some dreadlock yogis chanted mantras… 

     I admit that for a moment I felt that I entered a heaven. I stood there, at the top of the hill, with my mouth wide open, savouring this bucolic, idyllic picture. 

     It was kind of ecstatic. For a moment I remembered the story of Gopa Kumar entering the pastures of spiritual world, and I imagined how it must felt. Leaving all that madness of material kingdom behind and eventually finding yourself home, in the land of love, freedom and dedication.

     Finally I started to descend. People seeing my backpack greeted me with a cheerful shouting, wave or even a hug or a kiss.

     “Welcome home, brother!” – they said.

     Someone explained to me that it wasn’t the main area of the gathering and I should walk further to find some place to camp. 

     As I walked I saw more tents and teepees. Some hidden in the forest or bushes, some in the open. And also there were more and more people. First thing I noticed was that everyone looked in each other’s eyes and everyone smiled. Soon I was to discover that it wasn’t just being polite, but people were actually nice to each other. They were helping each other, like for example carrying stuff, setting tent, etc., sharing whatever they got, even if it was only a small piece of chocolate, bread or a cigarette. Oh, yes, I should mention here that the gathering was alcohol-free and meat-free. There wasn’t an official ban, nobody enforced anything, but still almost all people abided by that unwritten law.

     After few minutes I got to the main clearing, so called “food circle”, which was the centre of Gathering. I decided to camp on the top of the hill. In that way I could see everything that was to be seen and wouldn’t miss anything. 

     When I set my tent, I looked down – at the colorful, noisy, happy chaos. And I smiled.

* * *

     I needed a shower. I stank like an angry skunk (not that I know how angry skunk stinks, but it was bad, very bad). A whole summer day spent in buses and dirty bus stations can do it to anybody. 

     I went to the shower area I passed before. There were about thirty people waiting in line. Man, women, children. And everyone was completely, definitely, utterly undressed. 

     No, wait! There! Relief! I spotted one guy with his shorts on… Wait, no, he took them off…

     Not that I have anything against nudity, it is natural thing, and after all I decided to be a hippy for these few days, but still, it was little bit too much for me. 

     I looked at the people in the cue. They were completely at ease. They talked, laughed, discussed Thoreau, Chomsky and Osho… I felt embarrassed being the only one wearing swimming trunks. Ok – nobody was forcing me to anything, no one even looked with disapproval at my puritan sorry self. But still I felt stupid. Should I do it? Should I overcome my weakness and prove to myself to be a truly free man? Or maybe I was being oppressed by a social pressure and to be free I should stay dressed to prove that I was free? I took a deep breath… 

     And I did it. I took of the trunks and kicked them aside. 

     Here I was. Living trough the one of the oldest civilized human nightmares – standing naked in a crowd of people. My ears were burning, my hands couldn’t find their natural position (that’s what pockets are for!), my thoughts were racing.

     But nothing happened. No one even noticed. 

     And when my turn to shower came, and I stood there in the streams of icy cold water, on the small, stone platform (like a little stage), in front of all those people, I felt rather stress-free. I even waved encouragingly to a shy, skinny, fully dressed young man who hesitantly joined the cue.

     I would like to make here a small observation. In the main stream society people are sensitized to nudity and it has a definitely sexual connotation. On one hand it is a taboo, on the other, it is used a lot, for example in advertisement, TV, etc., to attract people, playing on their lower instincts. But there, where nudity was a very common, ordinary affair, the sexual aspect wasn’t really prominent. It was rather innocent and funny. During the whole stay, I haven’t seen a single case of promiscuity, not counting a shy, stammering hippy couple who were looking for someone “to join them in the session of divine, free love”.  I was surprised, I have to say. Not that I’m becoming a nudist now, I think that wearing cloths has its numerous advantages (for example hiding nature flaws, to mention one). Still, I think it was an interesting experience. Instructive.

* * *

     My first food circle. It was something. Something remarkable.

     Imagine – dusk well on it’s way. The little fire in the middle of the glade couldn’t disperse the darkness. 

     “Close the circle! Close the circle!” – shouts were echoing among the hills.

     I came closer. Someone took my hand. Tall, blond rasta guy.

     “Close the circle” – he said with a smile. I stretched my hand, trying to reach a girl on my left. She laughed as she tried to stretched her hand and it was still about two meters of free space between us. Eventually we managed. The circle was growing. More and more people were coming from all over the place – from the forest, valley, and surrounding hills. I couldn’t see far, but the growing hubbub of voices told me that we must be now few hundreds or more. As more people came, we were spreading further and further from the centre. 

     “Make the second circle” – someone shouted. We just couldn’t spread more if we wanted to stay on the hill. The inner circle started to form and quite soon it was almost as big as ours. 

     In the meantime the chanting started. The song was very simple and catchy.

We are circling, circling together

We are singing, singing with our hearts on

This is family, this is unity

This is celebration, this is sacred

     Then the rasta guy on my right looked at my eyes and slowly kissed my hand. I was a bit bewildered, but I realized this is kind of a chain and I should send the kiss further. I looked at the girl on my left, and… I kissed my own hand! I’ve got no idea why I did it. I guess I was just too lost. The girl laughed wholeheartedly and send the kiss further. Then there was a kiss on the cheek and even a kiss on the shoulder. Soon I was pretty good at it, and I didn’t kiss any of my own body parts anymore.

     And then there was the best part. The song gradually faded away and something else started. It was like deep thunder rising from the ground. 

     Goosebumps. 

     Om chanting. 

     As a Vaisnava I don’t find Om very attractive. After all it is just one of the divine sounds and it doesn’t have the sweetness the Krishna’s name has. But believe me, when few hundred people, holding hands, starts to chant Om together, it is breathtaking. Standing there under the sky sprinkled with thousands of stars, chanting with the multitude, I felt lifted to the air by that powerful, all-pervasive sound. That was a sound of awe-inspiring Visnu, the creator of the world.

     Eventually it faded too. Everyone rose their folded hands to the sky and then we all paid obeisance to Divine, in gratefulness for the food that was about to be served.

To be continued…