Over the Pacific, USA
It’s hard to part and leave a spiritual community after bonding with members over a few short days. Like all places, whether tropical like Hawaii or facing the frigid elements like Canada half of the year there is something that is constant regardless of the place. After exchanging hugs with god brother, Suresvara, I would put a finger on that something. It’s the ambient flavour that Krishna delivers in all His homes. And as I walked a final trek on this Hawaiian trip along one of those world-class beaches while Surya, the sungod, peaked over the glimmering liquid line, it was Krishna’s flavour in the form of sound that provided the Bhakti touch.
At the Houston airport one employee I had approached for inquiry mistook my question for saying something about the Midas touch. The Midas touch refers to a repair company that offers excellent services for your car. I actually didn’t say anything about the Midas touch as she, the employee, was perhaps thrown off because of my non-existent southern droll. She did blush a bit when the question was repeated.
The mistake, however, triggered a thought about the Bhakti Touch. Wherever I travel I get the experience of the Bhakti Touch. To describe it, well, it’s warm. It conjures up the experience of sound referred to earlier, the food we call prasadam, the sound of bells and drums, the smell of champaka flower incense, images of flowing robes, a euphoric guru, books of ancient message and people of devotion who smile, hug and touch the heart.
The Bhakti Touch has nothing to do with anything mushy. It’s for real and it’s not mundane.