An Incredible Master
Auckland, New Zealand.
It was a soggy morning walking on Great South Road. Socks got soaked and holey. Radha Madhava and I took a break to visit The Loft. There we met the Loft’s gracious hosts, all women, who run this yoga centre. It attracts people of International background many of whom are students. Some of the yoga practitioners have taken to regular mantra meditation. From Monday to Thursday yoga lessons are given in the evening. Then, Friday, the women from The Loft, the local monks who had been travelling and some folks from the farm community converge on Queen St. for a massive kirtan, street chanting. On Saturday to Sunday for a retreat, the women go to the main temple farm and have their break from the city. What an attractive program!
Our evening was spent with the Singh family where devotees came this time to hear of the relationship between Krishna and Shiva, god of dissolution. It was a lively gathering. We got the visitors to use their legs to dance while chanting. At the settle down time one kind soul loaned me his copy of Sri Vyasa-puja, an annual publication to honour our guru, Srila Prabhupada. Inside is published a poem, a personal offering from myself to him. Here I will share it:
The Incredible Master
Nobody has it like some of us do,
A master of which you’ll find very few,
With sharpness of wit and words he could whip
At science and pundits who distort by the lip.
With grace of hand and adjusting of head,
Elegant of gesture with fingers on bread,
He tossed each morsel of the edible n’ blessed
To the lotus like mouth, and so with the rest.
A message like thunder, a definitive of light –
For us dullards it comes magnanimously bright.
The topic of service in the line of devotion
That moves along like smooth locomotion.
With a smile that beamed ocean wide,
Stretched out a distance from side to side,
He bore a reason to look way ahead
And never to hang low like a hopeless head.
His lesson pronounced a radical meekness,
Otherwise declare – admit to ultimate weakness.
Kindness, concern was his absolute trait,
His thrust was one to advance very straight.
In an unprecedented and very brief time
The earth shook at a political prime,
He racked up incredible marathon levels,
Giving a challenge to desires and devils.
In this world it’s rare to see anything lasting,
But his radiance shines even after his passing.
Memories are gathering, worthy to behold,
Never to be traded, nor to be sold.
A master so rare like a needle in hay,
A mahatma who stays in sound – what more to say?
Drink up his words, observe his action,
Do as he did, or even just a fraction.