It was a smoking program. I mean to say that the kirtan chanting was hot. No one smokes a cigarette in a temple. Little incense was lit, so there were no clouds of anything, but kirtan does clear the air, including the cobwebs of the mind.
Ajamil, a passionate Bengali bhajan singer and I teamed up along with Dhira, a golden voiced boy from the Ukraine, to heighten hearts at an evening at Hindu Prarthan Samaj. This place is acknowledged as the oldest Hindu temple in Toronto. The community with its church turned temple near High Park, played host to the pioneers of Krishna consciousness in the late 60’s. A group of American monks showed up at the doorsteps of the Hindu temple for shelter. Their intent was to open up a chapter of Bhakti Yoga, Krishna consciousness, in Toronto. The temple on Fern Avenue showed its benevolence at that time and now it seemed only appropriate to say thanks. Our humble beginning of Krishna consciousness with its seed planted had grown into a lotus flower of devotional activity. Today we enjoyed the participation of hundreds of people. Our smoky evening was a reunion of the two communities.
I decided after the event to trek back home through the Annex district and including Little Italy. I did this not only to clear the cobwebs of the mind but also to clear the pipelines in my machinery, body, after eating a mountainous plate of rich North Indian prasadam, food; our reward for conducting a hot or exhilarating kirtan.