Monday, 3 February 2014

Saturday, February 1st, 2014

Kleinburg, Ontario

A Different Kleinburg

At age 18 I hitchhiked with a friend to this village/town from southwestern Ontario to see the McMichael collection of artwork from the Group of Seven.  Their rendition of impressionistic art defined the nature, and I mean nature, of the Canadian landscape experience.  There are some fine pieces.  My favourite artist, Lauren Harris, did these outstanding pieces illustrating “raw” nature.
 
Four decades plus and I find myself in Kleinburg again.  It’s not the quaint place of before although nestled in a rolling-hills and tree environment.  Through a snow storm (what else is new) myself and a few other lay members of our community entered into an abode of mansions and more particularly the home of an accountant by the name of Rakesh.
 
It was the second engagement with the Punjabi community which was all geared up for an electrifying evening of kirtan.  Dhira Grahi of the Gaura Shakti bhajan band led the chant shortly after Emcee, Lajput introduced your humble servant as “the Walking Monk”.  Before the chant I suggested to Dhira that the Punjabi folks like zippy kirtans.  With a smile he said, “I know!”  And so he let it rip!
 
We honoured the thirteenth birthday of Rakesh’s son, Vipul.  The massive eggless cake was done up well with an ornamented “Prince” in front of his name.  The surface of it was designed like a basketball court which I imagined is Vipul’s passion.  He and his older bro danced up a storm over the percussion of the mridungas. Everyone, family and friends, lept into action in the rhythm of movement.  I noticed some wall-flowers, stiff and shy, who actually wanted to be part of the action.  In time, even they broke out of their shell and got caught up in the spirit of the evening.
 
A good gauge for knowing that the program went devotionally well is when the participants go away with reading material.  Bhaktivedanta Book Trust material, like the Bhagavad-gita, went into eager hands as the finishing touches were put to an ecstatic night.
 
Into the slush storm we went back to the ashram.
 
May the Source be with you!

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