New Vrindavan, West Virginia
It just seems to move you every time when you enter or leave this rustic rural retreat in the Appalachian Mountain range when going down the windy road, the song by John Denver that rings in the ears. The lyrics being, “Country road take me home to the place where I belong, West Virginia, Mountain highway, take me home…”
And, you do it with a tug on the heart. For those of us who come here with a devotional motive, it can’t be helped but to feel the hominess of the place, replete with the ashram, temple, Palace of Gold, peacocks, swans, organic gardens, and now lilac bushes, wild mustards, deer, and tent caterpillars either define the season or the safety of this chunk of space located just outside the town of Moundsville. For me, New Vrindavan means to see and feel these things, but the main relish on my plate here is the company of good souls, in human form. Acquaintances visit here, mostly from the U.S.’s northeast and Canada. We get the chance to chill and do walks. I even half officiated a baby’s first grain taking, something called anna prasana for the proud parents of young Kapila Muni from near Cleveland.
I also met Diana Rose, a clairvoyant, who saved our hide once just before a performance in Mayapura, India. The short of it is that when we were 100% poised to start the drama, “Grandsire” about the life of warrior, Bhishma, my lead actor came to me in a panic and said, “Maharaja, I can’t find my beard.” Lo and behold, Diana came to the rescue and sensed that we had a difficulty and sensed that we were missing a vital prop. “Can I help you?” she asked in eagerness. We told her about the misplaced beautiful flowy white beard. Sure enough, step by step, she lead us to the very spot, where someone thinking it was a rejected piece, tossed it in a room behind our dressing room in a dark corner. She saved the day.
May the Source be with you!