Toronto, Ontario
The Guru “Without”
A couple came up from Michigan and we but relished a stroll in the park. We were just catching up from where we left off in conversation from their last visit. For continuity’s sake and for the sake of learning what we haven’t already, we talked about devotion. Frankly we are all students of life and it makes sense to dedicate a portion of the day to topics that centre on the self, the soul.
I had another person come today wanting to know the need for a guru who is also a topic in the line of devotion. In this day of self-help when someone may convince you that “the guru within”, common sense, or intuition may be sufficient for achieving spiritual strength and understanding, why seek assistance from anywhere else?
The fact of the matter is that while we may apply some intuitive power, any one individual lacks all the intelligence needed to be able to accomplish all things. We are simply not God. We are born with flaws and frailties. A guru “without”, however, has much experience, gives guidance, gives inspiration, gives wisdom and measures progress made.
If someone wants to become a great athlete, cook, businessman, whatever, that person can make a lot of effort in any respective direction, but it doesn’t hurt to take assistance from a source that has a proven background of success. Please check 4.34 from the Bhagavad Gita and the illuminated purport by Srila Prabhupada.
May the Source be with you!
1 KM
B L O G S P O T
Friday, 3 April 2015
Tuesday, March 17th, 2015
Toronto, Ontario
It’s March Break
It’s March break, which means so many young folks, especially those from the secondary school level, the teens, are out on the street. Despite a wind with a biting cold, they were out on Yonge Street downtown, ‘where all the lights are bright’, and ‘where everything’s waiting for you’. Nick and I were making our way to the evening Bhakti Lounge kirtan event. Pedestrians were moving at a good clip, it’s the way to keep warm. One tall fellow, who looked like a Punjabi, blurted out with an enthusiastic, “Hari Bol!” which means, “Chant the name of Hari (God)!” He passed by so quickly that I couldn’t recognize him. Oh well, a man of mystery.
Kirtan at the lounge went well, followed by a vegan dinner where we had time to mingle with those who choose to take a break from the material world.
My return to the ashram was the same route, Yonge Street, where all the lights are even brighter now that nighttime is upon us. It was Dimitri who accompanied me, when the same man of mystery uttered once again, “Haribol!” in the most jovial way. From the crowd of pedestrians emerged this same fellow from before. He stopped. He was a little shy and tried to hide his cigarette with hand behind his back.
“You don’t know me, but I know you. I was one year old when I had my birthday party in your temple, so my parents tell me. I’ve seen you over the years, haribol.” We shook hands in a hearty way. It was a good exchange. For me, hearing haribol from a happy face changes the way I view this street of big time maya, illusion.
May the Source be with you!
7 KM
It’s March Break
It’s March break, which means so many young folks, especially those from the secondary school level, the teens, are out on the street. Despite a wind with a biting cold, they were out on Yonge Street downtown, ‘where all the lights are bright’, and ‘where everything’s waiting for you’. Nick and I were making our way to the evening Bhakti Lounge kirtan event. Pedestrians were moving at a good clip, it’s the way to keep warm. One tall fellow, who looked like a Punjabi, blurted out with an enthusiastic, “Hari Bol!” which means, “Chant the name of Hari (God)!” He passed by so quickly that I couldn’t recognize him. Oh well, a man of mystery.
Kirtan at the lounge went well, followed by a vegan dinner where we had time to mingle with those who choose to take a break from the material world.
My return to the ashram was the same route, Yonge Street, where all the lights are even brighter now that nighttime is upon us. It was Dimitri who accompanied me, when the same man of mystery uttered once again, “Haribol!” in the most jovial way. From the crowd of pedestrians emerged this same fellow from before. He stopped. He was a little shy and tried to hide his cigarette with hand behind his back.
“You don’t know me, but I know you. I was one year old when I had my birthday party in your temple, so my parents tell me. I’ve seen you over the years, haribol.” We shook hands in a hearty way. It was a good exchange. For me, hearing haribol from a happy face changes the way I view this street of big time maya, illusion.
May the Source be with you!
7 KM
Monday, March 16th, 2015
Toronto, Ontario
Clearing Clouds
The middle aged musician strumming gently on his guitar while singing away, he had his own self styled attire, a hat which was a cross between an American cowboy hat and an Australian bush or slouch hat. Over his body was draped something in the family of a poncho. He sported long, sandy coloured hair. An artist? Yes. Eccentric? Yes, I’d say so. It was an instant judgment on my part.
He stopped playing and singing as Chaitanya Mangala, our Brazilian monk, and I, came close to him while on our walk on Danforth Avenue. He started talking. He spoke in an intellectual/philosophical way, yet coherent it was not. I basically nodded, agreeing to his remarks which rattled on. I couldn’t get a word in. I could sense though, that he approved of us. We were different, and so was he. The one radical can understand the other radical.
I find that when there is a lacking in communication, speech wise, then I just slide in a mantra card. That, then, does the magic. After all the mumbo jumbo the fellow was uttering, he finally came out and said the two Sanskrit words, Hare Krishna. The mantra seemed to clear any cloud of confusion for both him and us. It’s just doing its job. It works like the sun and burns away the fog.
May the Source be with you!
5 KM
Clearing Clouds
The middle aged musician strumming gently on his guitar while singing away, he had his own self styled attire, a hat which was a cross between an American cowboy hat and an Australian bush or slouch hat. Over his body was draped something in the family of a poncho. He sported long, sandy coloured hair. An artist? Yes. Eccentric? Yes, I’d say so. It was an instant judgment on my part.
He stopped playing and singing as Chaitanya Mangala, our Brazilian monk, and I, came close to him while on our walk on Danforth Avenue. He started talking. He spoke in an intellectual/philosophical way, yet coherent it was not. I basically nodded, agreeing to his remarks which rattled on. I couldn’t get a word in. I could sense though, that he approved of us. We were different, and so was he. The one radical can understand the other radical.
I find that when there is a lacking in communication, speech wise, then I just slide in a mantra card. That, then, does the magic. After all the mumbo jumbo the fellow was uttering, he finally came out and said the two Sanskrit words, Hare Krishna. The mantra seemed to clear any cloud of confusion for both him and us. It’s just doing its job. It works like the sun and burns away the fog.
May the Source be with you!
5 KM
Sunday, March 15th, 2015
Toronto, Ontario
Get Straight
The weekly Sunday Feast, or our Open House, continues to attract pilgrims, meditators, congregations, and the curious. This event goes on at Krishna Centres all over the globe. Here, in Toronto, there’s no exception.
A young woman by the name of Emily called, asking about kirtan. I let her know that this is the main feature of our Sunday Feast. She informed me that she hopes to come.
“Will it be your first time coming?” I asked her.
“Yes.”
“Great!”
“You know I’m there by my yellow hat,” she said. I informed her of the time.
“6 PM”. And she came. I could spot her in a crowd of about 300. Her yellow wool headpiece did stand out. So as I was about to move to my seat to deliver today’s message to the crowd, I approached her, “Emily?”
“Yes.” She has the biggest smile. It just so occurred that I couldn’t find the time or arrangement afterwards, but I could see that our resident nun by the name of Nandini Radha did have some words with her.
This is one of the main components of the Sunday Feast, it’s people (‘People…’ Barbara Streisand). There’s people who are searching, people who want the peace of mind, people who ask themselves, “Why am I in this world? What is life’s objective? What is my calling? Who am I really?” I did speak in my pravachan (talk) about our guru, Srila Prabhupada, and all he had done to deliver kirtan to the world. I believe this connected with Emily. It appeared to me that Emily and her accompanying friend had a good time. I do hope they come again.
After the feast, the usual cleanup took place, or should take place. I, amongst other things in the tidy up routine, went around to straighten out the pictures that had been shifted accidentally when people brushed against them. After all, we’re here in this world to straighten out some things. It’s the human obligation.
May Source be with you!
5 KM
Get Straight
The weekly Sunday Feast, or our Open House, continues to attract pilgrims, meditators, congregations, and the curious. This event goes on at Krishna Centres all over the globe. Here, in Toronto, there’s no exception.
A young woman by the name of Emily called, asking about kirtan. I let her know that this is the main feature of our Sunday Feast. She informed me that she hopes to come.
“Will it be your first time coming?” I asked her.
“Yes.”
“Great!”
“You know I’m there by my yellow hat,” she said. I informed her of the time.
“6 PM”. And she came. I could spot her in a crowd of about 300. Her yellow wool headpiece did stand out. So as I was about to move to my seat to deliver today’s message to the crowd, I approached her, “Emily?”
“Yes.” She has the biggest smile. It just so occurred that I couldn’t find the time or arrangement afterwards, but I could see that our resident nun by the name of Nandini Radha did have some words with her.
This is one of the main components of the Sunday Feast, it’s people (‘People…’ Barbara Streisand). There’s people who are searching, people who want the peace of mind, people who ask themselves, “Why am I in this world? What is life’s objective? What is my calling? Who am I really?” I did speak in my pravachan (talk) about our guru, Srila Prabhupada, and all he had done to deliver kirtan to the world. I believe this connected with Emily. It appeared to me that Emily and her accompanying friend had a good time. I do hope they come again.
After the feast, the usual cleanup took place, or should take place. I, amongst other things in the tidy up routine, went around to straighten out the pictures that had been shifted accidentally when people brushed against them. After all, we’re here in this world to straighten out some things. It’s the human obligation.
May Source be with you!
5 KM
Saturday, March 14th, 2015
Brampton, Ontario
Two Black Dudes
I had walked toward Brampton en route to a satsang in someone’s home when off on Eglinton Avenue, I was approached by a couple of black dudes. They were in a black van and they tooted their horn indicating they wanted to talk. They lowered the window, and I could see the interior was black. The two men in the car were in black, their caps were black. The only thing I remember that wasn’t noir was the earring on one of the guys’ earlobes. It was imitation gold.
The passenger was very curious, “Didn’t I see you yesterday in Yorkville (a swanky part of town)? Like, what are you doin’, man?”
“That was me, and now I’m here, walking. I’m a monk, walking. I walked Canada four times.” To this remark, the two looked stunned. I gave them my card, which has on the flip side, the maha mantra: Hare Krishna Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare, Hare Rama Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare.
With an invite to our temple and Govinda’s restaurant, I left them, and with their further questions answered. I hope I’ll see the two black dudes with their glistening earrings in the future, perhaps even at our temple. My point in relating this, once again, is that when you go out in devotional garb, opportunities occur.
There were other areas that I happened to cover on foot today in Etobicoke and Milton. I passed by their various religious institutions, the bulk of them being Christian. There’s one place that promotes themselves as being a venue for miracles. It’s near the Toronto airport. I was tempted to go inside to see if I might experience a miracle, but then I thought, “What the heck, I have miracles happening in my life all the time, big and small.”
May the Source be with you!
7 KM
Two Black Dudes
I had walked toward Brampton en route to a satsang in someone’s home when off on Eglinton Avenue, I was approached by a couple of black dudes. They were in a black van and they tooted their horn indicating they wanted to talk. They lowered the window, and I could see the interior was black. The two men in the car were in black, their caps were black. The only thing I remember that wasn’t noir was the earring on one of the guys’ earlobes. It was imitation gold.
The passenger was very curious, “Didn’t I see you yesterday in Yorkville (a swanky part of town)? Like, what are you doin’, man?”
“That was me, and now I’m here, walking. I’m a monk, walking. I walked Canada four times.” To this remark, the two looked stunned. I gave them my card, which has on the flip side, the maha mantra: Hare Krishna Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare, Hare Rama Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare.
With an invite to our temple and Govinda’s restaurant, I left them, and with their further questions answered. I hope I’ll see the two black dudes with their glistening earrings in the future, perhaps even at our temple. My point in relating this, once again, is that when you go out in devotional garb, opportunities occur.
There were other areas that I happened to cover on foot today in Etobicoke and Milton. I passed by their various religious institutions, the bulk of them being Christian. There’s one place that promotes themselves as being a venue for miracles. It’s near the Toronto airport. I was tempted to go inside to see if I might experience a miracle, but then I thought, “What the heck, I have miracles happening in my life all the time, big and small.”
May the Source be with you!
7 KM
Friday, March 13th, 2015
Etobicoke, Ontario
Show You Love Thy Neighbour
“Love thy neighbour as much as thy self.”
You’ve all heard this phrase from Jesus. It’s a good one to put into practice.
It happened yesterday that I walked in the neighbourhood of our ashram when I passed by a window display of an art shop whose owner I had known. I haven’t seen Don for a long time. He opened up shop 26 years ago, and has been running a successful business selling his and other artist’s works. I thought to do the neighbourly thing, the human thing, stop my stepping , drop in and say hello.
Don’s hospitable wife mans (or womans) the shop, and graciously lead me to the basement where Don is often at work. As usual, he’s got this smile. We started talking. He asked me if I noticed the main painting on display. “No, sorry, I didn’t notice,” I said.
Don said, “It’s by…” (and I forgot the name, but it’s someone who collaborated working with Andy Warhol. Don informed me that it’s probably worth 5 million.
“Is that right?” He went on to talk about his passion, his art, and I could see how he was loving it. I told him of my recent trip to India and of pilgrimage. It was a mutual, neighbourly exchange worth much more than 5 million. I know if I sped by Don’s shop in a car, I wouldn’t bother checking in on Don, but because I was on foot, I had every reason and opportunity to be human.
“Hare Krishna, Don.”
May the Source be with you!
9 KM
Show You Love Thy Neighbour
“Love thy neighbour as much as thy self.”
You’ve all heard this phrase from Jesus. It’s a good one to put into practice.
It happened yesterday that I walked in the neighbourhood of our ashram when I passed by a window display of an art shop whose owner I had known. I haven’t seen Don for a long time. He opened up shop 26 years ago, and has been running a successful business selling his and other artist’s works. I thought to do the neighbourly thing, the human thing, stop my stepping , drop in and say hello.
Don’s hospitable wife mans (or womans) the shop, and graciously lead me to the basement where Don is often at work. As usual, he’s got this smile. We started talking. He asked me if I noticed the main painting on display. “No, sorry, I didn’t notice,” I said.
Don said, “It’s by…” (and I forgot the name, but it’s someone who collaborated working with Andy Warhol. Don informed me that it’s probably worth 5 million.
“Is that right?” He went on to talk about his passion, his art, and I could see how he was loving it. I told him of my recent trip to India and of pilgrimage. It was a mutual, neighbourly exchange worth much more than 5 million. I know if I sped by Don’s shop in a car, I wouldn’t bother checking in on Don, but because I was on foot, I had every reason and opportunity to be human.
“Hare Krishna, Don.”
May the Source be with you!
9 KM
Thursday, March 12th, 2015
Toronto, Ontario
Now Stollery’s Going
Stollery’s is (or was) a rather classy men’s wear store on Yonge and Bloor. It’s been there for years, decades, really. The reason why this place pulls heart strings is because it was at this crossroads, in a way, I was born. The store is now being demolished. While on today’s walk, I was somewhat horrified.
When I say, “I was born,” I mean I began my first sankirtan outreach there. No, I would never consider going inside the store in those early days of ’73 to purchase a three piece suit. I was happy with my monk’s attire, my dhoti and kurta, even though very unstylish, but it was outside of this men’s wear shop that I would approach pedestrians with a book on spirituality. I would try to make friends and try to make the sale. Often times I would succeed. Those were nostaligic days.
I’ll tell you another place that hits the sentiments in the same way. It’s near Yonge and Dundas. Not long ago, the iconic “Sam the Record Man” massive red LP came down. That happened over a year ago. And it’s also nostaligic for me because this is the spot where I used to meet Sam, himself, the elderly Jewish guy, the owner. That building’s been replaced for a contemporary charmless edifice.
The third landmark up for demolition that hits a sensitive nerve is the signature signage of Ed Mirvish’s discount store,“Honest Ed’s” at Bathhurst and Bloor. It’s coming down. To me, they are all places of pilgrimage because this is where the people were, and where the people were, that’s where the Hare Krishnas were. Mantras, Gita’s, and incense were dispersed in these spots, numbering in the hundreds of thousands.
Images of my early monkhood are being buried in the waves of time.
May the Source be with you!
5 KM
Wednesday, March 11th, 2015
Toronto, Ontario
The Can
The wind was kicking the can. It created a crass noise, clanky, hitting the pavement as a repetitious toss in the air. It finally came to a roll, it was bent out of shape. It was a soft drink can from what I could make of it. After the roll it was ditched by the wind into a pool of melted snow by a curb.
I had the notion to pick it up and to carry it to the nearest municipal recycling bin. Yet, the can that caught several pedestrians’ attention, became so submerged, I couldn’t get access unless if I wanted to get my socks and shoes drenched.
Somehow or other I related to the can. I took it to be me, a soul on a sojourn, being hurled around, and then journey’s end materializing. I hope that one day my shenanigans will reach a complete stop, that is, the wrestling of anger, greed, lust, and covetousness.
In the meantime I was enjoying the sound of the symphony, that is, of water dripping, and water flowing, and then draining into the street manholes. It was all the dynamics of a spring thaw that makes its own music.
The can contributed immensely.
May the Source be with you!
7 KM
Tuesday, March 10th, 2015
Toronto, Ontario
The Avalanche Came
I’m back home and dealing with an avalanche of emails. I’m also back into strolling some streets. The snow is melting, may this be the case with my karma also. While walking I am thinking of guru and the need to read his biography once again, this being 50 years since he came to the west for a pioneering of consciousness.
I met with brahmachari monks today. It involved a planning to build a more attractive and effective program for the future. I believe all young men could use a period of training and self discipline (anyone interested can inquire from me).
My reconnection with the community here means tons, as it does to all places I visit. In my absence I see there was little shake up during a five week visit to India. Some hiccups occurred, which happens even when I’m present, because after all, I am a citizen of the material world like anyone else.
Something that came to me from Vasudeva, friend and god-brother from France, some words from Albert Einstein, is for sharing:
“The most beautiful emotion we can experience is the Mysterious. It is the most fundamental emotion at the root of all true art and science. He who this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer wonder and stand wrapped in awe, is as good as dead, a snuffed out candle.”
May the Source be with you!
5 KM
Monday, March 9th, 2015
Brussels/Toronto
Where They Don't Know
Balaram, Mandala, and I left India for the friendly skies. Leaving India means you leave the land that knows. For instance, we went through customs where you get searched by an officer. Because of our attire and certain mannerisms, the security in India knows who you are and what you represent. They'll stamp your boarding pass and say, "Hare Krishna," with a smile and perhaps with a waggle of the head. In other words, they know who you are. They at times ask a question, devotionally related, of course. They may even ask for some prasad (sanctified food). How pious they are!
From Brussels, back to Toronto on Jet Airways, I took the opportunity to speak to a male flight attendant. "I've been a monk for 42 years," I said. He was astounded by that remark. I informed him of my affiliation with Krishna Consciousness. It appears that he knew less, because although from Delhi, he does substantial travelling. Perhaps he's not totally in tune with all that is "Vedic". A thought came to my mind which I shared with Mandala as we sat next to each other in the aircraft. "You know, the more you move in direction away from India, the more you enter territory that 'doesn't' know," meaning about Krishna and His message in the Gita. In one sense it's rather consoling to go to a place where they 'don't' know. That gives us an opportunity to tell.
May the Source be with you!
6 KM
Where They Don't Know
Balaram, Mandala, and I left India for the friendly skies. Leaving India means you leave the land that knows. For instance, we went through customs where you get searched by an officer. Because of our attire and certain mannerisms, the security in India knows who you are and what you represent. They'll stamp your boarding pass and say, "Hare Krishna," with a smile and perhaps with a waggle of the head. In other words, they know who you are. They at times ask a question, devotionally related, of course. They may even ask for some prasad (sanctified food). How pious they are!
From Brussels, back to Toronto on Jet Airways, I took the opportunity to speak to a male flight attendant. "I've been a monk for 42 years," I said. He was astounded by that remark. I informed him of my affiliation with Krishna Consciousness. It appears that he knew less, because although from Delhi, he does substantial travelling. Perhaps he's not totally in tune with all that is "Vedic". A thought came to my mind which I shared with Mandala as we sat next to each other in the aircraft. "You know, the more you move in direction away from India, the more you enter territory that 'doesn't' know," meaning about Krishna and His message in the Gita. In one sense it's rather consoling to go to a place where they 'don't' know. That gives us an opportunity to tell.
May the Source be with you!
6 KM
Saturday, March 7th, 2015
Noida, India
Vanity Reference
I was asked to give the class from the Bhagavatam. I was happy to extract some details from the life of Ajamil (from Canto Six) wherein he abandons irresponsibly wife and family for an existence of rajas (passion) and tamas (ignorance). His story is tragic in a way but gradually transitions back to a track of wholesomeness.
Ajamil, like most of us, had a fairly stable situation. In his case his parents raised him in a sattvic (goodness) environment. Urges within, however, encouraged him to dabble in the lower modes as mentioned above. The story comes to a happy ending leaving us with hope. He took shelter of Narayana before passing. In the course of the entire day, after the class, we spent in drama preparation. I did manage to squeeze in a few minutes to read Jayadvaita Swami's book "Vanity Karma". I had to admire his description of the world as we know it, a description in one passage which far exceeds my grim outline of the world in the class this morning.
Allow me to share Jayadvaita's words:
"Finally there are the miseries caused by other living beings : flies, rats, mosquitoes, viruses, poisonous plants, howling dogs, and worst of all our fellow human beings - in the words of Jonathan Swift : 'the most pernicious race of little odious vermin that nature ever suffered to crawl upon the face of the Earth.'"
He goes on:
"Oppressors with power : the fist, the whip, the blade, the gun; the fear, the threats, the curfews, and barbed wire, the boot in your face; the tanks, cruise missiles, and supersonic bombers; and when things are just quietly humming along, the governmental bleed-you-dry suction machine of tax."
May the source be with you!
3 KM
Vanity Reference
I was asked to give the class from the Bhagavatam. I was happy to extract some details from the life of Ajamil (from Canto Six) wherein he abandons irresponsibly wife and family for an existence of rajas (passion) and tamas (ignorance). His story is tragic in a way but gradually transitions back to a track of wholesomeness.
Ajamil, like most of us, had a fairly stable situation. In his case his parents raised him in a sattvic (goodness) environment. Urges within, however, encouraged him to dabble in the lower modes as mentioned above. The story comes to a happy ending leaving us with hope. He took shelter of Narayana before passing. In the course of the entire day, after the class, we spent in drama preparation. I did manage to squeeze in a few minutes to read Jayadvaita Swami's book "Vanity Karma". I had to admire his description of the world as we know it, a description in one passage which far exceeds my grim outline of the world in the class this morning.
Allow me to share Jayadvaita's words:
"Finally there are the miseries caused by other living beings : flies, rats, mosquitoes, viruses, poisonous plants, howling dogs, and worst of all our fellow human beings - in the words of Jonathan Swift : 'the most pernicious race of little odious vermin that nature ever suffered to crawl upon the face of the Earth.'"
He goes on:
"Oppressors with power : the fist, the whip, the blade, the gun; the fear, the threats, the curfews, and barbed wire, the boot in your face; the tanks, cruise missiles, and supersonic bombers; and when things are just quietly humming along, the governmental bleed-you-dry suction machine of tax."
May the source be with you!
3 KM
Friday, March 6th, 2015
Vrindavan/Noida
War Zone?
It felt like a war zone, really it did. With Holi festival upon us major attacks of coloured powder venture your way. Tourists and pilgrims come to Vraj (Vrindavan) to experience the full tilt of, in the minds of some, an exhilarating event. Some people consider it a nuisance because whether dry or wet application, your clothes, your skin, your house or car gets splattered with the stuff. I'm less inclined towards this type of partying. Tradition has it that Sri Krishna Himself, in sporting with colours centuries ago as a youth, He targeted His gopas and gopis (cowherd friends, both boys and girls). From one point of view the town gets literally coloured, especially with a gorgeous pink-to-violet tone. Looks kind of pretty. And it is a stress reliever. People are happy. It seems like good clean fun. At least I don't see any beer drinking related to it.
On the more dark side I witnessed passion play out from our slowly moving car destined for Noida. Our doors were locked and it's good they were. Enough enthusiasts attempted entry while we were in motion, ready to hurl a good dose of powder. In the frenzy of it all a brawl was about to start nearby and I also saw a young woman, a tourist, get quite clobbered by the colour, much to her dismay.
My story in brief is that after breakfast at the home of Gopal and Avatari (friends), we went through the back stairs, scaled a fence and ran for what seemed our lives with kids well armed that we apparently dodged. That's why I say it was like a battlefield. With candor, I admit though that the rowdiness and prank-prone antics of parties in the west are far more aggressive. In general Asia has got some points ahead of the west when it comes to the spirit of a big party. My opinion!
May the source be with you!
3 KM
War Zone?
It felt like a war zone, really it did. With Holi festival upon us major attacks of coloured powder venture your way. Tourists and pilgrims come to Vraj (Vrindavan) to experience the full tilt of, in the minds of some, an exhilarating event. Some people consider it a nuisance because whether dry or wet application, your clothes, your skin, your house or car gets splattered with the stuff. I'm less inclined towards this type of partying. Tradition has it that Sri Krishna Himself, in sporting with colours centuries ago as a youth, He targeted His gopas and gopis (cowherd friends, both boys and girls). From one point of view the town gets literally coloured, especially with a gorgeous pink-to-violet tone. Looks kind of pretty. And it is a stress reliever. People are happy. It seems like good clean fun. At least I don't see any beer drinking related to it.
On the more dark side I witnessed passion play out from our slowly moving car destined for Noida. Our doors were locked and it's good they were. Enough enthusiasts attempted entry while we were in motion, ready to hurl a good dose of powder. In the frenzy of it all a brawl was about to start nearby and I also saw a young woman, a tourist, get quite clobbered by the colour, much to her dismay.
My story in brief is that after breakfast at the home of Gopal and Avatari (friends), we went through the back stairs, scaled a fence and ran for what seemed our lives with kids well armed that we apparently dodged. That's why I say it was like a battlefield. With candor, I admit though that the rowdiness and prank-prone antics of parties in the west are far more aggressive. In general Asia has got some points ahead of the west when it comes to the spirit of a big party. My opinion!
May the source be with you!
3 KM
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