Thursday, July 21, 2022

White City, Saskatchewan

Neat Exchanges

I was sitting next to Gil on the Air Canada flight to Regina. He explained that he and his buddies from Hamilton are off to a Metis fest to play their music. “It’s rock, Creedence Clearwater Revival music. We go all around.” Gil pointed to his t-shirt with a logo which reads, “Mystic River,” the name of their band.

Gil was just a great dude to talk to although the chat was brief, only after we landed. The flight was tough – poor movement of air as we were in the back corner and with masks on the whole time. Just meeting Gil made up for the physical discomfort.

A kind-hearted Ciranjiva, a Gujarati from birth, picked me up at the airport to bring me to the home of stalwart devotees, Jagannath, Cintamani, and Kavita, in a fast-growing town, White City. From here we drove to see a Sharma family. Together we watched the recent news coverage of the past Chariot Fest, Regina’s first. Good job done!

Once our visit was completed, we drove towards White City and I asked to be dropped off at a pharmacy to purchase new razors. I told them I would walk back to the house on my own. “You know, I have to get some walking in every day.” I made my purchase and a curious bunch of teens in the parking lot wanted to make the connection. So, they did. We exchanged fancy handshakes. I gave them new ones they hadn’t known. It blew them away. Then we did selfies. Then we chanted. One guy, Chase by name, asked if I have anything I can share, once all the frivolity amongst us was over.

“You have to balance life by giving some attention to your soul,” I said. He seemed to really appreciate that suggestion. I hope to see him in August when he comes to Toronto to watch the Blue Jays baseball game.

“Hey, the monk here is gonna treat me to a gourmet dinner in T.O.” he told his friends.

May the Source be with you!

3 km

 

Wednesday, July 20, 2022

Ramsden Park, Toronto

The Rain Came

It works quite well for me when Gabriel takes the lead on his guitar. There were seven of us sitting on top of the mound in the park, poised to begin kirtan, when I asked him to strum away. Out of that spontaneously came a fresh new melody and then the receive-and-respond chanting process began. Oh, we had fun, and reverence at the same time. The name is non-different from the Lord.

An hour and a half lapsed and it was time to retire for the day. Rain was also about to descend. I stayed on at the mound when a younger guy, actually 42, came to sit next to me. He had questions. First of all, he had seen me around on foot in the area. A fan of the Blue Jays, he also works at Rogers Stadium and walks from there to his home.

“I had a bike. Someone stole it, so I started walking everywhere!”

His questions were going in the direction of depth, philosophically. This doesn’t happen everyday, that you meet someone like this, but he was indeed grasping the concept of matter and spirit differentiation. “Let’s put a little more energy into the soul.” We were both enjoying the back-and-forth conversation and agreed, “Let’s do more of this.”

I told him I was leaving for the Prairies early tomorrow morning. He even suggested “I’ll take you to my place. On the top of the condo building, you’ll see the real blue jays.” I extended the invitation. “That gorgeous building you referred to (243 Ave. Rd.) is my home, my temple, and it has a restaurant. Let’s get together and do a follow up with more talks.”

Then the rain came.

May the Source be with you!

 

Tuesday, July 19, 2022

Cherry Beach, Toronto

Getting Around

We were on our way to the Tommy Thompson Park, a shaded-in-spots trail where cyclists and pedestrians share the space, when a man on a bicycle stopped to ask if we had any drugs. His articulation was weak and so we had to ask him to repeat himself. We were still wet from the swim at Cherry Beach and in our swimwear, not recognizable as monks. With me were Emanuel, Karuna, Ryan, and Arjuna. We didn’t really come across looking like folks who take substance to get high. He was naturally disappointed when we couldn’t deliver.

We had also met two young Punjabi men who came out of the lakes’ water. Somehow or other, they could detect our identity. “Hare Krishna,” said the stockier one. “Back home I’m involved,” he said.

The devotional clothing that we normally wear, the dhoti and the kurta (or for women it’s a saree), is a trademark for Hare Krishna devotees. The night before, when I returned from my walk and was about to reach the ashram door, a neighbour walking his dog asked, “How are those robes in the heat of summer?”

“Oh! Very cool and comfy,” I said. I wanted to say more about the freedom those of us feel in our attire, but the gentleman was on his merry way. The kind of freedom is like the liberated mood of Narada. He moves about in light monks’ clothes, delivering to people the sublime sound of the maha mantra. We should be like him; travel about, hear from people and deliver Krishna in the form of sound.

May the Source be with you!

5 km