My first Vrindavana parikrama

It has been an entire week since I have gotten up in time for mangala arati! Getting sick really put a damper on my will power. For quite some days I was nearly incapacitated, but once my health began to return, my sadhana wasn't showing signs of recovery. My first week here in Vrindavana it was nearly painless to get up at 3:30 in the morning, but recently its been a struggle to open my eyes before 6:30.
But, by Krishna's mercy, the mosquitos have arrived. I am convinced there is an entire colony of them taking up residence in my traveler's backpack. Since it's still rather warm, we sleep without any sheets or bankets, simply covered by the clothes on our back. The mosquitos love that. It was almost impossible to sleep last night. I was bit at least 200 times. The mosquitos here are a bit more merciful than in the states, however; their bites only itch for a few hours and then seem to disappear. Regardless, I spend the night half dreaming, half scratching. So when my alarm tried to wake me at 4, as it has been doing every day to no avail, I woke up sleepy and in mid-scratch. I tried to pull my gumcha over me for some slight protection from those tiny rascals, but I soon realized the futility of my attempts. Why am I going to even try to sleep through this?

I am suffering here in bed, and still I am trying to stay...

I jumped out of bed. Within minutes I was no longer tired at all. Mangala arati was just wonderful, as always. I spend most of my time baffled at the beauty and mood of Sri Sri Gaura Nitai. Everytime I see Krishna Balarama, and every time I see Radhe Shyam I am overwhelmed by Their unmatched beauty. But They are also completely present in the lila of Gaura Nitai. When I look at Gaura Nitai, I see Krishna and Balarama, and I see Radhe Shyam, and I see the ultimate shelter of mercy.

My Finnish friend Sana showed up next to me for Nrisimhadeva prayers. As soon as we paid our obeisances, she looked at me urgingly. "Celo, parikrama. Celo." She was going to take me on my first two-hour early morning walk around the parameter of Sri Vrindavan dhama.
We entered parikrama marg- the pilgrimage path. She paid her obeisances to the marg, and I followed. We walked at a swift pace, the ground beneath our bare feet shifting between soft, muddy and rocky. Quiet blanketed the streets. For the first time since coming here, I felt a calmness pervading the entire village. The path was specked with other pilgrims also taking their morning walk in worship of the land of Vrindavana. Many were still asleep on bamboo cots on the side of the road or inside humble structure; some were bathing at the public water taps.
The path first traverses behind the VIHE and ISKCON goshala. Then it comes up Keshi Ghat and flanks the holy Yamuna. On a clear day, one can see the sun rising over the Yamuna, casting orange hues across the Braja horizon. But today was rather cloudy; what was more noticeable was the addictive scent of smoke whispering through the morning air, the soft breeze brushing against the faces of the pilgrims, of the cows, of the deities now waking in Their temples. As the morning pressed on, bells and conch shells sounded from hidden courtyards, ashramas and tiny homes. Kirtan rang out, faintly or blaringly, depending on the mood of the devotees leading.
Mud caked my feet. Every toe has to avoid slippery mud, cow dung, sharp pebbles. But somehow, its all sacred. Every step is something special. When I step on a sharp rock, I am getting purified. When I lose my balance in some sneaky puddle, I grab tighter to my japa beads and my chanting grows louder, more sincere. I am trying to become completely dependent on Krishna. What the morning holds is up to Him, we are just trying to walk in service, to chant nicely, to remember His enternal presence here and within our hearts and in the hearts of all living beings.
I approached a beautiful Brahman cow to give her a morning hug. My hands glided across her soft face, she looked at me warily, as if to warn me. She turned her head to reveal a missing ear. How can a cow lose an ear? It was such a tragic sight, such a painful sight, probably caused by a crazed monkey. But, all I could think was that this is her last life, she has taken birth in Vrindavana dhama. She is more fortunate than most everyone on the planet. I patted her gently and moved on as an older women seemed to signal that we better move on, that the cow is in pain and so might be unpredictable. It is said that all the inhabitants whove taken birth in Vrindavana will never be born again, so they are all worshipable. All the living entities here are worthy of worship. Its an energy, a reality, that I am just beginning to feel in my heart. This place is not just any place. This is the place where the Lord Himself desires to descend to reclaim the love of the world. Vrindavana is the heart of the world, of this universe among millions of universes. There is a common saying amongst those who have experienced this place and returned to where they came from. "I lost my heart in Vrindavana."
I beg to become like them. I pray and pray at the Lord's lotus feet to lose my heart here. I want to leave and never leave, to always remember Vrindavana and reside in Vrindavan in my heart, no matter where my duties take me.
The journey took us through very rural areas. The second half of the parikrama was my favorite. The village seems quiter, more prestine, more simple. There aren't many honking horns or cars, if any. The roads are rough and the Brajbasis' are extremely simple. They live along the Yamuna plain in thatch houses stuccoed in cowdung. One of the walls of one of these homes was an enormous tree. The home was no larger than a walk-in-closet. Surrounded by open fields, the family sat outside tending to the morning fire, some kind of breakfast sending pleasant aromas toward us. The river Yamuna was in the distance. It was one of the most picturesque scenes I've ever witnessed.
As the sky grew lighter Sana and I began sharing wonderful personal experiences in our devotional lives. She told me of her previous experiences in Vrindavana, including a one-month parikrama around the entire Braja-mandala a few years back. I would just love to do that one day.

When we returned to the temple, Govindam prayers had just begun. We washed the dust from our feet and ran into the temple. Fresh tulasi leaves came flying off the altar into our hands. I was back! Sweaty and covered head to toe in Vrindavana dust, we marveled at the increasing beauty of the deities. Everyday They become more and more captivating.

Not five minutes later, Panchagoda, the temple president here who I've known in Alachua for many years, looked over at me with his huge trademark grin and a raised eyebrow and asked, "Have you been on vacation?" Krishna wasn't the only one who hadn't seen me at the morning program.

I loved that. I looked at Sri Sri Radha Shyamasundar. A smile conquered my face. In Vrindavana, there's just no getting away with anything, and no reason to try. Sometimes this place hurts, but somehow at the end of the day...and at the beginning...its always too sweet to resist.

An unbelievable Sunday of reflection: July 25th

Today is a very special day for all Vaishnavas. We celebrate Guru Purnima, or the appearance of Srila Vyasudeva, the compiler of the Vedas as well as the ripest, most wonderful commentary of Vedanta- the Srimad Bhagavatam. Vyasudeva is the literary incarnation of the Lord, so naturally the celebration of His appearance brings throngs to Vrindavana. Today is also the disappearance day of Sri Sanatana Goswami, one of Lord Caitanya's six principle disciples and an incredible personality in the Gaudiya Vaishnava sampradaya. Being Sunday, there was no school, so Jaya Sita and I left early this morning to go on pilgramage to Sanatana Goswami's bhajan kutir (the tree and surrounding area where he stayed and worshipped Sri Madhan Mohan), and his samadhi (holy place of burial) to chant and take the association of senior devotees.We took a very long route through Loi Bazarre in the early morning hours before any of the shops had opened. Jaya Sita led the way, based on the route taken by Aindra Prabhu on his final parikrama around Vrindavana before cremation at the Yamuna river. We walked all the way to the Yamuna and had some trouble finding the Madhan Mohan temple. There were hundreds, probably thousands of pilgrims bathing in the Yamuna this morning. It was a sea of color and noise, families splashing about, coming in and getting out all around, boats overfilled with passengers. We followed the parikrama marg (pilgrimage path) in the opposite direction to finally get to the mandir. With the Yamuna on our right, we walked continuously through the morning, barefooted and chanting softly. I would love to do this walk a bit earlier in the morning, before the sun starts settling in the sky, somewhere between 5 and 6AM.
On our way there we passed by the Sri Sri Radha Gopinatha mandir, and I very much wanted to go in. This temples was just beautiful. In the front courtyard is the huge remnance of a tamarind tree where Krishna was said to have sat under while meditating on Radharani, after she disappeared from the rasa dance. The mural on the wall said that Krishna turned a molten gold complexion, the same as Radharani, while meditating upon her in separation. The wall also said that Radharani sat under the tree once and a ripe tamarind (fruit?) fell and somehow washed the decorations off her feet. I think the decorations are made with some kind of natural paint or dye. She then made a curse that no tamarind tree would bear ripe fruit in the vicinity, which still holds true today. Lord Caitanya also came and sat under this same tree, where He 'chanted the holy names of the Lord and spread love of Godhead."
The temple's presiding deities are Sri Sri Radha Gopinatha, as well as Sri Sri NitaiGaura. There is a large murti of Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati Thakura to the left of the altar. Covering the temple walls all on sides are stunning, three-dimensional scenes of Lord Caitanya's ecstatic pastimes. Jaya Sita and I took the Lord's carinamrita (the sweet water the deities are bathed in each morning), circumambulated the temple, payed our obeisances and headed back out to parikrama marg. This temple was just a wonderful place. They have what seems to be a marble in-lay of Lord Caitanya's lotus feet, so I would like to ask someone if they are really His. I was under the impression His feet were extremely large, though, considering His substantial height.
After two and a half hours of walking we finally sat down at Srila Sanatana Goswami's beautiful little bhajan kutir. It was noisy all around, but a soft, sweet recording of the maha-mantra was playing from inside the tiny structure. I felt a great sense of peace here; in the distance there are fields and undeveloped land near the Yamuna, stretching far off into the distance. I do wish that I could have seen Vrindavana in its quieter days, but I am trying to absorb the mood here beyond the chaotic hoards of pilgrims and locals. What is happening to Vrindavana, the intense build-up, is just a fact of life. The more people want to come to Vrindavana, the more the Vrajbasis can make if they accomodate them. Our teacher Prasanta Prabhu told us today that just 20 years ago you could hardly even find a rickshaw driver (a bicycle driver!) to take you to Loi Bazarre, you just had to walk. Now, the honking cars and motorcycles leave little room for all the rickshaws and cows and pedestrians and its just piling up and up and up to an extreme.
If anything, the sadness of Vrindavana's changing atmosphere gives me greater incentive to chant more sincerely, to pray for the help to see and love Vrindavana for everything that it really is and always will be. I also await the time when I will set spiritual foot in Goloka Vrindavana, Krishna's eternal abode, the original inspiration for this place. For now my greatest task and pleasure is to try and experience the glories of this non-different Gokula.
We met Prasanta Prabhu at the bhajan kutir. We sat quite close to her while she chanted and chanted, a soft breeze blowing all around, monkeys jumping across the tarps which acted as an outdoor shade against the hot Indian sun. While there, we saw at least three monkey stealth- attacks; one managed to steal an entire box of ladhus and began eating them one by one in ecstacy. He hit the jackpot. I drew a sketch from where I was sitting, nestled right in front of the kutir, the beautiful Madhana Mohan temple in the right backround, trees intricately weaving their way up the pillars supporting the open walls of the kutir.
After some time she emerged from meditation and began sharing some Sanatana Goswami nectar with us, in celebration of his incredible life in Lord Caitanya's service. The goswami's were said to have slept very little, no more than one or two hours each night. They chanted an incredible number of rounds everyday, their taste for the holy names is something my feeble heart cannot begin to comprehend. This was the place where Sanatana Goswami stayed on occasion. It wasn't inside the kutir persay, this structure was built later ing commemoration of the spot. Like the other Goswami's he slept under a tree, and this was where that tree stood over 500 years ago. He would worship his deity, Madhan Mohan (Krishna, the attractor of cupid) and rest Him in the tree, hanging from a swing (a julan, I believe its called).
Sanatana Goswami spent hours upon hours studying sastra and writing books, on the order of Lord Caitanya. He would beg for flour and add water to make little dough balls, which he placed into the hot coals of a retiring fire. Offering these meager bread balls to Madhan Mohan, the deity eventually came to Sanatana in a dream and complained about the offering. 'It's just so plain, can't you at least add a little salt or something?' But Sanatana Goswami replied that he didn't have time to find salt as a mendicant, and if he added salt, next thing the deity would ask for sugar...so no way. But one day very soon after, as Sanantana was working away at this spot, he caught glimpse of a big boat stuck on a sandbar on the Yamuna. The boatmen were asking for help to unload the goods on board, and Sanatana went there. The boat was filled with salt. It was a salt carrier. So Sanatana Goswami got Krishna's little trick, and Sri Madhan Mohanji got His salted breadballs.
It is said that the goswamis were born already in bhava bhakti. At the age of 5, Sanatana Goswami had a dream where little boy Krishna came to him. Krishna handed him a Srimad Bhagavatam and told him to study it very carefully. When Sanatana woke, he was so pleased to have seen Krishna, but distressed when there was no Bhagavatam there. A few days later a child came to him and directly handed him the Srimad Bhagavatam, and then disappeared. Sanatana Goswami realized that this boy was also Krishna, coming back to personally give him the book, as he had desired.
In the teachings of Lord Caitanya to Sanatana Goswami in the Caitanya Caritamrita, it is written:
"O my Lord, there is no limit to the unwanted orders of lusty desires. Although I have rendered these desires so much service, they have not shown any mercy to me. I have not been ashamed to serve them, nor have I even desired to give them up. O my Lord, O head of the Yadu dynasty, recently, however, my intelligence has been awakened, and now I am giving them up. Due to transcendental intelligence, I now refuse to obey the unwanted orders of these desires, and I now have come to You to surrender myself fully at your fearless lotus feet. Kindly engage me in Your personal service and save me." -CC 22.16
This is now one of my very favorite prayers. Service to Krishna is like a shining sun in the heart of the devotee, gradually dispelling the darkness in all the hidden nooks of the conditioned soul. Somehow, a simple way of life becomes so attractive, and so many desires which once pulled me left and right now have no substantial hold. But, there are still so many things to work on. So many anarthas, unwanted attachments, fears, unfulfilled desires, hanging on for dear life, trying to keep me from truly loving and surrendering. Sometimes, when I reflect on all the anarthas I am discovering within myself, I feel like I was a better person before I began practicing devotional service. But actually, I just never realized the contents of my own heart. There is an analogy that makes so much sense in this regard.
If your house is very dirty, and you decide to clean it, in the beginning stages it may seem you are making even more of a mess. The dust is flying everywhere, there are so many clothes to get rid of so they are lying in piles to be sorted and donated, the garage needs to be tackled with a back-hoe...all of these things. So when we actually begin to clean the house, that's when we start to realize just how filthy it really is. We didn't even know when we started what we were getting into. We didn't know how many dust bunnies were under the bed, or how many cat hairs were stuck to the chair in corner. But the point is, its getting clean. And eventually, after all the hard work, if we can maintain patience, enthusiasm and determination to continue, the house will be spotless. Absolutely spotless. So this devotional service is cleaning the house of our heart so that we can engage in real loving exchanges with our dear most friend. We want nothing more than to love Krishna with a pure heart, so bhakti (loving devotional service) is therefore both the means to achieve the goal and the goal itself. So please, 'my dear Lord, kindly engage me in Your personal service and save me!'

After all this we followed Prasanta Prabhu wherever she wanted to take us. First we got to take darshan at Sanatana Goswami's samadhi. It's a beautiful dome building, and inside there is a representative murti, just a ovular white marble stone about the size of a mini refrigerator. The murti is adorned with Vaishnava tilaka and offered flower garlands, fruits, sweets, incense, etc. We offered flowers, and received maha prasadam- a garland and ladhus (deliciously sweet balls). We circumambulated the samadhi and also paid obeisances to Sanatana's book samadhi, housing all the books he wrote. SO AMAZING!
After, we went to the temple where the replicas of Sri Sri Radha Madhan Mohan are worshiped. When the Muslims invaded Vrindavana some centuries ago, they ransacked, defaced or completely flattened most of the major temples in Vrindavana. It is still very noticeable- many temples have defaced walls, the high temple domes are cut off to nubs, entire temple rooms are reduced to nothing but rubble. In order to protect the deities, who were big targets for the Muslims who only see Them as idols, the Vrajbasis would hide Them wherever they could find safe space- even burying them in kunds (sacred bathing spots) or underground. Most of the deities were taken to Jaipur in Rajasthan, where the ksatriya (warriors / administrators) stronghold kept them safe from Muslim attack. They are still being worshipped there today, but replicas, actual expansions of the original deities, were re-introduced here in Vrindavana. So most of the main deities here are expansions of the originals now in Jaipur. I would love to travel to Jaipur one day to see Radha Madhan Mohan, Radha Damodhar, all of them...
Just after we arrived at Madhan Mohan, the pujaris opened the curtains. To Prasanta Prabhu's delight, the six goswamis were there too, beautifully painted wooden figures seated on the floor in front of the deities, with huge offerings of all kinds- rice, dahl, subjis, greens, sweet rice, malpuris, and on and on and on. I managed to steal a few great pictures. Madhan Mohan looks like he has very very big ears, which was just so sweet. We were given maha prasadam right off the altar- banana leaf cups filled with rice, subji and sak, spinach. An arati began, which was much shorter than an ISKCON temple arati, and so difficult for the ears to bear. Two adults were banging gongs back and forth while a small child was pulling the rope on a huge bell hanging from the ceiling. We basically covered our ears the whole time. Afterwards, we indulged in Radha Madhan Mohan's maha prasadam and caught a rickshaw back to the Krishna Balaram Mandir. It was a spectacular morning with Prasanta Prabhu. Wizard school extracurricular sadhu-sanga with 'Sastra on Wheels."
Srila Vyasudeva ki Jaya!
Srila Sanatana Goswami ki Jaya!

Our world in a weekend

Over the past couple of days I have felt greatly inspired to describe many of the small details of my experience here in Sri Vrindavan Dhama. By writing I feel closely drawn to each moment, able to recapture and rethink even the subtle details. Sometimes, I've found, the beauty of life exists so boldly within those smaller moments, especially here where life is taken in simple strides, not too far beyond the altar, the school, the barn, the river, the corner market. In wanting to describe the feelings I experience while living here, I have found it necessary to pick up my camera. As most of you know, I hardly ever do that. I practically hate to take photos. I prefer other people to take the pictures and send them to me. =) But thanks to the encouragment of my roommate, I have a newfound love for expressing the Brijbasis' point of view as I have witnessed it. So putting it all together somehow, for the benefit of piecing through my mind's web of thoughts and memories and making something worth sharing, I will begin a Sri Vrindavana Dhama blog. This is dedicated to everyone who made it their mission to support my travels here, to everyone who didn't necessarily support my travels here (understandable, of course) but love me anyway, and most of all, to the Brijbasis' whose lives are so inspirational and fascinating that I just can't help but share them.

All in the thoughts of a morning:
Srimad Bhagavatam class at the temple this morning was more or less centered around offering and taking prasadam. The speaker was emphasizing the importance of offering nice preparations to the Lord, but not greatly endeavoring to accept oppulent prasadam. We should always want to honor the Lord's prasadam, but in terms of our everyday eating, we should, according to Narada Muni's instructions to Dhruva Maharaja, be satisfied with the fruits and roots of the forest. In other words, we should be satisfied with simple eating, simple prasadam. This class pleased Jaya Sita and I both very much, as she had been tirelessly questioning whether her eating preferences were worthy of offering, considering they were not Krishna's favorites. I was pleased because I felt nice confirmation that the restricted diet we are on is also good for spiritual growth. Having been very sick, both of us are quiet traumatised by the thought of certain foods. So for now all we've been eating, without much fail, are plain boiled potatoes, dried fruits and nuts, chapatis, juice and water. It's simple prasadam indeed, kind of like the 'roots and fruits of the forest' idea, and actually, I feel quite spectacular. My mind is calm and concentrated during class, and its much easier to handle the heat with a stomach that's not spending all day overendeavoring to digest thick subjis, puris and curd. About once a day though, everyday, I daydream about having a Slurpee, and on occasion, an icecream cone.

Actually at one point, I thought I had come up with the most ingenius plan ever- to become the first Slurpee walla in Vrindavana. I could set up an authentic Slurpee stand right outside the Krishna Balarama Mandir and thrill all the Indian's with this classic American refreshment. In this heat its practically unresistable for the foreigners too, considering they crave cold beverages in the summer, contrary to the suggestions of Ayurveda. Anyways, I decided it would be best not to try and pollute Vrindavana with any more city influence. Vrindavana was a quiet little village just twenty years ago. Now, 'for the benefit of the community,' a 'simulated earthquake,' as our loving neighbor Parvati Prabhu calls it while mocking the local government, has hit Vrindavana. Entire blocks are being torn down and roads are being widened to facilitate more cars and more people. Kali Yuga inches onward...
Perhaps when the first Slurpee walla shows up here and makes it big I'll suffer in lamentation, but for now I'd rather experience this taste of authentic Indian austerity, and bear the water at room temperature.

A day in pictures:

Today we made it to school just in time to see the beautiful oxen come out of the goshala to graze in the fields surrounding our building. When they first came out the dust began to waft up under their hooves, and I was reminded of Krishna's pastimes in the forest of Vrindavana with the calves and cowherd boys. These animals are just so beautiful, and however big they are, they are usually always ready to make friends. Sometimes they will walk right up to me if I'm wearing a flower garland, and without needing to ask, nibble it right off my neck for a delicious maha snack.



Here's my roommate Jaya Sita posing at school with our yard men. They cut the grass everyday for free!

Our classroom before the teacher got here. There are about 25 of us in the class, about 17 girls and 8 boys. I say boys and girls, but the age range is between 20 and 30, mostly. We also have one 14-year-old girl and a woman in her fifties. We all sit on the ground on these straw mats, which have the sweetest smell you can imagine, and each of us have a little desk for writing. The teacher's seat is to the far left, cushioned nicely and covered in soft cotton cloth. This simple set- up is minimal, clean and customary of the traditional village classroom. My legs are still getting used to sitting Indian-style for four hours! But I love it this way...


Erin, you wanted to see what the little temples look like. This is a view of a samadhi (a saintly person's body or ashes are held here) and little temple right outside our classroom. The plant in the foreground which is sitting inside the earthen pillar is Tulasi devi, who is worshipped throughout India. Tulasi leaves are offered to Krishna, as well as all of the other deities. Tulasi devi is considered a great devotee of the Lord, so Krishna is so pleased when offerings are made with Tulasi. We put the leaves on His feet, in His water cups, on each food preparation...and huge garlands are made which hang from His neck, smaller ones on His ankles and wrists. Like our school, the Tulasi stand and samadhi are stuccoed in cow dung. Cow dung is actually completely antiseptic and is the best stucco ever!

Three chearful classmates before class begins. The one on the bottom left is from Brazil but currently lives in Australia. The black one is from South Africa but currently lives in New Zealand. The pale white one is from Finland and was just deathly ill with the same diarreah/fever as I had, but she spent a day in the local hospital, an experience she wouldn't recommend to anybody. This was her first day back, looking a little under the weather. Just a day in the life...With the exception of an American-born Indian girl living in Boise, I am the only one in our class from the US! There are also Russians, Indians, two from Mauritius one from France, one from Germany, and my roommate whose originally from Puerto Rico. Somehow all of them speak excellent English, which makes me feel very thankful but also quite lazy...they all know at least 2 languages, many know at least 3.