A Collage of Ecstatic Servants

Our humble abode...

Mommy desperately wants to see pictures of Jaya Sita and I's Vrindavana bat cave...so here's the behind-the-scenes. The format is messy but the first and third pictures are two scenes from a Vrindavana sunrise. Jaya Sita took these pictures on the roof of our building. The bottom picture shows our view of the temple- the three white spires piercing the purple sky. Once while chanting on the roof in the early morning, a bat the size of a seagull rammed right into her shoulder.



Above- Here's our snazzy modern kitchen. Notice the gas stove. All of you would be heartily impressed that I, the one who has been terrified of fire and gas since time immemorial, knows how to operate this stove. I even make boiled potatoes and ginger tea with it! Krishna is on the wall eating butter. That big water jug is what we use for our water supply every day. Whatever you do, just DON'T DRINK THE LEMONADE!!! ;)

Right: Can you see our rascal pet monkey?
I told Jaya Sita not to feed her capatis, but
she couldn't help herself with this cutie. After
this she stayed there making the loudest and
most annoyingly persistant "mew, mew"
noises, which I interpreted to mean "more,
more"for at least half and hour. I'm still
learning to forgive Jaya Sita. ;) Its hard to
deny she is actually pretty adorable, and so human in her manerisms. She even has perfect baby-sized fingernails.
This is our neon flourescent mosquito-net bat cave! Jaya Sita was hoisting her net up at night using her cello and a hanging computer cable as support. So classy, and effective! Mine is bright pink and hangs over my bed using old ropes and computer cables attached to four different spots all over the room. It drives me crazy all night because I get tangles up in my net, (it cost like 70 cents, so you know what you're getting). Anyhoo it's clearly better than malaria so bring it on!

Rupa Goswami's Mercy

I'm a dummy on the computer so please forgive me if this layout is terrible. All I can do is trial and error on here, so we will see how it turns out.
So this is Srila Rupa Goswami's beloved Ter Kadamba! Rupa Goswami was one of Lord Caitanya's principle disciples, and as Gaudiya Vaishavas (Hare Krishna's =)) we follow the teachings of Rupa Goswami and the other 5 Goswamis of Vrindavana with our life and soul. He appeared on this earth from 1489-1564CE, and resides in the spiritual world as Rupa Manjari, one of Radharani's closest assistants and gopi companions. On this day each year, like all other exalted Vaishnava's, we honor him on his disappearance day.


This is Vishal Prabhu, one of the devotees who works at the VIHE (our school). He was offering puja (worship) to the Deities and to Rupa Goswami.

I'm lighting ghee (clarified butter) candles all around the altar. They are contained in little clay cups, as are all the food offerings, which you can see further down. This scene was right out of the spiritual world. To find a more beautiful place could be my life's task...

Here's a nice painting of Srila Rupa Goswami. Lord Caitanya told Rupa: "The ocean of the transcendental mellows of devotional service is so large that no one can estimate its length and breadth. However, just to help you taste it, I am describing one drop." It is said that this one drop was enough to inundate millions upon millions of universes with ecstatic, pure love of God, called prema. With this drop he composed ingenuis works of intoxicating spiritual poetry and richly philophical texts. We just finished reading his book "The Nectar of Instruction" in class. It is a spectacular text outlining the gradual progression of a genuine spiritual seeker from the beginning stages of self realization to pure love of God, culminating in the service of the servants of Srimati Radharani on the banks of Radha Kunda, the sacred bathing lake of Radharani, considered to be the topmost, intimate place in the entire universal creation.

The trees here were stunning. They grow on extremely compact clay and curl upwards like beautiful black snakes. Their canopies drape the pillars and create a heavenly shade from sun and rain.

We spent hours singing bhajans written by Rupa Goswami. He was so intoxicated with love of God that he composed some of the most beautiful poetry imagineable. In my next post, I will include some of that poetry. My roommate Jaya Sita is there playing the cello. It always adds a beautiful classic touch to the traditional Indian sounds.

Here are three great friends sorting flower petals by color for the pushpa abhiseka we had later in the evening. Pushpa=flowers, abhisheka=bath. We bath the Deities in a variety of wonderful things like yogurt, milk, honey, perfumed water, and sometimes, like today, flowers! Sanna is in the foreground, she is my great friend from Finland. The other two ladies in the back are from Russia, and they are simply incredible Vaishnavis.

Here is a picture of the offering tray with flowers, fan, ghee candle, incense, etc. Next to it is a huge baskets of lotus flower petals and a bucket of sacred tulasi leaves. I am lighting the ghee candles in the background.

This is my wonderful friend Medharani. Her husband is my Bhagavad-gita teacher, Gurusevananda Prabhu. She is from Mayapur and has helped me with so many domestic musts! I've already learned how to do laundry on the bathroom floor and cook a 'brilliant' subji (veggie dish) that's out of this world. Aside from the domestic genuis she possesses, she is an extremely lovely girl to be around, and a true inspiration to me.

Here's a tiny taste of the offerings we made for the Deities in Ter Kadamba. More sweets than you can imagine!

The man in the center at the microphone is Dina Bandhu Prabhu. Here he is leading guru puja for Srila Rupa Goswami, which is a song to honor him as a spiritual teacher. He leads the most fabulous kirtans and parikrama's (pilgrimages) around Vrindavana. I went on my first parikrama with him the other evening, and I'll write about that soon. It was simply nectar. Notice the gorgeous limbs draping above their heads.

Just look at this!!! There is a cake the size of a coffee table here!! This cake was made by some Russian women, and let me tell you, it was simply outrageous. We took all the 108 offerings, with the exception of this larger than life cake, and transferred them into beautiful clay bowls, cups and pots to be offered. This was the ecstatic moment after the offering when we got to see everything on the altar. During the actual offering the altar is hidden by fresh saris which are held up length-wise. This is so we don't go crazy over the food before the Lord gets to enjoy it. =) Maha prasadam ki jaya!!!

Here's me on a hike in the forest behind the bhajan kutir. (Ter Kadamba was one of the main places where Rupa Goswami stayed and performed his bhajan (writing and other spritual activities) in Vrindavan. This is the meaning of "bhajan kutir."

There is so much more to post, but so little time. Hopefully I can do proper justice to this experience in the next couple of days. It was by far one of the most touching gatherings I have ever been to. All glories to Srila Rupa Goswami!

Pictures

Best party of my life, hands down.

Gopal Bhatta Goswami's Disappearance Day Festival: 8/1/2010

After class a group of 7 us went together to the Sri Radha Raman temple to celebrate the life of Gopal Bhatta Goswami. Knowing practically nothing about him, I was enthusiastic to go, but filled with little emotion regarding the importance of the occasion (stay posted for his life and pastimes with Radha Ramanji). We walked along the parikrama path for some time, but soon grabbed a motor-rickshaw. Needless to say the ride was quite an adventure. Our vital organs rattled endessly- twice I was sure I would fly right out to pay full dandavats in the Vrindavan mud. I could only laugh in disbelief, yes, this is transportation in Vrindavan. It looked like Jaya Sita's stomach barely made it. When we arrived I immediately got the feeling I was entering a huge party, a spiritual night club of sorts. There were Christmas lights hanging from the temple, huge crowds gathered, uproarious chanting pouring out from the courtyard. We all entered through the temple gates together- there was a two-man band sitting at the entrance playing some kind of tribal sounding drum and one of those cobra-charming instruments. It sounded like drum circle-meets-middle east, and I was reminded of Indiana Jones. After we walked into the temple room, we pretty unintentionally parted ways, swallowed whole by the Indian mob chanting and pushing super enthusiastically from all directions.
I must say one thing. These Indians know what it means to get down. They are serious about partying, they really, really are. Every age was there, every size, every disposition, every level of devotion. Some chanted as if they wanted their lungs to explode. Some were on the roof with huge cameras filming the scene. Some just stared with serious expressions. Small children were on their dancing fathers' shoulders, old ladies sat on the parameter walls, which were COVERED floor to ceiling with maha sweet offerings. I have never seen so many offerings in one place. There must have been hundreds of thousands of sweets.The curtains swung open, and there was the incredibly sweet Radha Raman- (Krishna, the One who gives pleasure to Radha), and where Radharani would be, is Her crown. I always love kirtan, and I always love darshan, but I felt a whole other level of connection with Radha Raman. He's so small but SO charming. He dances with you. He smiles at you. It's like He's at the center of the dance floor, of the universe, just inviting you to party with Him. I couldn't keep my eyes off His sweet face, until the prasadam started flying off the altar.
The moment the prasadam left the pujaris' hands and sailed through the air, a mosh pit formed. The littlest, oldest ladies and gentlemen began pushing like pro wrestlers. The looks on their faces, diverse with emotion, reminded me just how special these people are. Some were nearly crying, some were laughing, some very seriously praying, some just begging with arms wide open, everyone rushing together toward the pujaris: "GIVE ME THAT PRASADAM!!!" Their eyes said it all, they wanted all the mercy they could carry, and much more.
Jaya Sita and I were separated from the beginning. The rest of the group trickled out and the two of us were the only Westerner's left. She stood right at the edge of the altar, scrunched up at the foot of the Lord. I was directly in front of Radha Raman a few feet back. We caught glimpses of each other in our own experience with the deity and His devotees. We were both completely blown away with joy.
About an hour later, once the kirtan ended and some verse recitation began, we went outside to find Gopal Bhatta Goswami's samadhi. First, we ran into a giant vat of sweet spiced milk prasad. I filled up my water bottle. It was to die for. I was approached by a nice middle-aged Indian couple for some conversation. They asked me where I was from and how I like India. I love it here, it feels like home...
The man has family in California. He says its a nice country and everyone is fortunate to have the wealth that they do. But while comparing the two, he said Indians have spiritual and cultural values that hold them together. They take care of one another. He said,"Most people here are very, very poor." He held his hands tightly together, fingers interlocked. "But we are together. In America, people are alone. They are rich, but they are lonely."
I took this to be quite an interesting observation in the economics of happiness. The country rated happiest in the world is Bangladesh, which happens to be one of the poorest places on earth. No matter our capitalistic advantage, at the end of the day it depends on the values within us, on our mission, our life's goal. When we sacrifice spiritualism in a competitive march towards material success, there is no hope for genuine inner peace. This is the unforatunte situation in most of the world today.
The couple was from Kurukshetra (where Krishna spoke the Bhagavad-gita) and told Jaya Sita and I that their two American daughters were welcome to stay with them anytime. They invited us for dinner, but it was already after 10. We paid our respects and parted ways to find the samadhi. Such generous people.
Gopal Bhatta Goswami's samadhi is a serene enclosed structure. Surrounding his samadhi are many, many smaller one's. Kirtan players sat in front of the main altar, where a dreadlocked, aged babaji sat, serving Gopal Bhatta Goswami's murti and passing out carinamrita. We stayed for some time, circumambulating, chanting and praying for mercy from the Goswami.
I was so inspired by the evening I sought out a book about Gaudiya Vaishnava Samadhi's in Vrindavan. It's loaded with the greatest personalities and pastimes, and is such nectar! Jaya Sita bought the guide to Vrindavan's over 5,000 temples and holy places (competitively nectarean), so we're planning on going to some places from each book on our free Sundays.
Sri Radha Ramanji ki Jaya! All glories to Srila Gopal Bhatta Goswami!

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.