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VOLUME SEVEN
Diary of a
Traveling Preacher Volume 7 - Chapter 5 "Such Mercy"
India 17/03/06 -
31/04/06
face=Verdana size=2>After my visit to Mexico in mid-March,
I went on a whirlwind preaching tour of the temples in the United
States until the end of April. I kept a record of the programs I did
in those six weeks, and I was surprised to see they totaled over
100.
I must have done thousands of such programs throughout
my career as a traveling preacher, and as I thought about my 57th
birthday, just weeks away, I smiled. "Physically, the tour been
exhausting," I thought, "but spiritually, I'm more enlivened than
ever."
ayur harati vai pumsam udyann astam ca yann
asau tasyarte yat-ksano nita uttama-loka-vartaya
"Both
by rising and by setting, the sun decreases the duration of life of
everyone, except one who utilizes the time by discussing topics of
the all-good Personality of Godhead."
[Srimad-Bhagavatam
2.3.17]
In San Diego, on one of the last days of the tour, I
visited the home of Guru Gauranga dasa, the sponsor of my festival
program on the island of Mauritius. We made plans for the program
and decided that we would hold it in April next year.
When I
looked at his altar, I was taken by the beauty of the only Deity
present, a salagrama-sila. Having worshiped salagrama-silas for
years, I immediately saw that this Deity was special. He was small,
perfectly round, smooth, and shiny. I remembered a verse from the
Padma-purana, where Lord Visnu tells Brahma that smaller salagramas
give the most auspicious results:
"O Brahma, in that sila,
small like an amalaki fruit, I remain eternally with My divine
consort, Srimati Laksmidevi."
I looked closer. The salagrama
had a beautifully formed mouth exactly in front. "A most auspicious
cakra," I said aloud.
"He has a small flat surface on the
bottom too," said Guru Gauranga.
I shook my head in
amazement. "He's the perfect salagrama," I said, "the kind sought by
every pious brahmana in ancient India. Many temples in India would
give lacs of rupees for such a sila. Where in the world did you get
Him?"
"It's a long story," Guru Gauranga replied. "If you
have the time, I'll tell you."
I smiled and sat down. "What
better way to spend our time?" I said.
"In 1992," he said, "I
was serving in Mayapura as a young brahmacari, when word came that
the devotees in Bangladesh needed brahmacaris for a traveling
festival program. At first I hesitated because Bangladesh is a
Muslim country, but local devotees told me that there are hundreds
of thousands of Vaisnavas in Bangladesh, many of whom regularly
attend our programs, so I stepped forward.
"For several
months we traveled throughout the country holding outdoor festivals
in the villages, and sometimes as many as twenty thousand people
would attend. In many places the locals had never seen white-skinned
Westerners. The Muslims left us alone, and the Vaisnavas thronged to
our programs.
"One night in a remote jungle village in the
north, we had a late finish to our program. Along with the other
bhramacaris, I lay down exhausted on the floor of the large pandal,
but I had trouble sleeping because of the heat, the humidity, and
the mosquitoes. I stood up and leaned against the wall of the tent.
A young man dressed in a saffron-colored dhoti came up to me and
asked why I wasn't sleeping. I told him of my difficulties, and he
offered to take me to an asrama where he lived, further into the
jungle. 'You'll sleep peacefully there,' he said.
"After an
hour and a half of walking, I began to feel concerned, as we had
still not reached our destination. Suddenly we came to a clearing
where I saw fifteen large mud-brick huts, and nearby, a large stone
temple. Judging from its appearance, the temple was very
old.
"The young man took me to one of the huts. 'Please sleep
here,' he said. 'The mosquitoes won't bite you. We burn a
special wood inside to keep them away.'
"Within minutes I was
sound asleep.
"I awoke in the morning, just as the sun was
rising. I looked out the window and saw a beautiful scene of
antiquity.
Young brahmacari monks sitting on the banks of a
nearby river were softly chanting on their japa beads. Beautiful
Vaisnava tilaka adorned their bodies, and their saffron clothes
rivaled the beauty of the sunrise. From the temple I could hear
people singing a familiar bhajan, Lalasamayi-Prarthana by Narottam
das Thakur.
"Several brahmacaris came and took me to the
river to bathe. As we walked, we passed the kitchen, and I could
smell the cow-dung fires cooking breakfast. While I bathed, the
brahmacaris sat nearby and chanted japa. "I looked around. 'This is
what life must have been in devotional asramas hundreds of years
ago,' I thought, 'when young male students lived and studied with
their Vaisnava gurus.'
"I wondered why no guru was
present.
" 'How long will you stay with us?' one of the boys
asked as we walked towards the temple.
" 'Just a few more
hours,' I replied, 'but I'd like to stay forever.'
"When we
reached the temple, we entered and paid obeisances, but when I stood
up, I was surprised to see there was no altar, only four decorated
walls.
"Where are the Deities?" I asked.
"The boys
smiled. 'Be patient,' said one of them, 'and you'll soon see the
most beautiful Deities.'
" 'And famous,' said
another.
" 'Famous?' I said. 'Here in the middle of the
jungle?'
"Suddenly a conch shell blew, and one of the giant
walls slid open to reveal a beautiful marble altar. An intricately
carved silver srngasana towered over graceful Radha-Krsna Deities. I
couldn't believe my eyes. I simply stood there.
" 'The altar
is hidden to protect the Deities from Muslim attacks,' said one of
the young men. 'They've remained safe like this for five hundred
years.'
" 'Five hundred years!' I said. I moved in closer to
get a better look.
"Krsna was made of black stone, and
Radharani of brass. I could see they were indeed very old Deities.
Near Krsna's feet I noticed a silver srngasana, with three beautiful
salagrama-silas. Then - I don't know what made me do it, perhaps the
excitement of the moment - I blurted out, 'Can I have one of those
salagrama-silas?'
"The brahmacaris turned to me with looks of
astonishment.
"I mumbled something about a long-cherished
desire to worship a salagrama-sila, but they remained silent, taken
aback by my outburst.
" 'Well,' said one, 'you can ask our
guru. He wants see you after breakfast.'
" 'Where is he now?'
I said.
" 'He's finishing his one lac of japa,' said another
boy.
" 'One lac of japa before breakfast!' I
exclaimed.
"After breakfast, one of the older brahmacaris
took me to a small hut not far from the temple.
" 'Does the
guru have many disciples?' I asked as we walked.
" 'More than
5,000,' he replied.
" 'How old is he?' I said.
"
'Ninety-two,' he said.
" 'He must have traveled a lot,' I
said.
" 'Actually,' said the brahmacari, 'he's never left
this village. It's one reason he's eager to meet you. He often
quotes the prediction of Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu mentioned in
Caitanya-Bhagavata.'
"prthivite ache yata nagaradi
grama sarvatra pracara haibe mora nama
"In as many towns
and villages as there are on the surface of the earth, My holy name
will be preached."
[Chaitanya-Bhagavat, Antya 4, text
126]
" 'You know,' said the brahmacari, 'several times I've
seen him shed tears as he talked about how the mercy of Lord
Caitanya will one day leave India and flood the world with love of
God. This morning, when we told him a Westerner dressed as a
Vaisnava had arrived, he became very excited. I will translate for
you when you meet him.'
As we entered the hut, I saw the
guru, dressed only in a loincloth, sitting absorbed in chanting his
japa. He opened his eyes and looked at me. 'So, it is true,' he said
slowly.
"I paid my obeisances, and when I got up he called me
to go near him. His disciples had told him of the program in the
nearby village, and he asked a few questions about it. He paused for
a moment.
" 'Who has done this service for Mahaprabhu?' he
said. 'Who has introduced you Western boys and girls to the chanting
of the holy names?'
" 'His Divine Grace A.C. Bhaktivedanta
Swami Prabhupada,' I said proudly.
'He went to the West from
India and gave us the chanting of Hare Krishna.'
" 'Please
tell me more,' he said.
"For over an hour he listened
intently as I told him about Srila Prabhupada's life: his childhood
and youth, his meetings with Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati, his
attempts to preach in India, and his eventual journey to the West.
Several times the guru's eyes welled up with tears.
"At the
end he shook his head. 'It was my great misfortune not to have met
him, the person who fulfilled the prediction of Mahaprabhu. I can
only offer him my dandavats.'
"He placed his folded hands
above his head, and recited prayers for a long time. Then he turned
to me. 'You have asked for one of our salagrama-silas?' he
said.
"I was surprised. 'Yes,' I said, 'I did.' From the
corner of my eye, I saw several brahmacaris looking intently at
their guru.
" 'I will think about it,' he said. The
brahamacaris' eyes opened wide.
" 'You must know the history
of those Deities,' he said. 'It is written in our temple records.
Five hundred years ago, my forefathers were sevaites [priests] in
the temple of Gopal Bhatta Goswami in Vrindavan. Goswami engaged
several families in the service of his beloved Deity, Radha-Raman.
Do you know the history of Radha-Raman?'
" 'Yes, I do,' I
replied. 'He is self-manifested from one of the salagrama-silas that
Gopal Bhatta Goswami found in the Kali Gandaki River in
Nepal.'
"The guru nodded his head. He seemed pleased that I
knew the pastime. 'In my family line,' he said, 'there were three
brothers helping with that puja. One day in 1498 [1576 on the
Western calendar], Gopal Bhatta Goswami asked them to come here, to
what was formerly East Bengal but is now Bangladesh, to spread the
teachings of Mahaprabhu.
" 'It was a great challenge, as the
journey was long and dangerous and they would be on their own
preaching Gauranga's message. What's more, he knew they would
experience intense separation from Radha-Raman and from him himself,
and also from Raghunatha Bhatta Goswami and Jiva Goswami, who were
still living. So on the day of their departure, Gopal Bhatta Goswami
called all of the brothers, and in the presence of Radha-Raman gave
each of them a salagrama-sila. These are the three salagrama-silas
you see on our altar.'
"He stopped talking and with closed
eyes returned to chanting on his beads. I paid my obeisances and
with the other brahmacaris left his quarters.
"I went and sat
alone on the bank of the river, thinking about everything that was
happening. I felt fortunate to have come to that peaceful asrama and
met the guru and his disciples, but I felt embarrassed to have asked
for such a special Deity.
"After a while I began wondering if
it was all really true. I had never read that Gopal Bhatta Goswami
had sent preachers out to spread Lord Caitanya's message. 'But then
again,' I thought, 'it's certainly possible. Little is actually
recorded about those historic times.'
"I thought about a
verse from the Bible I'd learned as a boy: 'And there are also many
other things which Jesus did, the which, if they should be written
every one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain
the books that should be written.' [John 21:25]
"Then I
thought about that gentle sadhu. He seemed the repository of all
good qualities, and I felt ashamed that I might doubt his
truthfulness.
"I finally concluded that I did believe him,
but thought there was no chance he'd give me one of those historic
salagrama-silas.
"Suddenly I looked at my watch. 'Oh no!' I
thought. 'I'm late. It's almost noon. I have to get back. The
devotees must be wondering where I am.'
"At that moment one
of the brahmacaris came running.
" 'Guru Maharaja wants to
see you!' he said breathlessly.
"We walked to the temple,
entered, and paid our obeisances. The guru was sitting in front of
the altar chanting softly on his beads, eyes
closed.
"Although he must have known we'd come in, he didn't
immediately acknowledge our presence. He remained absorbed in
chanting Hare Krsna. After some time he opened his eyes and looked
at me.
" 'I have decided to give you one of the salagramas,'
he said.
"My heart was pounding.
" 'I feel that
Mahaprabhu will be pleased that such a Deity is being worshiped by a
Vaisnava from the West,' he said. 'It was His desire that His names
be chanted in every town and village of the world. I have one
request, however. Pray to that great acarya who delivered your
people to kindly put the dust of his feet upon my head.'
"He
motioned to one of the brahmacaris to take one of the salagramas
from the altar. The boy sipped acamana from a small cup, went on the
altar, and picked up the salagrama in the center. The brahmacari
came back down, and the guru took the salagrama in the palm of his
hand, looking at the sila affectionately for a long time. Then he
touched the salagrama to his head, put some tulasi leaves and
flowers around Him, and slowly placed Him in my trembling
hands.
"Still trying to fathom my good fortune, I paid
obeisances and tried to express my appreciation. But that saintly
person had already closed his eyes and again returned to his
chanting. I paid my obeisances one last time and left the
temple.
"As I stepped outside I heard my name being called.
'Guru Gauranga! Guru Gauranga! Where are you?'
"It was a
devotee from the festival who had come looking for me.
"I'm
here," I called out.
" 'You're in big trouble,' he said.
'Everyone's been looking for you.'
"We walked quickly back to
the village where we'd held the festival and left shortly
thereafter.
"That was 14 years ago," Guru Gauranga
said.
I sat spellbound. I had not moved an inch the entire
time.
"Such mercy!" I said, gazing at the salagrama, which
somehow seemed infinitely more beautiful than before.
"Yes,"
Guru Gauranga said, "and mercy is something that should always be
shared."
It was more the way he said it than what he said
that made me look up.
"Actually" he said, "I've been
discussing with my wife how I've become so involved in my business
nowadays that I hardly have time for puja. You know I've promised to
help finance your festival program in Mauritius. On top of that,
I've recently helped my own spiritual master, Bhakti Charu Maharaja,
with the construction of his new temple in Ujjain. As a result, I've
been working day and night.
He paused. "So we decided to ask
you if you would take the Deity and worship Him."
I looked at
the salagrama. My mind was racing. "He was offered in service by the
lotus hand of one of the Six Goswamis," I thought. "What an honor it
would be!"
Absorbed in my thoughts, I heard Guru Gauranga say
in the background. "So will you accept Him?"
My meditation
broke. "Yes," I said, "of course. Thank you. What can I
say?
I'll worship Him with all the love and devotion I
can."
He handed me the Deity, and we talked about the details
of his worship. Then I left for another appointment. As I drove
through the suburbs of San Diego, I was now the one trying to fathom
my good fortune.
"I can hardly believe it," I thought. "What
a wonderful conclusion to my preaching tour in America!"
I
prayed to become a worthy recipient of the mercy I'd just received.
I had a most wonderful incentive now: a Deity given twice over for
the purpose of inspiring a preacher in his service to Lord Caitanya
and the Six Goswamis of Vrindavan.
krsnokirtana gana nartana
parau premamrtambho nidhhi dhiradhira jana priyau priya karau
nirmatsarau pujitau sri caitanya krpa bharau bhuvi bhuvo
bharavahantarakau vande rupa sanatanau raghu yugau sri jiva
gopalakau
"I offer my respectful obeisance to the six
Goswamis, namely Sri Rupa Goswami, Sri Sanatana Goswami, Sri
Raghunatha Bhatta Goswami, Sri Raghunatha das Goswami, Sri Jiva
Goswami, and Sri Gopala Bhatta Goswami, who are always engaged in
chanting the holy names and dancing. They are just like the ocean of
love of God, and they are popular both with the gentle and the
ruffians, because they are never envious of anyone. Whatever they
do, they are all-pleasing to everyone, and they are fully blessed by
Lord Caitanya. Thus they are engaged in missionary activities meant
to deliver all the conditioned souls in the material
universe."
[Sri Sad Goswami-astaka, Srinivasa Acaraya, Verse
1]
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