Last night I had a funny dream about an offensive woman who wanted to kidnap my Gour-Nitai by force, because I refused to trade Them with her like common currency. Initially, she introduced herself briefly as a friend of an acquaintance during a large festival in my community.
It was the first time we celebrated this particular festival in our community, so we publicized it largely in magazines, television advertisements, radio commercials, and so on. Consequentially, many people turned up, even devotees from other regions and countries. I personally set up a large tent, or pandal, on my landlord's empty plot of land. We decorated it with beautiful, fragrant flower garlands, banana trees, mango leaves, and fumigated it with aromatic, purifying herbs, cowdung, and incense. Inside the pandal, I drew an auspicious mandala of bright white alpona, atop which I installed a simple throne for Their Lordships, Sri Avadhuta Shiromani and Sri Mayapur Chandra. Dressed, ornamented, and adored, Their Lordships stood majestically on Their throne when suddenly the lone troublemaker appeared.
Before she could open her mouth, I already anticipated that she wanted me to give her something for nothing. Their Lordships laughed and teased me, repeatedly asking, "She wants something, will you give it to her? Will you give her whatever she asks? Such is the character of brahmins and sadhus; they give up even their most coveted treasure!" I grew irate with Gour Nitai and wondered why They were interacting with me in this way. They very rarely speak to me, even after constantly badgering Them, what to speak of dialogue and banter.
"Hare Krishna, Mataji. You don't know me but I'm friends with so-and-so." she said.
"So what?" I thought, "everyone knows each other around here, it won't earn you any favor."
"Our friend told me you have very large, beautiful deities, and she told me where you lived. I want to do parikrama during the festival with Gour Nitai. My deities are too small, though, and I want some big ones that way everyone can see. I'll trade you my little Gour Nitai for your big ones. You see, I'm doing pilgrimage so you should help me out, or I'll just take Them anyway."
She spoke with such audacity, as if she would get her way without any trouble at all. Assumptions do a great many things, and among those things, arousing my anger is really dangerous. I was more infuriated with her attitude about Their Lordships. She spoke as if they were some cheap commodity to be traded or borrowed like the neighbor's garden trowel.
"How dare you, you filthy whore! Who the hell do you think you are? You strut in here, like a dog in heat, peddling your wares like you own the damn place, and demand my Deities? I wouldn't dream of it! Do you think They are toys? Clothes? Huh? Or a knapsack you can throw away when you get tired of it? They are not your soiled undergarments, you two-legged beast! You don't deserve the arca-vigraha presence of the Lord, damned aparadhi! You should give up your Gour-Nitai to me before you make more offenses!"
I shouted all kinds of obscenities at her in English, Bengali, and Spanish, until I was red in the face and my rage was satiated. Meanwhile, the two munificent brothers, Gouranga and Nityananda, laughed, rolled on the ground, cried tears in hysteria, and spoke sarcastically, "That's a good one! I never heard that one before, Devi. Some virtuous saint you are indeed!"
I have the feeling that Their Lordships arranged the encounter with that filthy dog, disguised in Vaishnava attire, in order to pique my rage and wrath. Otherwise, rarely do we encounter these types of personalities, full of pride and offensive ideas.
It was the first time we celebrated this particular festival in our community, so we publicized it largely in magazines, television advertisements, radio commercials, and so on. Consequentially, many people turned up, even devotees from other regions and countries. I personally set up a large tent, or pandal, on my landlord's empty plot of land. We decorated it with beautiful, fragrant flower garlands, banana trees, mango leaves, and fumigated it with aromatic, purifying herbs, cowdung, and incense. Inside the pandal, I drew an auspicious mandala of bright white alpona, atop which I installed a simple throne for Their Lordships, Sri Avadhuta Shiromani and Sri Mayapur Chandra. Dressed, ornamented, and adored, Their Lordships stood majestically on Their throne when suddenly the lone troublemaker appeared.
Before she could open her mouth, I already anticipated that she wanted me to give her something for nothing. Their Lordships laughed and teased me, repeatedly asking, "She wants something, will you give it to her? Will you give her whatever she asks? Such is the character of brahmins and sadhus; they give up even their most coveted treasure!" I grew irate with Gour Nitai and wondered why They were interacting with me in this way. They very rarely speak to me, even after constantly badgering Them, what to speak of dialogue and banter.
"Hare Krishna, Mataji. You don't know me but I'm friends with so-and-so." she said.
"So what?" I thought, "everyone knows each other around here, it won't earn you any favor."
"Our friend told me you have very large, beautiful deities, and she told me where you lived. I want to do parikrama during the festival with Gour Nitai. My deities are too small, though, and I want some big ones that way everyone can see. I'll trade you my little Gour Nitai for your big ones. You see, I'm doing pilgrimage so you should help me out, or I'll just take Them anyway."
She spoke with such audacity, as if she would get her way without any trouble at all. Assumptions do a great many things, and among those things, arousing my anger is really dangerous. I was more infuriated with her attitude about Their Lordships. She spoke as if they were some cheap commodity to be traded or borrowed like the neighbor's garden trowel.
"How dare you, you filthy whore! Who the hell do you think you are? You strut in here, like a dog in heat, peddling your wares like you own the damn place, and demand my Deities? I wouldn't dream of it! Do you think They are toys? Clothes? Huh? Or a knapsack you can throw away when you get tired of it? They are not your soiled undergarments, you two-legged beast! You don't deserve the arca-vigraha presence of the Lord, damned aparadhi! You should give up your Gour-Nitai to me before you make more offenses!"
I shouted all kinds of obscenities at her in English, Bengali, and Spanish, until I was red in the face and my rage was satiated. Meanwhile, the two munificent brothers, Gouranga and Nityananda, laughed, rolled on the ground, cried tears in hysteria, and spoke sarcastically, "That's a good one! I never heard that one before, Devi. Some virtuous saint you are indeed!"
I have the feeling that Their Lordships arranged the encounter with that filthy dog, disguised in Vaishnava attire, in order to pique my rage and wrath. Otherwise, rarely do we encounter these types of personalities, full of pride and offensive ideas.
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