The Violin Story

This story takes place during my fourth grade year at H. S. Thompson Learning Center. I'm excited that I get to tell you this story because I've only shared this story with one person.... and I don't think it counts because that person was my therapist. So, this is the first time I've ever shared this story and its profound significance with anyone. Wow.
Alright, let me set the scene because this story takes place in an old, smelly portable behind our school. The floors squeaked and creaked and the air conditioning never worked and you had sweaty bodies smelling up the poor place and it always seemed bewilderingly fragile like a really strong gust of wind could bring it all crashing down. Well, you should know that this particular portable was no ordinary place, despite the health and hazardous code violations; it transported us to a magical realm.
I should also introduce you to Ms. Waites, who is the protagonist of this tale; though it's my story, she's the real heroine. Ms. Waites was my violin teacher, Strings director, a talented violinist, an inspirational teacher and all around well-rounded, colorful human being full of love and light.
I met Ms. Waites in Art class with Ms. Packard; she was going around signing up students for strings classes. As you may know, I sprung from the womb with my life's missions etched into my soul so I knew from the moment I saw Ms. Waites that this woman would change my life. I leaped at the opportunity to sign up and asked her a dozen questions on the spot. She went for it.
Okay, here's where things travel into a gray area in my character. When I asked my mother if I could play an instrument, she didn't want to be bothered either because I was generally a very demanding child and asked too damn many questions (nagged the hell out of her) or she didn't understand that the course and material was free. Instead of bothering myself with trying to convince my mother to sign the form, I decided to take an expedited route. Also, I knew that I probably lacked the innate persuasive abilities as a young child so I didn't even try. Who understands the reasoning and logic of a child? Who cares?
After assessing the risk involved, I decided that no life force on the face of this planet was capable of stealing this opportunity from me so I went ahead and forged my mom's signature, filled in all the necessary paper work and returned the forms to my new favorite teacher, Ms. Waites. How in the world Ms. Waites accepted it at face value is beyond me but I imagine she looked the other way due to my zeal. Maybe she was desperate for students? Who cares?
This is the best part of the story..
The day comes to get our instrument assignments and, of course, I draw the short straw of the lot. Everyone else had taken Strings before so they knew which instruments were in disrepair and they called dibs on the good ones. I was too slow, naive, and inexperienced to understand the ways of humans so I took the instrument handed to me with wide eyes and a smile. The other kids took it upon themselves to inform me of my violin's condition. I mean, they made damn sure that I knew it was a pile of junk. I was upset and Ms. Waites could tell somehow. Maybe it was my fanciful display of a temper tantrum that tipped her off... I don't know. Who cares?
Ms. Waites instinctively knew, as all great instructors do, what to tell me in order to inspire me. She appealed to my sense of work ethic, pride, and ego with just a phrase. Intuitively she said, "Melissa, if you can make this instrument sing, you can make anything sing." and with that I was pacified and determined in my mission. I told myself that day, "If anyone can make this instrument sing, it will be me." and that's been my motto since childhood. I rely strongly on my own skill and ability, not the instruments, and from that day forward that expression has been like a mantra that I whisper to myself daily.
Its important for us to remember that our tools will only take us so far in life. We must rely on our talents, skills and technical ability to carry us through the task at hand.
 :)

Intimate Notes

Yesterday I performed the Bach Violin Concerto in A minor, Allegro movement for recital. It was the best performance I've done of the Bach so far, and I'm not finished polishing it yet, so I have good reason to believe it could be even better next month. I'm really satisfied with it because I put my best foot forward and gave it my best effort. What more can I ask for? The Lord has been merciful and blessed me with ample gifts; I am only now starting to fully understand and appreciate them.
Sometimes I write things I intend for the whole world to read, and other times I write things I never intend for anyone to read. I don't know why I felt compelled to share these notes today because I've held on to them closely with every intention of keeping them hidden and taking them to the grave. In reality they are notes written only for my own eyes but I'm sharing them in hopes that someone can appreciate them.

A Love Note to the Heart:
Babe, I know you feel alone, down, and worried. I know you want things that you can't have and have received what you never wanted, but just live with it! Tolerate the desire and hang on, girl. I know it feels like you're lost and on the wrong path, but there's a reason the Lord has taken it all away and given all this to you instead! This is your path; you walk alone but always, forever, and eternally in the company and presence of the Lord.


An Apology in Earnest:
I want to first thank you for your attention and compliment.  I also want to acknowledge, respect and appreciate you for taking a moment of your time to acknowledge me. I should also apologize, however, because I did not acknowledge, respect, appreciate, or reciprocate in that moment. I even ignored and avoided you out of fear of being discovered. I don't want you to think I'm callous, self-involved, and vain (though it is so) because I failed to acknowledge your presence. I need you to know that I intentionally ignored and avoided you because I was afraid that others would see just how much I truly relish your attention. For that I am truly sorry. Please know that I don't want anyone to know where my heart lies. Like a precious treasure, I keep my heart heavily guarded so that others may not plunder it. Please understand.
Apnar kinkar~

Ronald Reagan

When I Answered “Ronald Reagan”
Melissa Cruz

I
I guess you would not understand
If I were to tell you plainly, I was dreaming,
Daydreaming, imagining, fantasizing
When I answered “Ronald Reagan”
I can tell you here without import,
Without repercussion knowing
It is never going to happen.

II
I wandered over beside your cheek
And inhaled the scent of your breath,
Hair and the wafting echo of your sensuous desire.
I could not possibly tell you this in class.
Certainly not or it would have been my ass.
Did you sense my caressing touch upon your neck
Meandering down across your torso
Absorbing every detail of your flesh
As I gazed deeply into your eyes?
I told myself I had to stop.

III
While I rushed through your dumb questions,
I delved into another fantasy propounding
All the inner secrets of your loving, tender, soft embrace.
I could not tell you this in class….
I gazed over at your desk as you checked on all the rest
And imagined; I could kiss and bite your tempting flesh
While you made every single effort to withstand
My increasingly aggressive, mounting, erotic wander.
Oh! But you would not glance over at me,
For if you had, you would have seen
The visage of a hungering, thirsting, insatiable beast
Craving every drop, every bite, every delicious taste of you.

IV
I imagine you would have resisted
Had I grabbed and fed upon you as I wished it.
And if you did, I would have told you
“Resistance is futile, weak fool!”
Certainly, I could not tell you this in class.
Well I could, but your ass’d be grass.
Oh! But how I wish I had.
For if I had, you would lose sleep, tormented,
Unable to imagine the depths to which I dived
Within the short span of a stupid quiz.
Don’t you wish you had not asked?
With every utterance, I gain strength and become more daring.
Surely, you must agree it is a small miracle
I answered only one question wrong.

V
Now you know how much I want you,
And long to feel, and taste, and be with you.
Now I have admitted all my secret thoughts,
And grown accustomed to the throbbing,
Crushing, overwhelming sexual hunger.
Now I have cleared the air and my lusty mind.
Now I have released my intense yearning
Into the vast cosmic manifestation.
Having no other purpose,
This poem has accomplished
The inconceivable, insurmountable, volatile task
Of explaining what the fuck I was thinking
When I answered “Ronald Reagan”

Sacred Moments

The other day I smiled. I sat and smiled for no reason at all. I sat and smiled for the first time in what seems like an era. I could not help but gaze over at you and notice that you were also glancing at me. We smiled together. I felt immense joy and my heart was alight. We both conserved our joy within, but I saw it. I saw it! You tried to hold it in but the faintest glimmer of an ecstatic holler painted your beautiful face. I thank you. I thank you repeatedly. You have sent me plummeting through the darkest depths of the ether. You have sent me bounding into the brightest light of the moon. I cannot look back. I shall not look back. Every moment is sacred.

No Apologies

I just had the most beautiful dream about forgiveness, Vaishnava humility, jealousy and false pride. It involved many devotees from the temple here in Dallas so I won't name everyone. Simply said, they were persons who I felt were responsible for making me feel unwelcome or excluded from temple festivals and the exclusive clique within the social hierarchy.

It all started when a sannyasi came to Dallas and we all traveled to a place near the ocean for a special festival. Many of us were playing water sports on sandbars and small islands where the water was shallow and placid. Most of the girls kept on their saris in the water so a devotee (in charge of the festival) let them borrow her skirts, saris and petticoats during the games. She approached me last to retrieve her clothing but I declined to return anything as she hadn't let me borrow anything in the first place. She insisted that I took her petticoat and a garment and I became increasingly frustrated with her.

I had invited my close friend, Ramon, to the colorful and vibrant celebration but did't expect him to attend. It was late in the festival hours and in his typical and usual fashion, he arrived unexpectedly and stole the ball. The devotee guests didn't expect to see a non-devotee within their midst and they were taken in by his cultured charm. He played games with everyone and chess with the sannyasi guest-of-honor and spoke at length with many doe-eyed gopi youth. At some point, the girls fought each other off for an opportunity to converse with Ramon. I wondered if they knew he was already taken, and gay. All the while, I stood nonchalantly and watched the big fuss from a distance. Though he was my invited guest and closest friend, I hardly had a chance to speak with him because all our movements were highly coordinated and controlled by the director of the festival. My assignment was to look beautifully poised in an incredibly gaudy and tacky sari, outside and far away from the real party.  

Breaking with accepted decorum, I took my friend by the hand away and excused ourselves from his company. "Listen, Ramon, I'm not going to beat around the bush with you because we're close friends. I'll be straight forward with you in hopes you'll be understanding." I asked him to no longer speak to any of those girls and spend the entire evening with me. If he could not agree to abstain from socializing at the party, I requested him to leave. The other devotee guests became disturbed after overhearing my proposition. Though Ramon and I had left the room, a few of them were eavesdropping on our conversation at the doorway. I was painfully aware of that situation, however, I was not aware that our sannyasi guest was resting quietly in his private room, assigned solely to him by our ever-competent festival director. 

Maharaj, hearing my selfish plea and perplexed by my actions, asked, "What's going on? You invited him to the festival and now you're asking him to leave?" I said to the sannyasi, "Please understand my reasons and do not judge me without hearing my side of the situation. I will humbly submit my case before you and after hearing carefully, you can judge me with a fair and balanced mind." Maharaj made a grand gesture and beckoned inside to hear 'Madri's side of the story'. I calmly retreated into my mind and quickly made my case.

"I know my friend is talented, charming, and social-able  I was so myself in my youth. That is why I admired him and we became instant friends. Though I'm  young, I feel old and worn out now. Nobody seeks out my company at parties anymore; no, in fact, no one even invites me to their parties. The fact that I'm standing here is testament to this: I was assigned to mingle outside near the ocean and add to the spectacular view." I looked down at my hideous sari and posed mockingly. Maharaj laughed hysterically and some guests snickered under their breath.

 "Maybe there was a hint of jealousy in my actions, I admit, but honestly who wouldn't feel the same? My friend suddenly shows up after years of not seeing him and they snatch him away from me. Then, I have to fight everyone off just to spend a moment alone with him! Wouldn't you be upset? The same people that treat me like I don't even exist! Everyone here has been mean and hurtful to me in the past and when I offer my sincere apologies and try to mend relationships with them, they turn up their noses at me.."  as I began to open up my heart, I  felt tears begin to form and I was becoming more emotional. "Excuse me, Maharaj."  I stopped in the middle of my speech, sat down in padmasana and performed a pranayam to calm the breath as Maharaj watched. 

I slowed down my heart and breath before I continued, "While apologizing, I usually become extremely upset to tears.  Seeing my vulnerability, or weakness, they harvest upon that opportunity to become more aggressive and accusational toward me instead of offering their forgiveness. So, if you expect me to apologize to these people, you'll be sadly disappointed because I believe in apologies." Maharaj there shocked and dismayed at my statements. Every one in the room remained silent and no one dared move an inch. The room was frozen in time and some individuals were touched by my words.

 "Rather than apologize to someone, Vaishnava or otherwise, I humbly submit myself before the Lord and beg His forgiveness as He knows the whole situation." I knelt down and prayed with folded hands, 'Kshama koro, Prabhu. Amar khama koro! I know I am full of fault but I rather stake my head with You. Please forgive me for being obstinate ' tears flowed freely from my eyes as I felt uninhibited even within a crowd. 

"While we call ourselves Vaishnavas, our behaviour is far from it. If you think I'm being too harsh, you have to only know my mistreatment in the past to understand why. An intelligent person doesn't repeat his mistakes after reaping the consequences. With that realization in mind, I respectfully decline to apologize and submit that my position is correct."

After hearing those words, many devotees appeared somberly aware of their wrongdoings to each other and apologized sincerely to one another. Many had tears in their eyes as they embraced and others just stood quietly, unable to render their thoughts to one another. After breaking up the gathering, Maharaj spoke with me and Ramon in private. We had a good laugh and discussed our many talents and interests: music, theatre, crafts, chess, culture and foreign language. Toward the evening, I received many thanks and apologies from devotees including--gasp-- our dictator, the festival director herself. She wanted to personally select and buy me a nice sari as a token of her appreciation.

If I don't let you in...

If I don't let you in....


it's not because I don't like you.
it's not because I don't trust you.
it's not because I don't respect you.
it's not because I don't want your friendship
it's not because you're not worth my time.
it's not because I think I could do better.
it's not because I think you're beneath me.
it's not because I think it's waste of energy.


It's all of the above. 



I don't like you. 
I don't trust you. 
I don't respect you. 
I don't want your friendship because
You're not worth my time.
I could do much better.
You're beneath me and
a waste of energy. 


 I bet you guys thought I was going to say some idiotic pseudo-inspirational, "It's not you it's me/I'm afraid of showing you the real me." self-conscious, emo-bull. Well, no, as a matter of fact I'm in the mood for validating my reasons and genuine feelings. So, in that sense I guess it is a little 'emo'. In all seriousness, though, I don't have time for certain things lately. I've cut back on a lot of indulgences and honestly, I didn't think I'd be able to sacrifice so much. I have a desire to serve more, read and write my devotional feelings. Krishna Consciousness is hard. Really. You have to push yourself constantly or you don't grow. You fall stagnant and lazy and dull. DULL. I heard someone say once that the body can endure all kinds of conditions, you just have to push yourself. It's a matter of conquering the mind and I believe Krishna Consciousness is exactly the same. We don't push ourselves. We're lazy and dull-headed. Some even more than others.
I don't mind if you share this rant but please link back to my blog. Busy day today, that's all I have time for this entry. Sorry, everyone, I haven't been keeping up with the blog and I apologize sincerely. I will try and transfer some of my personal journal entries into the blog so you know what I've been thinking and writing lately. They're mostly prayers and stuff like that but it's appropriate for this blog so I'll go ahead and bring it in. Hare Krishna, yo.

Behaviour of a Disciple

I read this article from BCS Istagosthi and I wanted to share it with others because it really says everything I feel from my heart but can not explain to others. Sometimes people tell me that I'm just introverted and introspective so therefore it is hard for me to make friends with people, even devotees or aspiring devotees as they may be and that somehow is the root of my depression. I know, however, that I'm not "just depressed" my problems are so easily sorted out, telling me that I'm just lonely and depressed doesn't address the actual issue. The only place they make sense is in my heart and mind, when I try to manifest those emotions into words, I feel choked or suffocated, stifled. Still, my heart feels a void, my dreams are unfulfilled and I know its because I have not actually pleased my spiritual master. Hopefully I can move forward from here and with the help and guidance of Sri Guru from within the heart, I will one day achieve my goal of satisfying my Guru and therefore my heart will also be at ease.

In Hari-bhakti-vilasa, verse 2.147, Srila Sanatan Goswami quotes
Sammohana-tantra:

gopayed devatam istam gopayed gurum atmanah
gopayec ca nijam mantram gopayen nija-malikam

One should hide one's ista-deva, one should hide one's guru, one should hide one's mantra, and one should hide one's japa-mala.

Wise persons keep their valuables in a confidential place. Similarly, an intelligent sadhaka does not advertise his or her guru, nor do they broadcast themselves as disciples of their guru. Considering themselves as low, fallen, and unfit to be considered disciples, sincere devotees do not want to advertise who their guru is.

Srila Thakur Bhaktivinode has described that there are two types of disciples, the antarmukha-sisyas and the bahirmukha-sisyas. Antarmukha literally means "inward-facing". It refers to someone who is introspective. Bahirmukha literally means "outward-facing", and refers to someone who is absorbed in external things.

Antarmukha-sisyas are desirous of bringing pleasure to their guru. Their focus is on following the guru's instructions. The antarmukha-sisyas practice gopayed gurum atmanah. They keep their guru and their relationship with him confidential. An antarmukha-sisya is not interested in advertising himself as a disciple of his guru, but prefers to follow the guru's instructions. His meditation is to try to understand what will please his guru. The antarmukha-sisya is anartha-mukta-avastha, he is free from anarthas. His vision of guru is known as sevya-darsana. He sees that guru should be served and pleased.

Bahirmukha-sisyas are disciples who practice the opposite of gopayed gurum atmanah. They are absorbed in advertising their guru and in making a show of themselves as being big or intimate disciples. Such a disciple is also known as guru-giri, or one who makes a business out of guru and one's relationship with guru. They are not absorbed in the inner intention of guru. Srila
Bhaktivinode Thakur has described persons who act on such an external platform as dharmadhvajis ("religion flag-wavers"), meaning those who make a hypocritical or pretentious show of religiosity.

Following the logic of atmavan manyate jagat (everyone thinks like I do), the bahirmukha-sisyas consider that their guru thinks like they do. Because they are motivated by the desires for fame and adoration they think that their guru also wants such things. The bahirmukha-sisyas are
anartha-yukta-avastha, they have anarthas, material desires, in their hearts. Because of those anarthas they only see guru in terms of their own pleasure. This vision is known as bhogya-darsana. They think that making a big show of devotion will impress their guru and enable them to come close to their guru. Their idea of guru-bhakti is to loudly proclaim to the world,
amar guru jagad-guru - "My guru is the best or the only one and any other guru is lesser." They think that such publicizing will please their guru.

For some devotees, pushing their guru is an easy way to avoid facing the reality of their own lack of advancement. They want respect, and they think it is easier for them to get it by broadcasting themselves as a disciple of a great personality than for themselves to manifest the qualities of a
vaisnava. However, this kind of cheating mentality will never attract the attention of saintly persons. They are not impressed with whom we have taken initiation or instructions from. Rather, they want to see what is our own level of realization.

Since such neophytes equate the showing of respect to themselves with the showing of respect to their guru, when they become chastised or fail to receive the honor and recognition they want, they accuse the devotees, "You have offended my guru!" In this way, Kali, the personification of this age of quarrel and hypocrisy, is able to enter the movement of Sri Chaitanya
Mahaprabhu and cause dissension, distracting them from their real business of chanting and distributing the holy names.

So Srila Sanatan Goswami's instruction gopayed gurum atmanah - "One should hide one's guru" - is advising devotees to go deeper in their relationship with guru by basing that relationship on following the instructions about service and bhajan that their guru has given.

Abusive Teen Relationships

Today I watched the Tyra Banks show and realised how desperately Tyra is trying to make her show a serious talk-show the likes of Oprah। The topic was abusive teenage relationships, and the first couple on the show infuriated me so much, I wondered if there was any sense of balance or fairness in the world at all. The couple, Edwin and Leighann, both 17 year-olds, have been together for a while and have a son together. Immediately, Leighann describes a situation full of bloody violence which will lead one to wonder, "Where in the hell is the mother in all this?" Apparently, despite the "abuse" and mistreatment, this is the first time that Leighann's mother has even heard of it, despite her "suspicions". Then, as Edwin, mild-mannered and quiet, explains away his side of the story I quickly realized that the entire ethos was surcharged with one-sided blame put solely on the boy. He explains about how Leighann "antagonizes" him by screaming and shouting, and when that doesn't work, she will resort to physical tactics. Usually, the situation escalates from a relatively small arguement, where Leighann will try to dig in her heels, despite many relatively calm warnings from Edwin. When Edwin finally breaks down and punches or shoves Leighann back, Tyra along with her sycophant psychologist will point it out and focus solely on his "abusive" nature, and by use of degrading language like, "you're not a complete animal" try to convince him that he is a cold-hearted determined abuser of women, because he needs to feel "manly and in control". Basically, the message women are giving men is this: It's okay for women to run their mouths, even punch and shove men but if you hit her back, it's WRONG and you're an animal! It is never, never, never okay to put your hands on a woman-- really? Even if she batters you first? Where do we draw the line? I'm sure Edwin could call the police and file domestic abuse charges on his girlfriend. To me, it sounds like two teenagers fighting it out, like a couple of um... immature teenagers. Why does the mother allow her daughter to get involved in a sexual relationship anyway? Nobody asked Leighann why she has a two year old baby and is only 17 yrs old herself. Why doesn't anyone hold her accountable for her actions? Where are the equal rights in this? Never mind that, I know that there has to be some kind of psychological ramifications for this. Let's see it like this, a woman with two kids always takes the side of one son while the other is left out in the cold. Isn't easily to understand how this could seriously damage a person? This isn't just a hypothetical question, because we all know someone who had this kind of situation and suffered greatly for it. So, yes, right now we have an unlevel playing field, and women are basking in the bright rays "equal" rights, while men are being emasculated at every turn. Women are like bad dog trainers who rub the puppy dog's nose in his own poop or hit him on the nose with a rolled up newspaper and say, "No, bad dog! Bad dog!" We set this double standard and hold men responsible for their actions while women have no accountability. So yeah, let's punish the boy because he's a no-good, low-down, wife beater!