My Deepest Darkest Secret

My new passport arrived in the mail this week. I'm really excited because the next step is to get my visas transferred to the new book. I ordered the larger passport because I intend to travel abroad as much as possible. I haven't had enough time to practice this week or do much studying because I was so exhausted from our road trip that I had a hard time catching up with my normal routine. I only went to Taekwondo a couple times this week but I feel like my body is getting back to 100%. Slowly but surely.
Tomorrow is Śrī Nityānanda Trayodaśi and I couldn't be happier. I feel like I haven't been to the temple in ages and, at the same time, like I need a break from everything. I need to withdraw and take time for myself. I don't know if that's strange but sometimes it's just better for me to relax and recover. I feel as if I'm mentally preparing for something incredibly life-changing and transformative. I don't know if its something in the air, my intuition, or what. Somehow, I feel like this trip to India is going to be ground shattering, even though I've been before and nothing particularly exciting happened.
I wanted to talk to you about my dream... the one I had when I was in India. About eight years ago, I was in Belpukur village with my in-laws and I had a weird dream. I was back in high-school except it was not a high-school anymore. The campus was also a college and a lot of my friends from school were studying or teaching there. I went there to pursue a degree and met with a few class-clowns from freshman year. I thought they were irritating in fact; their antics were no longer amusing but distracting and disruptive. I chucked a couple times but the novelty quickly wore off. I don't know what the hell this means so don't ask me. After class, another professor came in, a guru! He was someone I was close to and highly respected; he was also extremely dear to me so I felt bad that he had to deal with us, that he had to instruct us. It was strange, a saffron-clad Gaudiya monastic teaching a mathematics course? At any rate, I woke up with a feeling of urgency. I had to go back to school, take my spirituality more seriously and help others by giving back. I wanted to teach again. I wanted to play my violin again. I wanted to open an ashram, temple, and university in Belpukur. It was ingrained in my mind and for eight years it has slowly eaten away at my conscience. I feel guilty that I haven't taken steps toward my dream. I can't sleep at night because I'm trying to hash out plans to make this project happen. What do I do? Where do I start? Who do I ask for help? How will it manifest? So, I've broken this idea into smaller phases and goals to make them more realistic. I decided to pursue a degree in Music Education, as well as take some business or administrative courses. Over the years, it has nagged at me and, feeling the project was too far-fetched, I kept it hidden-- a secret. My most intimate hidden contribution to society and my goal of life.
When I first started school we had a project in one of our classes-- setting out a long-term goal, short term goals, and life long dreams. Of course, it didn't take long for my dream to come pouring out and when it did, I realized why I was so miserable. I have been locking my deepest, most daring desires away because I was afraid others would laugh at it. I don't care anymore. In fact, I've found that it helps me to discuss it with people and pick other people's brains. There are people in this world who have experience beyond our own and if we don't express our interests, there is no way they'll ever know who we really are. They will never have an idea of our inner most inclinations and that person may be a hidden gem, a treasure trove of knowledge waiting to give its bounty.
So I'm letting you know in hopes that you're also a vidya-ratna, a gem of knowledge and wisdom, and will assist me or guide me in actualizing my dream. Thank you.
About Sri Bilva-pakkha, Belpukhuriya, Belpukur

Dream Drama

Today I woke up at three in the morning after a series of strange dreams. I can't recall them but I can assure you they left me with an uneasy feeling. I went to the bathroom to wash my face and use the bathroom. The past couple days my right hand has felt weak and stiff; I noticed a tremble in my ring finger when I play piano so I'm a bit worried but mostly I'm certain it has more to do with my B12 deficiency and is probably nothing serious. When I mentioned to Chandaneswar prabhu that I had a strange dream and my hand was bothering me, he offered to massage it for me. I got some mustard oil and he told me about his weird dream. He first told me that he saw his choto mama (younger maternal uncle) and choto mami (aunt) together even though his uncle passed away a few years ago. In another dream he saw his village, we had moved to Belpukur and were living a simple life among the locals in a mud house. Prabhu's relatives still live in Belpukur or near Mayapur so it is strange we moved into a separate house. Then again, it isn't so strange considering that Chandaneswar prabhu and his mother are estranged. In the dream, we lived near one of Belpukur's temples on the other side of town (I say this as if Belpukur is very big to begin with) and suddenly my mother-in-law shows up with her party of women for matri sanga. In essence, this is a group of gossip-mongers in the guise of religious or pious ladies who gather in someone's home on the pretext of religious ceremonies and discourse. Certainly, Chandaneswar prabhu approves of any spiritual activity, but in this context he was very displeased. He started scolding his mother for showing up with her group of people, for presuming that she could enter our home without our consent or permission, and finally for her general rowdiness. She insisted that she had a right to enter our home whenever she damn well pleased since she's his mom. Chandaneswar countered that she was no mother of his; as far as he was concerned she had a son and four daughters, nothing less, nothing more. At this time the street sweeper or garbage truck rolled by and shook Chandaneswar prabhu from his sleep so I couldn't even find out what happened in this episode of his dream.... and what a spectacle of a dream! Sometimes I wish I could pay admission into other people's dreams because they seem funnier or stranger than my own.

Dhām, Dhan, and Dharā

Yesterday I had another interesting dream worth noting. It took place in India at a temple, but one portion involved a local prison, interestingly enough.

In my dream, an old high school friend was traveling with me on a tour. He had a room in the temple's guesthouse, and worked on recording/editing audio. It appears I was performing again, and I was traveling to my favorite places on the pretext of touring. I was in Mayapur again, and the rice paddy was growing high. I couldn't believe it; I was elated and leapt with joy as I walked the muddy roads. There was torrential rain, and roads were washed away. I didn't care that my sari was soaked. I didn't care that I had to hike up my sari and struggle down the muddy, slippery road. I was content. As I struggled toward the temple compound, I sang and skipped along the paths. I saw flood waters near the end of the road, and the surplus spilled into a small dirgha. The river seemed to change its path, and I felt reassured in seeing it. The earth smelled beautifully fragrant, alive with all manner of plants and aquatics. 

I finally arrived back at the temple guesthouse, where I met my friend. He was happy to see I made it safely to Mayapur. He didn't know I'd been there several days already. He was working diligently while I roamed the flooded countryside, and I didn't care to tell him. It was best he found out, it was time I focused on my work. I headed to my room, showered, and changed into a fresh garment. I had an assortment of beautiful gowns, saris, and frocks on my room. I wondered why anyone with such pretty dresses at home would ever choose to run in the muck outside. I felt quiet and alone in my room as the dresses didn't console me, and I suddenly felt the urge to wander the town. 

Restless, I left the temple compound and headed toward the bazaar. There I saw trains, busses, and rickshaws headed in every direction; I walked further and spotted a jail. The jail was a chatur shala building, like a square. The interior courtyard was sealed with metal mesh to keep the prisoners from escaping. Some cried out to me, "Devi, please have mercy. Kripa koren! Bless us, please, that we may leave this place." 

I couldn't understand why they were calling out. I simply felt sad, and wondered what good prayers or blessing would be. Despondent, I turned back and sang a song. The prisoners cried, "Beautiful! Sing more for us, it brings us joy, ma'am. Please don't walk away from us." I turned and proposed to sing more songs if it pleased them, but all devotional songs of Śrī Hari. They wept with joy, and thanked me.   

I headed back, I told them I would return with instruments and more vaishnavas. 

My friend asked me as I wandered in for the second time, glassy-eyed and covered in mud, "Where do you keeping disappearing to?" 

Mayapur. 

Lakshmi Puja/Damodara Mas

Yesterday we celebrated Lakshmi puja at our home. I lightly decorated the porch and sidewalk after sweeping and washing it. I purified my home with cow dung smoke and incense, and then set an altar for Lakshmi devi. I bathed my Lakshmi Narasimhadev with milk, yogurt, ghee, honey, and sugar water. Chandaneswar prabhu performed arati, while  Krishna Chandra and his cousins bathed the deities and offered ghee lamps to Lord Damodar. I was really satisfied with our simple but devoted puja. 

Later, I went to offer a ghee lamp at Radha Kalachandji's temple, and took some photos with my camera phone. Radha Kalachandji were bedecked in jewels and donning a luminescent white outfit. Shining brighter than a thousand moons, Kalachandji and Sri Radhe glanced gracefully and captivated the hearts of Their admirers. I can not describe how fortunte I am to have Their mercy.

It is impossible to describe the saundarya quality of Radha Kalachandji fully.
I can only allude to Their exquisite beauty in unworthy fragments. 

Sringar and Strange Dreams

I wanted to share the mehendi and alta designs that I completed today.

Last night I felt a little restless and started doodling along my hand.

 

 Unfortunately, the paste was too thin for the cone tip size, so the lines were as not sharp or controlled as I like. Still, the design is pretty good for the quality paste I made.

 Today, I wanted to decorate my feet as well, and since the mehendi was being finicky, I decided to use alta on them. I did simple vines on the toes, petals around the ankles and a heart in the middle. Originally, I planned to draw a paan leaf, however, my brushes were too thick for the fine line work necessary for detailed artwork.

The past couple of nights I have been having strange dreams that wake me up unusually early. One such dream was about my friend's dad. He gave up his job and started teaching at a local college. I walked into my class to find he was my new professor. I told my friend about it, especially about how differently he behaved in class than at home. Another dream was about flying and mountains, I think because we flew in a small plane recently. However, the most unusual one was about a charming couple that was hell bent on seducing me knowing I was happily married. They even suggested I remain 'open-minded' with regard to my dear husband.

"Oh my Lord," I exclaimed "what exactly are you insinuating? Do I come off as 'that kind of girl' to you?" With that indignant remark, I was startled awake. I could feel my heart racing, as if I were panic stricken by a very stressful situation. I don't know why I was so upset by that situation. Maybe because deep inside my heart somewhere, I am still agitated and disturbed by sexual advances. It makes me feel like prey, locked within the vision of a dangerous predator. Particularly when it involves couples, women, or my husband.

Expecting Summer

Well, I have one more final exam left, but this semester is finally over. I'm really proud of myself; all my hard work has paid off with straight As. I'm looking forward to the fall, but for now I just want to take a break and spend time with my friends and family. I have a few sewing project ideas lined up, so stick around to see them. I'll post my travels, ideas, projects, and realizations here more frequently during summer.
Recently, I noticed more matajis wearing the Bengali style sari, and while I am somewhat flattered (I can only take credit, since, I'm the only one around here who wears it), but I'm also a little worried. Some matajis still don't have very good fashion sense, or lack a sense of appropriate colors. I blame viewing too many Bollywood films with over-saturated colors, or color shock. For example, I observed a Westerner who colored her hair jet black (I guess to appear more ethnic), but instead she looks old, unhealthy, and strange. On top of that, she wore dark or rich colors, which would be appropriate for a warm complexioned person, but simply exaggerated her unnatural hair color and darkened circles around her eyes. Of course, I am not sure if she is just tired, but darkening the hair will only worsen the appearance of wrinkles, dark circles, and pale skin. If you dye your hair, please make sure you dye it to your natural hair color (to cover gray), or stay within two shades of your natural shade. If you are not sure, visit a professional hair colorist. Similarly, when lightening the hair color, it is important to stay as close to the natural shade, or one will risk looking 'washed out'.
Honestly, the temple is not the appropriate venue for something like this, however, it is obvious to me that these women need serious help. I wish there was a place where these matajis could receive personalized styling and fashion advice from an expert. A visit with a professional stylist, colorist, or hairdresser could have easily averted such a horrible mistake from ever happening. On wearing appropriate color combinations, shades, and hues, a person will appear healthier, beautiful, and natural. Everyone has different combinations of hair, eyes, and skin, therefore, everyone has a different color palette combination. On another occasion, I saw a mataji wearing heavy makeup, combined with a shockingly unnatural hair color that was too red for her skin tone, and a poor choice of apparel for her figure. This made her look older, sickly, and frumpy. Whereas, if she had chosen more appropriate make up and apparel, she would have appeared more vibrant and attractive.
Naturally, all women want to look beautiful, and they go to great extents to look and feel more attractive. Unfortunately, due to ignorance, some matajis are enticed to mimic the unrefined and gaudy styles they see in trashy Hindi movies. I forewarn anyone from copying these styles, as they are mostly unchaste and inappropriate, and will typically not suit many complexions. Matajis that combine these poorly will end up looking older, unhealthy, strange, and in some cases, extremely unchaste. Sometimes I feel like saying something, especially if others are criticizing or mocking them. However, I'm just not sure how to tactfully mention something like this without hurting anyone's feelings. Truly, these women need help. Most of the time, I see them trying colors which are not suitable to their complexion but  I have seen less obvious mistakes like combining apparel which is not suitable to the body type, personality, or appropriate for temple festivals, as well.

Sri Belpukhuriya Meditations

Sri Belpukuriya Meditations

As I sprint to the sacred banyan tree, I catch the sweet sounds of cymbals singing out in the misty, morning air. The whole of Belpukur is rejoicing, it is the last day of our spring festival. The final procession of pilgrims will make their journey through our village and I will be the only American around for miles. I'll have my oasis all to myself but I want everyone to appreciate this celestial abode. The residents call us sadhus, sages, because we follow the strict Vaishnava discipline but a real sage is one who lives permanently in a holy place, like Belpukur. Belpukur is a unique sacred site, intoxicatingly beautiful and my second home.

Sri Madan Gopal

Belpukur is unique and special among holy places. In the scriptures it is said to be supreme. This is where Mother Sachi was born and raised. In this very village, she worshipped her family deity named Sri Madan Gopal who is 1700 years old. I visit Sri Madan Gopal temple in the mild chill of morning. An old, slippery, mud path winds from my backyard, past straw huts and an orchard toward the temple lawn. I can hear a spinning wheel creaking and the loud cracks of a wooden handloom. I arrive in time to get a sprinkling of rose scented holy water. I bow down before Sri Madan Gopal, an enchanting cowherd with a garland of flowers strewn across his chest and a bamboo flute pressed to His lips. The priest gives me some pebbles of rock candy and bright marigolds, remnants from the ritual offering. I feel immensely satisfied when I visit the local temple. The place lights up with brightly colored banners, smiling pilgrims, and flower garland decorations during festivals. Belpukur is like heaven on earth.

Belpukur is an intoxicatingly beautiful tropical scene. The melodious symphony of song-birds reverberate and shatter the sky. An army of svelte bael trees tower above and defend us from sunshine in a battle as old as time. There is an abundance of swimming holes at every step and you can hear children diving into their depths with laughter. Belpukur is drenched in water most of the year. During the monsoon season, rain will pour like a river from the sky. Rice fields continue as far as the eye can see. The cows drift freely from one pasture to the next and kick up a cloud of dust in the late afternoon. The trees are infested with wild monkeys gathering ripe fruits. They smash wood apples on the ground and scoop out the delicious, creamy pulp. The scene is beautified by dancing bees and the fragrance of aromatic jasmine and hibiscus in the air. Sri Belpukuriya is the most bewitching place on Earth. 
Sri Belpukuriya is my home far away from home. I feel revived and nourished here. Everyone treats me like family or an acquaintance from countless lifetimes. The villagers are unpretentious and genuine which gives me a sense of belonging. In the lazy afternoon, we eat fresh, ripe fruit and bake in the sun together while listening to funny stories. The youth address me as their older sister and the elders affectionately call me their daughter-in-law. As the winter season comes to an end, the spring festivities commence with fervor. In the evening we all dress up and rush to the festival. There are savory snacks at every stall, hot and spicy potato samosas with tamarind sauce drizzled on top. A chai vendor makes the tastiest spiced milk with just a hint of saffron that tingles your nose. The clang of bells and gongs chase after the holy names of God and the air is dank with camphor, incense and flowers. Thousands of pilgrims chant and dance all night in a trance-like state. A fleeting moment inside the festival ground feels like an eternity. The strong social bonding and familial ties in Belpukur makes it my second home. 

I finally made it to the rendezvous point under the sacred banyan tree. The entire world was present under the shade of that enormous banyan and I searched the crowd for my dear friend, Prema Rupa. When I found her, I recounted my stay in Belpukur for the past six months and walked an eternity to my house. I showered her with the same loving hospitality that was shown to me and she rested on my verandah. Belpukur is indeed my favorite place in the world. It is my second home, enchantingly beautiful and a supremely celestial holy site.

Diwali Lights

Rangoli/ Alpana designs on my porch.

Different parts of India celebrate Diwali or Dipavali a little differently but what remains constant are lights. Lots of frickin' lights.
In Bengali culture, Diwali coincides with Kali puja and typically it is a huge affair. Everyone gets dressed up in the evenings to walk around the neighborhood and take darshan of the local Kali thakur, clay forms of the Goddess and decorates their homes with candles, ghee lamps and electric lights. While I do enjoy Kali puja, I love decorating the home with lights and alpana even more which is why my favorite festival has to be Lakshmi puja.
In South India women decorate their homes with rice flour mandalas or kolams daily and ancient kolams range from the simple to ridiculously elaborate and intricate designs.

My last edition was my sloppiest, my back was aching.

In North India the use of a wide variety of colored powders, sand and flour are used to make rangolis. Vivid and bright-- red, yellow, green, orange and blue are not only beautiful to look at but also liven up the atmosphere and look very festive.

.

Tealight candles illuminate the walkway to my doorstep.

I prefer the traditional rice flour method as it is bright enough to show on even dark surfaces and will stay longer when dried. You make a paste by soaking some rice flour in water preferably overnight. When you're ready to use your paste, simply add more water to your desired consistency. I like it thin and apply it with a cotton ball or my hands but you could use pretty much anything from your hands to a paintbrush, or even a stencil blotter..

Alta Madness

Well, this past week was unusually warm, even for a Texan winter. I decided to break in my new ankle-bells since it was warm enough to finally wear sandals again. Of course, this meant I needed to start treating my feet if I was ever to get them in a pair of flip-flops! The nice thing about winter is that my feet stay pretty warm and cozy in their socks and bulky shoes-- so there was little work to be done on them. I remembered that today is tritiya, the perfect tithi for beauty treatments so I gave myself a manicure, pedicure and trimmed my hair a little bit. This was my first time trimming my own hair without supervision but I have to say it came out pretty good.
I  got out my alta and mehendi design books to start practicing for the upcoming Spring. I can't wait to decorate my feet but for now I practiced only on my hands.

Alta is a red dye used for decoration in India, especially in Bengali brides.  Nowadays, alta is used very rarely -- usually only by dancers and on special occasions like Durga puja.

You can design alta on your hands and feet too, all you need is some alta, a design book and wooden stick. A bamboo skewer, orange stick or toothpick can work perfectly, you can even use a thin brush. The art motifs I used came out of a mehendi book; I simply painted them onto my hand using a simple wooden pencil fashioned out of a skewer. I purchased my alta at a local Indian market, they usually keep it with the puja and decorative items.

The inside has a simple highlighting of the fingertips and dots on the palm.
 

More elaborate motifs: flowers, vines and blossoms accentuate the natural lines of the hand.
. 

I'll keep up the alta decorating and post more images as they come available. The batteries on my camera died so I wasn't able to get better shots, these are from my mobile. :(  

Kirtan Greed

Last night was amazing, HH Guna Grahi Goswami Maharaj and HG Ajamil Prabhu had bhajans in the temple room after the feast and I was fortunate enough to play with them. I felt extremely uplifted and felt the urge to dance towards the end, so I put down my instrument and went to the back of the temple room. On Friday we had the opportunity to hear Ajamil prabhu sing at Devaprastha prabhu's home and it was as if we were all lifted out of the material realm and traveled into the spiritual reality. I wish I could have more opportunities like this. The last time Maharaj and Prabhu came to Dallas, I had just returned from India myself and was really depressed and suffering from culture shock. I can't fully describe how wonderful and welcoming it felt to hear an ecstatic Bengali padavali kirtan in the West. I immediately remembered long and sleepless nights of padavali kirtans back in Bengal; the penetrating Baul voices piercing through the winter night, across mustard and paddy fields and straight into my bedroom, chanting Hare Krishna well into the early morning hours of the next day. Ki anando! What fun we had then! When I wasn't given the opportunity to listen in person, I would stay up all night in bed, listening, chanting japa, reading or reminiscing other spiritual encounters. Sound can easily transport you into a different time, places and dimension; music is actually the best medium for astral travel and meditation. Sometimes I completely forget that. There will be another program tonight at the famous vegetarian restaurant Cosmic Cafe and I selfishly pray not too many people show up.... I'm really greedy for an small and intimate kirtan session with Maharaj and Prabhu like we there had last time. I'm lucky they even allow me to play with them. :-)

Sringar

Today I'm working on completing a new dress I've been working on these past two days. Day one I did most of the cutting, day two, interfacing and stitching the bodice and today, hopefully I will finish it. I only have to stitch the skirt and pockets and voila! 

The other day, while searching for sweaters and scarves, I found a bunch of clothes and bangles I haven't seen since my trip to India. Yesterday, two friends dropped by to look at saris, while I was going through the collection, I realised how many gorgeous frickin' saris I have. All are cotton Bengali handloom, তাঁত সাড়ি and several are intricately hand-embroidered tangail,  টাঙ্গাইল; I also  found tons of silver jewelry, in Rajasthani style-- heavily detailed and bulky sitting around collecting dust in storage bins so today I've decided to indulge my vanity and play dress up as much as possible.  Last week I played around with a cone of henna, painting anyone who would let me, until finally it started to dry up and I exhausted myself trying to squeeze out the viable portions. I even decorated my own hands and feet, I only have photos of my feet, however. Usually I never post photos of my own feet on my blog, as I know there are devotees that frequent it for the occasional Krishna-conscious post but today I will simply beg forgiveness ahead of time and ask that you not scroll down to the bottom unless you specifically wish to see the cute peacock design on my ugly feet. :)

Though I really like henna and all mehendi designs, my favorite cosmetic is still alta, first and foremost. Maybe today I'll play around with designing artwork in alta. Using traditional Bengali or Hindu insignia like swastik, peacock, kalash, fish, butterfly, vedi etc. are my favorite motifs to use in decorating hands though I specifically avoid placing any auspicious or sacred paraphernalia drawings like vedi, kalash or swastik on the feet. I like the heart-shaped leaves and vines because they look like paan leaves, a very essential and iconic part of Bengali weddings. 

I think I did pretty well considering how I had to play contortionist just to get the right angles. 

Amar Sudhu Pakhar Haowah

I wanted to narrate a funny story my father-in-law told me, it's in Bengali but I've translated it into American English to be more understandable. It's about a sneaky disciple who engages his Guru's last dime in his own service.  Gosai is short for 'Goswami' or master of the senses. Thakur means 'Lord' or 'Master', these are reverential titles awarded to spiritual masters. When the spiritual master visits the disciple's home, it is customary to offer him worship, service, sanctified foods, clothes, flowers, garlands and money in a pleasing way.

One fine morning a guru arrived at the home of his sisya; the disciple was very elated to see his spiritual master after a long absence. "O' Thakur, please come inside!" he invited the Gosai in and with all hospitality offered him a seat and refreshments. The disciple spoke, "Gosai, please take your bath while I go to market and prepare you a nice feast! I will personally make all the arrangements." While Thakur Gosai changed into his towel, the disciple slipped into his Gurudev's wallet and took all the cash. Happily, the disciple headed off to market to procure the ingredients for a fine feast, garlands, flowers, incense and new clothes and spent every last rupee. Upon his return he toiled over the stove and prepared a wonderful meal, delicious sweets and refreshing drinks. Meanwhile, Gosai returned fresh and smiling from his bath in the sacred Ganga; the disciple seated Thakur Gosai, offered him new silk clothes, currency, opulent worship and prasad. After enjoying the magnificent meal, Thakur Gosai reclined in his seat while his faithful disciple fanned him with a huge peacock feather fan. Appreciating such devoted service, Gosai praised his disciple, "My dear disciple, I am very pleased and flattered by your loving acts of devotion. You offer me your home, food, money, and hard work; everything you have engaged in my service. You are indeed a very dedicated disciple." Speaking in this way the Guru beamed with love, understanding to have acquired a magnanimous student by the favor of Divine Grace. The disciple very humbly spoke, 

"Only the fan's breeze is my own."

"গোসাই, সাব কিছু আপনার, আমার সুধু  পাখার হাওয়া." 

"My Lord, everything belongs to you, I am simply fanning you."

Jagannather Lila

Lord Balaram with Gada

Today morning, Krishna Chandra offered his help and I accepted, even though he stubbornly refuses to shower in the morning, for peaceful relations purposes. I prepare the chandan and the Lords’ wash cloths for Krishna Chandra, he bathes and decorates Them while I prepare Their breakfast offering. When I returned with clean puja thali, he was still applying the chandan on Radha Raman and Banke Bihari when he yelped, “Oh, Mommy, did the Lord just blink? I saw it, They’re eyes just blinked at me!” My eyes widened as I remembered similar incidents with Their Lordships and asked, half skeptically, “Who blinked at you?” “They did. Them. They scared me.” as he gestured toward my two sets JBS deities. “Oh…” my voice trailed off and I stood there stunned, not knowing exactly what to say, “did Lord Jagannath scare you?” “Yeah,” laughingly “They really scared me. I think They’re trying to move. They want to talk to me.” Hmm… I still didn’t know what to say but I took his word for it; Jagannath Baladev Subhadra and I have a history of strange pastimes and I wondered exactly what was going on. Several times, crowns, turbans, jewelry, cups and spoons have moved, disappeared or been thrown from the altar… I suspect it was Jagannath but I can’t prove anything. Usually, Lord Baladev starts laughing hysterically like He’s having some kind of fit when I start interrogating Them about it while Jagannath remains utterly still and silent. I convince myself that I’m just hallucinating or losing my mind then dismiss the incidents. After this incident, Chandaneswar prabhu arrived and we were getting ready to pick flowers and perform Tulasi arati when Krishna Chandra approached me again, “Mommy, I can’t finish Their chandan.. I can’t handle Them easily. There are too many deities!” I asked him if he was frightened by Lord Jagannath, if that was the real reason he wanted to quit his service, “Nooo… I just can’t handle too many deities, its too hard.” I tried to finish up whatever he had left to do when I told Chandaneswar prabhu what happened earlier and to ask Krishna Chandra about it. I noticed everything was already finished, KC was little but fast; I only had to offer the fruits, flowers and water and do Tulasi puja.

Puja thali with fresh garden flowers 

Chandaneswar prabhu asked me what was for breakfast, “I was thinking to make either blueberry pancakes or kichuri, we still have a lot of blueberries left over...” He suggested kichuri would be better, I could make a jam with the berries since we had to stop by the market later this afternoon anyway, I could pick up some pectin at the same time. Great! Everything was settled and he started making kichuri while I did finished puja and Tulasi Maharani’s arati ceremony. During breakfast prasadam, we reminisced about Vrindavan kichuri, achar and dahi breakfasts. Shyamkunda prabhu joined us and talked about the superiority of Vrindavan kichuri over all other kichuris, “I don’t know why but Vrindavan kichuri always tastes… great.”  and his voice trailed off. I could tell he was deep in contemplation of Braja Dham. Then Chandaneswar prabhu brought up the kichuri festival of Govind Ghosh in Agradwip, West Bengal and retold the story of Gopinath and Govindo Ghosh. As Chandaneswar prabhu spoke, I noticed his body became covered in  goosebumps and the hairs on his limbs were standing up, as if he was immersed in an ecstatic emotion. I quickly looked back up and tried to ignore it when I caught Shyamkunda prabhu was also staring very deeply at Chandaneswar prabhu’s condition. I could tell Shyamkunda prabhu had also noticed the symptoms of ecstasy overwhelming his body, covering from the top of his head to waist area. 
If you ever find yourself in West Bengal, make your way to Agradwip for Govinda Ghosh’s disappearance day festival, when Lord Gopinath performs the pindo-daan and shraddha ceremony as if He were Govindo Ghosh’s own son and hear the full story behind this festival for yourself. There is a short version here at Srila Govinda Ghosh's Disappearance from ISKCON Desire Tree but you really have to hear about it in the Holy Dham for the full effect  ;)
Well, I received the new Back To Godhead magazine a few days back, so I have some reading to catch up on… but I did remember to take photographs this morning. You can see more  at Jagannather Lila album.

Bengali Gunda

Last night I had a very heartfelt conversation with a Bengali gangster. No, it was not real, at least not within the tangible world- it was in a dream I had last night about the power of pure Vaishnavs

This gangster and I happened to meet by chance, somehow I was sent to his gang leader's house where we met and began to have small conversation. He began to ask me where I was from and I answered him very carefully (as you would do when encountered by this kind of dangerous personality). That is not to say that he was intimidating or threatening but I tried to answer him and not provoke his anger.

After telling him that I was a born and bred American he inquired further, captivated by confusion, “Why do you say you’re American but you look and act Bengali, even your dress is Bengali. Do you think I’m stupid?” Realising that my new friend was Bengali and knowledgeable of culture and dress, I explained to him the reason I was dressed like a Bengali. “Yes, I am Bengali actually, I’ve adopted Bengali dress and language so that makes me a Bengali.” He asked me to speak in Bengali with him so I obliged. I respectfully addressed him as my brother and inquired how he was doing. He would question, “Why did you say that you are American when you’re obviously a Bengali. How is it that you’ve adopted Bengali traditions fully even taking to the language?” So I explained to him that I was a devotee of Krishna and in the line of the Gaudiya Vaishnav Sampradaya. He simply stared at me blankly as if he had never heard of any of this before, so I asked him “Dada, what? Haven’t you even heard of the Gaudiya Samproday before? Haven’t you heard of the likes of Srila Bhaktivinod Thakur, the main instigator of Lord Caitanya Mahaprabhu’s cult in the west?” He said sadly, “No, I’ve never heard of him before, who is he? Please tell me more about this man.” So I told him that Srila Bhaktivinod Thakur was a great man and a Bengali devotee who wrote many beautiful songs, he is one of our great Acharyas and teachers, still to this day we sing his songs of devotion. They are all in Bengali so many of us have learned the language that way. I began to sing for him to demonstrate the beauty of his writings and the gangster immediately broke down into tears from the power of Srila Bhaktivinod’s words. “How is it possible that such a wonderful personality has written these kind of sad poems? It is obvious that he is a great Vaishnav but he writes that he is fallen and lamenting his life. He says he has wasted his entire lifetime on worthless and fruitless endeavors. If he thinks he’s fallen, what must I be?” He certainly broke down and began to sob like a child, “What a waste, what a waste, I have spent my life looting and murdering, engaging in criminal and sinful activity of all kind. Please help me get out of this sinful life!” Somehow, his gang leader did not object, as he was hearing the entire conversation and he also had tears in his eyes. He told me to feel free to take his follower and come back anytime to speak hari-katha to him. Thus, two gundas were transformed from criminals and sinners of every kind into devotees and all by the words of Srila Bhakivinod Thakur. It goes to show how powerful one pure devotee of the Lord is even in the midst of the most fallen.

Cooking with Cassandra

Yesterday, Cassandra and I got dressed and decorated, and along with Krishna Chandra went to the temple to celebrate Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati Prabhupada's Appearance Day. After kirtan, dancing and prasadam we went out on some errands and shopping. While we were at Newflower Farmers Market, she asked my husband and I to teach her cooking and recipes etc. Of course my husband jumped at the opportunity, we gathered some last minute supplies and headed home. Later, after arriving home we (mainly prabhu) coached her through dinner. I merely prepped(about ten mins.), making the puree and chopping the potatoes etc. She prepared a marvelous dish, chickpea and potato subji with fresh whole-wheat puris. For garnish you can add chopped green chiles and cilantro, I passed on the chiles! :D


After offering everything to Krishna, we sat down and took prasadam together, it was actually one of the best chickpea subjis I've ever had, of course she had a wonderful teacher too!

Oh, I wanted to add another photo of Cassandra's feet, sorry I won't put my own up because her feet look much better than mine. Earlier, before heading to the temple, we decorated our feet with alta.

Alta is a red dye that Bengali women wear on their feet; it is out-dated now but some ladies still wear it on special occassions. Actually, I was really surprised when Cassandra asked me to paint alta on her feet because usually women don't show any interest in traditional decoration and make-up.