Your Thoughts

I watch devotees bathing in Ganga
Some rafters row across my vision

Two sadhus walk by swiftly 

as your thoughts cross my mind. 

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Your Glories Reveal Through Your Devotees

Little Prahlad personifies Your unalloyed devotion.
Dhruva’s heart transformed at Your appearance.
Queen Kunti prays for difficulties only you can surmount.
For Draupadi, You are paramount.
Arjuna offered to You himself with complete surrender.
Gajendra, although an elephant, remembered Your glories in danger.
You gravitate even liberated souls like Shuka Goswami.
To serve You in the highest rasa, emancipated Rishis return as Gopis.
Ahilya waited for You till eternity.
Infinite are Your glories.

You reciprocated with each one of them
extending Yourself in transcendental forms
for some as Narsimhan, for some Ram.

You respond according to the mood we approach You with.
People across the world reveal Your loving exchanges.
You, as Narsimhan, somewhere in Africa, saved a little girl.
Krishna, You appeared to Srila Prabhupada and offered your knee-long garland.
An old lady, who didn’t even speak a common language,
left her security to serve You, Narsimhan, in Ahobilam, a remote Indian village.

Unalloyed devotees live their lives for You.
And, happily they die for You, too.
Srila Prabhupada, manifested a huge army of Krishna devotees.
His servants continue the tradition in all humility.

Your unalloyed devotees chant Your glories, discuss your pastimes.
They serve You with body, soul, money, family, intellect, and mind.
But I’m exhausting the rare mercy I received.
Desiring unfavorable material pleasures,
Brooding over petty things,
What a fool I am I still take delight in my suffering.

My Moon

Krishna, You’re my Moon, my friend.
How can my Moon be my enemy?
You’re the supreme power.
How can my Moon be weak?
My desire to please You is meek.
My devotion for you is feeble.
No matter what, You’re my Moon.
Please don’t let the moon
in my horoscope ruin me.
Hrishikesha, throw Your glance on it.
Purify it as You purified Kubja.

I See You in My Desire to See You

I shut my eyes to the world.
In the realm of my mind
the two of You, love personified,
swing back and forth
on a flower-studded swing.

I try to ‘see you’, your divine feet,
the signs of the highest divinity on your soles,
the fabric and design of your transcendental clothes,
your most beautiful face,
your divine smiles, your lotus petal-like eyes,
your cloud complexion, Krishna,
your golden face, Radha.
I, whose inner eyes have been blind,
how can I catch a glimpse of You?
What I see in my mind is my desire to see You.

My master’s master’s master’s says:
Don’t try to see Them. Absorb yourself in Them so much
That they come to see you.

En Route to Your Love

I find a route to Your love through the wounds I inflict on myself.            
I walk on the wounds. They lead me to You.                                                  
On each step, a wound deepens, another partly heals.                            
I get closer to You with each step, that’s how I feel.                                
And yet my heart sinks many times in the deep mud of worldly love.    
Each time, with Your grace, I pick my heart up.                                            
I wipe out some sins, as You may please. But it’s not enough to reach my goal.
For I need Your love to find a route to Your love.

My Heart is a Wreck

I’ve loved Hari Hari Bifale bhajan since the time I learned from Yamuna Devi’s biography that this is Prabhupada’s favorite bhajan. But my love for this bhajan is skin-deep. Or, shall I say, my love is unrealized. My love for Hari Hari Bifale is like jnana; knowledge, which goes into the mind, but heart remains bereft of its juice. Krishna pairs jnana and vijnana because jnana alone cannot take us deep enough into the Truth. But when vijnana or realization joins jnana, the truth begins to reveal itself. Vijnana, as I see it with my limited intelligence and experience, demands sacrifice. But before one is able to sacrifice with love, suffering pulls one breath by breath. Krishna, the supreme intelligence personified, knows how and how much to dose one with knowledge, suffering, sacrifice, and realization.

“samsara-bisanale, diba-nisi hiya jwale” is the third line of the second couplet in the Hari Hari Bifale bhajan. It means my heart burns day and night with the worldiness. “Worldiness” carries a different meaning for each of us, from one time to another, according to the level of our transformation. A compassionate saint suffers out of affection by seeing the souls trapped in the world, or due to his separation from God. An old man may suffer because of his disease, loss of his wife, or children. A young woman suffers from loneliness. A married woman suffers because her husband doesn’t seem to be the soul mate she wanted. The kaleidoscope of suffering has countless designs, patterns, and shades. And yet, behind each suffering lurk expectations, desires, hopelessness, insecurity, anger, fear, greed, madness, thanklessness, ingratitude, or different shades of these feelings identified by different names in different cultures and communities.

samsara-bisanale, diba-nisi hiya jwale keeps ringing in my heart like a temple bell. At times, I make efforts to remind myself of the next line “juraite na koinu upay” which means “I have not taken the means to relieve it.” This beautiful bhajan starts like this “O Lord Hari, I have spent my life uselessly. Having obtained a human birth and having not worshiped Radha and Krsna, I have knowingly drunk poison.” I know, both intuitively and experientially, that I’ve wasted away many human births running after various chimeras. I’ve wasted away many human lives by royally ignoring my eternal companions Radha and Krishna. I’ve looked for love in the way a thirsty person looks for water in a desert. I’ve hurt my eternally bruised heart with the coals of falsities and illusions a million times. A thirsty person mistakes mirage in a desert for water. I’ve gone far beyond this, several times, uncountable times. I’ve created dangerous mirages of love in the deep recesses of my heart.

Nothing but the nectar that flows from the divine feet of Radha and Krishna can heal me. In some rare moments this truth goes somewhat deeper than the bottom of my intellect. Most times, the dolphins and sharks of maya make me dance as they like. The lines before “samsara-bisanale, diba-nisi hiya jwale” reveal the antidote and my natural tendency, as I’ve developed in this world, to not take the antidote properly. “The treasure of divine love in Goloka Vrndavana has descended as the congregational chanting of Lord Hari’s holy names. Why did my attraction for that chanting never come about?” The grace of the holy name came to me 4.5 years ago. But, my stubborn mind has been victoriously distracting me during my chanting of the holy name. Krishna and the devotees always knew that this was going to happen. So, they did everything, without intervening in freewill, to help me chant anyway. My determination to chant is their unconditional gift to me.

My titanic-like heart has survived many heart-wrecks. Some I foresaw and feared and some came unexpectedly. I survived because Krishna protected me. He guided me out of them. I’ve not faced wreck of those types in many years; although of other types have been keeping me absorbed. This heart-wreck has given me glimpse of the depth of the meaning of Hari Hari Bifale. “A glimpse of the depth” is an oxymoron. To experience the depth one has to lose themselves in the depth. The spiritual moments are translogical and conflicts can co-exist in these moments.

I’ve been wondering offlately if the wreck I’ve been struggling with these days is a test that Krishna has thrown at me to check my resistance, or is it, as it happens during the process of churning nectar, that first poison comes out. Or, is it my prarabhada. It could be an ingenious combination of all of this, as orchestrated by Krishna. He must be doing this to help me transform. A Buddhist nun, Pema Chodron, says, “Nothing ever goes away until it teaches us what we need to know.” Not just need to know but need to learn and then transform. Krishna wants to cleanse my heart of all impurities so that I can see Him, love Him, and serve Him. He’s not a cheap deal. The price that I have to pay to experience the bliss of ever-increasing love is nothing less than my self. For me, I’m most precious. So, this is the highest price I can pay to get Him. He’s the highest possible achievement one can have. So the price of dedicating myself to Him is nothing. But He knows my plight. He’ll accept the price with love.

Yesterday was one of the tough days that I have been living through recently. Tears helped only as long as they dropped. Distracting the mind to other things helps me somewhat. Going out, meeting people helps for as long as I’m not back within myself. I’ve been praying, too. The medicine of prayer goes to the root of the disease. But, have I prayed intensely? Yesterday I did. I cried to Krishna. I said to Him what He already knows. I told Him I can’t open up to anyone as I can to Him. I pleaded for His help. samsara-bisanale, diba-nisi hiya jwale kept ringing in my heart like a temple bell. The evening satsang in the association of Krishnanand Prabhu uplifted my spirit. Krishna must have sent Him for my rescue. Inspired by his devotional energy, I prayed again to Radha Krishna before I slept. I closed my eyes and imagined Radha Krishna enjoying on a swing made of flowers. I was watching them prayfully when they were on the swing. The swing picked speed. Their lotus feet came closer to my heart. I cried. I don’t know when but after sometime I fell asleep. I couldn’t see their beautiful glowing faces. I couldn’t smell the flowers, either. Neither could I see the transcendental signs on the feet of their souls. This took place only in my mind. But, someday, I hope that someday, I recite them a poem while they’re swinging on their flower-studded swing in joy. I pray that that day comes sooner than I deserve. This is my helpless prayer to the eternal lords of my soul. Narottama dasa says, “O Lord, please do not push me away from Your reddish lotus feet, for who is my beloved except for You?”
hari hari! bifale janama gonainu

manushya-janama paiya, radha-krishna na bhajiya,

janiya suniya visha khainu
(2)

golokera prema-dhana, hari-nama-sankirtana,

rati na janmilo kene tay

samsara-bishanale, diba-nisi hiya jwale,

juraite na koinu upay
(3)

Vrajendra-nandana jei, saci-suta hoilo sei,

balarama hoilo nitai

dina-hina jata chilo, hari-name uddharilo,

tara sakshi jagai madhai
(4)

ha ha prabhu nanda-suta, vrishabhanu-suta-juta,

koruna karoho ei-baro

narottama-dasa koy, na theliho ranga pay,

toma bine ke ache amara
Translation:
(1) 0 Lord Hari, I have spent my life uselessly. Having obtained a human birth and having not worshiped

Radha and Krishna, I have knowingly drunk poison.
(2) The treasure of divine love in Goloka Vrindavana has descended as the congregational chanting of Lord

Hari’s holy names. Why did my attraction for that chanting never come about? Day and night my heart burns

from the fire of the poison of worldliness, and I have not taken the means to relieve it.
(3) Lord Krishna, who is the son of the King of Vraja, became the son of Saci (Lord Caitanya), and Balarama

became Nitai. The holy name delivered all those souls who were lowly and wretched. The two sinners Jagai

and Madhai are evidence of this.
(4) 0 Lord Krishna, son of Nanda, accompanied by the daughter of Vrishabhanu, please be merciful to me

now. Narottama dasa says, “O Lord, please do not push me away from Your reddish lotus feet, for who is

my beloved except for You?”