Volume 9, Chapter 7 - By Indradyumna Swami

---------- Forwarded message ----------From: Indradyumna Swami <Indradyumna.Swami@pamho.net>Date: Mon, Jul 21, 2008 at 8:20 AMSubject: Volume 9, Chapter 7To: "IDS Diary (of a Traveling Preacher)" <IDS.Diary@pamho.net> Diary of a Traveling Preacher Volume 9, Chapter 7 July 1 - 4, 2008 By Indradyumna Swami "Can You See This?"The first two festivals of the Polish tour went exceptionally well, withthousands of people attending. Throughout both of them, however, devoteeswere meditating on the third festival - in the town where the deputy mayorhad almost succeeded in canceling the event. It would be our biggest andmost prestigious festival of the summer.Nandini dasi met with officials at the town hall to discuss receiving theIndian Ambassador as our guest of honor.The mayor's secretary blushed. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed. "We didn'tfinalize the plans for his visit before the mayor left on vacation.""What?" said Nandini. "You mean the mayor won't be opening the event withthe ambassador?""I'm afraid not," the secretary replied. "Let me call the mayorimmediately."She was unable to reach him and told Nandini she would keep trying andcontact her the next day.At 9:00 am the next day the secretary called. "The mayor apologizes, but hewill be unable to attend," she said.The secretary chuckled. "But he has told the deputy mayor to open thefestival," she said.Nandini could hardly believe her ears. "The deputy mayor?" she said holdingback her own laughter. "You mean the one who slammed his fist on the tableand said there would never be another Festival of India in your town?""That's correct, Madam," said the secretary.Two days later we began advertising the festival throughout the town.Weaving through thousands of sunbathers on the beach, our Harinam partydistributed 12 thousand flyers in just over four hours. As always, peoplewaved and greeted us.We passed two women lying on the sand. "What is this?" I heard one ask herfriend."The festival," her friend replied."Which festival?" the woman asked."The festival!" her friend replied."But there are so many festivals," the woman said.Her friend smiled. "Not like this one," she said. "It's always the biggestand best in town."Our Harinam party of 100 devotees went out early on the day of the festival.Although rain had been predicted, the demigods played their part and the skywas clear with the sun shining. As we danced and chanted along theboardwalk, the women waved golden-colored Chinese fans that glimmered in thesun. Their bright silk saris moved gracefully in the light breeze coming offthe ocean. The men, in well-pressed kurtas and dhotis, some with colorfulturbans, played kartalas and other musical instruments.The people loved it and flocked forward to take pictures with the devotees,and the kirtan party was sometimes stalled for 20 or 30 minutes. While anentire family posed for a photo with us, a devotee distributing invitationscame up to me."Guru Maharaja," she said, "I just saw a family laughing and laughing. Iasked them why, and the wife replied, 'Just imagine, we used to think youwere a cult. Can you believe it? Calling such culture a cult. It's soridiculous.' "I wanted to inspire the devotees who were setting up the festival site, so Itook the kirtan party back along the boardwalk. We could see our new8-meter-high stage from a distance. Fully automatic, it's the pride and joyof our festival this summer. It was resting on the boardwalk, with 25 of ourtents extending to the beach.Suddenly, as if from nowhere, dark clouds appeared with a threat of rain."That's unusual," I thought as the wind picked up. "It's like aninauspicious omen."And sure enough, trouble was in the air. Bhakta Dominique, the site manager,came up to me as our kirtan party came close to the site."Maharaja," he began, "we have a serious problem. The owner of the hotel infront of which we're setting up the festival has ordered us to leave. He'scalled the police. It seems he owns this particular portion of theboardwalk, between the hotel and the beach. He says the council hasn'tinformed him of the event."At that moment the police arrived and spoke to Dominique."They say we have to go," Dominique said. "I've called Nandini. She'll behere in a few minutes.""Don't let the devotees know anything at this point," I said. "I don't wantthem to get discouraged."As I directed the kirtan party toward the beach, I turned my head back toDominique. "Call me with any update," I said.An hour later my phone rang. As I pulled it from my kurta pocket, I saw thatthe clouds were beginning to disperse and the wind was dropping. People whowere leaving the beach saw the good weather returning, and they went back towhere they had been lying."A good omen," I thought."I have good news," Nandini said over the telephone, and the sun suddenlyburst forth from the clouds. I smiled."The owner of the hotel has agreed we can stay," Nandini said. "But itwasn't easy. When I walked into his office, he began laughing. He said,'You're the organizer of this event? I was expecting a big man, not a tinywoman.' He said he had 24 court cases going against the town and againstpeople who had attempted to set up events on his portion of the boardwalk. Itold him our event was not for commercial purposes and that we are here toshare our spiritual culture with the people. Somehow his heart softened, andeventually he said we could stay."When I phoned the town hall, the mayor's secretary said it was true that heowned that area, but she hadn't had the heart to tell me earlier. When sheheard that he had agreed to our event she said, 'It's a miracle, simply amiracle.' Then she laughed and said, 'Would you like a job with the towncouncil?' "I felt so relieved that I encouraged the devotees to chant and dance evenmore enthusiastically. By now, however, our Harinam party had begun to tire,so I soon ended the kirtan and we returned to the site. On the way back Ioverheard people who seemed to notice me and refer to me as guru. I was alittle embarrassed and asked Mathuranath das, one of my assistants, how theyknew I was the spiritual master."Guru Maharaja," he said, "you're dressed in saffron cloth, you're in frontof the kirtan party, and you're obviously much older than the rest of us.What's more, you've been speaking on our festival stage here for the past 18years."As the devotees quickly took lunch and made last-minute preparations for thefestival, the Indian ambassador and the deputy mayor arrived backstage alongwith Jayatam and Nandini. It was obvious that the ambassador was pleased tobe there and just as obvious that the deputy mayor felt extremelyuncomfortable. He was sweating profusely and wringing his hands whilelooking around nervously.Hundreds of people were seated on the benches in the sand before the stage,and many more were walking around the festival site as the ambassador andthe deputy mayor came onstage to open the event at 6:00 pm. I'll neverforget the look of astonishment on the deputy mayor's face when he saw thelarge number of people and the magnitude of the event. From the stage it wasapparent that our colorful festival projected almost to the sea. He stoodthere dumbfounded as the audience rose and respectfully applauded him andthe ambassador.As the deputy mayor looked out at the people who were waiting for the eventto begin and then at the ambassador (a distinguished diplomat eagerlysupporting our cause), I could sense a change in his heart. I'll never knowall the unfavorable images he had previously held about our movement. Theycould have been due to the propaganda our opposition has relentlesslybroadcast throughout the country for so long. But those days are coming to aclose, and whatever misconceptions people had about us are gradually fadingbecause of the many festivals we have held over the years, festivals thathave convinced them of our authenticity and melted their hearts in affectionfor us.I watched as the deputy mayor surveyed the festival grounds. Our restaurantwas full of people eating prasadam, and the yoga tent was overflowing withparticipants. In the cooking tent, a demonstration was packed with womeneager to learn the art of vegetarian cooking. All the tents with displays onVedic culture were jam-packed, and the questions-and-answers tentoverflowed. People were walking around with Srila Prabhupada's books alreadyin hand, and many of the children's faces were decorated with gopi dots. Thehuge site was so packed it was hard to move anywhere.The deputy mayor stared in amazement, and I could hardly believe my eyeswhen I saw him look down at his prepared speech and then put his notes backin his pocket. Glancing once more over the event before him, he stepped upto the microphone and began to speak off the cuff."Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "it is indeed an honor for our town tohost this great event here on our beautiful coast."Devotees looked at each other in astonishment. No one had expected him toglorify us."The very fact that the Indian Ambassador is present shows the importance ofthe occasion," said the deputy mayor.Devotees shook their heads in disbelief."Looking around," he said, "we can see it is an event of great magnitude,bringing an ancient and colorful culture to our shores."My mind turned to Srila Prabhupada. "My beloved spiritual master," I prayed,"can you see this? Can you see this?"The deputy mayor continued. "As many of our respected citizens know," hesaid, "we reserve this boardwalk location for only the most prestigiousevents, and I consider this Festival of India to be such an event."Devotees were grinning from ear to ear."Thus," he continued, "as deputy mayor I hereby declare that our town willhappily host this event, on this very spot, for many years to come. My dearcitizens and tourists, please enjoy this wonderful event."The crowd began to clap politely, but the devotees stood up and wildlyapplauded. I was unable to say or do anything. I sat in my seat dumbstruck,my eyes brimming with tears."Who would have ever imagined?" I thought. "Such things are possible only bythe mercy of Lord Caitanya."Stepping back from the microphone, the deputy mayor asked the ambassador tocome forward and say a few words. The ambassador was full of praise for ourmovement and all that we are doing to spread Krsna consciousness in Poland.In fact, he was so inspired that after leaving the stage he spent two hoursin the questions-and-answers tent fielding questions from the public.A man challenged him. "Does this Hare Krsna movement really represent yourculture?" the man asked."Yes," the ambassador replied with a smile, "to the highest degree."Afterwards he returned to the main stage and delivered a half-hour lectureon the importance of controlling the senses to understand the self within.That evening, after the guests had left, I lingered as devotees cleaned upthe site. I sat on an empty bench and remembered the great display of LordCaitanya's mercy I had seen that day."How privileged I feel to be part of this movement!" I thought. "It isbringing unlimited good fortune to the people of this country. It isastonishing that the incredible things I read in sastra, I am able to seefirst-hand through this festival. Such are the modern-day pastimes of LordCaitanya, inspiring devotees and non-devotees alike."satatam janata bhava tapa haramparamartha parayana loka gatimnava leha karam jagat tapa harampranamami saci suta gaura varam"I bow down to Gaura, the beautiful son of Mother Saci, who is alwaysremoving the suffering of people's material existence, who is the goal oflife for those who are dedicated to their supreme interest, who inspiresmaterialists to accept transcendental qualities and to become like bees,eager to lick up the honey of krsna-katha, and who removes all fear of thematerial world."[Srila Sarvabhauma Bhattacarya, Sri Gauranga-mahima, verse 4]Indradyumna.swami@pamho.netwww.traveling-preacher.comAudio lectures: www.narottam.com