Diary of a Traveling Preacher
Volume 9, Chapter 8
By Indradyumna Swami
July 5 - 12, 2008
"The Curse"The devotees were in high spirits after our resounding success with thefestival on the beachfront. The next day we drove to Mrzezyno, the site ofour next program. Several devotees asked me whether we could go out chantingearlier than usual.I smiled. "Conserve your energy," I said. "We've got 43 more festivals togo."At no other time of the year do we all work so hard for such an extendedperiod. We put on a major event every day of the week, except Monday, fornearly two months. In other places, devotees may take days to recover fromRatha-yatra or Gaura-purnima, but on the tour, each day is a major festivalwith another the next day.How do the devotees do it? By enjoying each other's company and sharingtheir good fortune with those who are not yet devotees. It's not surprising.It's been going on for hundreds of years.Sri Narahari Chakravarti Thakura writes: "News of how countless persons werebeing converted to Vaisnavism spread throughout the land. All of thedevotees became enlivened because of this. Harinama das and Ramakrishna dashappily engaged themselves in performing sankirtan. As a result, they becamecompletely indifferent towards materialistic life after gaining the mostvaluable wealth of devotional service to the Lord. Having become devotees,they began to stay with Balarama Kaviraja so that they could always beengaged in hearing and chanting the glories of the Lord."[Narottama-vilasa, 10th vilasa]That morning, our Harinam party chanted down the beach giving outinvitations and telling people of the coming event in the evening. Thedevotees didn't have to wait long to see the effect of their sincereefforts. As we passed a family sitting in deckchairs on the sand, the mancalled me and one of my disciples over."We're thrilled that you're having your festival while we're on vacationhere," he said. "We came last year and really enjoyed it. In fact, we can'tforget you even for a day. Our four-year-old daughter is your biggest fan.All year long, every day, she sings your song, even in her sleep.""Which song, Sir?" I asked."Marta," the father said, "sing the song."Little Marta stood up with a big smile and bright face. She began singing:Hare Krsna, Hare Krsna,Krsna Krsna, Hare Hare,Hare Rama, Hare Rama,Rama Rama, Hare Hare.She sang the verse not once, but repeatedly. We excused ourselves and ran tocatch up with the kirtan party, which had moved farther down the beach.A little later, as we came off the beach onto the boardwalk, we saw a10-year-old boy doing yoga with a collection box in front of him. I wasimpressed. His limbs were so subtle that he was easily performing yogicasanas that only an accomplished yogi might tackle."Where did you learn this?" a devotee asked him."I didn't learn it from anyone," the boy replied. "It came naturally. I justknew how to do it from when I was very young. I try to teach yoga at myschool, but most of the kids aren't interested. They're just into footballor chasing after girls all day. Some of them even take drugs. They're sostupid. I'm alone most of the time. I'm trying to collect money here so oneday I can go to India and learn yoga from a guru in the Himalayas."As we walked away, two verses from Bhagavad-gita came to my mind:"The unsuccessful yogi, after many, many years of enjoyment on the planetsof the pious living entities, is born into a family of righteous people, orinto a family of rich aristocracy.""On taking such a birth, he again revives the divine consciousness of hisprevious life, and he tries to make further progress in order to achievecomplete success, O son of Kuru."[Bhagavad-gita, 6.41,43]After four hours, I brought the Harinam party back to the festival site. Ourprasadam van had just arrived, and the devotees ate with gusto. They thentook a few minutes to rest on the grass before going on to their festivalservices. I marveled at their stamina: after four hours of Harinam they werebeginning five hours of festival duties with only a short break.As I walked close to the stage Bhakta Dominik approached me with disturbingnews."Two nuns were just here, walking around and appreciating the festivalsite," he said. "But when they were told that we are Hare Krsna devoteesthey suddenly became outraged and began cursing us. 'You're a dangeroussect!' one of them screamed. 'You've brought the Devil to our town!'"The other nun yelled, 'God will personally smite you down! He'll punish youand everyone who comes to this festival! We curse you! We curse you thatyour event will be destroyed even before it begins!'"Then they went away. A number of people were watching and some left withthem. It was very unpleasant."I walked around the festival site to be sure all the tents were open and thedevotees in their places. Guests were flooding in, and the opening bhajanonstage was just beginning. The sweet music permeated the entire area,creating a wonderful atmosphere.Suddenly the sound and lights onstage went dead. Our three-ton generator hadground to a halt. Dominik and three boys from the maintenance crew ranbackstage and began working frantically.I was at a loss to understand how a practically new generator could breakdown. After 20 anxious minutes the audience was becoming restless. ThenDominik came over and told me they couldn't find the problem."Dominik," I said, "we've got five hundred people in front of that stage.They'll leave unless we can continue."I sat watching the crowd. Another 20 minutes passed and people started toleave. Suddenly a big puff of white smoke belched from the generator.Dominik, his body half inside the machine, turned and gave me a thumbs-up.Electricity returned to the stage."Start the show," I hollered to the stage crew. Within seconds the bhajanbegan, but moments later the lights failed again.One of the boys from the stage crew called out to me. "Maharaja," heshouted, "should we stop the show?""No," I shouted. "The sound is working. Continue without the lights."It was overcast, making it difficult to see what was happening on the stage,but we had no choice. Dominik and his crew were now under the stage workingon the lighting system. Fifteen minutes later the lights came on again. Butagain the generator stopped, along with the program. Having seen at leastpart of the show, the crowd was graciously patient as the boys workedfuriously to fix the generator. Ten minutes later, it started up again."Nothing like this has ever happened before," I thought. I looked at thethousands of people milling around our festival site, and I prayed that thiswas the end of our difficulties.The very next moment Dominik came running up. "Maharaja," he said, "Iinexplicably left all the CDs for the stage performances back at the base. Isent someone to get them, but it will take two hours."I was dumbstruck. We had no choice but to play CDs from last year. With acapacity crowd the problems that kept appearing were more thandisappointing. I decided not to dwell on them and headed to the restaurant.On the way, I saw a man sitting down, leaning against a trash can. From historn clothes, unshaved face, and sad appearance, I could tell he was ahomeless person. Coming closer, I was surprised to see him drawing abeautiful picture of the festival with colored pencils."You're very talented," I said to him.He looked up. "Thank you," he said. "I draw only the beautiful things of theworld. That way I maintain some hope in my miserable life.""Where did you learn to draw like that?" I asked."It's always been a hobby," he said. "I'm an accountant by profession. I wasonce wealthy with a prestigious job, a beautiful wife, children, and my ownhouse, but I lost everything.""But surely a gifted and intelligent man like you can pick himself upagain," I said."Not if it's my destiny to remain like this," he said. "I hope to havebetter luck in my next life.""Do you believe in reincarnation?" I asked."Yes, I do," he said. "Every day I read the Bhagavad-gita. It's my onlypossession. Many years ago I bought it from someone who was distributingbooks on the street. It had the original Sanskrit, translations, andpurports by Swami Prabhupada. I wasn't really that interested, but I kept itat home. It's the only thing I took with me when everything fell apart. It'sin my backpack in the forest, under a tree.""That's amazing," I said. "Did you know this festival is based upon theteachings of Bhagavad-gita?""I can see that," he said.I excused myself and continued walking to the restaurant. Two hours laterthe same man approached me as I was watching our now fully functional stageshow from a distance."Excuse me," he said. "Someone told me you're the guru.""Yes," I said, "I am the spiritual master for some of these devotees.""Thank you for taking the time to speak to me," he said. "I didn't realizewho you were.""I'm no one special," I said. "I'm just fortunate to have met the person whotranslated the Bhagavad-gita you are reading.""I do feel fortunate to have met you," he said. "I'd like to ask you severalquestions but I have to leave now. Is it possible we could meet at the nextfestival in three days? I know the location.""It's a long way," I said."I'll manage," he said. "It's that important to me.""Then I'll see you there," I said.That evening a devotee asked a question. "Guru Maharaja," he said, "some ofthe devotees are saying that we had so many problems at the beginning of thefestival because the nuns cursed us. Do you think that's true?""That's ridiculous," I said. "Devotees are always protected by the Lord.What's more, this festival is just like Vaikuntha, the spiritual world. Oneobtains only good fortune here. Curses are ineffective."Srila Prabhupada writes:"Because of the curse of Daksa, Narada is never allowed to live continuouslyin one place. Sridhara Swami, however, has pointed out, na tasyam sapadehprabhavah: in Dwarka there is no influence of curses or other such evils,because Dwarka is the abode of the Supreme Personality of Godhead and isalways protected by His arms, as shown by the word govinda-bhuja-guptayam.The conditioned souls are struggling within the kingdom of maya against thecruel laws of material nature, such as birth, death, old age and disease,but if such conditioned souls have the good fortune to enter the city of theSupreme Personality of Godhead, whether Dwarka, Mathura or Vrindavana, andlive there under the direct protection of the omnipotent arms of the SupremeLord, Krsna, they will experience the unlimited transcendental bliss of reallife, which is eternal and meant to be lived in the personal company ofGod."[Srimad-Bhagavatam 11.2.1, purport]
Indradyumna.swami@pamho.netwww.traveling-preacher.com
Audio lectures: www.narottam.com
