1991 Contrast

1991 Contrast

Dear Śrīla Prabhupāda, please accept my humble obeisances at your lotus feet, along with this insignificant offering as a feeble attempt at your glorification on this, your Vyāsa-pūjā day.

1. How was it that I …

… toiling under the insurmountable burden of the banyan tree of illusion, decomposing in an insignificant, far-flung planet called home, interned in a cage of bones produced of an infinite maze of unforgivable sins, welded by insatiable lust, fermented of an incredulous ego, whipped by merciless witches, poisoned by pride, blinded by avarice, tied to the vampire of my fate, ever came to hear your transcendental message, which severed the abysmal knots of misery, leading me to a new land …

… fresh new hope …!

… where, wandering the jeweled islands, born of Śrī Rādhā’s separation from Her dark-complexioned friend, Their love eternally engraved in the places of Lord Gaura’s transcendental pastimes, decorated by divine groves of incomparable beauty, among palaces of jewels situated on the banks of the celestial Ganges, where great festivals of Kṛṣṇa saṅkīrtana are always manifest, while great devotees, demigods, and sages are rapt in the pastimes of the Lord, do I constantly meditate on the lotus feet of the dearest of Lord Gaura Hari, who alone delivered me …

… how did this come to pass.…?

… only by the causeless mercy of the atomic rays reflected from the lotus feet of my eternal spiritual master, who entered the gates of Candradoya Mandira, saying, “Back home, back to Godhead,” relishing the “Vaikuṇṭha breezes” in his “place of worship,” Śrīla Prabhupāda.

2. How was it …

… that in the abysmal mud of a social machine conceived in the evil minds of faithless demons, designed in the blood of innocent fools, built in speculative factories of greedy ministers, protected by lasers, computers, harlots, and drugs, operated in cement jungles of skyscrapers and sewers, fueled by the sweat of lusty śūdras, producing violence, anxiety, and fear in the guise of progress … a real society of pure Vaiṣṇavas, full of love and truth, blossoms like a golden lotus …

… whose corolla …

… resides in Śrīdhām Māyāpur, wherein the transcendental authority spreads from the will of Lord Gaurahari through the medium of His Divine Grace, represented through his governing commissioners, disciples, followers, to the thousands of petals that encompass the globe, residence of their own presiding Deities, manifest through Their Divine Grace, served reverentially by countless attendants under the guidance of Vaiṣṇava paramparā, where intersecting petals define the character of unity in diversity and the stem is fixed in the instructions of Śrīla Prabhupāda . . .

… he who is an ocean of mercy …

… well-wisher of all, founder of ISKCON, varṇāśrama visionary, greater-than-any-king Śrīla Prabhupāda … whose name—when we were on parikrama of Śrī Vṛndāvana and were asked by a bearded old Vaiṣṇava “Who is your spiritual master?” and we gave our proud answer—elicited the wide-eyed response “You are the most fortunate people in the world.”

3. Typeset trash …

… newspaper propaganda, lying cheating in the guise of truth, weeklies, monthlies, full-color rags, proud banners of a more arrogant decadence, bulletins and billboards peddling sex, “education” branding malleable hearts with greed, radio and T.V. poisoning the ether, movies and video opiate of the mass, rock and punk the dalliance of Kali, the living gods doctors, scientists, technology’s finest, social vampires draining the blood of anemic humanity … all lies, all ignorance, all madness and illusion, no relief, no hope, none for the damned … only Śrīla Prabhupāda …

… who could glorify…

… the Supreme Lord in countless nectarean verses, saturated with the sweet-thick honey of his spontaneous love for the dear consort of Śrī Kṛṣṇa, concealed in Lord Gaurāṅga’s unfathomable will, hidden from the view of brother Gauḍīyas, transparent to the desire of Śrīla Bhaktivinoda’s empowered son, manifest to the world under the full moon of His desire, vanquishing the scorching sun of Western materialism, voidist dogma, universal impersonal-ism, through the wisdom of the Gītā, siddhānta of Bhāgavatam, rasa of Caitanya-caritāmṛta and other pure songs of devotion … while the world stagnates, glorifying monsters, turtles, muppets, and dogs …

… only Vyāsadeva’s representative …

… empowered pen of the ācāryas, servant of Śrī Rūpa, true son of his own guru, greatest author, poet, philosopher of this age, who toiled through all hardships, heart attacks, headaches, conspiracies, “walked through fire,” to whom Śrī Kṛṣṇa “comes daily and dictates every word … every word,” about whom Mann Gahr, a well-spoken old bābājī, in a mountain āśrama at Varṣāṇā, asked us, “Do you have any of his books? I read them and give them to my friends. We take great guidance and faith. Do you have any?” my great fortune, only pride, Śrīla Prabhupāda.

4. How is it that even now …

… I struggle with drowsiness, inattention, and inability while delighting in the waves of material facility, while anger and envy marshal Mongol hordes, countless anarthas haunting me at every turn, every moment, every place, day and night, a serpentine tongue, acrid and vile, licking stale news, offenses to Vaiṣṇavas, how I delight in such exquisite suicide, dressed in dhotī, decorated with tilaka, freshly shaven sannyāsi-guru, Kali’s chelā, seeking higher posts, acquiring more, tasting less, superficial success, spiritual failure …

… while he …

… the perfect example, pride of the paramparā, unfathomable intellect and unsurpassed preaching spirit, pragmatic “world” ācārya, unfailing inspiration of his followers, the witness within his pictures, continuing support of ISKCON, always eager to reciprocate with preachers, his word heartbeat of book distributors, pure, faultless, humble, renounced, ideal for all, inimitable Śrīla Prabhupāda …

… who said. …

… “Caitanya Mahāprabhu says, By My order you become a spiritual master.’ So one may be very illiterate, no education, no scholarship, may not be born in a brāhmaṇa family or may not be a sannyāsī—there are so many qualifications. But one may not have all these qualifications. He may be rascal number one. But still he can become spiritual master … How?. … if you follow, then you become guru. One may be rascal number one … simply follow … become guru,” and then left, leaving us to reconcile his instructions and example, both perfect, the hearer not.

5. By his grace, eternal father …

… what is impossible for those who follow? … cannot the lost find shelter in the midst of obscurity, cannot the dumb recite Sanskrit eloquent poetry, are not the lame scaling the mountain of a once-impregnable hope, does social disharmony not find its long-lost chord, are obscure euphemisms not dispersed in the sun of Truth, impersonal dogma giving way to a cowherd’s wistful smile, monkeys and bears not becoming the new intelligentsia? what has not happened yet is yet to come, what appears impossible is his followers’ challenge …

… after the testimony of such chivalrous deeds …

… is it not right to hope … that despite innumerable sins, unfathomable obstacles, subtle and gross, the invaluable treasure of pure devotion, gift of him who is glorified herein, reflected in the hearts of great devotees, shining brighter by the fire of ordeal, fanned by the pangs of separation from him, who vowed “Chant sixteen rounds, follow the regulative principles, and you will go back home, back to Godhead, in this life,” stoked by the works of the ācārya, fueled by the dust of Vṛndāvana, forever looming like an inevitable reality, always distant, will by his grace, in some precious time to be worshiped by millions of offerings, inundate this fallen soul, miserable and insignificant, with the nectarean waves of spontaneous attraction to the lotus feet of Lord Gaura Hari? …

… is it not possible?

 Your insignificant servant,
Śivarāma Swami