Days with no length

Chowpatty Temple: Mumbai: India

I arrived in India almost a month ago. Sometimes I count the days that I have been here in an attempt to make sense of my journey through the rational approach of using the logic of numbers, other times are worse than others, and I like to keep track of much longer I have to be sweating in this heat of reality. 

I can’t remember more than just blurrrrs, the days are all mushed into a large samosa like filling on my plate, an organized lump, left there to swallow at another time, I suppose.

I like my samosas spicy, but my chutney sweet. 

There is one quote Srila Prabhpada says that I contemplate daily:

“Spiritual life is difficult, but material life is impossible.” -Nectar of Devotion

I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t lean on his teachings, but I know I wouldn’t be able to stand. I wouldn’t be able to intake all of the outside world’s rubbish and the “inside” world’s negligence. 

It’s a different era here. An old era present even in the never sleeping, poverty stricken city of Mumbai, where the West’s oil stains and cheap trends are flirting about in the countries move towards “modernization.”

It’s a different era, here, in the ISKCON Chowpatty temple maybe even more so than outside. It’s a place of dignity and standards, of knowledge and practice, and of rules and norms. . .

I obviously don’t fit in. 

Dealing with people within our faith sometimes is the hardest part for me. All of the areas of my daily spiritual practice are affected by it, and I can’t help but want to run and hide or curse Krsna when things are really difficult. 

So, I did. I didn’t go to Mungal artika and Guru puja yesterday, almost missing all of the Bhagavatam class (which I absolutely love here) because I was feeling fitful and angry at Krsna for making spiritual life so difficult for me. 

Silly, even offensive I am sure it was, and I am. I tried and tried to find other feelings and I couldn’t. 

Sometimes I can’t see past the way with people interact or lack to interact with each other, and especially with  me. I just want to sing and dance with everyone! Sway and hum with them, eat and serve them, laugh and smile with them. But I don’t always feel the reciprocation. 

The ways of devotees should be sweet in the same, because devotional life is hot and spicy and it’s messy– it’s scrambled bits and pieces of reflection and experience but done together – making it yummy. 

I can only eat my samosas spicy, if my chutney is sweet. 

 

Ram — a Rama Rama Rama Rama Rama Ram

Ram — a Rama Rama Rama Rama Rama Ram

- Naam Kirtan, The Best Of Mahatma Das

 

 

Advertisement