New Vrindaban Brijabasi Spirit

By Srila Jiva Goswami dasa

My dear Eyes and Ears; Please accept my worthless obeisances at your lotus feet.

I was (am) one of those guys who read too much of what I can. It wasn’t until 1998 that I realized why I’d never heard anyone say, “Par-a-dijim.” (Paradigm)

Having bumped into “The Bhagavada Gita As It Is,” the way a fool might stumble into a rainbow, I asked, “Is there more?” It seemed Too Good and yes, all Too Wonderful. The Devotees! “Is there more?”

Vahna Prabhu personally gave me his copy of “The Nectar of Devotion.” It was one of those pink original paperbacks. You know the book. It is like a text of Devotee Etiquette, only completely linked with Scripture, and Reason. Srila Prabhupada and His Writing is Divine.

Hare Krsna Hare Krsna Krsna Krsna Hare Hare Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare.

I found myself at Old New Vrindabana, looking around at the Thousands of Devotees; Utta Moj! Along always with the aside, “(He’s amazing!)”

I took Prasadama with the Devotees, noting the Gracious Ways the Devotees Served each other, it seemed to me, in accordance with all that I’d over and over, over-read.

There was one bright eyed specimen, Chedi Shatru. This guy was not overtly sociable. You’d see him over by the “garbage,” with a kerchief tied around his head like a Ninja. His moves were quick too; almost bird like, sometimes. I noticed he never ate with The Devotees, but hung around, outside, waiting to come in … after. I’d read about this: Humility.

Perhaps even … (as he scampered up the side of a hill into the sunlight and trees) … feigning a transcendental madness.

The intensity was no feint. His glasses, when he wore them, were patched with a Band-Aid at one corner. The eyes behind them where white and blue, white and blue, and did not seem to blink.

One day, after noon Prasada, I cleaned my place and then waited. Almost immediately, Chedi came right on in. He began helping himself from the leftover Prasada and Merge. Then, using a sheet of newspaper, for a plate, and two fingers as a spoon, he began to take. He seemed thoughtful, among his elbows and knees.

My heart said, “Renunciate.” I sidled over. “Excuse me,” I tried not to chirp. There was no overt response but a shaking of rice from the fingers. He had heard. He waited. I inched up a little.
“I was just wondering,” I warbled. “Why do you wait until after The Others have gone before you take Prasadama.”

At this he turned to me. His eyes were clear as lights. I remember them now. I knew what I expected: A Transcendental Mystical Educational Enlightening Answer.

In what I saw as the beam from his eyes, bits of my question reverberated faintly “… just wondering … wait … why … after …”

“BECAUSE THE DEVOTEES ARE PIGS!!” he screamed. Flecks of matter sprayed in my direction.

“Oh …” To myself I whispered, “That wasn’t in the book.”

Puzzling back now today Dear Reader, I realize, as a Real Renunciate, Krsna had given the boy Chedi a Perfect way to get rid of another potential distraction.