The Past, Present, and Future

[Guest guest]

For those of you have not seen this yet, here it is. As one devotee

commented:

 

"This is wonderful propaganda for furthering the cause of the validity of

Jyotish amongst those devotees who continue to hold onto a negative

conception of Jyotish regardless of what Srila Prabhupada has said in that

regard. It's also another amazing story."

 

 

__________

 

Diary of a Traveling Preacher

 

Volume 6, Chapter 20

 

By Indradyumna Swami

 

November 9 - 15, 2005

 

 

"The Past, Present, and Future"

 

 

Before leaving Vrindavan for the West, I told Sri Prahlada das that I wanted

to take darsan of the famous Deity of Sri Nathji, in Rajasthan. The Deity

was discovered on Govardhan Hill by a great devotee, Madhavendra Puri, more

than 500 years ago, before the advent of Lord Caitanya Mahaprabhu. The Deity

was later moved from Vrindavan to Nathdwar, not far from the present town of

Udaipur.

 

"That would be wonderful," said Sri Prahlada. "At the same time we could

visit a famous astrologer a few hours away in the desert. He is known as a

Brighu because he reads one's future from the Brighu Samhita."

 

"Can he really predict the future?" I asked.

 

"Oh yes," replied Sri Prahlada. "The science of Brighu Samhita is still

valid. Srila Prabhupada confirmed this. At the end of Dwapara yuga, Brighu

Muni was concerned that in Kali yuga many astrologers would not be

qualified, so he wrote down everyone's chart and included past, present, and

future lives.

 

"Copies of those charts are kept safely in four different places in India.

When you visit a Brighu, you see written in your chart that you would come

on that very day for a reading."

 

"That very day?" I said.

 

"Not only the day but the hour too," Sri Prahlada said.

 

I went to my room and searched through Srila Prabhupada's books and lectures

on the Vedabase, and to my amazement found the following quotation:

 

"How one can understand past, present, future? Through the sastra ...There

are still astrological calculations in India called Brighu-samhita. If you

consult Brighu-samhita, immediately they will give you your past, present

and future. Immediately they will give. The astrology science is so perfect.

What you were in the past life, what you are at the present and what you are

going to be. These three things can be known."

 

[srila Prabhupada, Srimad Bhagavatam class, Dallas, July 29, 1975]

 

That evening I met Sri Prahlada again. "You know," I said, "I think I'll

take you up on that proposal to visit the Brighu."

 

"Really?" said Sri Prahlada.

 

"Yes," I said. "I'd be interested to see what opportunities for devotional

service lie ahead for us this coming year."

 

Two days later, Sri Prahlada, Bimal Prasad das, Dhruva das, and I arrived in

Udaipur. After settling in, we took a one-hour taxi ride through rolling

hills to the village of Nathdwar, where we visited the temple of Sri Nathji.

It was less crowded than when I was there five years ago, and we enjoyed a

wonderful darsan.

 

That afternoon we hired a taxi and drove further into the desert. After four

hours we reached an old, dusty village in what seemed like the middle of

nowhere.

 

"How in the world are we going to find the Brighu in this place?" I asked.

"There are no street signs, what to speak of house numbers."

 

"The local people will know him," Sri Prahlada replied. He opened the window

and asked in Hindi for directions from a passing rickshaw driver.

 

"The Brighu's house is two streets down, on the corner," said Sri Prahlada,

as he closed the window.

 

As we drove on, I saw an old man in a dhoti, standing on a porch, looking in

our direction.

 

"That must be the place," Sri Prahlada said.

 

"How can you be sure?" I asked.

 

"Because the Brighu is waiting for us," he said.

 

"Waiting for us?" I said.

 

"Yes," he said. "It's in our charts that we'll be arriving this morning."

 

A shiver went through my body.

 

We stopped in front of the house and got out. The old man came forward to

greet us.

 

"You're right on time," he said with a smile.

 

I looked at Sri Prahlada. "Right on time?" I said.

 

Sri Prahlada winked.

 

The old man invited us into his small house and brought us into a room lit

by a small kerosene lamp. I saw old pictures of saints and sages on the

wall, and I asked Sri Prahlada about the most prominent one, a white-bearded

sadhu sitting with a large book in his lap.

 

"Brighu Muni," Sri Prahlada whispered.

 

"Please write down your place of birth, the date, and the time," the old man

said to me.

 

Then he reached into an old wooden box and pulled out some papers. He placed

one in front of me.

 

"Close your eyes," he said, "and put your index finger on one of the

diagrams on the sheet."

 

I hesitated for a moment, then closed my eyes and put my finger squarely on

the paper. When I opened my eyes, I saw I had touched the center of one of

approximately 20 circles. In the middle of each circle were various designs

and what seemed like numbers.

 

The old man quickly took the paper and checked the clock on the wall. Then

he took a small blackboard and chalk and started writing down various

calculations. He reached behind himself and brought forward a cloth, untied

it, searched among another pile of papers, and carefully selected one.

 

Then he sat up straight and started reading from the old paper.

 

"You were born in America," he said loudly.

 

"Well that's obvious," I thought. "I just wrote it down."

 

"Your father died when you were 17 and your mother when you were 47," he

continued.

 

I looked at him in surprise.

 

"You left your country of birth when you were a young man and have been

traveling the world ever since in the mission of your guru. You have many

places to live, but you don't stay anywhere. You are always traveling. You

were married and had one son, but you left your family to become a

sannyasi."

 

He broke out in a big grin. "You are much happier as a sannyasi than you

were as a married man."

 

His expression became serious again.

 

"Your brother has had a very difficult life. He is presently living with a

woman, but he is not married to her. He will not benefit you, but you will

benefit him greatly."

 

I sat dumfounded, staring at him.

 

"You chant the name of Krishna daily," he said, "and you worship your own

set of Deities as well. You have written at least five books to date and you

will write many more."

 

I didn't hear the last part of the sentence clearly. "Many more?" I asked.

 

"Yes," he said, "and whatever you write will be published twice."

 

"Published twice?" I said.

 

I looked at Sri Prahlada. He thought for a moment then smiled. "The

internet," he said, "You send your diary chapters out on the internet, and

at the end of the year they are published in book form."

 

"This is amazing," I said.

 

"Your health is generally good because you eat simple foods," the Brighu

said, "but you eat too many sweets."

 

He looked up. "You should stop eating sweets," he said firmly.

 

"He's not here to flatter you," said Sri Prahlada. "He's just reading what

Brighu Muni wrote."

 

"You must be careful while riding in cars," the Brighu said. "Once you were

hit by a car and nearly killed. Is that true or not?"

 

"Yes." I said slowly. "It's true. In South Africa, in 1992, I was hit by a

car and spent many months in bed recovering."

 

He returned to the reading. "Your most valuable possessions were stolen last

year," he continued.

 

I turned to Sri Prahlada. "I think he's got it wrong on that one," I said.

Sri Prahlada seemed tired of my obstinacy. "Remember how all your Deity

paraphernalia was stolen by the skinheads in Poland in June 2004?" he said.

 

"Wow," I said. "That's right."

 

I was convinced, and I turned submissively to hear more.

 

The old man looked up, stared at me, and then looked down again at the

paper. "One thousand years ago," he said, "you were a king in Karnataka. You

were very wealthy and distributed much of your wealth to hospitals, schools,

and temples. At end of that life you retired to the forest.

 

"In your previous birth you had two wives. At the end of that life you

prayed, 'If I take birth again I don't want to be a grhastha. I want to be a

sannyasi and devote all my life to God.' So in this birth you took sannyasa

at the age of 29. Correct?"

 

"Yes sir," I replied. "Correct."

 

"It is the result of your previous actions and desires," he said. "In this

birth you'll get immense blessings from your spiritual master. Because your

chosen path is bhakti you won't take birth again. You'll be liberated at the

end of this life. You'll live into old age, and you'll die a natural death.

You won't die from a prolonged illness."

 

I turned to Sri Prahlada. "Well if this all comes true," I said, "I'll do my

best to use such fortune in the service of the Lord."

 

"All your friends will be good people," the Brghu continued.

 

"Part of my good fortune," I said to Sri Prahlada with a smile.

 

"From this point on, your affluence will increase day by day," the Brighu

said. "Later in life you'll construct a large temple for Radha and Krsna.

The worship will be gorgeous. If the government tries to impede your

efforts, you'll be victorious over them. At the same place you'll construct

a goshala for cows. There will be a gurukula and perhaps an orphanage as

well."

 

He smiled. "Many children will come to you," he said.

 

"How will I accomplish all that?" I blurted out.

 

He looked closely at the paper. "Your disciples will help you," he said.

"They will raise the funds. They will have some kind of import-export

business."

 

I must have looked a little surprised.

 

"Brighu has written!" he said strongly.

 

"Later you will also work in the field of medicine, Ayurveda," he said.

"You'll make medicines and give them to people, and they'll become healthy.

In your old age you'll become famous for that."

 

I looked at Sri Prahlada with raised eyebrows.

 

He looked at the paper again and started nodding his head. "It is said here

that you will develop your service in four countries," he said. "What is

your present service?"

 

"I have a big festival program in Poland," I said.

 

"You'll take it to three other countries," he concluded.

 

"How in the world will that happen?" I whispered to Sri Prahlada.

 

"It's written in the stars," Sri Prahlada said, "and one day you'll see how

it all comes to pass."

 

"We are now coming to the end of the reading," the old man said. "It says

here that you'll spend time in Vrindavan, Mathura. Do you know that place?"

 

"Yes, of course." I replied.

 

"After your 66th year you'll settle there and chant the holy names. Nothing

else. You won't care if you eat or not. From time to time you'll visit other

places for service, but you'll always come back. Do you have any questions?"

 

I was stunned by his accuracy, and I had to think for a moment. "How long

will my companion Sri Prahlada and I be together?" I asked.

 

He looked at the paper. "Until you die," he said. "Sometimes he'll go away

to do some other service. It is written in the chart that you four people

would come together on Chaturdasi, Monday, and that your reading would begin

at 2:00 PM and end at 3:00."

 

I motioned to Sri Prahlada to look at the paper. He leaned over and

carefully studied the Sanskrit. "From what I can make out, that's what it

says," said Sri Prahlada.

 

"Who's next?" said the Brighu.

 

"Sri Prahlada," I said and moved out of the way.

 

Four hours later, after we all had our readings, we left and got back into

our taxi.

 

"He said my present service would expand to three other countries," I said

to Sri Prahlada.

 

"Yes," said Sri Prahlada, "he did say that."

 

"It's hard to imagine," I said, as I closed the door of the taxi. "It's a

summer event. There's not time to do two countries in July and August, what

to speak of four."

 

I didn't tell anyone in Vrindavan about our meeting with the Brighu. It was

too incredible. I busied myself with last-minute shopping for our festival

program in Poland, but on the last day in the market, a disciple turned to

me. "Guru Maharaja," he said, "why do you keep ordering extra items on your

list? What will you do with all of it?"

 

"Well, we may need it," I said. "You never know. Maybe one day we'll do our

festival program in some other country besides Poland."

 

The disciple raised his eyebrows. "You think so, Guru Maharaja?" he said.

 

The next day I flew to Warsaw and had two days of meetings with Nandini dasi

and Jayatam das about our summer festival tour in Poland for 2006. Then I

caught a flight to Buenos Aires. My Godbother Lokavardhana prabhu had

invited me to attend their fifth annual Ratha Yatra festival.

 

It was my first visit to Argentina. When I arrived Gunagrahi Maharaja picked

me up. On the way to the temple he filled me in on the history of the yatra.

He was excited, as they were just about to sign for a beautiful new temple

in the city.

 

"You'll like it down here," Maharaja said. "The people are pious and

soft-hearted, and the devotees love kirtan."

 

I didn't have to wait long to appreciate Maharaja's words. When we arrived

at the temple a blissful kirtan party greeted me and escorted me into the

temple room, chanting and dancing all the way. The kirtan continued in the

temple room. "It's a fact," I thought. "They do love kirtan."

 

Afterwards, in my room, I asked one of the older devotees to tell me more

about the Argentine yatra. As he spoke, I was amazed how much opportunity

there was for spreading Krsna consciousness. It seemed so different from

Poland, where the government is hostile toward our movement and where the

Roman Catholic Church gives us endless problems.

 

"We maintain a farm just outside the city," he said, "and we have a Food for

Life program, a restaurant called Krishna, a weekly Harinam in the center of

Buenos Aires, and numerous Nama Hatta centers. Now we are planning a yoga

center and seminar programs in our new temple."

 

"Seems like the only thing you're missing is a traveling festival program,"

I said.

 

I had meant it as a joke, but as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I

realized what I had said. The devotee grabbed the opportunity. "Yes," he

said, "that's exactly what we need, Maharaja. Why don't you come here and do

it? Argentina is the perfect place for festivals, and you're the right

person to do it."

 

I shook my head to say no.

 

"The summer is only so long ...," I started to say.

 

"Maharaja," he said, "you must be tired from jetlag. When it's summer in

Poland, it's winter here. And when it's winter in Poland, it's summer here."

 

"That's true," I said. I thought about it for a moment, envisioning myself

having to double my fund-raising, start a program from scratch, and struggle

to maintain it.

 

"But it will take years to build up," I said.

 

"No it won't," the devotee said. "There's an Argentine devotee, Ekanath

Gaura das, who visited your festival program in Poland two years ago. He's

now doing a similar program, but much smaller, in Peru and Bolivia. I'm sure

he'll agree to work with you to organize a big summer festival program here

in Argentina."

 

He handed me a piece of paper. "Here's his email address," he said.

 

I was intrigued by the idea. I reached for my computer and immediately sent

Ekanath Gaura an email.

 

Thirty minutes later he replied. "Maharaja," he wrote, "whatever experience

or inspiration I have is due to you and my Guru Maharaja. Although I have

studied organizing events in university, all my practical experience is from

watching you. What can I say? I am delighted with your proposal. This coming

summer I'm committed to doing my festival in Ecuador, so let's do Argentina

in January 2007."

 

After consulting with Gunagrahi Maharaja, I answered the email. "It's a

deal," I wrote. "Please come here next week, and we'll discuss everything in

detail."

 

After sending the email, I sat back in my chair. Everything was moving so

quickly. I had just arrived in Argentina and had committed myself to doing a

major festival program.

 

My head was spinning from the jetlag, and I was exhausted. I excused myself

and lay down to rest. As I drifted off to sleep I smiled, remembering Sri

Prahlada's words: "It's written in the stars, and one day you'll see how it

all comes to pass."

 

In the morning, I came across a conversation from the Vedabase:

 

Graham Hill: "By looking at ourselves can we [understand] the sort of person

we were before?"

 

Prabhupada: "Yes. There is the Brighu Samhita [an] astrological calculation.

You can know your past life, present life and future life. That is the

system, Brighu Samhita."

 

[srila Prabhupada, room conversation with Graham Hill, August 26, 1973.

London.]

 

Indradyumna.swami (AT) pamho (DOT) net

 

www.traveling-preacher.com

Official website for Diary of a Traveling Preacher

 

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