Volume 7, Chapter 7

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Diary of a Traveling Preacher

 

Volume 7, Chapter 7

 

June 22 - 29, 2006

 

By Indradyumna Swami

 

 

"Jagannath Swami"

 

 

I took a five-week break in America and focused on my health. I exercised

almost every day, rested, and honored healthful prasadam. I kept my

correspondence to the minimum to avoid stress and used the extra time to

study. By the fourth week I had completely recovered and was feeling better

than I had in years. I was ready to return to Poland for our summer festival

tour.

 

Then one morning I received a phone call from my Godbrother Radhanath Swami.

 

"I'd like invite you to join our yatra's pilgrimage to Jagannath Puri in two

weeks," he said. "More than 3,000 of us will be going for the annual

Ratha-yatra parade. I would appreciate it if you could come and lecture and

do kirtans."

 

My first thought was to say no. My heart and soul were already in Poland.

But I paused for a moment and thought about the great spiritual benefit of

going to Ratha-yatra in Puri in the association of Radhanath Swami and his

disciples. Ever since I first heard my spiritual name, Indradyumna das, at

my initiation ceremony 36 years ago, I have had a strong desire to attend

the Ratha-yatra in Jagannath Puri.

 

Indradyumna Maharaja is the famous king who ordered the carving of the

original Jagannath Deities and established Their worship in the temple in

Puri thousands of years ago. The annual Ratha-yatra parade, in which the

Deities of Jagannath, Subhadra, and Balarama are taken from the temple and

pulled by devotees on three magnificent chariots, is renowned throughout the

world.

 

As Radhanath Maharaja continued describing the plans for the pilgrimage, I

glanced at my calendar and saw that the Ratha-yatra was only a few days

before our festival tour in Poland would begin.

 

"It's possible to go," I thought, "but it means arriving back in Poland just

before the first festival. Let me check with Jayatam das and Nandini dasi in

Poland and see if they would agree that I arrive then."

 

I called Jayatam and Nandini, and after some discussion we concluded that

the tour devotees could prepare for the first festival without me. Nandini

even suggested that Jayatam go with me.

 

"He can take photos," she said, "and we can use them for a new exhibit."

 

Two weeks later Jayatam and I arrived in Puri. Ratha-yatra would begin in

two days, and the area was bustling with preparations. After five weeks of

solitude in America, I suddenly found myself in the midst of thousands of

pilgrims converging on Jagannath Puri.

 

I was surprised to find the three gigantic chariots already parked in front

of the main temple. They were decorated with bright mirrors, white yak-tail

whisks, pictures, brass bells, and silk cloth. Crowning the chariots were

colorful canopies and beautiful flags.

 

As I inspected the chariots, a local brahmana told me it took 100 craftsmen

an entire month to construct each one. I estimated that Lord Jagannath's

chariot alone was over 50 feet high and I counted 14 huge wooden wheels on

it. I was even more surprised when the priest told me there was no steering

wheel or brakes on the chariots.

 

"We put logs in front of the chariots to stop them," he said with a smile,

"but actually, it is the will of Lord Jagannath whether the chariot moves or

stops."

 

The following afternoon, we met Radhanath Swami and his disciples at Sweta

Ganga, a small lake in a quiet corner of Puri. When we arrived, Maharaja was

sitting under a huge banyan tree with 3,000 disciples around him. It was

like a scene from antiquity: the guru and his disciples engaged in spiritual

discussions in a holy place.

 

I quietly took my seat next to Maharaja and sat spellbound as he spoke about

the glories of Jagannath Puri. Maharaja has an uncanny ability to relate in

great detail long passages from scripture combined with colorful stories and

anecdotes for many hours. As he spoke, I realized the way to enter into and

perceive the holy dhama is through the descriptions and words of a sadhu.

 

Anticipating huge crowds at the parade, all of us gathered early the next

morning in front of the Jagannath Temple. The area ahead of the chariots was

cordoned by ropes, and hundreds of policemen and soldiers were busy with

security arrangements. I saw army snipers taking their places on the

rooftops. There had recently been bombings in Delhi and temples around the

country, and I had read warnings in a local paper that morning of possible

terrorist attacks during Ratha-yatra.

 

We started kirtan outside the cordoned area while masses of people began to

arrive. Soon the broad, three-kilometer road was packed with pilgrims, and

it became impossible to move. The temperature had already soared to 48

degrees, and with the high humidity, I was finding it difficult to breathe.

I wondered how I could stay for hours in the middle of a crowd estimated at

one million. Suddenly I saw Sriman Pandit dasa, an Indian devotee from

England, waving to me from inside the cordons.

 

"Come quickly," he yelled over the kirtan parties. "I have some VIP passes

for this area."

 

I grabbed Jayatam, and we pushed our way through the dense crowd into the

VIP area. Other devotees followed us.

 

"I was given only five passes for our sannyasis," Sriman Pandit said. "But

now there are more than twenty devotees here."

 

I told Jayatam to separate from the group and start taking close-up shots of

the chariots. I gave him my pass. "If we get thrown out," I said, "at least

you can get pictures for the devotees back in Poland."

 

Sure enough, within minutes the police began rounding us up. "All of you,

out!" shouted an especially bellicose officer.

 

"But we have passes," said a devotee.

 

"It doesn't matter!" screamed the officer. "Out!"

 

Sriman Pandit turned to me. "Many of the pandits [priests] in the temple

don't like ISKCON devotees," he said, "and they have complained to the

police commissioner that we have come to take over the parade, so we've been

ordered to leave this area."

 

The temple already has a strict policy against non-Hindus entering, and

priests have been known to beat the unauthorized. Though such restrictions

are not condoned by scripture, the biased policy was now being enforced

outside the temple as well, on the street, where Lord Jagannath comes to

give His merciful darsan to everyone.

 

Suddenly we were surrounded by security men and pushed toward the ropes. In

the background I saw some of the temple priests laughing.

 

The devotees politely resisted, but the police became increasingly angry and

began to shove us. When we reached the ropes some devotees dove over them or

under them, but in the confusion I found myself pushed up against a rope

unable to move. Just at that moment the policeman who had started rounding

up the devotees arrived in front of me.

 

"Out!" he shouted. "You're white! You're not Hindu!"

 

When he raised his baton to strike me I put my arms up to protect myself.

Suddenly he jumped forward and shoved me backwards, and I rebounded off the

rope behind me and back on to him. He punched me hard in the nose, and I

fell to the ground. I lay there, momentarily dazed.

 

I came to and scrambled to find my glasses on the ground. Then I rolled

under the rope to the other side. Looking back I saw his angry face. I

couldn't hear what he was saying because of the noise of the crowd, but I

could read his lips: "Not Hindu!"

 

I wasn't about to let him spoil my pilgrimage to Puri. I felt thankful that

my nose was not broken, and I shrugged the whole thing off and started

walking back to the ISKCON chanting party in the midst of the crowd. Halfway

there, I met Sriman Pandit again.

 

"Come with me," he said. "I think I can get us back in the secured area."

 

"I'm not so sure I'd like to go back in there," I said.

 

He grabbed my arm and pulled me back under the ropes. From a distance I saw

Jayatam happily taking photos of the chariots from all angles. Suddenly

conch shells and trumpets heralded the arrival of Lord Balaram, the first

Deity to be carried out of the temple. A huge roar arose from the crowd.

Fifty or more priests started banging brass gongs.

 

Within moments Lord Balaram appeared, moved along by many men. It was an

amazing sight. The men would put big cushions in front of the Deity and rock

Him forwards, His huge headdress moving to and fro. It took a full hour to

bring Him from the temple, up the ramp, and onto the chariot.

 

Next the priests came out of the temple carrying Lady Subhadra. "She's a

lady," said Sriman Pandit, "so they carry Her lying down."

 

Just as Subhadra was being carried up the ramp of Her chariot, the police

officer who had punched me saw me again. He rushed forward, but just as he

reached me, a temple priest appeared from nowhere and stepped between us.

 

"Leave him alone," said the priest. "He's a Vaisnava, a devotee of Lord

Jagannath."

 

"He's white," sneered the officer.

 

"That may be," replied the priest, standing directly in front of me, "but

he's a Vaisnava nonetheless."

 

Suddenly they switched to speaking the local dialect and the argument became

heated. But in the end the priest prevailed, demonstrating the power the

brahmanas still wield in Jagannath Puri.

 

"Stand over here with your friends," he said to me. "I will protect you."

 

I was grateful for his intervention and for the fact that I now had a

wonderful vantage point to watch the initial proceedings of the Ratha-yatra.

Looking back, I cringed seeing the massive crowd of a million people packed

together, sweltering in the heat.

 

But they didn't mind. They were all devotees of Lord Jagannath and had come

to take part in His Ratha-yatra. They could easily put up with any

inconvenience. As for me, I was thankful that Lord Jagannath had made other

arrangements for some of us Western devotees not used to such austerities.

 

Finally Lord Jagannath was carried out of the temple and placed on His

chariot with great pomp. It was like watching a scene from a thousand years

ago, as the brahmanas, straining and sweating, rocked the Lord along the

road up to His chariot, accompanied by many others blowing conch shells,

chanting mantras, and waving yak-tail fans. The synchronized banging of 50

gongs was overwhelming.

 

Suddenly, Lord Balaram's chariot started moving as hundreds of pilgrims

pulled the long, thick ropes. The chariot moved quickly and seemed to float

along a sea of people. Every once in a while the chariot would stop and the

kirtan parties would roar with approval, while moving in to get a closer

look at the Deity.

 

The people's enthusiasm was based on the deeper, esoteric understanding of

Ratha-yatra: that they were taking Krsna back to Vrindavan, His childhood

home.

 

The scriptures tell how Krsna, on the plea of killing the demoniac King

Kamsa, left His village of Vrindavan at a young age. Though He promised His

devotees He would quickly return, He didn't, and He eventually settled

further south, in Dwarka, where He reigned as a king with 16,108 queens and

palaces.

 

The deep separation felt by His devotees in Vrindavan is the subject of many

devotional scriptures in India.

 

When Krsna finally met His Vrindavan devotees again, on the occasion of a

lunar eclipse at Kuruksetra, they convinced Him to return to the pastoral

setting of Vrindavan. Placing Him, Balaram, and Subhadra on chariots, they

pulled the Lord back to Vrindavan and into their hearts. The festival of

Ratha-yatra in Puri is a re-enactment of that loving pastime, giving great

joy to devotees.

 

bahira haite kare ratha yatra chala

sundaracale yaya prabhu chadi nilacala

 

"Externally He gives the excuse that He wants to participate in the

Ratha-yatra festival, but actually He wants to leave Jagannatha Puri to go

to Sundaracala, the Gundica temple, a replica of Vrndavana."

 

[sri Caitanya-caritamrta, Madhya 14.120]

 

Eventually Subhadra's chariot left, and half an hour later so did the

massive chariot of Lord Jagannath. Radhanath Maharaja, Sacinandana Maharaja,

and I soon caught up with the ISKCON kirtan in front of Jagannath's chariot.

I will never forget the five-hour kirtan we did along the crowded route on

the way to Gundica Temple.

 

We were exhausted from the heat and humidity, but we were enlivened by the

historic opportunity to chant and dance directly in front of Lord

Jagannath's chariot. I'll never know whether any other kirtan groups wanted

that choice spot, but they never had a chance. The sheer magnitude of 3,000

ISKCON devotees chanting enthusiastically guaranteed us the place.

 

And we took full advantage, as Radhanath Maharaja, Sacinandana Maharaja, Sri

Prahlada, and I traded off leading the kirtan. We were sweating in the heat,

and we drank water by the liter along the way. At one point, I felt I might

not be able to continue. I had not eaten all day and I was tired and hungry.

Suddenly, the temple priest who had protected me from the police officer

appeared and gave me a small plate of maha-prasadam from Lord Jagannath. I

honored it with gusto, and it gave me the strength to continue chanting and

dancing.

 

When we finally arrived in front of Gundica Temple we were the only kirtan

still going strong. By the Lord's grace, I was leading, and I chanted loudly

and from my heart as Jagannath's chariot passed us and stopped in front of

the temple. We kept the kirtan going for another hour and finally moved in

front of the chariot, where we sat down in a group and continued with a soft

bhajan.

 

The chariots remained where they had stopped. The next evening the Deities

would be taken from the chariots and into Gundica Temple.

 

People began climbing up and swarming all over the chariots to take darshan

of Lord Jagannath.

 

"Why not?" I thought, and I also jumped up and started making my way to the

chariots.

 

Sri Prahlada caught hold of my arm and smiled. "Sorry," he said. "Hindus

only."

 

I shook my head. "Lord Jagannath means the Lord of the universe," I said,

"but many of these priests think He is only the Lord of Puri. Everyone in

the universe should have His darsan."

 

I took a deep breath. "Somehow," I said, "today or tomorrow, I'm going to

get up on that chariot and take darsan of the Lord."

 

Late that night we went back to our hotels, exhausted from the long parade,

and we went to sleep.

 

The next day, at 7:00 AM, we went back to the chariots. There were hundreds

of people fighting to climb up the chariots and get close to the Deities.

The priests on the chariots were moving the people along quickly, sometimes

abruptly.

 

"Now is my only chance," I thought. "I've come all the way to Jagannath Puri

at a time when the Lord comes out of His temple. At any other time of the

year it would be impossible for a Westerner like me to have a close darsan

of Him. "

 

I mingled with the crowd of people climbing up Lord Balaram's chariot, and I

managed to pull myself up to the landing around the inner altar, where

people were crowding to have His darsan. I quickly moved forward, but a

priest noticed me, and he moved forward with a big stick raised to hit me.

 

"Only Hindus," he screamed. I quickly turned around and scrambled down off

the chariot. Looking back up, I saw him angrily waving the stick at me.

 

Next I tried Subhadra's chariot. There were fewer people on it, so I managed

to climb up more quickly. On the landing, I went straight for the inner

altar. I managed to get within a few meters of Subhadra when I was again

noticed by a stick-wielding priest. I ran and quickly climbed down the

chariot.

 

I felt frustrated. "I'm not going to have darsan of Lord Jagannath," I

thought.

 

At that moment a priest appeared. "For 100 rupees I'll take you up the

chariot and directly in front of the Deity," he said.

 

"Why not try?" I thought.

 

I gave him 100 rupees, and he led me to the back of Lord Jagannath's chariot

and helped lift me up to where I could get a footing. But as I raised myself

further up, another priest with a menacing look suddenly appeared over the

railing just above me, brandishing an even bigger stick than the previous

priests.

 

I looked back down for the priest I had paid to help me, but of course he

was gone.

 

At that point it was either accept defeat again, or face the stick. But

after all I had gone through I wasn't about to accept either. I yelled out

"Jai Jagannath," leaped over the railing, past the priest and into the crowd

surging towards the Deity. I crawled on my hands and knees so as not to be

noticed, and I was swept forward by the force of the crowd.

 

Bruised and scratched I finally stood up, and to my amazement found myself

standing directly in front of Lord Jagannath. His massive unblinking eyes

stared at me as I wondered what to do next. I didn't have long to act, as

the crowd of pilgrims behind me were pushing and shoving, jostling to get to

the exact spot where I stood.

 

But I was taller than the Indian people swirling around me, and the four

priests guarding the Deity suddenly noticed me. As they simultaneously

raised their sticks to hit me, I realized that because of the crowd I

couldn't move to avoid their blows. I was standing only inches from Lord

Jagannath, so I folded my palms and pleaded, "My Lord, please be merciful."

 

>From the corner of my eye I saw one of the priests appear to have a change

of heart. Smiling slightly, he grabbed my sikha and thrust my head downwards

to the feet of the Deity. Spontaneously, I reached out with my arms and

embraced Lord Jagannath around His lower waist. My arms barely reached

halfway around His transcendental form.

 

I was stunned by my unprecedented good fortune. Although the noise around me

was tumultuous, it seemed for the moment that everything went quiet. "Here I

am," I thought, "embracing the Lord of the universe, whose audience in Puri

any Westerner could only dream of." With the priest pushing my head down

even harder, I tightened my embrace of the Lord and prayed.

 

"My dear Lord," I began, "it is the causeless mercy of my spiritual master

that I have been given this rare opportunity to have Your darsan. Please

purify my heart and awaken my pure devotion to You. At the end of my life be

kind upon me by remembering whatever little service I have done for You, and

take me home to Sri Vrindavan, Your transcendental abode in the spiritual

sky."

 

As I finished my prayer I felt the priest's grip on my sikha loosen, a sure

sign that my darsan of the Lord was finished. But as I raised my head, he

once again caught hold of my sikha and pushed my head back down on the feet

of the Deity.

 

"A chance for one more benediction," I thought.

 

I tightened my hold on the Lord. "My dear Lord," I prayed, "I also ask You

for the privilege of always distributing Your mercy to those less fortunate

than I. Be kind and look favorably on our efforts to preach Your glories

through our festival program in Poland for many years to come."

 

Suddenly the priest yanked my head up, and I again found myself standing

before the angry brahmanas. I shook my head and freed myself from the grip

of the priest. I fell to the ground and quickly moved out of the area on my

hands and knees. As I approached the railing I saw yet another priest with a

stick. "I won't even mind if he hits me," I said laughing. "I got so much

mercy today."

 

I avoided him and was soon scaling down the side of the Ratha-yatra chariot.

When I reached the bottom, I turned and offered dandavats to Lord Jagannath

on the ground.

 

The next day, as Jayatam and I took a taxi to Bhubaneswar for our flight

back to Poland, I thought about on the unbelievable experience I'd had in

witnessing the Ratha-yatra festival of Puri. But most of all, I wondered at

the mercy I'd received from Lord Jagannath Himself. No doubt it was meant as

an inspiration to increase my service to His lotus feet. And that service

was clear: I was returning to Poland to share my good fortune with all those

who would attend our summer festivals.

 

As we approached the city limits of Puri, I looked back and prayed that I

would never forget Lord Jagannath's special mercy upon me.

 

ratharudho gacchan pathi milita bhudeva patalaih

stuti pradurbhavam prati padam upakarnya sadayah

daya sindhur bandhuh sakala jagatam sindhu sutaya

jagannathah svami nayana patha gami bhavatu me

 

"When Lord Jagannath moves along the road on His Ratha-yatra car, at every

step large assemblies of brahmanas loudly chant prayers and sing songs for

His pleasure. Hearing their hymns, Lord Jagannath becomes very favorably

disposed towards them. He is an ocean of mercy and the true friend of all

the worlds. My desire is that Lord Jagannath Swami, along with His consort

Laksmi, who was born from the ocean of nectar, be the object of my vision."

 

[sri Jagannathastaka, Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu]

 

Indradyumna.swami (AT) pamho (DOT) net

 

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