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Will
of Providence - Vyasa-puja Offering
By Visoka
dasa
Dear
Srila Prabhupada,
All
glories to you.
We
think we have met your goodness by the will of providence just so that we may
accept you as captain of the ship for those who desire to cross the difficult
ocean of Kali. (SB 1.1.23)
You
are the eternal captain of the lotus ship of Lord Caitanya's mercy. We were so
fortunate that you picked us up from the ocean of maya and gave us shelter
aboard your ship. This ship named "ISKCON" was plying smoothly through
the treacherous waters of Kali-yuga, with your beautiful vapu and your eternal
vani always there to help us weather the various storms of maya. We held on for
dear life to your dhoti and battened down the hatches, and although you warned
us of the power of the ocean of maya, sometimes to our great sorrow, a mate
would lose his grip and be swept off the deck into the waters, lost again to the
sea. You said that we have declared war on maya, and sometimes there would be
causalities.
When
the storms subsided, we would host over the harinam-sankirtan lifeboats, and
thus we would venture out into the sea of Kali and proclaim the glories of Lord
Sri Krishna with loud banners and cheers. We threw out lifesavers, in the forms
of BTG's and your transcendental literatures and mantra cards to the suffering
souls of the sea, scooping up the lost swimmers, and often by your potency, we
would reel in a few floundering souls and take them back to the ship.
Many
a time we would look out on the horizon and see some ship mates riding their
surfboards, merrily skiing on the waves, as your ship plied smoothly through the
murky waters. These souls were exercising their constitutional natures of being
of the tatasva-sakti category, or the "marginal potency." Thus they
were demonstrating their intrinsic "marginal potency" by regulating
their activities to the peripheral boundaries, or keeping themselves on the
marginal fringe of devotional activities. They would try to squeeze out a few
more drops of fleeting pleasure from the vast waters of Maya, and simultaneously
hold on for dear life to their lifelines, and then some times they would haul
themselves back up on deck whenever there was a feast or major appearance day.
After a sumptuous feast and a little "left side down" they would swab
the decks for a while and then sneak back out to their surfboards. Someone
pointed them out, saying, "Look at the surfers, Srila Prabhupada," and
you sagely corrected him, "sufferers," and we all grinned at each
other.
Sometimes
we anchored in coral reef bays and played water sports in tranquil waters. We
would sooth our parched desert-like tongues with the flow of the nectarine
Ganges waters of Lord Caitanya's transcendental pastimes. In those
transcendental lagoons were lotus flowers of singing, dancing and loud chanting
of Krishna's holy name, our only abode of transcendental pleasure. All the
devotees were like swans, ducks and bees, as the ever-flowing Ganges water of
harinam-sankirtan produced a melodious sound that gladdened our ears. Sometimes
we held great festival days with huge colorful tents and lavishly decorated
boats, headed up by your stalwart devotees, Jayananda Prabhu and Visnujana
Swami. Sometimes, the monkeys swinging in the trees would distract us, and you
would always save us from such monkey business with your nectarean instructions.
And
then all-powerful Kala wielded His razor sharp revolving disc, and our merry
sailing eventually came to naught. The storm squalls came, tyrannous and strong,
chasing us down along, down into ice-cold dooms of stagnation. As we would read
in your eternal books, "Everyone is sleeping in the darkness of Kaliyuga,
but when there is a great acharya, by his calling only, everyone takes to the
study of the Vedas to acquire actual knowledge," and you said that when
that great acarya leaves the planet, then chaos ensues, and so that came to
pass.
That
great storm hit full force, and some slipped and fell out into the dark waters.
Then a great calm ensued and a dark overcast shrouded the sky. Engulfed in dense
darkness, we huddled down below deck, our frames trembling, while the
omen-bearing Albatross lay lifeless on deck. We were struck down, dead in the
water, idle as some painted ship on a painted sea. There was heard a faint
peg-leg tapping, marking time on the deck, and someone faintly whispered
"Ahab." And someone else said, "illusory whales." A faint
flickering apparition of some yellow-stool Doubloon caught our eyes, and many a
rumor harkened of the harbinger of death, the white monster of the sea, which
could destroy an entire ship with a single blow. You always said that
destruction could only come from within. And so fear and trembling overcame us
running, as we forgot your blessed vani and your dear Lord Sri Krishna too many
times, and the Albatross of ill-luck hung round our necks.
Then
the golden forms of Lord Caitanya and Lord Nityananda came dancing across the
path of our weary eyes, the two brothers shining as brilliant as the moon and
sun rising simultaneously on the eastern horizon, chasing away all darkness from
our hearts. And then you appeared again as the two Bhagavatas, the book
Bhagavata and the person Bhagavata, and you and your books once again illumined
our collective hearts, and we took courage to man the ship and plough on through
the darkness, steering out for the dawn of light once again. Again to man the
life boats and lifesavers, again pulling aboard drowning souls, again the bird
o' luck flew, and again your life-breath filled our lungs, and again we saw you
Srila Prabhupada as our eternal captain and dear most friend. Again sacred
service you gave. Again we all proclaimed in loud voices singing, Jaya Srila
Prabhupada, Jaya Srila Prabhupada, all glories unto you, all glories unto you,
our eternal captain of the ship, Jaya Jaya Srila Prabhupada, all glories to you,
all glories to you!
Your
lowly servant, Visoka dasa
© CHAKRA 29-Nov-2003
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