Feasting in the Dead of Night
My body is broken, therefore I visualize! Despite all the setbacks, I am feeling bliss ... most of the time, if providence allows. [fingers crossed] Varsana Maharaj once told me, “Sometimes we find ourselves in a broken vehicle, [body] which, sometimes can be a blessing in disguise.” :))))
So! Now I begin my visualization! I find myself situated in a remote forest, walking along a path decorated nicely with exotic flowers, their celestial aromas percolating in the air. The scenery is replete with snow-capped mountains all about me, and what do I see? Oh, I see a tall man walking in the distance, I strain my eyes to focus, yes! It is he, my dear friend! His golden aura is shining, lighting up the horizon with a reddish hue, Jayananda is coming my way!
Memories are flooding my mind, like pictures in a slide show ... my eyes pour forth an ocean of tears, seeing him slide off his bed, as he bows down, we exchange obeisances as his forehead touches the floor, I try to see him through a flood of tears, knowing this is the last time I’ll see him on this earth ... there is emotional devastation all over my quivering body...
I am shaken from my reverie, as Jayananda lifts me up, and as we embrace, we both say Hare Krishna, and his warm touch soothes the tremors in my body.
“Thank you Jayananda prabhu,” I managed to say, “for joining me in my visualization. I have longed for your personal association for so many years, and now it is here, I am finally home! You can teach me so many things, how to fully surrender to Lord Sri Krishna, how to beg entrance into Vrndavan dhama, where I can enjoy transcendental association with my long lost brother.” :)))))))))
“How are you?” I ask Jayananda, “Wait a minute, prabhu, how stupid of me to ask that question! You are serving Krishna without the passage of time, and you are sat-cit-ananda, eternally full of bliss and knowledge, and I’m asking how are you? Duh! ha ha ha [we both laughed on that one]
“Ok prabhu, we are eager to serve, what shall we do? I really miss our old temple in San Francisco, let’s do something there.”
“Serve our temple,” said Jayananda, “that is a good place to start ... you visualize the temple, and I will add details, here and there.” [Thus we are mentally teleported to California]
“Why are the streets are so quiet!” pondered Jayananda, “It’s a warm San Francisco night, and the streets are vacant, where is everybody? Oh look, there’s the temple up ahead, how I love the sign posted above the door, “Sri Sri Radha-Krishna Mandir.”
“Well, Jayananda prabhu, here we are,” I said, “It’s been so many years, and the temple looks exactly the way it did so many years ago, every detail is the same, nothing has changed.”
“The spiritual replica of the Valencia Temple, will never change,” said Jayananda, “the temple building and all the devotional activities performed there, they are all eternal. The floor that held the lotus feet of Srila Prabhupada, it is eternal, and the walls and furniture, the kitchen and the pots and pans that prepared bhoga for Lord Krishna, they are all eternal. Everything that Srila Prabhupada came in contact with, becomes eternal.”
Jayananda smiled at me as we entered the front door and passed through an empty lobby, and then I opened the temple door for Jayananda, and we entered an empty temple room ... and we rang the overhead bell softly, and fell flat on the floor, offering our obeisances to Srila Prabhupada.
“Let’s try to be quiet!” whispered Jayananda, placing a finger to his lips, “the devotees are sleeping!
“I love these paintings,” said Jayananda, “Here is the foolish Paundraka, with his phony disc, and Krishna is getting a good laugh ... and here is Krishna and Balarama returning from the forest.”
“All the devotees are in bed, sound asleep and dreaming of Krishna and Srila Prabhupada,” said Jayananda, “let’s see what the kitchen is like ... oh, as usual, it needs a little extra cleaning, the devotee cooks must have been exhausted, so we will help, I will clean the stove and the floor, and you will...”
“I’ll scrub some pots, oh, there’s a mountain of pots, they just need a little elbow grease.”
[to be continued]
# Taken from tentative chapter to “Jayananda Thakur volume 3”