By Ananta Gopal Das | Head Pujari (Priest) at Bhaktivedanta Manor
Gaura Purnima is a festival that celebrates “giving” and sharing mercy. Chaitanya Mahaprabhu appeared 539 years ago to give everyone an equal chance to attain Goloka Vrindavan, irrespective of background, profession, or gender.
This week, we celebrated Gaura Purnima at Bhaktivedanta Manor. My service began at 4:30am, and by the time I finished service, it was 9pm.
Preparing for the festival, decorating the shrine, managing the people, meeting the guests, serving the devotees, ensuring worship standards are not compromised, and trying to meditate on the meaning of the festival are some of the activities I was doing on the day.
A few days after the festival, I walked in the local village to hide away from everyone and charge my batteries in nature. On my way to the forest, a brand-new blue-coloured Tesla car stopped in front of me, and an English gentleman dressed in a matching blue suit emerged from the vehicle. He was in his mid-fifties, tall with carefully combed, slightly greyish hair.
“Hey, sir, may I ask you a question?” He walked towards me whilst leaving the doors of the car open, his wife with dark sunglasses inside the car, carefully observing him.
“Yes, of course!” I replied.
“Are you from the temple? I used to practice Buddhism for ten years, ” he said, extending his right hand to shake mine.
I took my hand out of my japa mala bag and shook hands with him.
“Yes, I’m a monk from the temple,” I replied.
The man shared his life as a Buddhist and the mantra that he used to chant. I briefly explained my service at the temple and shared with him the mantra I chant.
Whilst we spoke, his wife patiently waited in the car. After 15 minutes, she joined the conversation. She used to practice breathing exercises and meditation and has some understanding of Ayurveda.
“You have good vegetarian food,” she added, removing her dark sunglasses.
“Where are you going now?” the gentleman asked.
“I’m going to the forest to charge my batteries,” I replied.
I gave him an analogy of the golden cup in the heart.
“We all carry a golden cup in the heart. When full of bhakti, it keeps us healthy, enthusiastic, and inspired in our spiritual practice. If the cup is empty, we struggle in our sadhana and service. I’m going to fill my cup with bhakti again. And the surplus, I will share with others!”
“That’s wise,” he replied.
Before we concluded our conversation, I shared more details about the temple and our philosophy with him.
As he drove away, I continued to walk to the forest, remembering a prayer from Srimad Bhagavatam
Srimad Bhagavatam 10.2.31: O Lord, who resemble the shining sun, You are always ready to fulfill the desire of Your devotee, and therefore You are known as a desire tree [vāñchā-kalpataru]. When ācāryas completely take shelter under Your lotus feet in order to cross the fierce ocean of nescience, they leave behind on earth the method by which they cross, and because You are very merciful to Your other devotees, You accept this method to help them.
Ananta Gopal Das