...it was 24 hours since we'd heard the news from India.
Simple things took an unusually long time to accomplish.
I felt like i was moving underwater. Slow motion
i watched the rain for hours,
checking facebook again and again,
looking for pictures,
then unable to look.
and i remembered 1977, November11. ahhhhhhhhhhhh - no, not those thoughts!
I knew this kind of grief was not going to go away. No use dodging it, or numbing it, or stuffing it somewhere-anywhere.
It took hours to get into the car. I drove mindlessly. I had no idea what time it was. When i got there no other cars were around. Had I got the message wrong? Did it matter? So dark. No street lamps. My mind chanted, "He reasons ill who says that vaisnavas die. He reasons ill..."
...and then
... Oh, but there they were,
the devotees.
red eyes,
swollen.
snake-bite poisoned
by the shock,
the loss...
quiet bhajans began,
Tears held the base line,
Our sorrowful hostess began to speak then another and another and each of us got a turn and no one could stop. Another once around. Another turn. One more story. One more pastime. My turn! Time giggled. It was impossible to find or fathom or imagine an end to Srila Gurudeva's glories. It was impossible to find or fathom or imagine an end to our relationship with him.
and all grief was gone,
and it was time for aroti.
The antidote was found:
A festival of remembrance!
satatam kirtayanto mam yatantas ca drdha-vratah
namasyantas ca mam bhaktya nitya-yukta upasate
BG9:14
That's the bhakti way!
ys, gopa.
