Many years ago, I went to see a friend who worked in a Temple belonging to our clan. This was a Shree Krishna Temple in a small town called Mahe, and the day in question was a relatively free day. Most evenings, when I pass this temple, where I usually go only to attend some wedding, I hear the ‘Katha Prasangam’ – which were stories from the Bhagavad Gita narrated by some scholar or a Swamiji, which rarely caught my interest . I rarely went here to pray, not that I didn’t believe in Krishna, but because I believed him better in another temple called Guruvayoor, which somehow, perhaps because of its popularity and thronging devotees, made me believe Krishna lived and blessed from there. Consensus gives popularity and if something is accepted without question by many, including your own ancestors, then it must be the truth, I used to think then. This Krishna temple in Mahe, however, was comparatively smaller and was unlike the rich tradition and myth Guruvayoor commanded. However, it was a beautiful temple.
On that day however, I went into this temple to pick up my friend who was to join me and others for an evening round of Rum and Rummy. His boss in the pantry, a distant relative of mine, refused to let him go before his shift got over and I was not in the mood to go and make a request. So I decided to check out the Katha Prasangam, which was attended by a very small group of old and retired people and some children who probably took a stroll with their grandparents in the evening and who was barely paying any attention to what was said, but was having a good time playing in the vast Temple grounds. I thought to myself, I too am a child but I am interested in other games and it’s not time for me for this Prasangam yet., but at that moment, the part where Krishna reveals his true identity to Arjuna, began. This was strangely my favourite part of the entire Krishna story because to me, it was like the part where the Hero triumphs over evil, the archetypal Indian climax. It was the part where the actual action begins; punch dialogues,, guns blaze or the arrows fly and not one will touch the Hero but wipe out the bad guys. Why? Because that’s how it it. Period. Clap clap clap.
But on that day, something different happened, I was sitting in the last row, next to an old man, who was weeping at precisely the moment where Krishna tells Arjuna that He is God and that He is on his side, saying, ‘Let there be no fear, for you are doing my work and no sin shall touch you, for you are only doing your job fulfilling the purpose you were born to fulfill’. I felt really sorry for the old man and didn’t quite understand why he must cry now, the action is yet to begin, because we usually cry in joy when the bad guys are being felled, when the action fills our heart, that Arjuna is unstoppable because God himself is with him. I thought the old man cried earlier probably because he’s heard the story so many times and it didn’t matter at what point he cried. Just as I was looking at him, he turned to me abruptly and told me, ‘Son, if you keep looking at me, you will miss what God is telling, listen up now’. It was almost an order which shook me and I turned my attention back at the stage. Just then, my friend was done for the day and pulled me out. We joined the rest of the gang at our usual place, which was another old and dilapidated temple where we indulged in adolescent debaucheries. I remember thinking of that old man all evening and wondered if he was sad or if he was in joy. I’ll never know.
Much later, one day in my house in Kerala, I was sitting with my grandmother who said she missed my father – her son; and hoped he’d come soon on a holiday. She didn’t read the Gita everyday, but like all grannies in Kerala, knew the story as though it happened in her earlier days. She’d just finished lighting a lamp for her favourite Krishna when she said this to nobody in general. Her eyes were moist and I was in a hurry to leave, to meet up with friends of course. But I stopped to look and wonder why she cried, did mom and she have a disagreement, did she feel she was going to die, did she think my Dad was her Krishna? I sat there, pretending to wear my shoes, but saw her closing her eyes sitting on the old easy-chair her long departed husband had made for her . It was a humid day and it hadn’t rained in many weeks, but then, just as I was ready to leave, it rained. She opened her eyes and wiped off her tears, and thanked her Krishna for the blessing., for she truly believed that the rain was proof God had heard her. My father wasn’t meant to come until a year later, and I just reminded her that, not wanting to burst her bubble but to tell her a reality I knew of. She ignored me and proceeded to help my mom in the kitchen. She found her peace, her sign for happiness, her commune with Krishna. I shook my head and as the rains slowed, which it did almost as soon as it started, I went on with my life.
About 4 years ago, when I reached a cross road in my life, a point where I had to decide between my secure job or follow my heart to pursue spiritual healing and growth. I had to choose between an approved social standing and the tug from my heart; would I listen to my heart or would I continue with the job I hated every day? Many days passed and the tug from my heart grew stronger but the fear to follow it was raging like a storm in my head. What would I do if I failed?
Then one morning, on my way to office I heard a voice telling me to listen carefully. Then I waited and waited..., nothing. I heard nothing and was convinced I was going crazy. I pulled over on the main road and listening to Phil Collins’ ‘Another day in Paradise’ I cried and asked for help. I was running late, but I didn’t care because now I wanted help and I was letting the heaviness of confusion dissipate by surrendering to Him – the Divine Father or Krishna or Muthappan or anyone who was listening. It must have been 15 minutes since my letting go and weeping like a boy, Phil Collins had long moved for someone else I don’t quite remember now, but one line caught my attention. It said, “When you see the first sign; Would you believe”. I wiped my face, rolled down my window and lit a smoke in sheer exhaustion, wondering if that was what I was meant to listen? I took a deep puff and relaxed in my seat, looking at the world around me., people walking about without knowing what I just went through, I thought. Who cares for me or my problems, the world is full of it anyway, and no body cares for what I have in my heart.
Do I not see the woman in a scooter, under the scorching sun, rushing to drop her 2 children to school, precariously perched behind her, in whose mind I don’t exist and who probably suffers the same dilemma; whether to follow her heart and stay at home or run to work? How could my problem be more than hers, when I drive an air-conditioned car, get paid a lot more than her, go to expensive bars and restaurants at will and live in a reasonably up-scale house? Or what about that push cart vendor who suffers the unbearable Chennai sun everyday only to make a fraction of what I get every month, or the guys up on that hoarding frame, pulling a new one about a 100 feet above the ground? They not only bear the heat but must also fight dehydration by drinking water from a road side tap that I wouldn’t even use to wash my feet. Those guys up there didn’t even have a safety harness and if they fell, god knows what kind of emergency medical help they will receive. My life was much better and safer, secure and respectable. But the heaviness in my heart grew stronger and I started wondering if what I was feeling was right. “God, please help”
Just then, Dido with ‘Don’t leave Hope’ came up on my stereo. This was one of my favourite songs and it went like this:
“Like a ghost don't need a key
Your best friend I've come to be
Please don't think of getting up for me
You don't even need to speak
When I've been here for just one day
You'll already miss me if I go away
So close the blinds and shut the door
You won't need other friends anymore
Oh don't leave hope, oh don't leave hope
I arrived when you were weak
I'll make you weaker, like a child
Now all your love you give to me
When your heart is all I need
If you're cold I'll keep you warm
If you're low just hold on
Cause I will be your safety
Oh don't leave hope............”
I don’t know what it did to me, I had heard this song many times before, but this time it was different, it filled my heart and I was listening to Him speak through my speakers. Another bout of tears, this time in deep gratitude and a lot more powerful than anything I have ever felt before. I wept so hard that I started feeling lighter and lighter, I was in touch with the Divine Father, I felt. I had my answer and I regained my Faith to follow my heart; all heaviness vanished and the song was put on continuous loop. When my car moved from there, I knew I was leaving my old beliefs behind and chose instead to hold the hand of God. I was no longer the same man and an important decision was made right then.
As I moved, the guys up in the hoarding pulled up the gigantic screen that was to be the new Ad – it had a small tick-mark and bright blue letters saying to me, “Just Do It”.
Today, three and a half years later, I know I did it. I got exactly what my heart desired, exactly what The Father promised me, not to leave Hope and He will be my safety. For those of you who do not know what I am talking about, I have a job that is a dream come true. I have been running a beautiful retreat, practicing all the spiritual truths I have learnt, witnessing miracle after miracle because I believed. I was being led, I was being taught and I was being trained..., for what, I never asked, but forever grateful for the things I learnt, the experience that made me richer, the trust and faith growing only stronger. I have learnt the lesson of Love and Truth and that is how we serve every guest that walks in here. We are a cocoon of happiness and we don’t remember when was the last time a guest left us unhappy. Before you pass this off as an exaggeration, I urge you to check us out for yourselves. Before you think I am bragging, I gently remind you that this is not my making, but that of the Divine Father, whose guidance was followed. I was merely an instrument and my salary was the learning which transformed my life into one that is filled with promise, joy, peace, health and abundance. My life has never been so perfect.
I guess that’s why now, when he beckons me again, I must move on. Last Saturday, I was asked to move to a place of His choosing, which will not be revealed until I leave. Suffice to say for now, that both Kapila (my wife) and I had visions on the same day morning with precisely the same message – time to move on from ONV. Would we listen to Him when things are going fantastic for us here, when our lives are absolutely on par with dreams?
The last time I jumped off the cliff, I was given wings, and I flew into a life at Our Native Village which nourished my spiritual evolution and enriched my life a thousand times greater than any corporation or business could have. You could argue, why jump when it’s always a downward fall., but I say, to jump one must climb to higher ground and that journey is just as exciting as the jump and once you jump in absolute faith, you no longer fall, but fly, higher and higher to a far more beautiful place, in a lot more exciting journey. I have been called mad and a lunatic before, by friends and family, colleagues and associates, but I’ve learnt to take that as compliment rather than an insult; for if you refuse to listen to the norms of society, and go ahead with the voice in your heart, you have broken the rules and rule breakers are usually the outcasts. So do I do it for some kind of bravado? If I did, I’d have had a miserable life filled with lack, fear and despair, but that is hardly true of how I ended up from my last decision. The last 3.5 years has been a ride I can never forget and most of my nay-saying friends from before, have conceded they were wrong. I do this for me, for I believe I am led and the voice is once again calling. I am here to prove nothing to anyone but I listen when I am spoken to. Like my grandmother who listened and believed her prayers were being answered through a sudden rain, and her son – my father, actually returning from abroad a full 10 months before his actual holiday schedule.
I see myself as a 10 year old boy, holding his Father’s hand tightly, at a theme park, with sparkly curious eyes. My Father knows what ride to take me to, and he gave me the brightly lit carousel for 3.5 years. It was so much fun, riding the wooden horse with many people, laughing, enjoying, happy as a carefree lad, with my Father patiently waiting with Love for me, a Love that I too give and feel. The ride is getting over and I want more, I say I want to continue and He tells me:
“Son, take my hand, there’s more than just a Carousel here for you. Let me take you to the next one which is even more exciting and I promise you will have fun”
I say, “So what’s the next one, dad?”
“That’s a surprise, son, you’ll know if you hold my hand and walk with me now.”
“But the Carousel was fun dad, it gave me everything I wanted, it made me feel safe and I made a lot of friends there. I love them dearly, dad, I feel sad and scared to leave it and my friends will no doubt be sad too.”
“I know son, that’s why I gave you that first, they will love you just as much and will most certainly join you in your next ride, if they too held their Father’s hand and moved on. And the next one is just as fun and safe too. A lot more friends are waiting for you there. Will I ever take you to something that will scare you? I love you very much, Son, and I want you to trust me, the way you did when you first held my hand to the Carousel. Will you trust me, son? Will you believe I know what best to give you and when?”
“How many rides do you have for me, dad?., how are they different from the Carousel?”
“Many and they are all different from each other. But unless we walk from here, we will never get to the next one. And never lose my hand, I don’t ever want to lose you, son, there is nothing more important to me than you in this whole world and I have all the time for you, to take you to every ride in this park to your heart’s content. But promise me, you will listen to me when I call you., to hold my hand when we move.”
“Dad, I will never let go of your hand, I feel the safest when I hold on and I know how much you love me. I am ready for the next ride and I promise to always listen to you.”
And I walk on with my Father, with sparkly curious eyes, itching for the next ride. And somewhere in the park, there is a street play going on and I see the same old man I saw in the Krishna Temple in Mahe. It’s the story of Lord Krishna revealing Himself to Arjuna at Kurukshetra:
‘Let there be no fear, for you are doing my work and no sin shall touch you, for you are only doing your job fulfilling the purpose you were born to fulfil’
I see the old man who now looks at me with tears in his eyes. I hold my Father’s hand tighter and walk on, grinning ear to ear, with a bounce in my step, eyes filled with tears for having listened carefully.
P.S: The Song by Dido mentioned above is actually titled, "Don't leave home" but all these years I heard it as "Hope" and it still worked!"
