Prabhupada has been described as a poet. It seems he greatly appreciated Canakya’s Sanskrit poetry, even though Canakya wasn’t in our sampradaya, and wasn’t even a Vaisnava. One of Prabhupada’s favorite Canakya slokas was that a human being with a recalcitrant or disobedient servant, a “prostitute” wife, or a deceitful friend is tantamount to living in a room with a poisonous snake. The verse goes something like this: dusta bharya satham mitram bhrtyas cottara…, and sasarpe ca grhe vaso, mrtyur eva na samsayah.

Markandeya Rsi was curious to know exactly how Maya worked. He asked the Lord to show him. Almost at once there was a great downpour, and waves began to flood his hermitage. Soon they completely enveloped his home and he entire planet. Long-living Markendeya struggled for eons in giant waves and severe winds, but miraculously stayed afloat and alive for millions of years. Finally, when he thought his exhaustion might spell death, he encountered an island oasis. There, Krsna, as an infant on a huge leaf of a banyan tree, inhaled him into His body. Markendeya saw the entire universe before Krsna exhaled him back out onto the ocean. Shortly thereafter, the waters of devastation subsided entirely, and Markandeya found himself sitting peacefully in his asrama just as when he first asked about Maya. This was the lesson he learned about the Lord’s illusory energy.

One has to be empowered by the Lord to spread devotional service. Otherwise it will not be possible. Therefore we have to constantly beg for His Mercy. CC Antya 7.11 says: kali-kalera dharma–krsna-nama-sankirtana, krsna-sakti vina nahe tara pravartana. “The fundamental religious system in the Age of Kali is the chanting of the holy name of Krsna. Unless empowered by Krsna, one cannot propagate the sankirtana movement.”

The recent London bombings have made me think. Terrorists regard the enemy as soulless entities and consider that total extermination is necessary. If they have a concept of God, it’s a warped one.

In his book, 1984, George Orwell quoted the secret police slogan, “Freedom is Slavery.” And there was a song sung by Tennessee Ernie Ford in which part of the lyrics went, “Another Day Older and Deeper in Debt.” In a recent publication, Cambridge economist Amartya Sen asserts that ‘development’ can bring freedom. Wishful thinking, Amartya. Although there may be a few exceptions, it’s new-agey, wishy-washy and Pollyannaish to expect this if big corporations are involved. They may say they will preserve traditions, religions and customs of people in distant developing lands, on the plea that they’ll generate medical facilities, improved education, more varied and convenient shopping, better entertainment and – most important of all – more money. Are the workers in sweat shops around the world, or programmers in India, being offered more freedom or becoming mired deeper in debt?

Henry Ford is said to have expressed the tenet that it would be easy to hire employees that could manage money, simple to find people who could handle finances, but extremely difficult to locate assistants who could deal with people. In his purport to Srimad Bhagavatam 3.29.17, Srila Prabhupada writes: “Friendship should be cemented between persons with mutual interests and understanding.” Here Srila Prabhupada succinctly states how important friendship is in Krsna consciousness. Of course it has to be based on spiritual knowledge, but nonetheless, it must be genuine friendship. I mention this, because I have noticed that true friendship is sometimes overlooked and often intentionally avoided because it may seem to detract from preaching.

(The following article was posted in the “Meditations” column of the Hindustan Times, one of India’s largest English language daily newspapers, on 4 June 2003.) `HOW ARE you?’ ‘Fine, thanks’. (Translation: ‘Nothing horrible has happened to me today’, or ‘I feel dreadful but who wants to know’?) Soren Kirkegaard said that people lead lives of ‘quiet desperation’. This existential thinking indicates that happiness is only skin deep, and fun is but a passing frisson — a glimmer, a shiver, an instant high, and that our real situation is one of ongoing anguish. As soon as a tooth is fixed, a computer glitch repaired, a disease cured, we feel ecstatic. But surely there is a pleasure that is more than the absence of pain. I? eyes are the index of the mind or windows to the soul, then we can see from each person’s face, the state of his or her consciousness. Look around. What do you see? Against today’s marketeering push for instant everything from transportation to breakfast cereal, the Gita proposes a different kind of happiness (5.24), more to do with contentedness and satisfaction, instead of the excitement generated by drugs, sex, dancing, racing, gaming, sports and romance. All these have a beginning and an end. Transcendental happiness, subtler but deeper and permanent, doesn’t depend on external stimuli. Ancient wisdom holds that such happiness is an inner part of us. Some neuro-scientists call it ‘the God spot’ in the human brain – yet to artificially activate it leads only to temporary intoxication. This ‘inner happiness’ is regarded by some as a hallucination or self-absorbed escapism (Gita 2.69). On the other hand, aspiring transcendentalists think that rationalism or the mechanistic-reductionist vision is an exclusively earthbound creation. In spite of the many scientific and technological advances that have enlarged our range of creature comforts, upward consumer mobility adds unlimited desires and supplies endless choice, where formerly there was only a basic hierarchy of needs and a few simple choices. ‘Progress’ is often regarded as iffy. Dying is something we have to experience although its exact nature is generally unknown. But in that brief sleep, our future is determined. Living is a preparation for death. In his song, The Art of Dying, ex-Beatle, George Harrison implies rightly that one’s daily meditation for the future need not seal us from reality, or make us musty and morbid. It’s intelligent preparation for blue skies beyond.

Here’s another “meditation” from Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati Thakura’s Will: “Anyone who does not serve Hari, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, Is ignorant and the killer of his self.”

(The following article was posted in the “Meditations” column of the Hindustan Times, one of India’s largest English language daily newspapers, on 24 February 2003.) THE WAR in Iraq (which has a population of 23 million) could mean millions of civilian deaths both there and maybe worldwide. No matter how you slice it, war is hell. Is there a solution? Maybe. The lives of acknowledged saints like Vyas Muni, Ramanuja and Madhvacharya indicate a concern for suffering humanity. Interestingly, the English affix ‘muni’ stems from the Latin ‘munus’, meaning gift, as well as duty, while the term ‘munificent’ derives from ‘munificus’, meaning bountiful. The six goswamis of Vrindavan, apparent retirees and renunciants, wrote voluminously in isolation. But they did so with the express aim of relieving ‘the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to’ — in the early sixteenth century and what they foresaw beyond. Nevertheless, it is known that spirituality and saintliness are private and personal activities. Internal development is key to transcendental advancement. Without hours of daily private meditation and personal study, how can one achieve high levels o? any kind of learning? Meditation can mean adopting a laissez faire attitude toward the world. But should we be blissfully aloof, and praise those who make caves in the rock face? If saintly symptoms are all hidden, how are we to cure the world’s ills? Both positions have merit according to the Gita, and if we cast our glance back through history, we see how the protection of citizens was a natural consequence of well-ordered religious life. Godliness is not the sole property of hermetic saints, but a gift meant for all. It’s overly judgmental, callous and decidedly unspiritual to think that the millions who die in natural disasters, unjustly under political leaders, in the womb and in wars get what they deserve by suffering the results of their karmic destiny. We live in a time when violence is commonplace, and tragedy immanent. If and when disaster strikes, only one thing will remain, spiritual reality. Whether things get better or worse, the self and God will remain untouched. That’s not an argument for disinterestedness, it’s a reminder of what’s important. God is not a cheap purchase. Many charlatans know how to appear generous, liberal and kind. And fanatical evangelists should be barred from the category of spiritualists. Alternatively, those who generously advocate the supremacy of God and kindly awaken the self are actually compassionate. They have the potency to remedy distress and are truly munificent!

(The following article was posted in the “Meditations” column of the Hindustan Times, one of India’s largest english language daily newspapers, on 24 March 2003.) This is a true story. Akbar the Great, king of India from 1556 to 1605, once asked a confidential minister how long the sex urge exists in man. The answer: “right up until the moment of death.” “Humbug,” said the king. Months later the same to minister asked the ruler to accompany him to the home of a dying man. “And bring your 15-year-old daughter.” commanded the aide. “l want you to notice the man’s eyes from the moment we enter his room until when we leave. This is most important.” The girl went with the minister and her father to see this fellow on his deathbed. After the brief visit, Akbar, the minister and the princess walked in silence back toward the palace. “Now I see what you meant”, said the emperor at last. “From the moment we entered until we left, his eyes remained on my daughter. He had no regard for his king.” If it’s true that no servitude is more disgraceful than that which is self-oriented, was the dying man a slave to his own cravings? Such basic drives have always dominated our earthly existence. The Gita informs us (7.5) that the cause and content of the material world is due to the living beings. The passion to enjoy nature and create progeny comes from the immemorial longing to mate and raise children. This is natural. But, the material world, the Vedas inform us, is only one quarter (the ekapad vibhuti) of creation. So we’re a minority. There’s nothing wrong with being a minority, but since we’re talking about the whole material world, there’s something disquieting about such a revelation. Furthermore, we deserve to be legitimately disturbed if we can’t readily perceive the extent of this other dimension – the tripad vibhuti. It is precisely this invisible realm that gives seers that otherworldly demeanour; but spirituality is not their exclusive domain. In fact being “in the world but not of it” is a desireable position. Our responsibility is to tackle the most complicated issues of the day through the lens of full God consciousness. A God who simply grants wishes, fulfils needs, protects us against misery and untimely death, punishes the wicked and rewards the good, has been cut a size too small. If we grasp the implications of a “fully-engaged God” we have made the break. We can be part of the big picture. (The writer is emeritus member, of the ISKCON governing body commission)