domingo, 11 de abril de 2010

Japa Group : Blessed By Devotees - Aruna devi




Fotos de Lilamayi Subhadra Devi Dasi del álbum Gopal


Perfil de Lilamayi

With Gaura-Nitai and Sri Nrisimhadev
Añadida el 20 de enero
Vaisnavi Gandalal
Vaisnavi Gandalal
wow, so beautiful!, They're dancing in ecstasy
: -)
22 de enero a las 0:27 ·
Del álbum:
Gopal de Lilamayi Subhadra Devi Dasi

Gopal in His safron crown
Añadida el 20 de enero
Del álbum:
Gopal de Lilamayi Subhadra Devi Dasi

Gopal in His blue crown
Añadida el 20 de enero
Del álbum:
Gopal de Lilamayi Subhadra Devi Dasi

Gopal in Rotorua
Añadida el 20 de enero
Del álbum:
Gopal de Lilamayi Subhadra Devi Dasi

Goodnight Gopal
Añadida el 20 de enero
Karana Karana Devi Dasi
Karana Karana Devi Dasi
Soooo sweet :) x
21 de enero a las 9:49 ·
Suvarna Manjari Dasi
Suvarna Manjari Dasi
heehee, so snuggly!
22 de enero a las 1:51 ·



Japa Group : Blessed By Devotees



Japa Group : Blessed By Devotees


Hare Krsna my dear devotees. I hope your days of chanting have been blessed by the Lord and you have been able to concentrate on the sound vibration of the sweet names of the Lord. Once I read a text from a devotee that the Lord's names were like the tastiest of all desserts and that it melts in our mouth while we we are savouring them. I realized that these names bring joy, strengh, love, caring, protection and you develop affection towards every living entity and you become fearless of anything that may come to you.


One of these days in my daily working life, I was coming back home from my work. It was about 8pm at night and I was still leaving one of my students company when I had this feeling of loneliness, pain and weakness again. It was night and my only desire was to be with my family and with my computer so I could be with the Lord, with devotees and with my kids but then I took shelter on the holy names - that was the only way out I had, so my tiredness was being healed by the peace of chanting and I could make my way back home faster than usual. I was walking but couldn't perceive my way, was just concentrated on the sound of the names. The words were getting out of my mouth and entering in my heart and I became peaceful and in love with the Lord. I prayed to Him in silence, saying that I trusted Him and that He was my friend, my shelter and my only protector and that every single day I realise this in my life. So when I got home I was very grateful I have the holy names and that I can understand how I am gifted by devotees association from all over the world. Here are some beautiful prayers glorifying the vaisnavas, I hope you like them.

"The devotees award the great wealth of prema, which is very rare in this world, and thus fulfill all desires, including freedom from death. In the Vedas and Puranas it is proclaimed that each one of his devotees has the potency to deliver the entire universe. With upraised arms I pray to the feet of all of Gauranga’s bhaktas, wherever they may reside. Holding a straw between my teeth, I submit at the feet of all the servants of Mahaprabhu that ever were in the past and that ever will be in the future."
Sri Vaisnava Vandana by Sri Devakinandana Das

I am very grateful to all amazing vaisnavas that protect our spiritual lives, like my own spiritual master who is always engaged in preaching and showing by example the message of Lord Chaitanya and following our Founder-Acharya's order. I beg for his blessings so I can always realise his efforts and become his good servant one day.

Wishing you all a great week of chanting.

your servant,

Aruna devi


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The Installation of Sri Nitai Gaurachandra



Bhakti Lata, Alachua, USA : The Installation of Sri Nitai Gaurachandra

Krishna Dhama and Gaura Shakti are two second-generation devotees who recently invited the Lord as Sri Nitai Gaurachandra into their home and into their family.

Come and celebrate!

The family offers prayers






spellbound







[below photo courtesy of Jaya Radhe]
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by Bhakti lata (noreply@blogger.com) at April 22, 2010 11:40 AM

Bhakti Lata, Alachua, USA : Don't Walk. Run.


One cool morning in Varsana, India, four people set out to climb a mountain.

“Are we going to make it for Mangala Arati?” I asked my friend Bhanu.

“If we rush,” she said.

I looked up, where perched on the mountain was a temple, more like a palace, glittering with lights in the night. The sight held me in pause – just a few moments, because my companions were swift in their quest.

We wound our way through the silent village streets, and then began to scale the seemingly endless mountain stairs. One foot… in front of the other… keep going… I was so absorbed in the climb that when I finally looked up, we had reached the stone arc which lead to Sriji Mandir.

We emerged upon a platform lit by lights, and one last set of steps stretched up to the entrance of the temple, where the giant wooden doors stood shut. Crowds of people spilled upon the steps.

Our crew walked up and settled down as close to the door as we could get. “Get ready, Bhakti,” Bhanu said. “When the door opens, don’t think, just run. Run into the temple! There will be a stampede. If you don’t run, you won’t get in to see the Deity,”

“Okay, I’ll run,” I took deep breaths, my body tingling.

In a pavilion down the steps and on the edge of the cliff, a group of villagers sang bhajans; the drum matched the patter of my heart. The voices of the singers spiraled through the night. I looked out onto the sleeping village of Varsana – lights spread out like a glittering web, and I could see the spires of some temples lit up in the night. The breeze brushed past me up here, up on the mountain.

I whipped out my poetry journal and began to compose a poem.

Suddenly, Bhanu yelled, “Run!”

In one moment, all the villagers had jumped to their feet. I slammed my book shut. I too jumped to my feet and ran through the outer temple doors, which the pujari had not even finished opening yet. I kicked off my shoes and as I ran I stuffed my journal into my pack.

I couldn’t help grinning and laughing – for several moments I matched pace with an old woman in a colorful sari. At one point, our eyes met. Our eyes sparkled.

I dashed through into the open courtyard of Sriji Mandir and over to the main sanctum of the temple. Sriji Mandir is a bit unusual for a temple in India, for in this temple, women stand at the front, and men stand at the back. A banister separates the two sections.

So women began to push and gather in the front section. I dove in. I jockeyed my way to the center of the crowd and faced the altar straight-on. The curtains had not opened yet, but to the side the pujari waited in silence. I gathered many grins of complaints from the villagers, for I stood out like a beanstalk. I ducked a little, but I refused to move.

Women began to squeeze in… squeeze… in…

I spied my friend off to the side. “Bhanu!” I called out. “I can’t breathe!” The push and the crush was so strong, I didn’t even have room to bring my arms up to shield my chest. Panic rose.

“Just get through it. You’ll be glad you did,” she called back over the melee.

I took as deep a breath I could and wanted to laugh in amazement. But I didn’t have the breath to laugh.

When the curtains opened, a wave of emotion swept over the crowd. I felt like a stone in the middle of a river – still and observant of the roar of water. Everyone sang Hare Krishna in unison at the top of their lungs. I sang, too - I couldn't even hear my own voice.

I decided the crush on my lungs was worth the view, was worth this moment.

When the arati ended, the curtains closed and the people dispersed to the courtyard to circumambulate Tulasi Devi in dizzy circles. I settled to the back steps of the courtyard, just to watch this world spin.

Bhanu sat next to me. “Amazing huh? My guru, Sacinandana Swami, says that we should be eager for Krishna like these Varsana-vasis.”

One year later, even as I live here in Alachua - a very mild, Western community - if I'm approaching the temple and I hear an arati bell, I break into a run. I have realized that that morning in Varsana taught me to jump to my feet to see Krishna. Don’t walk.

Run.

Or you might miss Him.

So. My poem remains unfinished in my journal. I think I’ll leave it that way.




I heard this man's song last year, and it still brushes the edges of my heart. He sings after the Mangala Arati service every morning at Sriji Mandir. [e-mail subscribers can follow this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lTkv-g7oufg]
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