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DIARY OF A TRAVELING
PREACHER >>
By Indradyumna Swami
Volume VII, Chapter 15
"Bearing the Burden"
Odessa and Baku
09/06/06 - 12/09/06
During the festival in Odessa, one of my aspiring
disciples asked to see me. Fifteen-year-old Radha Sakhi dasi was
born into the Krsna consciousness movement. When she was a child,
I gave her a lot of attention and care, as I do for many children,
and while we talked, I could tell that such love had borne fruit.
She told me that her mother had recently passed
away, a few weeks after suddenly coming down with a lung infection.
Radha Sakhi was alone in taking care of her and was with her when
she died. Though shaken by her mother's impending death she bravely
collected herself, and put a Tulasi leaf into her mother's mouth,
poured Ganges water on her head, and loudly chanted the Hare Krsna
mantra into her ear.
"You did the right thing," I told Radha
Sakhi. "Just as your mother brought you into the world and
helped you become Krsna conscious, so you helped your mother to
leave in the most auspicious circumstances. Mother and daughter
have proved themselves to be the best of family members by serving
each other's deepest interest: to return back to Godhead."
The day before I left, I initiated 10 people, bringing
the number of my disciples close to 2,000. The next morning as I
was packing to leave, I had a small seizure. My body stiffened,
my neck and arms were full of intense pain, and I couldn't speak.
It lasted only a minute or two but left me exhausted. As I went
to lie on my bed I tried to understand why it had happened.
"I am in good health," I thought.
Then I remembered that the same thing had happened
two years ago, just after another initiation. Although Tamala Krsna
Maharaja once told me not to attribute bad health solely to the
karma of my disciples, I couldn't ignore Srila Prabhupada's statement
in Perfect Questions, Perfect Answers, that a spiritual master takes
on the burden of the sinful activities of his disciples.
"Krsna is so powerful that He can immediately
take up all the sins of others and immediately make them right.
But when a living entity plays the part on behalf of Krsna, he also
takes the responsibility for the sinful activities of his devotees.
Therefore to become a guru is not an easy task. You see? He has
to take all the poisons and absorb them. So sometimes - because
he is not Krsna - sometimes there is some trouble"
[Perfect Questions, Perfect Answers, Chapter 6]
I had thought about stopping initiations last year
but decided to continue. Now, as I lay on the bed, it became obvious
that something had to change. I decided that from now on I would
accept disciples only if I knew them well and had long-standing
relationships with them. I would be more selective.
Then I got up to take a shower. While lathering
I slipped and fell, hitting my head hard on the floor. I was knocked
out for a few moments. Then I woke up and stumbled back to the bed.
"That makes my decision even more firm,"
I thought.
That afternoon a young man approached me with a
letter of recommendation from his temple president asking me to
accept the boy as an aspiring disciple. I politely refused. Word
spread quickly.
After the festival, I left with my Russian disciple
and translator, Uttama-sloka das. Dressed in dhotis, we flew from
Odessa to Kiev, where we would catch a plane to Baku, the capital
of Azerbaijan, Uttama-sloka's native country. It is a small Muslim
country on the Caspian Sea bordered by Russia, Iran, Georgia, and
Armenia.
At the airport in Kiev I ran into Prabhavisnu Swami,
who was on his way to another region in the CIS. "Are you going
into a Muslim country dressed like that?" he asked.
I had been in a hurry when I left Odessa, and it
hadn't occurred to me that it might be wiser to travel in conventional
clothes.
The trip had been organized months in advance,
but because of the outdated communications in Azerbaijan we had
not been able to contact the temple or local devotees for weeks.
"It's like flying into the unknown,"
I said to Uttama-sloka.
"We don't even know who's picking us up,"
he said with a half-hearted laugh, "or where we'll be staying
or even if they'll have prasadam ready."
"I love it," I said. "This is sannyasa:
completely dependent upon the Lord."
But the love wasn't without apprehension. I felt
nervous as I mulled over Prabhavisnu Swami's comment about my clothes.
I recalled the last time I visited Azerbaijan two years ago, when
an official had demanded a hundred-dollar bribe as I departed.
I turned to Uttama-sloka "Do any tourists
ever go to Azerbaijan?" I asked.
He laughed.
I looked around the cabin. I saw only Azerbaijanis,
silently staring back at me.
I turned to Uttama-sloka. "There's a heavy
mood in here," I said.
Toward the end of the flight, as I was nervously
arranging my documents for entry, I noticed a large man sitting
across the aisle, wearing a black coat and sporting a big mustache.
He suddenly turned to me. "Hare Krsna!" he said loudly.
I don't know who was more startled, I or the other
passengers.
"Are they going to wash your feet when you
arrive at the temple?" he asked in a booming voice. He was
speaking Azerbaijani, and Uttama-sloka translated.
Everyone looked at me, and I wasn't sure how to
reply. Either way would confirm that washing the feet of distinguished
guests was part of the tradition I followed. I doubted any of the
passengers had ever heard of such a thing. Then the same man came
to my rescue.
"It's not our Islamic custom," he said,
"but nevertheless it is your tradition's way of honoring guests.
And respecting guests is very much part of Islamic culture."
I took a quick look around and saw a number of
people nodding their heads in agreement.
"How do you know about this?" I said.
He laughed. "I used to live next to your temple
in Baku," he said. "Every time a guru would come I would
watch the reception from my window. You are good people. You love
Allah with a passion."
I looked around the cabin again. Everyone was smiling
at me. All my misgivings vanished.
When we landed, the other passengers stepped back
to let me take my baggage out of the overhead compartment. Some
motioned that I should go forward and be the first to leave the
plane.
The woman at the immigration desk smiled and asked
if I was going to stay at the Hare Krsna temple. When customs officials
asked if I had any goods to declare, I replied that I didn't. One
of them smiled. "But do you have any Hare Krsna baklava?"
he said, referring to a traditional Middle-Eastern sweet.
"No," I said. "I'm sorry, I don't."
"Make sure you have some on the way out,"
he said. "We work both directions, coming and going."
As I walked toward the exit I looked up and saw
a sign: "Welcome to the country where it is a tradition to
serve and respect guests."
I chuckled. "Things have certainly improved
since my last visit," I thought.
When Uttama-sloka and I left the terminal we were
greeted by about 50 devotees. As I walked along, the devotees gave
me flowers and garlands, which I immediately distributed to the
many curious Azerbaijanis watching. Each time I offered someone
a flower I would greet him. "Salaam aleikum," I would
say. "Peace be unto you."
"Wa aleikum salaam," they would reply,
wishing me the same.
I marveled at being so openly received in a devout
Muslim country.
As we drove to the temple, I spoke to my disciple
Sahadeva dasa. "Things have changed," I said.
"Yes and no," he said. "The government
wants to join the European Union, so it is welcoming foreigners
and making it easy to come and go. It wants foreign investment and
US dollars for its large oil reserves."
Then he lowered his voice, as if out of habit,
"But the government is very corrupt," he said. "The
officials keep most of the money and the people remain poor. I won't
say more."
I looked out at the city. It appeared much as it
did when I first came, in 1992.
"What is the population?" I asked.
"Eight million," said Sahadeva, "but
20 million Azerbaijanis live next door in Iran."
"How is that?" I asked.
"Gasoline costs one US cent a liter in Iran
and bread is practically free," he said.
I was happy to be back. Baku is one of my favorite
places for preaching. I can never get over the fact that I can preach
freely there, in the midst of the Muslim world. All of my 25 disciples
in Azerbaijan were born in Muslim families, but no one opposed them
when they joined the Hare Krsna movement.
The next morning, Sahadeva told me a bit of recent
history. "Some years ago the government cracked down on the
200 non-Muslim religious movements in the country," he said.
"We thought we were finished. But then it officially registered
20 of them, including us."
"Why did it do that?" I said.
"The government was primarily concerned about
the opposing political parties using religion as a front,"
he said. "Many of the groups were merely facades for political
opposition. Because we're a purely spiritual movement with no political
intentions, the government had no complaints. But it did place some
stiff restrictions on us. After all, it is a Muslim country. It
forbade us to preach outside Baku, and we are not allowed to hold
public programs.
People can only visit our temple. But we got permission to distribute
Srila Prabhupada's books anywhere we want in Baku."
I smiled. "Lord Caitanya's secret weapon,"
I said.
"People like us and know who we are,"
he said.
I got first-hand experience of that as we drove
through the city. When we stopped at a red light, two men walked
by in front of our car. One man turned to the other. "You see
in that car?" he said. "It's a Hare Krsna guru."
The next morning I was thinking of visiting the
local hospital to follow up on the seizure. But just as I was about
to bring up the idea, I overheard two devotees joking about the
doctors in Azerbaijan. "When a patient goes to the hospital,"
said one, "the doctors have to decide whether to treat the
patient or let him live."
I just kept quiet.
My heart goes out to the devotees in Azerbaijan.
They preach in an isolated part of the world and are rarely visited
by senior devotees, so I decided to go ahead with the initiations
they had planned, although I knew little about some of the candidates.
I have always relied on temple presidents to recommend disciples,
just as Srila Prabhupada did.
Before the ceremony I asked to meet the candidates.
One man in particular caught my attention, as I had stayed at his
house when I was in Azerbaijan two years ago. He was originally
from Iran, but he took up communism and fled to Azerbaijan when
it was a republic in the former Soviet Union. He started a business
in Baku and soon became wealthy.
Later he fell away from communism because he saw
it failing. He turned again to Islam and became a devout Muslim.
Then several years ago he met the devotees and
was fascinated by the philosophy of Bhagavad-gita. He was impressed
by the temple programs but hesitated to fully surrender because
of his attachment to wealth. He then went to India, on a pilgrimage
to learn more about Krsna consciousness. Overwhelmed by the beauty
and transcendental atmosphere of Vrindavan, he decided to become
a devotee. I was in Vrindavan at the same time, and one day he approached
me and asked to become an aspiring disciple.
That night he prayed to Sri Sri Radha-Syamasundara
at our temple and asked Them to take away any impediments to his
Krsna consciousness. After he returned to Azerbaijan, his business
failed, and he started a smaller one that brought in less money
but gave him more free time.
"How do you use that free time?" I asked.
I wanted to see how serious he was.
"I use it to chant between 32 and 64 rounds
a day," he said.
At the initiation ceremony, I mentioned that his
life was simpler than when I first met him. "Allah always gave
me what I wanted," he said, "but Krsna took everything
away and left me only the shelter of His lotus feet."
Everyone smiled.
"I can easily bear the burden of a few more
disciples like this," I thought. I handed him his beads and
gave him the name Nilacala-candra das.
"Caitanya Mahaprabhu has forbidden, 'Don't
make many siksas, many disciples.' But for preaching work we have
to accept many disciples - for expanding preaching - even if we
suffer. That's a fact. The spiritual master has to take the responsibility
for all the sinful activities of his disciples. Therefore to make
many disciples is a risky job unless one is able to assimilate all
the sins."
[Perfect Questions Perfect Answers, Chapter 6]
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