| Wednesday, August 4th - Tuesday, August 10th , 2010 |
This week: Friday, August 6th: Kamika Ekadasi (fast from grains and beans) Break the fast the followingmorning between 6:45 - 7:52 Upcoming:
Tuesday, August 10 - Thursday, August 12: Altar curtains closed Wednesday, September 1st, Sri Krishna Janmastami
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| | | | | | | | | From Srila Prabhupada: As it is stated in the sastras, utsahad dhairyat niscayat tat-tat-karma-pravartanat. These are disciplines. The more we become advanced... And naturally we get the mercy of the spiritual master and Krsna. Through the mercy of spiritual... Guru-krsna-krpa. There must be mercy both of them, guru and Krsna. Without guru's krpa, one cannot reach Krsna, and without Krsna's krpa, one cannot get a bona fide spiritual master. This is correlative terms. So we should follow the disciplinary methods sincerely under the guidance of spiritual master. Then it will be very, very easy to go back to home, back to Godhead. -- "Great Devotee - Great Discipline,"Srimad-Bhagavatam 1.5.24, Vrndavana, August 5, 1974 |
| | | | | His Holiness Radhanath Swami - Entering the Border of India
The following series are excepts from stories from "The Journey Home," a personal memoir by  Radhanath Swami's journey which is filled with bizarre characters, mystical experiences, and dangerous adventures. The sun shone clear and bright in the fresh winter air. I had set out from Lahore at sunrise, walking and hitchhiking fifty-five kilometers down a single-lane dirt road that cut through stretches of wheat, cotton, and yellow fields of flowering mustard. Acacia trees lined the roadside and sometimes a few rose between fields as markers. Otherwise, trees were scarce. More scarce still was the traffic along this road. The few vehicles that did occasionally pass were as exciting to my senses as the traditional turbans and robes of the people in them. Decrepit trucks rumbled by, each as brightly and intricately painted as a wealthy rock star's psychedelic mobile. An occasional bullock cart, hay-lined and piled high with wheat, livestock, and whole families, creaked along. It was on conveyances such as these, and my own feet, that I reached the Hussainiwala border crossing into North India. Only a stout woman seated alone behind an immigration desk stood between my destiny. Her stern glance was not at all inviting. In drab military attire, she sat under the Punjab sun. I stood before her full of hope and covered in dust. I handed her my passport. India's Border Security Forces flanked her on both sides, rifles slung across their shoulders. While she was examining each page of the document, my thoughts whisked me back to the moment on the mountaintop in Crete that set my feet to follow my heart to India. Something had happened to me on that mountaintop. Some, I knew, would dismiss it as an aberration of the mind brought on by hours of solitary prayer or some kind of hallucination brought on by fasting. But I felt that God had appeared to me in my heart, and I had heard His words loud and clear: "Go to India." From that moment on, I'd believed that the Lord was calling me to Him in India.
Three months and over three thousand miles had passed since then on his journey through the Middle East, each moment unlike any I had ever imagined as a boy seeing the world through the ill-fitting lenses lent me by suburban America. And with each mile, my heart was flying toward the sacred soils of India and a rendezvous I knew I could not live without. I longed for India. There my heart's deepest desire might become real. My heart and soul was already with the yogis in their mountaintop ashrams. For months and through unimaginable hazards, I had pressed forward to reunite with them. Now, a step from my goal, I stood waiting before the border guard who gripped my passport to India in her bureaucratic hand. She looked up after some minutes of scrutinizing it, her face expressionless. "Show me how much money you have." She asked. As Ireached nervously into my cloth bag, she leaned forward in her chair. There were only a few coins to show her. Disgust crept across her face. "You require two hundred dollars minimum to enter." She leaned back and folded her uniformed arms across her chest, eyeing me Swami with suspicion. "Where is your money?" Looking at the ground, I stammered, "This is all I have now." "You cannot enter then." She slapped the passport down on the table that now stood like a wall between them. "Go back to your own country." Her words were like arrows that pierced my heart. I said, "But I've traveled overland for months, risking my life to see your country. I burn with a desire to study your religions from the holy people." From far away, I pleaded with her. "I have abandoned the comforts of an American home out of love for India. Please, give me a chance." She glared at me now. "We have beggars enough in India. We don't want another one." She motioned to one of the guards, and he raised his rifle. "You will not enter India. You are rejected. Now go back to where you came from." "But-" "That is final. No more discussion." She stood up from the table, turned her back on me, and marched over to a small barracks. I followed her, trying to change her mind, but she shut me out. Her final edict, "You cannot enter India," lacerated my heart. Her colleagues, who until that moment had seemed stiff and impassive, suddenly, upon her declaration, hoisted their rifles and ordered me to leave at once. Shaken, I walked back some distance along the road behind him and sat in the shade of a large neem tree. As I gazed out across the flat green Punjabi countryside, my mind reeled. Where to go? What to do? How long I sat there stunned, I did not know. But when awareness of my surroundings broke through again, I knew that I would not turn back. If that gatekeeper would not grant my entry into the land of my heart's desire, I then resolved to remain in the dust under that tree. Never once did I dream that entry to India would be denied me. Ignorant as I was of politics, how could I have known then that India and Pakistan were on the eve of their third war since the Partition of India? How could I have guessed that one year later in December of 1971, bloody war would break out along this very border where I now found myself? No one had warned me that I was hazarding one of the tensest borders in the world, second in notoriety only to Berlin's Checkpoint Charlie. At Hussainiwala two armies stood poised, one in Pakistan and one in India, each facing the other in military standoff across the divide. All this was unknown to me on that sunny winter afternoon as I trudged along the road back toward Pakistan. There, from a seat on the dusty ground, I could see my frustrated antagonist pacing beyond the window of her small barracks. Was she expecting a bribe from Radhanath Swami, a soul she had mistaken for one possessed of the affluence derived from a Western birth and white skin? Could she even guess all I'd been through to reach this lonely border post? "Will I ever get to India?" I wondered. After hitchhiking all the way from London, could it really be possible that I would be turned back at the Indian border for want of money? Feeling like an exile, my thoughts turned to my best friend and traveling companion. At our parting Gary, too, had looked like an exile. I started thinking, "Where was Gary now? What had become of him? Did he ever make it to Israel?" As I sat in the dust of that Punjabi plain watching the breeze ripple through a stand of blooming mustard nearby, I missed my old friend. Over a period of hours, I kept getting up from beneath my tree and returning to the border, but each time, the official ignored me. Finally, as a last resort, I pleaded with her again. She stomped the ground with her military boot. "You are testing my patience." She jabbed her stubby finger toward my face, her lips trembling. "You are rejected. Do you hear me? This is my last warning. Don't disturb me again." I turned back to his tree and passed the day in turbulent thought. As the sun was setting, I observed that a shift was about to take place at the immigration desk. An elderly man had come to relieve the woman from her duty. He was a tall Sikh in an elegantly wrapped turban the same drab beige color as his military uniform. The female official pointed to him, making sure he understood that I was not to enter India. Then an army jeep carried her away. Not knowing what else to do, I meekly approached the new officer, praying in his heart of hearts. I handed him his passport and pleaded, "Please allow me entrance into your great country." The officer's voice was cold and disinterested. "I was warned that you are a nuisance. I have been given strict orders to reject your entry. Now show me sufficient money or go back." Tears sprang to my eyes as I explained my life and my spiritual aspirations. "I have left behind the comforts of America to search for India's spiritual treasures. Risking my life, I've hitchhiked all the way from London to reach your homeland. I yearn to find the way to God. Please be kind to me. Someday, I promise, to do something good for the people of India. Honestly, sir, I will help your people. Please give me a chance." Tears filled officer's eyes. "Give me your passport." As the light of day was fading, he thumbed through my document then gazed into my eyes and said, "Sometimes a man must follow his heart. I believe in your words." Reaching down to the table, he lifted the stamping tool by its wooden handle. Then he pressed the rubber script into an ink pad and with a thump, stamped my legal entrance into India. "It is done," he said, closing the passport and handing it back to me. With an affectionate smile, he placed his hand on my head, "Son, I give you my blessings. May you find the truth you are crying for. Welcome to India." |
Appreciating Kalachandji's Community: Spanish Bhakti Program
Her Grace Megharupa Devi Dasi along with Madhavi Madhava Devi Dasi have been hosting wonderful Spanish Krishna Conscious programs such as Bhagavad Gita classes and cooking classes for several years. In particular, over past year these programs have been gradually increasing in size and very nice group of more than 10 devotees has developed. They have even had Spanish programs hosted by sannyasis and other senior devotees. The devotees who attend these programs are very enlivening to our community, and they render much valuable service.
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August 10-12 Altar Curtains Closed for Deity Repainting The altar curtains will close at 8:45 p.m. on Monday, August 9th, and will re-open at 4:30 a.m. on Friday, August 10th. During this time, the Deities will be repainted. We apologize for any inconvenience. |
Prayer Request
On Thursday, August 12th, Bhaktin Linda's husband, Barry will be undergoing a quadruple bypass surgery. Please pray for his protection and his speedy recovery. |
Ratha Yatra DVD Available for SaleA DVD of this year's Ratha Yatra parade, the initiation by H.H. Giriraja Swami & H.H. Rtadhvaja Swami, as well as all of the dancing and entertainment afterwards is available. This is a 2-DVD set. To purchase a copy, please go to Rupa Madhurya's blog. |
Recipe Corner Vegetarian Chili by Kurma Dasa This nourishing combination of beans and vegetables is given an extra protein boost with the addition of crumbled home-made curd cheese (panir). To make this a dairy-free dish, add frozen tofu that's been thawed and crumbled instead of the curd cheese. Chili is delicious served with your choice of breads or rice. Serves 6-8. Ingredients - 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 2 hot green chilies, seeded and minced
- 1/4 teaspoon yellow asafoetida powder
- 1/2 cup diced green peppers
- 1/2 cup diced celery
- 1/2 cup cooked corn pieces
- 3 cups tomatoes, blanched, peeled and chopped
- 3/4 cup tomato paste
- 3 cups cooked kidney beans (reserve the bean liquid separately)
- 1 cup crumbled curd cheese or frozen tofu that's been thawed and crumbled, or chunks of fried tempe
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
- 1 teaspoon cayenne pepper, or to taste
- 1 tablespoon brown sugar
- 2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
Heat the oil in a heavy 3-litre/quart saucepan over moderate heat. When the oil is hot, add the minced green chili and saute for 1 minute. Add the asafoetida powder and saute momentarily. Add the diced peppers and celery. Saute, stirring occasionally, for 5 minutes or until the vegetables soften. Add the cooked corn and the chopped tomato and cook, stirring occasionally, for another 10 minutes. Add all the remaining ingredients and simmer for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. If the chili is too thick, add some reserved bean liquid. Serve hot. | Contact Information | Main Temple phone: 214-827-6330, Congregation Services: 214-827-6330 x 216
Email for general questions and information
To schedule a tour, home or school program: Nityananda Chandra 214-669-3369, or email him
To place an item in next week's bulletin, please send it by Monday each week |
| | August Feast Sponsorships Aug 1st
Talati family in memory of Umesh Talati & Ganga Ba
Aug 8th Chasmawala Family Malik Family Aug 15th 2 Sponsorships Available Aug 22nd
2 Sponsorships Available Aug 29th
2 Sponsorships Available Kindly come forward and sponsor a feast |
Sincere thanks to all our July Monthly Sponsors | Business | | Omega Travels Ltd | | KISU LLC DBA Executive Inn | | Surrey House Inn | | Texas American Bodyworks | | | | Congregation | | Anonymous (SG) | | Amal & Ranu Baidya | | Ambala & Jyoti Panchal | | Anil chourasia | | Anil Kumar Uttarker Sureshrao | | Ashish N Puri | | Atul Srivatsava | | Atul Vohra | | Bobby Jivnani | | Debu Dhar | | Dipak & Jyotsna Gupta | | Dwaraka Iyengar | | Jain Pooja | | Jack Curtis | | Jennifer Bess | | Ketankumar & Usha Patel | | Kirti D Naik | | Mahendra Roy chowdhury | | Manish Raikundalia | | Manish Vanodia | | Mukesh K Patel | | Nalini & Dinesh Deva | | P.P. Mangrola | | Purvi Patel | | Ranjini & Sarojini Min | | Ravindra & Beena Kurup | | Ritesh Kumar | | Ruma & Roy Jahor | | Sangeetha Mukund Patel | | Sanjay Goel/Lalitha Gupta | | Sanjiv/Neetu Agarwal | | Santosh B Rahalkar | | Sant Giridher (FFL) | | Sarup Chowdhury | | Sashi Purohit | | Subhendra N Sarkar | | Sudayana Paul & Family | | Swapan & Mita Saha | | Tracy & L G Roach | | Upendra Charugundala | | Vaidhei Mutyala | | Vasdev S. & Kiran Rai | | Venkat Rangaswamy | | Venkataraman A | | Voldomyr Yefimov | | | | Devotee community | | Arpita Basu (Gurumayi DD) | | Dan Bearden (Dharma Das) | | Daniel Neighbors (Danakeli Das) | | Danny Thomas (Durasaya Das) | | Diana Clark (Dhiralalita DD) | | Hrishikesh Shinde (Rasaraj Das) | | Jayshree Radhe DD | | Laura Schlette (Lavanga DD) | | Liz/Mike Meyer (Mathurnath Das) | | Lynda M Van Nus (Kunti DD) | | Manoj Bagchi (Madhavahari Das) | | Pawan Sabarwal (Prema caru Das) | | Robert A Schoenmann (Gopal Das) | | Ron Gleaves (Radhanath Das) | | Ronald Robinson (Rupanuga Das) | | Sukumar Natarajan (Deva Darsana Das) | | Troy Granger (Nityanandachandra Das) | | William Tansey (Sri Rupa Das) | | |
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Sri Krishna Janmastami Wed, Sept. 1st, 2010 We Invite all of you to take part in the festivities Available
Sponsorpships 1) Deity Dresses (4 in #) $2,501 2) Kalash Abhisheka $2,501 $1,001 $501 3) All Day Festivities $2,501 4) Flowers $1,001 5) Prasadam $501 Please kindly come forward to help us celebrate Sri Krishnas Appearance in a grand celebration To sign up call 214 454 5267 Email |
call 214 454 5267 214 827 6330 x 216 |
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