Far back on the bank of the Ganga
Celebrating the advent of dayadhara Gauranga
On the night of the full moon
Hoping his mission would begin soon
Seemed it was the only to save humanity
And reform the society
He’ll wake everyone up to the promise of the true prospect of life
To see and serve Sri Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari
In their Ganga-Yamuna Nadia sasadhara,
Full moon dress “holding a rabbit” translation from Bengali
Quickly to the southland for a short talk with near friends Murkha and I are off to the village to see the tourists and locals enjoy the afternoon. A couple of fully loaded tandems are ahead and smile when the roadies gently pass. Sprinting along the beach dodging the joggers and pick pockets to the harbor and then the natasala where people wait for a command performance. I take leave and Murkha hammers as far as he can over the first highway to make the vaikalika offering.
Once the Thakuras are awake and taking their offering
Begin to take off their Nadia Sasadhara, holding a rabbit dress
Changing them into the lampas
You take the chance to pray
Waiting for the sign that it’s come to curtain time
In The Bhagavatam it’s written, “the lord appeared”
Now the wasp is on the run
Blue with lemon yellow boarders with flowers shinning in the sun
Now they take rest after the party is done
Going to the Ganga ‘cause the lunar eclipse has come
Anywhere else would simply be an ill omen
Advaita acarya and Hari dasa are dancing
No one knows just why
All the local villagers chanting Hare Krsna
Seeing Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari
Wearing yellow and blue combine as green
Stealthily to the southland for a talk with the friends gathered there. Circling around to come up to the navapatra again. there’s a smack of sufferers along the beach while Murkha and I are pedaling at a leisurely pace. The Cruiser King is there to follow around the corner I take leave at the cap place. Murkha passes the house that taught choc-o-lot to talk-a-lot to the redone road keeping the tennis park on the right. At the Dvitiya campa hatti take the right over the first highway. The ratha-bhojana-vrksa is there to see him fold his palms and the kalarupa chases him to the sandhya where the one as cool as a mountain of sandalwood is the greeter.
The thakuras dance the night away in Deep within the far off Jungle.
Big kettle of butter on the flame
Takes time to see the bottom
Who could forget the delicate scent?
or the patience it takes to boil
rose and sumanas leis swaying as they dance in the sunshine
counting one hundred eight for each arati
frosty butter shimmering
high flame melting it all to foam
Sri Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari’s dress
That same golden color
Iridescent in the altar light all who see are overwhelmed
Murkha and I haven’t gone this way in some time. Along the main street past the suggestively named byank. Through the parking lot of the krankenhaus up over the first highway a beast wanting to enter has to wait for Murkha and I so it snorts. Laughing past the field of the clank of the aluminum bat the street is empty making the slide over to make the left at the hospital curve. With the tennis park on the left I take my leave as Murkha continues between the lakes. The windmill is also on the left on the way to the big street. Left to the navapatra and on to the wharf road. under the first highway this time. The ratha-bhojana-vrksa calls out and Murkha bows while in pursuit of the kalarupa to come to the asrama where the kernel of divine love is walking.
Hiranya Kasipu, gold and soft bed, a nightdress offered at this time of year named for the father of Prahlad and because of it’s yellow and gold soft silk fabric making it such a comfortable outfit for evening pastimes that they are quick to put it on and turn out the lights.