Spiritual Summer
A novel by Nori J. Muster
Chapter Seven
There was no office work for Sandy the next day, since Prana had to get ready for Nada Swami's return. Instead she worked in the kitchen chopping vegetables. That evening there was going to be a meeting of all Nada Swami's disciples and future disciples. Sandy didn't see any reason to attend, but Prana insisted that she would be welcome and should go. Sandy realized it would be an opportunity to see Jeff, even if just the back of his head. At about five o'clock Sandy left the kitchen to shower and change into her sari.
Prana's office was overflowing with people by the time Sandy arrived. The wooden desk and other furniture had been removed and replaced with a single rocking chair for Nada Swami. Everyone else sat on the bare, slate floor. Sandy squeezed her way in and sat down against the back wall. A vague feeling of indignation swept over her because, although this had been her territory for the last several days, she now had to share it with dozens of devotees and sit on the floor in a crowded little corner of the room.
At seven o'clock some of the men started chanting and everyone joined in. At 7:30 Nada Swami made his entrance from a door behind the rocking chair. He was dressed in freshly pressed robes and had a broad smile on his face. His eyes seemed to sparkle as he looked around the room at all his disciples and future disciples. The chanting stopped and everyone bowed down, not easy to do in the crowded room, Sandy noticed. The guru sat majestically in his rocking chair, as the proud lord of these men and women. Without a word he opened a velvet bag, took out a pair of brass cymbals, and started tapping them together. Then he led the chanting for another fifteen minutes. When he stopped everyone bowed down again. Nada Swami looked around the room, as if counting heads.
"Where's Aaron? And Jeff?" he asked. "Somebody go get them. This is important because we're going to talk about initiation, something those two might be interested in hearing." His voice seemed a bit sarcastic. "Quickly! Someone go find them!"
One of the men stood up and attempted to walk out, stepping through the crowded room. The women leaned and pushed to clear a path.
"Before we begin, does anyone have any questions?" Nada Swami said. No one raised their hand. "Then just let me just congratulate you all on the greatest Ratha-yatra festival this community has ever put on. Also, to those of you who go out on book distribution: I want you to work extra hard this week as we continue to pay for the festival. Once again, the festival did not make a profit. Although, for next year, we are working on a transcendental plan to change things in this regard." He chuckled. There was a low chuckle among the disciples.
Jeff walked in with the other two men, stepping through a path cleared by the women. They sat down near Nada Swami's rocking chair and bowed down.
"Jeff, I'm sorry you weren't here. We've been talking about something you should be interested in."
Jeff looked up at Nada Swami and quietly apologized.
"All of you should be quite interested, I hope," Nada Swami continued. "Now that the festival is over and things have settled back to normal, we are planning an initiation. I want to speak tonight about what that means." Nada Swami straightened his glasses and rocked in his chair. He took a sip of water from a silver cup and then replaced it on the oak lamp table next to his rocking chair.
"Initiation means," he said, clearing his throat. " 'I am dedicating my life to my guru.' It means 'I am totally sold out, like a sold-out animal. I will do anything to please my guru, no matter what he asks, because he is the representative of Krishna. Wherever my guru goes, that's where I want to be. Even if my guru takes birth after birth, I want to be there with him. Because my guru is serving God. And if I am with my guru I will be serving God, too.' That's the meaning of initiation."
Sandy looked down, playing with her hair, wishing Nada Swami had not fished Jeff out to come to the meeting.
"Accepting initiation means, 'I am going to serve my guru no matter what the inconvenience,' it means, 'There is nothing I won't do for my guru, because my guru is the representative of the Supreme Powerful Lord. He draws his intelligence from the Supreme Powerful Lord and communicates it to me. I accept my guru as my higher intelligence.' That's what it means to take initiation. It means divine guidance. Assurance of attaining the goal of life. And what is that goal? That goal is the most important goal for the living being. That goal is eternal salvation, an eternal place at the lotus feet of the Lord."
Jeff sat quietly, right at Nada Swami's feet, looking up to behold his guru. He's soaking it in, Sandy thought. She wanted to leave the room, but couldn't. She wanted to raise her hand and ask Nada Swami if he believed in individual freedom, but didn't. Why can't people just be with God on their own? she wondered. Why do they need some guy from Brooklyn to tell them how to get next to God?
"The guru is like the boat that takes us to the other side of the material ocean," Nada Swami continued. "Without the boat of the guru we are lost, sinking until we drown. But then you might ask, 'Where has this boat come from?' and it is not the guru's boat. It is the guru's guru's boat. So when you accept me as your guru, it is not me who takes you to the other side, it is my guru, Swamiji. He is our real source of strength. But by the power of disciplic succession, Swamiji's strength, Swamiji's knowledge, Swamiji's love for Krishna is still available to you today. Even though Swamiji has left the planet."
The devotees murmured and breathed sighs of ecstasy. Nada Swami slowed his speech as he let the impact sink in. Then he thundered: "But you have to take advantage! That boat is not available unless you take full advantage! The opportunity to take initiation from someone empowered by such a divine personality as Swamiji is very rare. Those who pass up this opportunity may not get another chance for billions and billions of births. It is that rare." He stopped again and glanced around at the disciples. They all looked at him eagerly.
"What kind of a person would miss this opportunity?" he asked in a low voice. "Only a fool!" he shouted. He looked directly at Sandy and it startled her. She stopped playing with her hair and stared back at him. Then he continued looking about at the others.
"So let us take it to heart that we have made the right decision to give Krishna's representative full control of our lives, guiding us, protecting us, helping us serve God."
A slight murmur broke out as many devotees expressed their agreement.
"Are there any questions?"
"Yes, Your Divine Grace," a young man in the front said. "What if a devotee takes initiation and tries his best to follow all the regulative principles, but falls down?"
"The question is," Nada Swami repeated, " 'What if someone is foolish enough to take initiation and not fulfill his vows.' The answer is simple: that person is a dog. Only a dog would do such a thing. When you get initiated you vow to do four things. You vow to abstain from meat eating, first. You vow to abstain from intoxication and gambling. And you vow to abstain from illicit sex-life. And what is that illicit sex-life? Any sex outside of procreation, with your legally married spouse. Only a dog would have illicit sex-life and only a dog would bark, 'Yes my guru, I accept these vows,' but then not act upon them. It is simply a dog's barking, and nothing more. Sex-life means 'dog life.' The dog has sex on the street, the human has sex in a comfortable apartment; that's the only difference. Any sense gratification will bind you to the material world, like a dog is bound to its master on a leash."
When he paused, several more devotees raised their hands. "Your Divine Grace, doesn't the spiritual master have to accept the karma of the fallen disciple?"
"Yes, that's correct," Nada Swami continued. "The dog-like disciples make their spiritual master suffer for their sins. Do not make your spiritual master suffer."
Another man raised his hand. "Your Divine Grace, what if someone wants to take initiation, but they aren't sure if they're ready?"
"Just hear," Nada Swami answered. "Just sit by the feet of your spiritual master and hear from him. When you have heard--really heard--then you will know it is time to take initiation."
Sandy raised her hand, wanting to test him, "Does Krishna want us to be happy?"
"I want you to be happy and Krishna wants you to be happy a million times more than me." He paused for a moment and smiled like a child. "The problem is that you can't be happy in this material world. You may get some happiness, but then it is taken away. You get some security, but then it is taken away. You get some love, but then you have to leave it. Your real happiness must come from within, from the spiritual realm. And that is where the spiritual master will lead you, to eternal happiness."
Other devotees continued asking questions, but Sandy didn't pay attention. Her heart pounded and her hands shook. She thought about his words over and over, trying to find fault. She felt dizzy, like she might faint, but no longer cared about leaving the room. At the end of the meeting the chanting started again and someone brought a tray of sugar cookies to the guru's side. One by one each devotee walked up and took a cookie from the guru's hand. It seemed to Sandy like a communion. When she went up to accept a cookie, Nada Swami smiled at her.
"How do you feel about organizing closets?" Prana asked. She led Sandy to a supply closet in the office hallway, behind the kitchen. "This one will take you all day."
Sandy looked over the disorganized mess of boxes, paper, file folders, books, and jars containing push pins, coins, paper clips, rubber bands, and other miscellaneous items. "All day? This could take a week," she said. "It must have taken at least six years to get this way."
"It's all yours, your mission if you should decide to accept it," Prana said. "Just put everything in order and ask me before you throw anything away. I'll be out front if you have any questions."
Sandy surveyed the closet once more and started removing things from the top shelf. What a collection of junk, she thought. She started to arrange things in piles along the wall. A lot of it was simply trash. At mid-day she and Prana went to lunch and came back around one o'clock. Within a few hours she felt she was starting to make progress. She immersed herself in pens, stamp pads, envelopes, and keys that probably were obsolete. The shelves were dusty, so she washed them with a soapy rag from the kitchen.
She knew it would happen sooner or later: she heard Nada Swami enter the front room. She stopped working for a moment to see if she could catch any bit of the conversation. Nada Swami asked Prana about phone messages and told her he was going to take a nap; to hold all calls. Then she heard footsteps coming her way. He stopped in the kitchen and she could hear him rummaging around in the refrigerator. Then his footsteps started coming toward her. She looked around at the piles on the floor. Suddenly he was right there, looking at her.
"Oh, hello," he said. "Can I get through here, what is all this?"
"This is your closet," she said.
"I know it's my closet, but what's all the stuff doing out here on the floor?"
"I'm cleaning it."
"Oh, that's very nice. But how am I supposed to get through?"
"Step over?" Sandy said, looking at the piles, hoping it would not be an impossible request.
Nada Swami looked at her and smiled. "I guess that's what one must do if the closets are really in need of cleaning." He looked at the hall again, calculating his path.
"Excuse me, sir, but I'd like to tell you I enjoyed the festival a last week," Sandy said.
"Me too. Quite impressive, isn't it?"
"I would like to come back next year."
"You won't be staying with us?"
"No, I have to go to college. I'll be leaving in two weeks."
"What a shame. I hope you've enjoyed your stay. Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to try to make my way through here." He hesitated and smiled, and then stepped through the obstacles on the floor. Sandy watched as he turned into his bedroom and closed the door.
For the rest of the afternoon she tried not to make any noise at all. Every time she bumped or dropped something, she cringed, imagining that he would come out in a rage at any moment. There were no further incidents, however, and Sandy managed to get the hall cleared out, except for a few things along the wall. At five o'clock she told Prana she was leaving the rest for the next day.
Falling asleep that night she thought about the scene with Nada Swami. He reminded her more of a broker than a guru. Everybody around here seemed so in love with him. What a strange man, she thought as she drifted off.
The next day Sandy continued working on the closet. While she worked, she could hear everything going on in the front office. For the day, Prana's office resembled a doctor's waiting room, with devotees from the community waiting for their turn with Nada Swami. "It always gets like this before he goes out of town," Prana told her during lunch. Prana also explained that there were several more festivals coming up and the various temple leaders had to coordinate their efforts with Nada Swami before he left.
The next morning Nada Swami came to the morning worship. When the chanting ended he walked up to the microphone to make an announcement. Sandy watched from the balcony.
"I'm leaving now," the guru said. "But while I'm gone I hope you will all be preparing for our Janmastami and Vyasa-puja festivals."
Sandy had learned from Prana that these festivals marked the birth dates of Krishna and of Swamiji, respectively. The two birth anniversaries fell next to each other on the devotees' calendar.
"I'll be visiting our temples in Dallas and Atlanta to discuss book distribution in those regions," Nada Swami continued. "When I return, I have scheduled initiations for the morning of Janmastami. You can check with my office to see if your name is on the list."
Sandy looked over the balcony for Jeff and saw him sitting a little off to the side. She imagined how this announcement would affect him. It was a commitment, she thought, one that would prevent him from leaving the temple any time in the near future. She imagined again how much better it would have been if she had met Jeff under different circumstances.
"I am making a special request to everyone, especially the book distributors, to work very hard in the coming week," Nada Swami said. "And I'll see you all when I get back." He smiled and looked around the room quickly. Then he walked toward the front doors of the temple. The men beat drums and followed him out of the building, chanting. The black Mercedes was waiting at the curb, and in the early morning light, Nada Swami waved to his followers from the back seat as the car drove away.
Sandy watched the scene from the balcony windows, and thought of the announcement about the upcoming initiations. Her original ticket home had been for August 28, the day classes would have ended at the Topanga Canyon Yoga Art School. She planned to fly home on the twenty-eighth because that would give her exactly ten days to get ready for school. She thought of her little blue VW parked in her parents' garage at home. It was hard to believe that in just two weeks she would be driving down Highway 5 to start school at Santa Barbara. She was already planning the drive and mentally packing her car with everything she would need for college. She even started keeping lists of what to bring.
What would it be like to stay at the temple and forget all about school? she wondered. No, that was out of the question. College was something she had looked forward to all her life. It was so exciting to be accepted, and such an honor. Besides, her parents had already allowed her to make a deposit on an apartment. She couldn't undo that. When she visited the campus and the college town, Isla Vista, and it had all seemed so perfect.
Maybe there was still a chance Jeff would leave with her. No, that announcement this morning was so final. She decided fate would have to take its course; there was little she could do now.
Sandy knelt on the marble floor of the temple, paintbrush in hand, tracing over the fading pattern of elephants and lotus flowers that once vividly decorated the walls of the temple. She was glad to be involved in an art project again. The whole painting crew was working so with luck they would be done before Nada Swami returned. Other devotees cleaned the altar area or stood on scaffolding to polish the crystal chandeliers. One man buffed the marble floor with a rented machine; others painted and did repair work in the balcony. There were several women applying fresh gold leaf to the guru thrones. From what Sandy understood, one of the artists in the community had cast a life-size statue of Swamiji to replace the framed photo on his throne. Everyone was inspired to work hard because there would be an installation ceremony for the statue on the founder's birth anniversary. But Sandy had reservations: the two-day festival involved fasting and staying up until midnight the first day and getting up early again the next day and fasting again until noon. Also, the initiations would be on the first day, so she already planned to spend the rest of the time depressed. But for now, repainting the wall decorations occupied her mind.
I sure am putting in a lot of hours painting. Much more than I would have done at the Yoga Art School, she mused to herself. The elephant and flower boarder reached to about waist high and had once been bright gold and red. She wondered what the temple must have been like in the old days, when Swamiji was the guru, before the young businessman from New York took over. She wondered how many ceremonies the founder had performed in the building and how it must have been with him there in person, sitting on the golden throne.
It's too bad Indian gurus have to die and leave their missions to unqualified Westerners, she thought. Just like the Yoga Art School, where they threw everyone out, without so much as a ride to the airport. She wondered what things must be like for that group now. Maybe it had settled down. Maybe. She thought about what it must have been like in the L.A. temple during the period just after Swamiji died. She recalled something one of the students at the Yoga Art School had said: "What's an Indian guru organization without the Indian guru?" She continued applying new gold paint to the wall decorations, lost in thought.
