Sunday, 4th Jan, 2009.
I awoke, like my birth, as a Queenslander again. We were in a queue to go to the single bathroom downstairs between Sadhu, Mathura, Domo and Myself. Normally such an obstacle would be not even considered but when on tour you choose to sleep us much as you possibly can (which isn’t much) and usually this leaves minimal time to get ready. Domo was also on time police, for good fun.
When we were fresh and ready for our day’s adventures we were fussed upstairs for a grade A Gujarati spread. For me it was excellent as I was in the mood of separation from India and Gujarats are the exemplary prasad preparers for India so we were in good hands.
After a scrumptious breaky I was sent to Brissy temple to pick up some troopers. Domo drove another car we were borrowing and lead the way. I quickly found my roots in my home town and was hoping, being close to home, I wasn’t going to get too lost here. Although I was still pretty amateur with Brisbane directions so it was bound to be interesting for the drives.
When I arrived at the temple I buzzed around to see as many devotees as I could before time was out. It was just powering past breakfast so I caught all the prabhus mainly in the first room, prasad room. I bumped into Atma Yoga man Bhakta Micky, manager and friend Madan Gopal Prabhu, their beloved deities Sri Sri Gaura Nitai and finally on the way out old friend Sukananda. I had spent 3 weeks living in Brisbane Temple in between my shift from work to University, so was familiar with most of the crowd.
We impatiently waited for our two yogi twins in the car. We were heading to Byron Bay for the show and they were late, as was the usual for the tour. Domo lead us off from the temple just to scare one, making him think that we may have left him behind. We tried to call earlier to let the twins know they should eat at a decent time (which is not habitual for these prasad hoarders) but the whole Brisbane temple crew were blissfully listening to Bhagavatam Class all morning (or at least we hope) and couldn’t make it to the phone.
I was not really feeling in much mood for driving on the way down to Byron when we finally headed off. By the end of the drive I had deemed it quite obvious that I was too tired and should not be driving. Not only that, being tired meant something even more dangerous than negligent driving and that was that I was going to be cranky.
After quickly arriving on set and arguing with my good friend Domo, about a complete bunch of nothing in particular, I decided it was a better idea to take a nap than to try deal in this state all day. I picked out a sweet spot back stage in what seemed to be the corner and made like a mayavada with the floor (ie became one with the floor).
I rose to some commotion as the harinam party returned. It was prasad time. There was a queue of people trying to unconditionally serve the Vaisnavas prasad, and without seeking name and fame the charged into this divine nectarian service with all enthusiasm (ok, most of this statement is true. But everyone seemed to want a great pic of themselves serving so I might take back the “without seeking name and fame”).
After some nutritious prasad, courtesy of the Cardamom Pod Hare Krsna Vegetarian Restaurant, on the main stretch coming into Byron Bay, in the first arcade on the left after the main round about proceeding the railway track (advertisement) I was set to get back into some seva. I started to march back towards the doors to the theatre room.
Before I made it a few paces I bumped into an unlikely face. “Kalki?!” Last time I had seen little Kalki was in Mayapur. I had totally forgotten, due to my mass driving marathon, the whole family was moving back to Murwillumbah. I soon saw Vishaka and Mother Gopapatni. Kamala and Radha were sitting with them and it was a nice little family reunion for the gang.
Just as I left the prasad scene Vraja rolled in with a box of surprise donuts. I some how found myself back where the devotees were taking prasad (I don’t think it had anything to do with the presence of donuts). Indradyumna Swami saw me enter and quickly voiced some concern. “Maddy have you had a donut?”
“Ummm no” I replied in dull reciprocation. Before I could pretend to a master of the senses and say I wasn’t interested in having any, Maharaja pulled a maha donut off his plate and placed it in my hand.
I relished my little piece of remnants. I was even more joyful when it was revealed that there were still more donuts Indradyumna Swami could have given me instead but rather he gave me his blessings. It was from this point that my day became noticeably brighter. Later on that night I remembered the pastime of Narada Muni taking the remnants of the sages and attaining a spiritual body. I thought to myself “maybe there is still hope for me.”
After everyone had finished their lunch we were whisked up for an ishta goshti on the stage. We all assembled. We had lost Dina Dayal, presumably because he was on Queensland time. But instead of him, I noticed a familiar face; his long hair made him look a little out of place in our group. He was the boy who had tagged along one of our harinams in Sydney. Chandra had kept in touch with him and he was in Byron Bay on his travels. He got to jump in on one of the more personal parts of the tour as HH Indradyumna Swami gave us a low down.
Indradyumna Swami was reminding us that, although we had done a lot of touring and festivals, that we had to keep up our game and make sure our performances were first class. After some encouraging and intimate words from Gurudeva, Domo took the time to pass off some information. He talked about all the important technical details of the venue and previous festivals. He noted that we had to stay back stage the whole time and that we couldn’t make noise behind stage as everyone would hear. He noted us making jokes while Gurudeva gave lectures and Indradyumna Swami almost spoke up when he mentioned this. Most people would find some lessons in such a statement as this but all I heard was “joking while gurudeva was talking” and this sparked some ideas in my head.
The bhajans had began and I was back stage from then on. Me and Sri were busting the groove thang out while the acts were going down. We did our play and it was an amazing response. The layout of the theatre had everyone up close and looking down on us. It had it’s own personal touch. I only had the option to stay back stage and do antics instead of going out to sit at the book table in the quiet time. I soon adopted this routine for every show.
The boys and I were mucking around back stage as Indradyumna Swami stepped on stage. I quickly started to take character. As Gurudeva spoke I imitated with actions. At first I was just doing it to intimidate Gaura Hari and Sri P but all of a sudden they took seats in audience. All of a sudden a few more of the boys had assembled and my act continued. There was a loud rattle as the girls were rushing down for Shyam Dance. Gaura hushed them and then beckoned them to sit and watch. I tried to use as much moves and gestures from our tour so far. There were old and current Gita play moves, robot dancing and a few other improvisations, the most prominent being “force” (for those who remember the little backstage show).
After the show there was some major feet traffic as we all tried to make it from back stage to the front for the books. There was a litter of the devotees who snuck down to have a look. They were in typical New Govardhana shape, having a good ole fashioned yarn. I saw a couple of the young girls from the farm, Tulsi and Rohini. I remembered how once Tulsi had come to my Sunday Feast book table wanting to acquire a Bhagavad Gita. I gave her one for free if she promised me she would read it and she was. I felt indebted to her for taking some initiative and so I called her up to the table. I stood in line with her and introduced her to Indradyumna Swami to get a book signed. Her sister Rohini took to Sibling rivalry and also came up to get a book signed. It was spiritual success for the upcoming kids in Krsna Consciousness.
I bumped into Kaneya and his mum. It was interesting to see the two of them as the rest of their family was in Sydney in Govindas when I saw them last. KK was cooking it up while these guys were at the big preaching fest at Woodford. It was an enthusiastic crowd and the mood was pretty nice. I managed to catch up with a few people from my home in the flurry of action around the bottle neck reception and also managed to show a few books to some new people over the whole evening. After everything was said and done we packed up, took some of the delicious excess prasad and hit the road.
We made it out of Byron Bay and onto the main road. We were cruising looking to get back to Brissy reasonably late. All of a sudden Domo put on his hazard lights and we both quickly skidded to a stop. “My fuel gauge just dropped really low. I need to find fuel fast.” I buzzed into commando mode and remembered the closest petrol station in Brunswick Heads. I told Domo to follow me and we sped off.
We came off the main road into the old highway. We drove along and I let my mind make some decisions. I remembered there being a petrol station in Ocean Shores which would mean a closer petrol station and less time to do our business. I was also a little concerned that the Brunswick station closed down a good 10 years ago. After a good 15 minutes or so of Ocean Shores suburbia and ending up almost back on the road we started on I decided to ask the locals. Apparently there was nothing in Ocean Shores (in fact this petrol station closed down 10 years ago or so) and the closest was Brunswick.
By the time we made it to Brunswick petrol station, those who were still asleep, rode me off for my miscalculation. It was good to be home again and still totally lost. Krsna smashed my false ego and I hoped maybe one day I would loose faith in my own abilities and just depend on him. It would save me a whole lot of embarrassment.
When we made it back to Brisbane, a whole lot later, I felt a little less awkward when Domo got a little lost himself. It didn’t exactly cost us as much time as my epic detour but it was funny to note how much we didn’t know our own local environments. We found our way on the right track just after the midnight point. Another successful event and another unsuccessful navigation scheme. Ki jai.
The market is slowly filling up with decent wav/mp3 recorders now that Tascam has released two new recorders. The new DR07 and DR100 are there to get you recording classes and bhajans quickly. The DR07 comes even with a 2 GB SD memory card. Now that is what we always wanted!. And it uses standard AA batteries.. Way to go Tascam.
Students of Bhakti Vedanta National School put up a sparkling three hours cultural show on the occasion of school’s sixth anniversary day. Tiny tots in all their sweetness presented a “rainbow welcome” to the audience, while the primary grade students led us into the wonders of nature and science. The highlight of the evening was “Ramayana” which was well anchored and directed. Over 100 students totally involved in the role they were playing, took us back to the age of Ramayana. 
Through a search of the books, letters, conversa - tions, etc. of Srila Prabhupada to find all the instructions he gave for how the GBC should function. A summary in almost exactly or exactly Srila Prabhupada's own words.
By Hrimati dasi
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