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Narada Muni: Who is Your Temple President?

This article is not written in the mood of the Back to Godhead Magazine. The BTG is fine, of course, but terms like "Bhakta," and "Kirtan" must always be explained in full in that stellar publication. Here, this is just me, talking to you, a Hare Krsna Devotee.

In this instance, I want to talk to you a little about Narada Muni Prabhu, who used to be the President of the Columbus Temple and is now the President of New Vrindabana. I am sharing my point of view with you ... not the vision of one of the Leaders of the Movement, as they say. What I give you here is the view from the position of a very much underling.

In this instance, the view in fact from the recalled perspective of a Bhakta in the Columbus Temple. There, I was under the supervision of the Columbus Temple President, one Narada Muni Prabhu.

Narada seemed very colorful to me, and very dynamic. I liked his strong leadership qualitites, which, as an ex military person, I certainly recognized.

I was struggling to come up to the place where I'd be chanting 16 rounds in the morning, just like the real devotees I was surrounded by. The devotees seemed so wonderful, I used to pretend to leave a room and then hang out just beyond the door to hear what they "really" talked like.

They were REALLY as nice as could be, to say the least. Narada Muni set a very attractive example by displaying knowledge and enthusiasm in the practice of Krsna Consciousness. We had a little restaurant going in the Temple itself before it was moved out to High Street in Columbus, Narada called it "Simply Wonderful ..."

A guest was asking questions about the movement one day and I wanted to be certain not to give improper responses, so I'd take every question, say, "Just a minute," and go ask Narada Muni.

After a few times, Narada refused to "help."

"You can answer," he told me quietly but urgently, with one of his huge contagious smiles.

"No I can't" I endeavored to demur.

Narada laughed. "Go," he said. "You can do it. I won't help you with this anymore. You must do this."

I had the sensation of a shaky pitcher whose lack of steady performance has brought the coach out to the mound: We were on the same team. I had a job to do. This was to be my job. My responsibility.

That's how Narada was to me: Assessing everyone's capabilities and acting in a way that brought just a little more from each person than that person had previously known he (or she) could give.

I attribute chanting 16 rounds a day to Narada Muni ... back in New York, I'd taught myself to chant from reading that I should do so in "The Bhagavada Gita As It Is" by His Divine Grace Srila Prabhupada.

I was short on the mechanics. Then, moving about the house and doing chores, I had been chanting with my left hand, so that I could do things with my right.

Now in the Temple, Narada saw me chanting that way and told Symasundara, "Take him out and show him how to chant properly."

I was (and am) in awe of the real devotees, and I felt honored to have the attention of Symasundara for a while. He of the very thick glasses and the earnest, grimacing glances. Symasundara didn't just immediately teach me to chant with my right hand, of course, but he taught me the "Clearing" or Pancha Tattva, Five Truths Mantra in addition.

Looking back, I understand that for Symasundara, this was as much a nectar and "can do" assignment as the wonderful things Narada Muni gave me, or anyone else, to do.

It wasn't just the chain of command asspect, it was the finely tuned machine which was the Columbus Temple, in accordance with the right principles as handed down "... like the ripened fruit," as I learned to say.

But please allow me to give you a more complete example of the glorious ways I often saw in the operations of the very fine Narada Muni Prabhu.

In the morning, when and where I'd been learning to chant properly and attending Mongol Aoratik, there were vandals who were in the habit of tossing fire crackers through the open windows.

These vandals were members of one of the Ohio State University fraternity houses which lined the streets of the neighborhood where the Columbus Temple was located. "When we are rising, they are going to sleep," was the standard observation.

It was true. To "them" four in the morning was around bed time. For us, by seven in the morning or so, we had already performed more real activity than they'd do possibly in a life time.

And they resented us. And it was their practice to throw in fire crackers and try to disrupt our chanting in the morning or our Kirtans.

On one particular morning, one I'll never forget, we were all chanting ... or the devotees were actually chanting ... I was mimicking earnestly ... Hare Krsna Hare Krsna Krsna Krsna Hare Hare Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare ... oh but they ... Chedi Raj, Loka and Mukta, Symasundara, Janakanath, Krpa Maya, they were REALLY chanting. I was following ... only because I knew it was correct to try. I did not have the feeling that I knew what to expect by chanting or that I was chanting toward something, or even as illustrated earlier, that I was chanting properly.

So there we all were ... the devotees many in the lotus position many striding back and forth, me standing with my head up against the wall like I was suffering and that magnificent vibration when so many people are chanting together ...

Some devotees had chanted all their rounds and gone upstairs to prepare for the day. Some were in the kitchen fixing breakfast.

Bhagavatam class would be in a few minutes ... then suddenly ... in came the exploding firecrackers again, along with the giggles of the young vandals without.

Then Narada Muni leapt to his feet. He did! He became transformed ... it was as if he saw this as yet another opportunity! He ran to the landing of the temple stairs, and tilted back his head. Out of his mouth came a roar which startled me: He yelled, from the center of the building "Let's Go Boys!"

Then the devotees who had been chanting and the devotees who had been in the kitchen and the devotees who were upstairs, and yes, well, me, we all formed up like firemen, and ran with our leader to the street.

The vandals were shocked to see us turn out so, and immediately ran ... displaying great fear. You could see it in their faces, their eyes were round as coins. They scurried like dogs, I'm sorry, but that is how it was.

Then Narada pulled up and stood bravely in the middle of the street. No, I won't forget it! Narada Muni was not a very imposing figure at all ... one would look at him and love him actually, not fear him ... but then and there, in the street, pulling up like a calvary general, Narada actually waved his fist and yelled after the retreating fleeing figures: "Come back you cowards!"

But they were running hard and desperately fast. I saw a transformation then on Narada Muni. The fist was in the air still and waving, but the lion like posture ... I must have been mistaken ... Narada was actually smiling wasn't he? Yes, he was smiling, and speaking in that whisper. That boy was simply full of Krsna as far as I could see. He wasn't a lion, he was a lamb.

Narada was walking back to the temple now, with the rest of us. I was very startled. In my reading, I hadn't seen anything like this. "Narada Muni," I said. "I thought the devotees are non-violent."

Narada gave me that "aw shucks" kind of body language then ... the kind where you imagine someone is moving their toe back and forth in the sand. You know what I mean. He was shy. "Non-violent?" he said. "We are non violent. To do nothing would have been to accept violence." He smiled at me very broadly. Again, I had the feeling of the player and the coach, and you know whom I mean by "the coach."

Narada Muni, the beautiful vessel ... we're not done here quite yet.

I cleared back out of Narada's way then for I could see he had something more on his mind. "Krpa Maya!" he called.

"Yes?" Krpa Maya responded. He had his japa beads and he was chanting.

"Go up to my office and call the police."

"Right." Krpa Maya asked no questions, but immediately returned to the temple.

"Krsna Bava," Narada said. He seemed like one of those generals with you know ... lots of solutions which must be invoked very quickly in a battle situation.

"Yes," she responded. She too was chanting.

"Go get the Maha Cookies."

"Yes Prabhu," Krsna Bava went into the temple to bring out a batch of the Maha Cookies she prepared and offered every day for the Simply Wonderful Restaurant and for general distribution.

Me? I had no inkling. I was on the right team, I knew that, but I had no idea what Narada was seeing or thinking or planning.

Then, from down the street, from the opposite direction the vandals had taken when running, I saw a huge crowd of college students coming towards us. They reminded me of the mob in one of those Frankenstein movies.

The morning was coming up ever brighter, and I did not see any torches, but the mood of the mob was ugly and they were picking up more people as they drew near.

Then at the Temple Steps, Narada Muni addressed them all very sweetly and calmly. It looked to me as if Narada loved these people. Personally, I felt not one way or the other about them, but then, of course, I'm ME, and Narada Muni is the Temple President. He was then, he is now, and I suspect he is always ... say even in between times.

I don't remember the particulars of what Narada said to the crowd. He gave them a question and answer preaching combination and they were disarmed and charmed without doubt or question.

Mother Krsna Bava came out and began distributing the great Maha Cookies. Who could stand against the face of this representing transcendental knowledge and power?

Narada Muni, it was clear to me was linked up. It was Yoga he was dealing. Bhakta Yoga Pure, and no, no no, there was no stopping or topping it. It wasn't Narada, it was his connection and his surrender. There was no limit to what he or anyone might do under those circumstances. That is what he showed me.

But there were a couple of agitators in the back. "What do you do then if we don't listen to you?" I thought I saw rocks in these boy's hands.

Narada was totally undisturbed. It was almost as if these would be agitators were mere shills, I'm telling you. It was as if they were compulsed to act this foolish way, in order to round out this transcendental lesson we were all taking that morning in Columbus Ohio.

I thought to myself, "Hmm, what DO we do if they won't listen?" There were a lot of them ... many were munching cookies, but many were apparently drunk. Some of them looked like football players to me. If they did not listen what would we do? I wondered.

Narada held up his hand. Worried? I don't think so. He actually laughed. "If you don't listen, then we call the police," he responded smoothly. Just then the squad car Krpa Maya had called rolled quietly into the scene.

He'd held up his hand to wave. It was funny. Now wonder Narada was smiling and laughing. It was all covered, absolutely taken care of from every angle.

The cops had one of those flood lights by the driver's window. They panned us and the crowd. "Everything all right?"

Narada laughed again. "Sure!" he called. "Thanks."

The crowd was breaking up. One of the devotees offered the squad car officers some cookies.

That is one of my memories of Narada Muni I thank you for sharing with me. The boy seemed ideal as Temple President. He took me a very very long way. Reflecting on his activities today I am still learning and learning ... mostly because the more I think about it, the more I see that his activities were not at all his own ... that he made himself that via medium to the benefit of us all.

I never did get to say Narada, thank you so much! Narada, God Bless you and keep you and thank you for helping so many ... even the particularly recalcitrant among us ... we vandals you've stopped from in fact defacing yes, ourselves but time and time again.

One more thing: Two more ... I'll post a picture here of Narada ... that's one.

And the other: One day, at New Vrindabana, I was out side the Bahulabana Office, halfway down the stairs, by the office window, and Narada Muni was coming down the stairs, having just spoken with my Guru.

"I wish I had what Narada has," my Guru called out. It was like the old TV commercial you know ... "...when EF Hutton speaks, everyone listens."

It seemed almost as if the birds froze in flight to take a moment to hear.

Narada himself halted in his tracks, and hunched his shoulders as if he was going to be doused with water or something.

All was still. "What's that?" someone at last gave the straight line.

"Love of Krsna," my Guru sang out. He dropped his car in gear and sped off like punctuation.

Love of Krsna.

Hare Krsna.

Hare Krsna Hare Krsna Krsna Krsna Hare Hare!
Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare!

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