Dhanurdhara Swami November 2nd, 2000
Went to Vrindaban for the day for a few needed errands. The driver was passionate and half-mad. His association was disturbing.
Staying in a secluded place, regulating one’s life, and associating with the holy name elevates ones modes quickly. I felt very peaceful and pensive and determined not to become infected by the passion of the day. The main business of a brahmana in the days of yore was the cultivation of goodness. I was also feeling protective of my carefully cultivated mode over the past few weeks. You cannot be happy to sit and chant for long periods of time if one is too influenced by passion (distraction) and ignorance (sleep). As I watched our madly honking and swerving driver I could understand clearly why the brahmanas were so careful with what they ate and whom they associated with.
?Dhire! Dhire!? [Hindi for slow down] I tell the driver. He ignores me. ?Dhire! Dhire!? I raise my voice. He ignores me. ?DHIRE! DHIRE!? I shout at the driver. He angrily mumbles something back. I’m ready to kill him (figuratively), but continue my chanting?no longer peaceful, no longer attentive.
Three hours in Vrindaban: I met with Partha Sarathi Prabhu, who is staying in my room, and had a deep discussion with him; heard Fakir Mohan speak next door; exchanged jokes with Dadu; greeted Kurma Rupa; checked the sale of my book at Rasabihari Lal?s; picked up two sets of clothes at Ganga Prasad?s; accepted an invitation for a sumptuous Bengali gourmet lunch with Bhakti Vidya Purna Maharaja, cooked by his disciple; rasa with Balaram Baba; and a warm greeting from my close friend Udayaram?the old sadhu who keeps the neighborhood free of monkeys with his slingshot. I also met Mother Sacideva, Mani Mayi, Sunita, and others as I rush madly from one place to another so that I may quickly return to Govardhana.