The Journey Home by Radhanath Swami: Impressions

I recently resigned from work, having decided to take a two-year sabbatical to study. I hope to change the course of my career and consequently my life, choosing my passion over a safe, set career. Coming upon the story of Radhanath Swami’s spiritual journey at a time like this was probably a sign. The account of a young American boy’s internal conflicts, his thirst for a higher purpose and his subsequent finding of a spiritual home resounded well with my state. That said, I was disappointed by the literary quality (or the lack thereof) of the book. When I chose this book to read and review, I was expecting something like ‘Autobiography  of  a Yogi’. But I realized soon that this book was nothing like that spiritual classic. (I really want to question that ‘International bestseller’ sticker on the cover of this edition.)

But that’s not to undermine the things I took away from ‘The Journey Home’. Radhanath Swami’s journey is extraordinary to say the least, and mere mortals like us can only look on with awe and reverence.  Born Richard ‘Monk’ Slavin, Radhanath Swami’s childhood was spent surrounded by noble Jewish parents in an American suburb. In his youth, he discovered the counterculture of the hippies and did everything that the flower children did. At the age of 19, he set out to backpack across Europe with his friends to experience the adventure called life. But the call of the divine took him further on from Europe onward to India on a road trip. Travelling alone and often penniless, Monk experienced a number of thrilling, sometimes life-threatening, episodes as he crossed Turkey, Afghanistan, Pakistan, etc. en route.

Once in India, the author roamed the country, especially through the Himalayas and other holy places. He met the most accomplished Yogis and lamas, got a taste of the different spiritual schools and teachers, and spent months as an ascetic, observing strict austerities. He lived in caves, under trees, by river banks and begged for food, living like a true sadhu. But his heart would not find refuge in one place or philosophy, until he landed in Vrindavan. There, he discovered Krishna, the path of Bhakti Yoga, and ultimately his guru in Srila Prabhupada (the famed founder of ISKCON).

While Radhanath Swami’s journey is awe-inspiring, the book often gets boring to read. Whatever else he may be, Radhanath Swami is not a writer. His lack of skill makes even the most fantastic instances sound ordinary, and the spiritual insights he offers – peppered in italics through the book – often sound juvenile. It may be that these ‘insights’ were that of a 20-year-old American boy and hence are the way they are, or it is purely poor writing. I can imagine the editors of this book pussyfooting around the author because of his spiritual stature. Also the testimonials by famous people seem to have been made more because they couldn't turn down a holy man rather than because of the quality of the book. But as a reader and a critic, I find it hard to ignore the subpar literary production. So, unless you are particularly interested in the man and his mission, you can give this book a miss.

The Mysterious Dreams by Nandita Chakraborty Banerjji: Impressions

The title - The Mysterious Dreams - sounded interesting, and I had been waiting for the parcel to arrive from the Castle of Books. When it did, I excitedly tore the package open. But I could hardly mask my disappointment when I saw the cover of the book. Look at it! A specimen of bad design from a cheap design agency. As if the main image lifted off some stock photo site wasn't bad enough, the silly illustration of a man's fat face with an even fatter moustache on the water totally kills it. What was the graphic artist thinking? It's just sad, because a casual browser will never pick this book up, attracted by the cover. A pity, because the book has quite a bit to offer...

The author, Nandita Chakraborty Banerjji, has a LOT to say. The book is packed, from cover to cover, with  a lot of information woven, often unsuccessfully, into the plot. The plot itself is rather flimsy. It can easily be summarised in one line. Bengali girl meets hippie boy, they elope, they live together for a bit, he leaves her alone, and a sad end. More about it later.

The author does not lose even half an opportunity to share possibly everything she has learnt in this life. She talks about the America-Vietnam war, the Hippie movement, the state of Nuclear armament, popular music - from the Beatles to Bangla Baul, the uses of Hemp, Woodstock, Mardi Gras, drug abuse, Bengali culture, religion, cancer, ISKCON, tie-dye, terrorism, women's lib, consumerism, environment, Rabindra Sangeet...phew!

But I wasn't complaining because many of these ideas are very close to my heart, and the others, I've always wanted to know about - the Vietnam War and the Hippy movement, for example. Since my generation is historically so close to these events, I've grown up with these terms floating around in the media ever since I can remember. But I never really cared to go to Wikipedia and understand what it was that so many movies were made about or so many newspapers spoke about. Banerjji explains succinctly, though in the short, the relation between and the evolution of both these events that have shaped the present state of America, and consequently the rest of the world. The book is really a social commentary on the significant social, political and cultural changes that have taken place in the last half a century - both in the Western world and the Eastern.

Speaking of the Eastern world, the author makes many an accurate observations about the middle class society in Mumbai, Goa and Kolkata - places her protagonist, Shibani, goes to. Her notes, particularly about the Bengali way of life, its customs and belief systems were highly recognisable and even endearing to me. She also writes about life in the 60s and 70s in America whilst describing the life of the other protagonist, Chris, but their accuracy I can only guess at.

Coming back to the plot, we first meet the central character of Shibani as a teenager living in Mumbai with her parents. Aside from doing the normal teen things, Shibani lives with one constant nightmare. The nightmare is mentioned in the first few chapters and then the author seems to forget about it. By this time, Shibani has met an American hippie, Chris, who comes with a whole lot of issues, including mommy-daddy issues, drug issues, and peace issues. Chris has come to India looking for spiritual answers and following his romance with Shibani, they elope to Goa. After a few blissful years of living in, Chris leaves Shibani alone and returns to America. Shibani is stranded and after a few years of waiting for Chris decides to go back to her native place in Kolkata. The parallel lives of Chris and Shibani are rather aimless and drug-fuelled, signifying perhaps the way real hippies lived. With a rather sudden turn of events, we suddenly find that Chris has turned into an unwilling saint-terrorist having come back to India, and that Shibani has decided to go to America in search of Chris. When they do meet by chance at the Mumbai airport, both are so wasted they don't recognise each other. Then the said mysterious dream makes a reappearance to forcefully connect the dots before the story tragically ends. Why the author chose the title, The Mysterious Dreams still remains a mystery to me.

The book is quirky at best. Read it, if not for the sad-strange story, but for the many tidbits of information that you are not again likely to find all in one place.        

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Castle of Books is the agency responsible for the author promotion for this book. 

Find them on FB too at http://www.facebook.com/Castleofbuks. Read more about the author on http://www.nanditabanerjee.com/           

        

FIRST REBELLIONS

With the beginning of junior college, began the quest for finding myself. A school-going kid no more, I did what most teens do - rebel. My rebellion came in the form of an obsession with ISKCON. I fancied that place from the time I visited their headquarters in Mayapur, and when their centre came close to home in Nagpur, there was no stopping me. I’d spend hours at the temple, getting involved in more ways than one even as my parents protested louder and louder. Meanwhile, gathering puppy loves became another favourite game, much to the chagrin of my father. The next few poems were written in the phase where I found love and inspiration in God and some men.


I need your support (1999)
Lord, today I am really alone,
And am feeling very lonely.
I feel I have got none,
To care about me.
Nobody is concerned,
About my feelings.
There’s no one to bother,
About my dealings.
At this moment,
I feel very dejected.
Very avoided and very neglected.
The people who I thought loved me,
Are not by my side,
They have abandoned me,
To face the lone fight.
At this juncture,
I need you Lord,
I need your help,
I need your support.
You are always beside me,
And that I know,
In moments of sadness,
In moments of sorrow.
You comfort me,
When I am disheartened.
You give me courage,
When I’m frightened.
And yet I need you all the time,
All the moments, all the while.
Help me wake up
From the slumber of grief.
Help me be stronger,
And find some relief.
That is all I have to pray,
To you my Lord,
Throughout the day.
In the fight for justice,
In life’s court,
I need your help,
I need your support.

Your role in my life (1999)
I am so happy to have you near me,
And that life’s beautiful, I’m beginning to see.
You have brought back the smile on my face,
You have taught me to run life’s race.
You have brought joys in my life once more,
The joys which I never knew before.
Each time you see me; I feel a gush of pleasure,
So I think of you in my leisure.
You have occupied a very special place in my heart,
Though it’s only a short time since we met,
I fear you’ve become an inseparable part.
The very thought of separation scares me,
I don’t know without you how life’s going to be.
I do love you dearly with my soul and heart,
And our bond will be like “Till death do us part.”
Now you know what your role in my life is,
Do not forget me, cause I never will.


I’ll be missing you (1999)
 Right at this moment, I do not know,
The feeling I have is very new.
But all I can say is that when you go,
I’ll be desperately missing you.

You were my strength when I was weak,
Your love for me was so very true,
You were the help that I did seek,
And so I’ll be badly missing you.

Yu were dear to me right from the start,
Your value in my life I always knew.
You’ll be in a special place in my heart,
And I’ll be sorely missing you.

You’ll always be precious t me, so,
In every little thing I do,
In every little place I go,
I’ll be truly missing you.

I ask you to forgive me,
For the faults more or few,
And I always want you to see,
That I’ll be really missing you.

It’s time for you to leave this track,
And for me to bid you a sad adieu,
I’ll pray to God that you come back,
Because I’ll always be missing you.


I’m always there for you (1999)
If life is a song, I’ll sing it for you,
If life is a gift, I’ll bring it for you.
If life is a journey, I’ll walk for you.
If life is a burden, I’ll carry it through.
All I have to say is that,
Wherever you are,
And in whatever you do,
I’m always there for you.
If life is a mystery, I’ll solve it for you.
If life is a game, I’ll play it for you.
If life is a battle, I’ll fight it for you.
If life is a storm, I’ll brave it through.
All I have to say is that,
Wherever you are,
And in whatever you do,
I’m always there for you.
Because my love for you is pure like dew,
My love for you is really, really true.
In times when you’re sad,
I’ll be there by your side.
In times when you’re in pain,
With you I’ll abide.
Whenever you need me,
Call me through.
Because, my life, my love,
I’m always there for you.

An unspoken relation (1999)
The bee hums by,
And sits on the flower.
Sipping on nectar,
Buzzing by the bower.
Asks the shy flower,
“What is the meaning,
of this bond’s formation?”
Answers the bee,
“It’s an unspoken relation.”
The sky turns grey,
Clouds come fleeting by,
The peacock dances joyfully,
With spirits very high.
Asks the coy bird,
“What is the meaning,
of this union’s creation?”
Answers the cloud,
“It’s an unspoken relation.”
The moon rises high,
Shining in full splendour,
The tuberoses smile,
At his endeavour.
Ask the flowers softly,
“What is the meaning?
Of this affinity’s generation?”
Answers the moon,
“It’s an unspoken relation.”
I come near you,
And see you with arms open.
My heart skips a beat,
My feelings for you deepen.
I ask myself,
“What is the meaning,
of our attraction?”
Yet you answer,
“It’s an unspoken relation.”

Waiting for you (1999)
As the dawn arrives,
And the sun rises,
I wait for it to set,
So that the day soon passes.
But the sun seems to take,
Such a long time.
To cross the whole sky,
As the days crawls by.
A day seems like ages,
When I’m waiting for you,
So eagerly and anxiously,
With love so true.
I sit at the door,
And stare at the road.
Day after day,
Night after night
With such avidity,
At every sound or sight.
Repeating every hour,
“When will you come?
Oh, when will you come?”
I am waiting all the time,
Because without you,
I’m very lonesome.

The New Year (2000)
As the new sun dawns,
In the new sky,
The new dew settles,
And the new birds fly.
Now, I wonder why,
I call everything new
Though same is the sun,
The sky, birds and dew.
Is it an illusion?
Or is it my view?
Is it my imagination?
Or the year that is new?
Maybe it’s the new year,
Which instigates me,
All things seem different,
In whatever I see.
Hoping for the best,
Of all that’s yet to come.
A little bit of sorrow,
And happiness some.
With an open heart,
I welcome the coming days,
And add joy to every life,
That comes my way.

Your eyes (2000)
Your mysterious eyes,
What message do they give?
The look that they have,
Give me the strength to live.
Your assuring eyes,
To me what do they say?
That you’ll be mine,
Near me you’ll always stay.
Your sincere eyes,
What do they speak?
That you’ll hold me tight,
Whenever I’m weak.
Your promising eyes,
What do they tell?
That you’ll lift me up,
On my way if I fell.
Your affectionate eyes,
What feelings do they convey?
That you’ll love me life long,
On every path and way.
Your beautiful eyes,
Have the infinity of the sky,
The depth of the ocean
And the glow of stars so high.
Looking at your gentle eyes,
I’ll live my whole life,
Receiving courage from them,
I’ll win every strife.

Surrender (2001)
I had always lived life
In the way I’d wanted.
Taking things as they came,
Facing life undaunted.
Tragedies failed to rock me,
By defeats, I wasn’t deterred,
Emotions couldn’t move me,
In life, I’d never deterred.
My head was always high,
Held up with ego and pride,
But at that point in time,
You weren’t by my side.
You gave me selfless love,
So much love and ardor,
That it melted my cold heart
And made it your prisoner.
Your love it was
That made me humble and low.
It shattered my pretensions
And faltered my ego.
You taught me what
Life was all about.
It’s love, laughter and care,
Sincere and without a doubt.
Now that I know more
It’s then that I realize,
That with ego and pride I’d paid,
A very heavy price.
Knowing the world better,
I surrender at your feet,
And as a changed person now,
I admit my defeat.