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Tolerance

Radhanath Swami, always loving and caring

Its not unusual to find Radhanath Swami to be in midst of important engagements but still be conscious of apparently simpler things in life. However, on this occasion my opinion was nearly challenged. Radhanath Swami’s secretary was sick and had to be admitted in the hospital. I was trying to fill in the gap and I was expecting that why Radhanath Swami is not asking anything about his secretary.

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Tolerance

Radhanath Swami Bears the Burden of Love….

Scene 1: Radhanath Swami returns to the banks, drenched in the icy cold waters of the Alaknanda River. But his clothes!!! They aren’t there, where he had left them. A pilgrim comes up and brags, that those clothes are now spotlessly clean. Gleefully he points in the direction where he spread out the clothes on a rock for drying.

The chilly winds are far from being co-operative. Under their sway the moist-clothes have frozen into a crisp icy-ware. Radhanath Swami puts them on, with no complaints.

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Is it the same Radhanath Swami?

Psychic bafflement was the state my mind was cast into on the evening of 31 January 2011.

First time, when I entered his room, Radhanath Swami’s demeanor effused weariness. A rocking chair held him in a sitting posture, still he seemed half asleep. A book held in his hand deserved a better grip, to avoid a fall.

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Choosing a Spot for Radhanath Swami

Our little group made a curious sight for the local villagers: though clad in traditional Vedic attire—dhoti and kurta—we had red sports-cap on. We security volunteers wore them to distinguish ourselves from the other pilgrims during this pilgrimage to Vrindavan.

Rice paddies stretched out on all sides. We scurried—one behind the other—along the narrow bank that enclosed the swampy paddy fields, heading towards Malhar Kund way ahead of Radhanath Swami and the other thousand-odd pilgrims. Before they arrived there we had to search out a suitable location for Radhanath Swami to sit and discourse,

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When Radhanath Swami had a Headache

As I silently moved towards the door—my heart pounding—and extended my hand to knock, a voice held me back. It was my own mind, reminding me of Radhanath Swami’s request that he not be disturbed. He was inside, behind that closed door, suffering from a splitting headache.

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