Monday, September 2, 2024

Dhanesvara Das Sannyasa / Manidhara / Hell in the Dham 09 02 24


Kamsa was simply astonished, after sending so many of his demon
friends to kill Krishna, they ended up defeated. Kamsa began to
realize, this baby boy has special divine protection.
It will not be very easy to defeat Him.


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Dhanesvara Das

August 31  

Here's the story of my taking sannyasa:

I had been preaching for three years in Ukraine and in 2008, when I was 59, I had a dream that I was wearing saffron and preaching to a large audience. Around that time I read where Srila Prabhupada wrote: "in this age sannyas is forbidden because most men cannot follow, but if you are following you must take sannyasa." 

I was following strictly so I decided to do apply. 

Going through the interviews with the "sannyas committee" everything was going ok, but then hit a snag when they required me lie, and participate in their politics in order to enter the ashrama. To which I immediately replied: "I will not do that. I can't begin this ashrama based on a lie!" And that was it for the time being.

More recently, desiring to enter the ashrama, I searched for an Iskcon sannyasi that would initiate me outside of the auspices of the GBC. I found someone who agreed on the condition that his name not be mentioned, because there would be negative consequences for him from the Iskcon Authorities. That is a sad commentary on the way things are now - the GBC doing their best to control everyone's spiritual life.

So no, I did NOT go to the Gaudiya Math, or any other group. I am in nobody's camp but Srila Prabhupada's, and I am his man eternally. Please disregard any rumors to the contrary.

PADA: Yeah, the ISKCON sannyasa committee is basically a joke. They make good people go away and they protect their bad people in the post of sannyasa. That being said, I do not recommend taking sannyasa from any ISKCON person, in secret or otherwise. 

At the same time, when ISKCON people come to PADA for advice and they are already initiated by an ISKCON guru -- and have a spiritual name, I tell them to keep the name and consider they were initiated on behalf of Srila Prahbupada. People trying to change their names -- and so on -- raises all sorts of problems for some people. 

So just keep your existing name, but consider yourself as the direct follower of Srila Prabhupada. There are too many political pressures connected to this issue at present, so keep it on the down low and only tell your trusted friends about your status. 

ys pd angel108b@yahoo.com 

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Reflections by Manidhara Das

One of the selfless pioneers of ISKCON, Manidhara Das Prabhu, raises concerns over the evolution of Krishna Consciousness Mission.

While in the past the public Harinama and the distribution of books were our "daily bread", today we see spiritual dignitaries inviting us to well-paid musical experiences, where the Holy Name becomes a mere spectacle rather than a call to action.

Gurus have transformed their role into paid artists who cater to the sensual needs of the audience, and Krishna Consciousness becomes little more than an “exotic species” in our everyday lives. Although this may increase the piety of “religious” individuals, selfishness and self-focused approach can lead to a gradual implosion of the whole mission, making it, at best, an internal matter.

Sannyasis live like mega-grhastas, enjoying unattainable luxuries for many grhastas, who struggle mostly without support, facing despair in their homes. This reflects the state we are in during the Kali Yuga Era.

Also, stay-at-home gurus, who never quote their guru or lack one, proliferate by introducing “news” or changing priorities set by Founder Acharya, without taking the time to properly care for themselves.

It is remarkable that many of these sannyasis seem to have renounced resignation itself. While "grhasta" means head of the family, many of the married people are so poor that they can't afford a house. In contrast, many sannyasis have luxurious homes and condominiums.

Recently, I heard a sannyasi explain why he needed a house in Mayapur worth over $100,000, despite only being there a few weeks a year, when he could stay in a free room at the temple during festivals. It's a shame some don't even realize that it's more practical to get what is needed instead of hoarding unnecessary possessions.


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An excerpt from Bhaktavasya devi dasi's book [Thanks Henry Doktorski]:

Hell in the Holy Dhama

Here we were, at the birthplace of Lord Krishna. The first thing I did was pay obeisances on the ground and scoop up a bit of earth to sprinkle on my head and on my daughter’s. As we entered the temple compound, I skipped paying respects to the Deities in the temple room, and asked to see [my young son] Ganga right away. Devananda went to find something to eat, and Revati and I waited in the sun filled reception room until a teacher brought him to us. 

As I went to hug him he put his arms up, as if to fend me off. I asked him later if it was because he was beaten, so it was an automatic reaction when someone approached him. He said no, that wasn’t the reason. It was because of the ‘man becomes weak when he is embraced by a woman’ indoctrination that started when he was with me in Chicago and was being taught to the boys in the school here.

But that wasn’t the worst of it; as soon as he lowered his arms I hugged him anyway, noticing as I did a scabbed over 3 inch cut on his neck. When I asked him what happened, he said that one of the teachers scrubbed his neck with a metal brush.

Enraged, I grabbed him by one hand and carrying my daughter, went unannounced into the office of the temple president, a brahmachari named Danu. I pointed out the wound on Ganga’s neck, repeating what he had told me and demanded an explanation. 

“Mataji,” he said, putting his hands up as if to indicate I should calm down. “What happened was Bhavananda Maharaj (the resident guru) noticed the boys’ necks were dirty and he said their necks should be scrubbed until they bled, and a teacher took him literally.” Then he smiled, like it was no big deal. I had to control the urge to leap over his desk and knock him off his chair. I looked at him incredulously, shaking my head to indicate that I couldn't believe he was making light of the act.

Danu quickly changed the subject, asking if I’d brought the tuition fees with me. I mumbled something about him seeing my husband about that and whisked the kids away before I did something like hurl some swear words, which would have been a sufficient enough reason to have me ejected from the property.
Ganga came with us to Bombay for a two week holiday. When I was alone with him, I broached the subject of the sexual abuse rumors. 

I wanted to believe, just as most devotees did, that it was just that, a rumour, because it seemed impossible that any devotee could harm one of ‘Krishna’s children’, and especially here in the holiest of holy places. Not wanting to put any vile images in his young mind, I found it difficult to put into words. “Did any of the teachers ever, um, do anything...try to do something that was..” 

Ganga answered my incomplete question. “Do you mean did any of the teachers ever try to have sex with me?” I was stunned. How could he know such a crime even existed? He continued. “Not me, but this one teacher, sometimes he comes in at night and takes some of the younger boys out of the room, and does things to them. The boys never say what he does, but I can hear them crying when they get back.” 

He quickly added “promise you won’t tell anybody that I told you, or they’ll beat me again.” Again? “I get beat all the time. One time they made me fast for the whole day and this really mean teacher, he locked me in an empty room with no windows. Lucky for me, Jagadish (the minister of education) found out and he let me out of the room and gave me some prasadam. And he yelled at that teacher, for doing that to me.” 

I couldn’t tell Devananda; I knew he wouldn’t believe Ganga and we had no money for a ticket to bring him back with us. I did tell him about Ganga being beaten, but of course Devananda’s answer to that was that Ganga was a bad kid, he probably deserved it. I felt I had no choice, I had to leave him in India, but I told him I would try to raise the money to bring him to Canada when I got back there. 

Before I left, Ganga asked me a surprise question. “Mata, how come that time I had malaria and almost died, you didn’t care?”

In March, during the Mayapur festival, the Gurukula boys were taken to Mayapur and some of them contracted malaria. The teacher who was in charge of the boys, “he was a nice one, I liked him”, wrote a letter to me in care of the Durban temple, saying that Ganga was very sick, they were afraid they might lose him, and that I should come there immediately. 

Someone had to have read that letter. I calculated the dates, from when I left Cape Town and flew to Durban and found out I was a month pregnant; February. In March or April, I was at the farm in Durban, with almost enough money for an emergency trip to India. Was this before or after I purchased the ticket for Ganga to come for the summer? 

My mind was reeling. Why didn’t someone in a position of authority place a long distance phone call and insist on speaking with me?

Is Tamas das really that evil? God, my poor boy. What have I done to him? He would have been better off in a ‘karmi school’ or with my family in the Soo. “I never got the letter" I said, and so he wouldn’t imagine the unthinkable, “it must have got lost in the mail. Or somebody just forgot to give it to me. I’m so sorry.” This time he let me hug him, his beautiful cherubic face brightening up, visibly relieved to hear this explanation.

We made a stop-over in Detroit before flying on to Toronto. I was depressed and conflicted with the information Ganga had given me. If I told I would be betraying his confidence, breaking my promise to him. But if this was going on, shouldn't everybody know? Especially the parents. I was sitting in one of the vacant rooms, crying as usual, when the temple president's wife, Sitarani, came in. She must have heard me.

"Prabhu, why are you crying when you just came back from the holy dhama?" she wanted to know. It all came pouring out. "Promise you won't tell..." I told her everything, including the promise Ganga made me make before he told me.

She said she wouldn't tell, but her son was due to be sent to India the following year so she went to the minister of education, Jai das, when he came for a visit soon after. She telephoned the Toronto temple to tell me that she'd spilled the beans, sorry, and that Jai das got very angry with her and denied anything of the sort had gone on in India. 

A few weeks later a letter came for me from India. It was from Jai das. The temple president had opened the letter (not unusual in Iskcon culture at the time) and told his wife that he didn't want to give it to me because it was so harsh. After all, I was about 7 months pregnant at the time. His wife told another woman and it of course got back to me. 

I insisted on reading it. Was Ganga okay? The temple president relented and gave me the letter. It had been sent cc to all Iskcon temples. In it, I was accused of being 'an enemy to the Hare Krishna movement', that I was 'going from temple to temple, spreading vicious lies about the gurukula'. I had to stop and take a breath before reading more. Jai das said that Ganga was questioned in front of the teachers and Bhavananda (the presiding guru for Vrindavan), and "he denied everything; obviously, the boy is a liar”.

He ended it by asking me did I think he and Bhavananda were fools. 

I thought of Ganga, being hauled in for questioning, how scared he must have been, surrounded by probably half a dozen big bullies, And how he must have felt betrayed by me. It was all my fault. I shouldn't have said anything, until he got back to Canada. 

I prayed for his swift return, and for the safety of my baby in the womb. What if I accidentally committed Vaishnav aparadha? What if Ganga made up the story to get out of gurukula, and who could blame him if he did? 

I began chanting the Nrsingha mantra almost constantly, alternating with the maha-mantra. On December 20, 1979, my third child was born. A healthy, (although a bit scrawny at first) son who I named Nrsinghananda (the bliss of Lord Nrsingha). On his birth certificate his name is Arthur, after his deceased paternal grand-father, (who both his widow and son agree, and they never agreed on anything except that) was a good man. 

Another letter came from India, from the head-master of the school. Ganga had been misbehaving more than usual, disrupting the program and a bad influence on the other students. He was being 'sent back, to my care'. They were so eager to get rid of him that they were paying for his ticket to Toronto. All glories to Lord Nrsingadev!

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