My Story
Stepping from the pavements into Hare Krishna Temple, I was entering a new world: loud and
lively yet peculiarly deep oriental chanting, aromas of incense, spices and eucalyptus
oil; devotees dressed in traditional Hindu garb, bowing to an altar. I felt transferred to
inner space.
A sari-clad young woman of a gentle demeanor invited me to sit on the floor. In the
best of age-old Indian tradition, she placed before me typical thali (stainless steel tray
used widely in India for eating). It held variety of bright and divers-colored
preparations; pale green cream, brown flat round things, wet yellow patties, bright pink
squares, beige diamond-shapes, some lumpy liquid, and white balls with green speckles on
top. She indicated that I was to eat. Was this food? The experience was most unusual.
Feeling very well looked after, my mind wandered back to childhood when my mother would
greed me after day's play with a glass of iced lemonade. The simple gesture of offering
foodstuff to a guest stirred in me the nostalgia of being at home again.
I examined and tasted every item on that tray, and each bite created culinary
sensation, very different from the typical sprouts/salads/juices experience of the nearby
vegetarian restaurant. Here some artist manifested his ecstasy, satisfying not only the
tongue, but feeding my heart. Very soon the platter was clean. A cloud of deja-vu
surrounded the experience. Maybe, in a previous life, such foods were my daily fare.
Pondering over this impression, I returned to my comfortable apartment. I was amazed
that while the Temple didn't have a chair to sit on, a plate of their food was enough to
send me to heavenly regions. This more than just milk, sugar, grains, fruits and
vegetables. It was a creation of love!
Of what use was it to continue eating alone, picking through unfriendly hard-boiled
eggs and commercial bread when just a short walk away, was a chance of having another
happy experience like the one I had a few days before? I headed towards the temple.
This time, I arrived in time for the midday meal: rice, dal, vegetables, chapaties,
salad and some sweets. It was all simple but wonderful. "What's your secret?" I
asked. My question inspired a bright smile. "Prasadam means mercy from Krishna,"
the devotees explained. "Food, when prepared in a spirit of devotion and offered to
Krishna becomes prasadam, or sanctified food. And like any offering to the Supreme Being,
food-stuff, when properly prepared in love and devotion, becomes perfect and complete,
just like Him." Now I could understand that when the devotees cook, they are not
simply engaged in trying to please their guests. Rather, they are meditating on that
Person who resides within the heart of everyone, including mine; Krishna, the Supreme
Personality of Godhead. And, like watering the root of a tree, all leaves and twigs become
fully satisfied. It became clear to me why food prepared for Krishna, the root of all
existence, is also perceived as completely satisfying by his parts and parcels, living
souls like you and me.
Actually, Sri Krishna, being God, is complete and perfect, fully satisfied in Himself.
He has no need for the material contents of our offerings. But He accepts offerings
brought to him in love and devotion. This idea is confirmed by Him in the 5000 year old
Indian scripture Bhagavad Gita, when He says:
"Whatever you do, whatever you eat, whatever you offer or
give away, and whatever austerities you perform - do that, O son of Kunti, as an offering
to Me". (Bhagavad Gita 9.27)
"If one offers Me with love and devotion a leaf, a
flower, fruit or water, I will accept it". (Bhagavad Gita 9.29)
"In this way you will be freed from bondage. With your
mind fixed on Me in this principle, you will be liberated and come to Me".
(Bhagavad Gita 9.28)
Rambhoru devi dasi
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