My Shree Yamunashtakam

My Shree YamunashtakamThe Chanting Sessions

Amma was the first person to introduce me to the Yamunashtakam. I was a young girl back then. Well, she didn’t really introduce me to it. She forced me to learn it. I don’t know how she managed to do so. She even compelled me to attend the chanting sessions that were organized by the women of our community. They would gather together every Tuesday to recite the Yamunashtakam 21 times! That’s a big number.

And I would sit there beside a pillar, look into the ‘Path’ book and recite it along with them with a sullen face. Amma knew what she was doing for me. It’s obvious. But I will state it anyway. I didn’t like it. Not one bit. At that time, I didn’t even realize what she was doing for me. She had sown the seeds of faith within me.

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Seva

I saw Amma and Pappaji doing ‘seva’ for over two decades of my life. They would wake up at 4.30 a.m. every day, even on Sundays, to do their ‘Path’ before that. They still do. We have a century old temple dedicated to Natvarlalji in our home. All the festivals are celebrated with grandeur even today. The Hindola, the Phool Mandali, the Tulsi Vivah, Krishna Janam, the Goverdhan Puja, Annakoot et al. It was fun to do the ‘Darshan’. It was even more fun to eat those varieties of ‘Prasad’. I loved it all.

It was only when I set up my own home and took up the responsibility of taking care of my family that I realized the depth of their faith and the sincerity of their seva. And I wondered where they got that kind of energy to do so much for God! I was awed by it all. But I never thought much about it though. I was too caught up with my own life to think much about my maternal home now. But I knew one thing for sure. I did not have the courage, the inclination or the time to do that kind of seva. There was always so much to do and take care of.

I decided that they lived in a world of their own just like I lived in a world of my own. But I was happy that they were happy in their own world. And I was happier that they never tried to impose their concept of God on me.

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Questions

I was a rebel back then. And I guess I still am. I would question Pappaji and Amma about ‘Pushti Marg’ at the oddest of hours.But I could never grasp what they tried to say. Pappaji would just end such conversations with a simple “Jai Shree Krishna”. Yes, he was right. He knew I was not ready for it yet. And he didn’t know if I would ever be ready for God. But he had enough faith in Natvarlalji. He was happy that I was happy doing the things I loved the most and that was enough for him.

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But no answers

A few years later, I did not know why but I would get extremely annoyed if I was forced to miss the prayer sessions to attend a meeting or take up an extra class. Meetings and classes could wait, couldn’t they? But I wasn’t given a choice!

I wondered about the strange attitude that my two best friends had. One  coolly caught up on her correction, while the other preferred to attend the prayer sessions from the staff room. Yet they always exuded a calmness that eluded me.

I would often discuss the concept of God with one of them. My questions would begin with “Why?” Her answers would begin with “How!” I never got the answers or the solutions I was looking for. I only got strange and abstract notions of that unknown force. But I did wonder about it all. I couldn’t figure it out. So I stopped trying, shrugged my shoulders and moved on with my life.

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Prayers

I was awestruck again when I met my Korean, Iraqi and Iranian students. My Korean students never prayed. They so simply said that Buddhism was practised in their country but they never prayed! Never? I wondered about that. Yet they were such transparent, simple, direct souls. Life did not seem so complex to them.

I was shocked out of my wits when I met that lovely Iranian woman. She couldn’t speak a single sentence in English correctly. Yet she knew more about Hinduism and India than I did. And that dear Iraqi boy and I always ended up having extremely interesting conversations about the religions that we practised. I was impressed by the fact that he prayed five times in a day every day.

He brought a voluminous book of Hadiths to our class one day and was surprised when I said I would read it. A few days later he asked me if any of it made any sense to me. He was even more surprised when I told him that we Hindus – Indians too believed in mostly the same things.

All these interactions had not brought me any closer to God. He was my friend, philosopher and guide. He was someone whom I could call upon at any time. I knew he was always around me somewhere. That was enough for me. I knew a few school prayers. They made complete sense to me. I sang them whenever I was in the mood to do so.

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The miracle

I relive that experience every time I think about it. And I wonder about it very often even today. I had only questioned Him, tested Him and discussed about Him so far in my life. I had prayed to him whenever I had the time and the inclination to do so.

Yet he had sent those five angels into my life at the most crucial juncture. An unknown taxi driver, a hotel receptionist and the timely help of a doctor had saved my spouse’s life. My sister and my Jiju had rushed him to the hospital on a Sunday afternoon and ensured that he got timely medical help. Today, my spouse is alive only because of these angels.

My sister has played a major role in changing the course of my life. She has shaped me in so many ways. But that day she was no less than God to me. You have to meet souls like her to realize the worth of what I am saying. She, like Amma and Pappaji and Murali, is a giver. She gives of herself – anytime – all the time. And I? I continue to take from them all – all the time. My sister and Jiju attend classes and lectures on spirituality regularly. But I know that God has created a special place for himself in her heart.

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Acceptance

Murali? He’s my little brother. We would dress him up like a girl and tease him endlessly when we were young. He would take it all in his stride quietly with a smile. He still smiles quietly accepting everything – even God’s grace calmly. I think deep faith blesses him with that kind of equanimity. I wonder if I could ever reach that kind of a state in my life. After a while, I just stopped wondering and accepted him the way he was. It was easier for me that way.

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The rationalist

My equation with God changed a little after that experience. Just a little though. I felt more grateful now. But I had a new excuse now. ‘Stress’ prevented me from forging a deep bond of faith. Menopause, a spouse who constantly travelled, a son who was boycotted by his peers in college… life wasn’t very pretty.

Then the second miracle occurred. I had not interacted with this cousin for over two decades now. We just dropped a line to each other whenever we got the time to do so. Was it just a “co-incidence” that he was posted to the city that we currently lived in? I missed my husband a lot every single day. And it was as if God had sent my cousin to give me some moral support and fill that strange void within me.

He is a rationalist – to the core. Even today he continues to make me think in different ways. I can never think like him. I am irrational. All the time. Yet he would drag me to do Darshan in the beautiful pandals that were set up during Ganesh Chaturthi at the oddest of hours. I think he still finds it difficult to analyse the concept of God using his unquestionable logic. But I also know that deep down he believes in Him too. Yet he won’t accept this – even to himself.

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A different kind of seva

And then our Musketeer knows so many nuances of the rituals that are practised in our home. But she believes in a seva of a different kind. She takes care of all the trees and the plants in her backyard. She is a naturalist par excellence because she has got the most special blessings from Bhudevi. It’s amazing really to see her connect to God in her own unique way. I continue to admire her and respect her because I know I am incapable of this kind of seva.   

And my senior most cousin enjoys Krishna’s leela every day. Her life revolves around the little gopas and gopis of her small school. I can see the bhakti with which she moulds each one of them. Krishna gives her endless energy and I? I am honoured by the immense faith that she has in my ideas.  

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Unconditional love

My kaka and my mama are scholars and educationalists. I am always impressed by their immense knowledge. I have only a fraction of their knowledge. But I can argue with them over anything and everything every time and anytime – and win too. They will smile and laugh and nod their head in agreement and run out of words – because they have faith in me. And also because they love me unconditionally.

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My Jumnajis

God is a good soul indeed. I hadn’t yet forged a deep bond of faith with him. Yet he sends me an abundance of faith through these people. They are my Jumnajis. I am who I am and where I am today only because of them. And this book would not have been possible without their blessings. They will never accept it. I know that all of them will ask me to edit, rewrite or delete this part of the book. They also know I will ignore them. Completely.

Okay. I did experience the grace of God. But I wasn’t really doing anything to connect to him regularly. So I had to learn it the hard way. I was taking my blessings for granted.

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Fear

Hospitals can sober us to the harsh realities of life in an instant. It came like a bolt out of the blue. And was filled to the brim with a different kind of fear. It paralysed my spouse and me. Things spiralled out of control and both of us could not do anything about anything. We could only witness it mutely.

This ‘fear’ forced me to do my best to keep things in control. But I quickly realized I couldn’t keep things in control all the time because actually nothing was in my control. I had been fighting my fears for years together now. It was time now to confront them and deal with them.

I remembered the words that my son had uttered in absolute fury a couple of years back. “Do something worthwhile Ma. Write that book that you always wanted too. Do anything. Something. But don’t pass on your fears to me!” I can never forget that day. I had cried for days together after that. He was right. My son could see what I had failed to see for years. I admired him. I respected him. But I wondered if I could ever be like him.

Suddenly all those excuses that I had always resorted to, all those questions that I had always had – paled into insignificance. I realized that I had to drop every single barrier – without asking any questions – if I wanted to forge a deep bond of faith with God.

He didn’t need me. I needed him. Desperately. He had always been around me – all the time. But now I was ready to make that effort to get to know him better. To feel closer to him. No. To keep those fears away. And to keep that pain away. To regain the equanimity that I was yearning for.

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Faith

I decided not to let my fears overwhelm me so much. I started chanting the Yamunashtakam again. The verses seemed familiar. I thought of the day that Amma had forced me to learn it. It had taken me three decades to realize the worth of her words.

And as I started chanting, I felt more in control of my life. The fear was replaced with stillness, calmness. I felt more at peace more often now. So I felt like chanting more often. Now I felt like learning it perfectly. Yet that inquisitiveness within me refused to leave. I wanted to know the meaning of the lyrics too. So I googled a bit but was not satisfied with what I came across. I knew something was eluding me. But I did not know what. I knew I would find whatever I was looking for when I wrote this book.

And this is what I found. I cannot limit the essence of God to one quality. But if I have to do so this is what it would be: Where there is faith – there is no fear.

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The book

I was also totally fed up of catering to the whims and fancies of my clients. I decided to take a break and work on a small ebook on the Yamunashtakam. It has only 9 verses in it – I thought to myself. I was sure I could finish working on it within a fortnight or a month at the most.

But when I did get down to working on it – I felt like giving up on it almost every single day. My jaw dropped in wonder and amazement. I unearthed layers and layers of new meanings every day. I was stunned. It was clear that I did not know what I was getting into. I was overwhelmed by it all. And I often felt I could never do justice to this kind of work. I was making a foolish and vain attempt to understand an unfathomable entity like God.

But I was also getting excited about all the ‘new?’ stories that I was stumbling upon each day. I made new connections every now and then. I would eagerly discuss them with my spouse when we had our dinner. He would listen to me patiently, eat his dinner quietly with or without the pickle depending on whether I had added salt or forgotten to do so. He would then look at me directly and say, “This will never make any sense to me. Why don’t you discuss it with Pappaji when you go there to meet him next month?” I would scowl and glare at him. It had zero impact on him.

But this man would unfailingly go out of the way to help me with all the household chores each day – freeing me up to work on the things that I believed in. He never questioned me. He never asked me what I was working on and how much progress I had made. Yet he gave me the most beautiful gift of all – an abundance of faith! And I respected him and loved him all the more for that.

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Finding a path

I could connect the dots only while working on the book. What worked for my family, friends or students would never work for me. I had to choose a path that was most convenient for me at any point of time in my life. So I chose the path of chanting the Yamunashtakam. And I felt a little peaceful because I had finally taken the first step of my journey.

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The journey

I was happy with the path that I had chosen because I knew this journey of mine would be a personal one. A hundred others may walk along with me on my path. They may or may not practise the religion that I believe in. They may or may not believe in the things that I believe in. The path may be the same. But the journeys would always be different. That gave me ample space to explore God at my own pace. I wanted to connect to my own concept of God in my own personal way because I did not know if I could really connect to the concept of God that others believed in.

I knew I was unique. My fears, pain, happiness, beliefs and values were unique too. I had an abundance of love and faith in life. That gave me all the moral courage and support I wanted. But at the end of the day I had to fight my own battles. And for that to happen – I needed to create my own personal concept of God and make my own personal journey to connect to him.

That is the essence of Pushti Marg and Vallabhacharya’s teachings. And that is what Pappaji had been trying to tell me all through these years! I guess I learn some things only the hard way.

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The essence of God

So yes, this book is also a personal journey, a personal interpretation. What works for me may not work for you. What works for you may not work for me. But when we discuss, question, observe and reflect on what we discover in our individual journeys – we realize that at the end of our personal journeys – we have all discovered and experienced the same essence of God.

I just hope for two things. I hope you are able to make these special personal inner journeys to discover the God that lies within you. And I hope I am able to connect to the God that lies within you. 

                                           ∞ Jai Shree Krishna ∞

My Shree Yamunashtakam

First photo given by Shri. Krishna Akhileshji.

Please click here to read my personal interpretation titled: My  Shree Yamunashtakam.

Please click here to read Yamunaji stories.