Sri Radha Govinda, Amsterdam NL

Sri Radha Govinda, Amsterdam NL
Sri Radha Govinda, Amsterdam NL (Personal Deities)

30 October 2010

Meditations for the month of Damodar (Kartik, October/ November)

Ten prayers submitted to Lord Damodara’s lotus feet


O Damodara! Due to Your childish restless nature, mother Yasoda is always in great anxiety to protect You from the horns of cows and bulls, the teeth of monkeys, beaks and claws of birds, from fire, water and other imagined dangers. Always anxious to keep You safe and at the same time to execute her household duties, she knows no tranquility. May a tiny drop of Yasoda’s ecstasy in parental love enter my heart and drown all my so-called duties cultivated independently of You over innumerable births.


O Damodara! Bent on mischief, every morning at sunrise You visit the houses of Yasoda’s gopi friends. There, You let loose the calves before milking and then steal the gopis’ stocks of butter and yogurt. If someone calls, “Hey thief, stop!” You become angry and shout back, “I am not thief, you are thief!” May the truth of Your sweet words enter my heart and eradicate the deep rooted propensity to steal from You that I have nurtured over innumerable births.


O Damodara! With a mischievous smile You tell Yasoda, “Mother, you should know that I am expert at this art of stealing.” Thus, You plunder the gopis’ storerooms of butter and yogurt and feed the assembled monkeys. When the monkeys are satiated and will eat no more, You call the gopis and chide them, “Just see, this butter and yogurt is so useless even the monkeys wont take it!” May that vision of Your butter smeared lotus hands enter my heart and feed to satiation the assembled monkeys of kama (lust), krodha (anger), moha (illusion), mada (intoxication) and matsarya (envy) so that they will cease their incessant demands made on me over innumerable births.


O Damodara! When Your pastime of drinking milk from the breast of mother Yasoda was abruptly interrupted as she rushed to the stove to attend to an overflowing pot of boiling milk, You became very angry, bit Your lips, red like the bimba fruit, and cried false tears. Then, in retaliation, You picked up a stone and broke her churning pot causing all the yogurt to spill out. May that stone enter my heart and smash to pieces the unlimited pots filled with sinful activities I accumulated over innumerable births.


O Damodara! When caught by mother Yasoda after breaking her churning pot, You became afraid and admitted to being an offender. You cried in fear of her and Your tears mixed with the kajal (black ointment) around Your eyes. As You rubbed Your eyes with Your small lotus hands that kajal smeared over Your enchanting face. May that vision of Your kajal smeared hands enter my heart and wipe away the black layers of sinful recalcitrance encrusted there over innumerable births.


O Damodara! Although You delivered the two sons of the demigod Kuvera from the form of arjunatrees, You remained firmly tied by the love of mother Yasoda to a wooden grinding mortar. Why is this? To understand it is not the play of some incompetent fool. It is to show the yogis who drill their breath over lifetimes, the jnanis who assiduously cultivate knowledge and the tapasvis who undergo mortifying austerities that You can be bound only by the ropes of unalloyed love. May that mortar to which Yasoda bound You enter my heart and grind to dust the enormous mountains of false ego I accumulated over innumerable births.


O Damodara! When, by pulling on the rope tied to the grinding mortar, You caused the two tall arjuna trees to crash to the ground, they made a tumultuous sound that shook the entire universe. In great anxiety Nanda Maharaja came running to the spot. When he saw You unharmed, sitting peacefully between the fallen trunks, he smiled and immediately untied the knots that bound you to the grinding mortar. May that vision of the lotus hands of Nanda Baba enter my heart and untie the grovel of knots of the ropes of offensive activities which have bound me for innumerable births.


O Damodara! With the offer of half a sweet the gopis induce You to dance in the courtyards of Gokula. As they clap their hands to keep time, You gracefully move Your enchanting small lotus feet in a wide circle while gesturing artfully with Your hands. May the sound of the gopis’ clapping enter my heart and chase away the countless crows of sinful habits that have perched there over innumerable births.


O Damodara! Just to invoke the transcendental pleasure of the gopis, at their request You bring them various items such as a wooden plank or a wooden measuring pot. When unable to lift a requested item, You simply touch it and just stand there smiling and to show them You have sufficient strength You clap Your hands over Your arms in an heroic pose. May the vision of that heroic pose enter my heart and frighten off the host of demons I assembled there over innumerable births.


O Damodara! One day a fruit vendor came calling before the house of Nanda Maharaja. Imitating the vaisya custom of barter, You took some grains in Your hands to exchange for fruit. However, Your lotus palms were very small and in Your eagerness You were not careful to hold the grains tight; nonetheless, the vendor immediately filled Your hands with fruit; not in exchange for the few remaining grains, but for Your enchanting smile. I may not see Your glorious, gentle smile for millions of births—and that’s all right—but at least grant me those few grains so that I may exchange them for the fruits of the sinful acts stored in my heart over innumerable births.