Vyasa Puja offering to Srila Prabhupada 2015

(view 2015 offerings by disciples)

 

Dear Śrīla Prabhupāda,
Please accept my obeisances in the dust of your lotus feet.
The universal truth for embodied souls in this world is that, abandoning our material forms, we will all
leave the present lifetime behind.
What will be my lamentation at the final moments? Hospice caregivers say that when the dying finally
accept their imminent departure, usually one or more of five prime lamentations engulf them:
* Why did work consume so much of my life?
* Why did I, through the various phases of life, let key friendships slip away?
* Why didn’t I allow myself to be more happy?
* Why didn’t I express my real feelings more?
* Why didn’t I live more true to myself rather than to others’ expectations?
Owing only to your divine intervention, none of this typical departure-bed grief will assail us. Rescuing
your followers from Kali’s kingdom of nescience, you have bestowed upon us the divine opportunity to end
our brief stay in the body with no material regrets. 
Yet Vaiṣṇavas can feel purely spiritual lamentations as they exit. Mādhavendra Purī’s disappearance
from the ordinary vision of this world is the paragon of nonmaterial remorse and self-reproach. His apparent
expression of failure demonstrated the highest attainment of eternal, spiritual existence. Mathurā nā pāinu:
“I could not attain the shelter of Mathurā!”
While worshiping that zenith of prema from a respectful distance, I seek to present to you my own major
spiritual regret—accompanying me now, even before death knocks.
Why did I wait so long to come to your service?
Yes, I began at age twenty-two. But crucial years passed before I developed enough bhakti life-experience
to wholesomely benefit others.
Why not the greater fortune of arriving at your feet earlier—say, at eighteen, intact and ready for full
devotional action? Age twelve would have been even better—no roller-coaster bewilderment typical of both
teenage and young adult life outside of bhakti’s regimen.
The ultimate benediction, in this world, though, would have been to take birth as your pure servant and
from as early an age as possible exhibit full competence for executing your purposes, thus remaining fixed
eternally as your menial assistant.
Whether in life or death, I beg for the strength to hold high above my head the closing words of your
Vyāsa-pūjā offering to Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī Ṭhākura:
[L]et me have this power of recollection: that I am nothing but a tiny servant of the Almighty Absolute
Godhead, realized through the unflinching mercy of my divine master.
Your aspiring servant,
Devāmrita Swami

Dear Śrīla Prabhupāda,

Please accept my obeisances in the dust of your lotus feet.

 

The universal truth for embodied souls in this world is that, abandoning our material forms, we will all leave the present lifetime behind. What will be my lamentation at the final moments? Hospice caregivers say that when the dying finally accept their imminent departure, usually one or more of five prime lamentations engulf them:

 

* Why did work consume so much of my life?

* Why did I, through the various phases of life, let key friendships slip away?

* Why didn’t I allow myself to be more happy?

* Why didn’t I express my real feelings more?

* Why didn’t I live more true to myself rather than to others’ expectations?

 

Owing only to your divine intervention, none of this typical departure-bed grief will assail us. Rescuing your followers from Kali’s kingdom of nescience, you have bestowed upon us the divine opportunity to end our brief stay in the body with no material regrets.

 

Yet Vaiṣṇavas can feel purely spiritual lamentations as they exit. Mādhavendra Purī’s disappearance from the ordinary vision of this world is the paragon of nonmaterial remorse and self-reproach. His apparent expression of failure demonstrated the highest attainment of eternal, spiritual existence. Mathurā nā pāinu:

 

“I could not attain the shelter of Mathurā!”

 

While worshiping that zenith of prema from a respectful distance, I seek to present to you my own major spiritual regret—accompanying me now, even before death knocks.

 

Why did I wait so long to come to your service?

 

Yes, I began at age twenty-two. But crucial years passed before I developed enough bhakti life-experience to wholesomely benefit others.

 

Why not the greater fortune of arriving at your feet earlier—say, at eighteen, intact and ready for full devotional action? Age twelve would have been even better—no roller-coaster bewilderment typical of both teenage and young adult life outside of bhakti’s regimen.

 

The ultimate benediction, in this world, though, would have been to take birth as your pure servant and from as early an age as possible exhibit full competence for executing your purposes, thus remaining fixed eternally as your menial assistant.

 

Whether in life or death, I beg for the strength to hold high above my head the closing words of your Vyāsa-pūjā offering to Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī Ṭhākura:

 

[L]et me have this power of recollection: that I am nothing but a tiny servant of the Almighty Absolute Godhead, realized through the unflinching mercy of my divine master.

Your aspiring servant,

Devāmrita Swami