From India
BTG-India's artist, Janardan Salkar, is a fired-up devotee.
He teaches art in a convent school, chants sixteen rounds, regularly attends counselee meetings, takes a part-time course in the arts, cooks, and does his household chores alone (he is unmarried and lives in Mumbai, while his parents are in interior Maharashtra), and also distributes books.
He came to Krishna consciousness after dabbling in lots of pseudo-spiritual organizations and has a missionary spirit to share with everyone Lord Krishna's pure teachings as given by Srila Prabhupada. Whenever he goes out he has Srila Prabhupada's books in his bag. And whenever he learns of a religious gathering with a substantial crowd he goes there and sets up his book table.
Recently, though, things haven't been going his way. His arts teacher rejected most of his work.
"Your drawings are all same," he said. "They are only paintings of Krishna. Draw something different."
The teacher failed to see that each painting was based on different themes from Bhagavad-gita and the Bhagavatam and were varied in content and message.
Janardan Prabhu had to redo a lot of assignments, which took tremendous hard work in a short time.
This was followed by a severe bout of food poisoning. He was doubling up with severe abdominal cramps, with no one to look after him. Finally, he got some treatment and recovered.
He recalls: One Sunday I woke up fresh and energetic, after a long gap without sufficient rest. School was starting the next day. I looked all around my tiny house. Everything was a mess. But what caught my eye was a mountain of unwashed clothes. I looked in the closet. It was empty. I had no shirt for tomorrow. I thought, "O.K. Let me chant sixteen rounds and then I will do my laundry. Clean my heart first and then clean my home."
RING RING
It was a friend on the phone. "There is a festival in a local Shiva Temple. Lots of people are expected. Good opportunity for book distribution. Are you coming?"
"Of course, yes," I replied and hung up.
"But what about the dirty clothes?" my mind protested. "You have no clean shirt for school tomorrow!"
"No problem! What is a deodorant meant for?" " I overruled my rebellious mind.
I grabbed my bookbag and tiny portable table and caught an auto-rickshaw straight to the Shiva temple. The whole afternoon and evening I distributed a modest number of mostly small books. I desperately wanted to distribute at least one Bhagavad-gita but could not do so.
Late in the evening I was returning to my house with my now-lighter bookbag slung over my shoulder, when somebody called me.
"Arre babu ji (Oh sir!)."
I turned. It was my dhobi (washerman). He was waving at me to come. I rubbed my eyes. He generally just gives me a cursory namaste, but today he was frantically calling me.
"Let me check," I thought and went ahead.
"Sir, let me remind you," he said. "I still have your four shirts that you gave a month back. You never collected them. Everyday I would see you coming and hope that you would take them but you never came. I thought maybe you have forgotten, so I called you today."
"Thank you so much!" I blurted out. "I desperately need a clean shirt. By the way, I have a Bhagavad-gita with me. Please take a look."
The dhobi grabbed the book.
"I was looking for a Bhagavad-gita so eagerly. Thank God you have it. How much for it?"
He bought a Hindi copy.
I came home and reflected on the events of the day. I had sacrificed my time to serve Lord Krishna and here He was providing me something that I desperately needed — a clean shirt. Not only this but I also got to distribute a Bhagavad-gita. Surely when you serve Lord Krishna, you are never a loser. Lord Krishna really cares for His devotee.
To those who always worship Me with exclusive devotion, meditating on My transcendental form — to them I carry what they lack, and I preserve what they have. (Bg. 9.22)
Your Servant,
Murari Gupta dasa
