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Showing posts from August, 2008

Gaining Perspective

Sports Day '89

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Within just a few days of the end of the Peace Run, August Celebrations (1989) was underway. Back in the day, Guru held a Sports Day every August. It was an Olympic-style track and field meet for the disciples. Guru no doubt got the idea for Sports Day from his years growing up in the Sri Aurobindo Ashram, where a similar event was held and Guru was its champion some years running (see photos here ). At our Sports Day , Guru was like a field martial marching around directing the various events. For example, at a previous year's event, one of the events I ran was the 400 meters. There were, perhaps, 40 or 50 other guys who presented themselves to the starting area for the race and Guru quickly began putting people in heats. Amongst the men in the Center, the 400 really was the most exciting race. The two fastest runners -- year in, year out -- were Shakshat and Bhaswar, who also challenged each other for the overall Sports Day championship. On the women's side, the competition

Happy Birthday Mom!

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When I was sick as a little kid To keep me happy there's no limit to the things you did And all my childhood memories Are full of all the sweet things you did for me And even though I act craaazy I gotta thank the Lord that you made me There are no words that can express how I feel You never kept a secret, always stayed real And I appreciate, how you raised me And all the extra love that you gave me I wish I could take the pain away If you can make it through the night there's a brighter day Everything will be alright if ya hold on It's a struggle everyday, gotta roll on And there's no way I can pay you back But my plan is to show you that I understand You are appreciated Dear Mama , by Tupac Shakur. If I have any good qualities today, then they are attributable to my spiritual life. My mom alone made that life possible for me. Without her, I am nothing. Mom supported my every interest. As a pre-teen, I was obsessed with track and field. My sole desire was to be an Oly

The Run Concludes

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The " den-mother " who hadn't appreciated my shirtless running left the Peace Run after a month. She was quickly replaced my my actual mother. I hadn't been in close contact with mom for some time. Not because of any past conflict or anything -- I just hadn't been all that close to any family members since moving to New York a few years earlier. But with Jeevan and Nirbachita now in the Center that began to change. While I think both of them were still members of the San Francisco Center, they were making weekly trips south to Santa Cruz in an effort to re-establish a Center there. Coincidentally, that's also where my mom was living. For that reason, I think, mom slowly began getting more and more involved in Center-related activities. When it became clear to us on the run that we needed someone to join the team who had some cooking abilities, my mom's name surfaced -- I'm not sure how. I just remember Shambhu calling from New York to ask me if I'

Bansidhar

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There was only one reason I survived the three-plus months of Peace Run '89: Bansidhar. For most of our time on the road that summer, I was teamed up with Bansidhar -- typically as a kind of advance crew. We'd wake up early and be the first runners on the road in the morning, taking up where the night crew had left off the previous evening. We'd put in our combined 20 to 24 miles, hand off the torch to the girls crew, and then the two of us would drive the hundred or so miles ahead to that evening's rest stop. Once there, we'd do any necessary chores -- like shopping for that night's dinner -- and check into the hotel or campsite. With Bansidhar there was no drama -- ever. That was just one of his many fine qualities. We first met in the early 1980s, before I had moved to New York. He had been a member of the Puerto Rico Center and had just moved to San Francisco, where I met him for the first time at a Center meeting. Bansidhar and I ran our first relay togeth

Runnin' on Empty

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During Peace Run '89, I saw and felt so much. I wish I had kept a journal. Over the next three and a half months, I'd touch foot in each of the 48 contiguous United States, average about 10 miles a day of running, enjoy wondrous highs, and suffer frustrating lows. My time on the Peace Run was an invaluable experience on every level which would ease my eventual transition from the Center to civilian life. The course we embarked on took us south and then west on a serpentine course designed both to touch major population centers and to cross into each nearby state along the way. The runners, generally, were divided first by the sexes -- there was a boys' team and a girls' team -- and then again by either morning or afternoon crews. Arpan was the overall leader on the ground and for at least the first month or so a middle-aged woman disciple played den-mother for the girls' team. Throughout the summer, there were typically about a dozen runners -- guys and girls comb

Shambhu's Offer

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On the morning of my first day of work at Victory Factory, I met the guys -- Abedan , Sudhir , Sandhani , and the other workers -- at the Smile. From there they regularly car pooled from the block in Jamaica to Hollis (home of Run DMC ), where Victory Factory was located. I felt very self-conscious stepping into the Smile. Sahishnu -- already backed up with breakfast orders at the grill -- acknowledged me with a look. I don't remember ordering anything; I just sat there feeling strange and waiting for the ride to my new job. Aside from the new job, I also got a new place to live. A room became available at Trishatur's place and I moved my few belongings the half block or so to his place. Trishatur was another of that handful of guys who really stepped up for me when I had needed it most. A long time employee of the United Nations, Trishatur -- like me -- had come to the Center at the age of 16. An autodidact, he has an affinity for languages and a love of foreign cultures.

Sudhir

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Frankly, I felt like damaged goods. I had fallen from grace and it was out in the open for everyone in my disciple-centered world to see. Whatever status I had been afforded in the eyes of my brother and sister disciples as a consequence of having come to the Center young, having been one of Guru's ball boys at the tennis court, having helped with Guru's musical instruments, having associated with the "inner circle" of Guru's closest disciples, or my personal mythology -- all of that was shot. Surprisingly, however, the loss of my spiritual bona fides -- my disciple street cred as it were -- was liberating. True, I was back in New York -- back in the Center -- out of a sense of obligation to Guru rather than a personal desire to be there. But I was much more free than I had been before. For one thing, I no longer worked at the Smile , where for the previous three years I had had just two days off each month. Now, I was happily unemployed. Nor did I any longer fe