Rememberance

A couple of nights ago, I watched Rob Reiner's great film The Princess Bride on TV with my 15 year old son.

We'd, of course, seen it before. But it's one of those rare films that's just as fun to watch a second (and third) time. It also brings back fond memories for me. The first time that I saw The Princess Bride was at Guru's house, perhaps 20 years ago.

When I think of my fondest memories of Guru, I don't think of my own best meditations or times when Guru showed me special attention. Instead, I remember the more intimate and human interactions that I had with my master.

I remember, for example, going for a run one Saturday morning in New York. No sooner had I begun when Databir pulled up alongside me in his car. Guru was sitting in the front seat, and he motioned for me to get in.

Soon, we were heading over the 59th Street Bridge into Manhattan. I don't remember who we were waiting for (or for what reason), but Databir parked near the United Nations and we all waited in the car for 20 or 30 minutes.

At one point, Guru said that he was thirsty. I noticed a hot dog vendor on a nearby corner, and with the emergency cash stashed in my running shorts, I bought two sodas: one regular, one diet. Once back in Databir's car, I asked Guru which he'd prefer (diet), opened the can, and inserted a straw, leaving just a bit of the straw wrapper on the end of the straw that Guru would put his mouth onto (to keep it sanitary, as I had seen the Annam Brahma girls do so often).

The transaction was matter-of-fact, but beautiful in its simplicity. And that's what I loved about it. No false piety or reverential awe. Just a simple act of service -- the kind of unconditional favor one would do for any friend.

Once our mission in Manhattan was over, Databir drove us all back to Queens. I spent the rest of that Saturday hanging out at Guru's house, leaving in the early evening with just enough time to rush home, shower, and head to Progress-Promise for that night's function.

Those are the things about Guru that I remember most fondly. Not his trances, not his many and varied achievements, nor even the things he said (to me or others). In this, I'm reminded of what Swami Vivekananda said to Sri Ramakrishna once.

Thakur asked Naren why he kept coming to Dakshineswar if he didn't agree with the things that Thakur said.

"I come here to see you," Naren replied, "not to listen to you."

That's why the memory of sitting with Guru in his living room watching TV is so sweet for me. It wasn't about what was on, whether The Princess Bride, endless rounds of the U.S. Open Tennis Championships, or re-runs of The Honeymooners. It was about seeing Guru in an informal setting.

As my son and I watched Inigo Montoya defeat the six-fingered man the other night, I realized that I can watch The Princess Bride anytime, but I'll never again have those carefree days of my youth at the feet of my master.

I'll always remember and cherish them.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

David Moretti

Image
On October 18, 1981, I got the word that Sri Chinmoy had accepted me as one of his disciples. I was 16, a junior in high school. Young as I was, the story behind my applying to join what some in my family believed -- perhaps correctly -- to be a Hindu religious cult stretched back a few years and is a story of happenstance, serendipity and interesting personalities. Over the following nine years of my discipleship, I would meet some of the most unique individuals I've ever met and I'll do my best to draw attention to them as my story unfolds. First, though, I want to acknowledge my boyhood friend, David Moretti (pictured above). Dave was my best friend through grade school. His father worked for the Almaden winery when there were still vineyards in Silicon Valley, and his mother worked for a local bank. Unlike my parents, Dave's mom and dad hadn't divorced. I spent just about every day after elementary school hanging out at the Moretti's house. When the whole
Read more

Hear Me Roar

Image
The time for former women disciples to come together, "in numbers too big to ignore" as Helen Reddy sings in her famous song, is now. With the huge exception of Jayanti Tamm -- and her book Cartwheels in a Sari -- there have been precious few examples of what the disciple life was like from a woman's perspective. That should change. There are now scores of women who spent significant time in the Center leading extremely disciplined lives, who are now living outside the shadow of the Center, standing on their own, each of whom have distinct and unique voices. I'd really like to hear from them (you all know who you are). And I don't mean just in guest posts here (though I love them). What I'm really advocating is a site for women, by women. Something like a spiritual Double X site . I take inspiration again from Jayanti, who is perhaps laying the foundation for such a site at her blog -- read the latest lion's roar here . That's Helen Reddy in the pho
Read more

Lavanya - A Guest Post

Image
I WAS NOT AS SPECIAL AS YOU AND I THOUGHT This is the story of a few pivotal experiences of my 31 years in the Sri Chinmoy Centre. Telling it makes me feel sad, mad, ashamed, and foolish for staying and serving for so many years after I knew things were not as they should be, starting with our divine leader. Still, when I finally left the Centre, I swore to myself that I would never tell what I knew about him, and until recently I thought I never would. But when I left the Centre, I thought I knew what was true about Chinmoy, when actually I knew almost nothing. Now, as the real Chinmoy is gradually being revealed by piecing together all of our experiences with him, it seems I can’t keep my own story tamped down any longer. It needs to be told.  It’s not a good story, not a happy story, and I am not a heroine – on the contrary. But life is telling me it’s time to speak up. I probably should have spoken long ago. I definitely COULD have spoken about 40 years ago. Maybe I wou
Read more