By Indradyumna Swami
August 12, 2024
Summertime in Europe has been a favorite of mine since 1972, when Srila Prabhupada requested that a close godbrother and I go overseas to help the fledging Paris temple. Taking advantage of the warm weather, I often took to the roads for traveling samkirtan, distributing Srila Prabhupada’s books in the small towns and villages scattered across the countryside of France, Belgium, Spain, Italy and Switzerland. These locations were often inaccessible during Europe’s winters due to the frigid temperatures, but in the summertime, they were alive with beauty. Walking from village to village along scenic country roads, I often found myself distributing books alone, taking the opportunity to honor lunch prasadam in a peaceful grove of trees or a lush green meadow.
One of the most beautiful places I discovered was the Baltic Sea Coast in Poland. The coastline stretches for hundreds of miles, adorned with pristine sandy beaches that shimmer under the soft sunlight. Tall dunes, shaped by the wind over centuries, rise gracefully, their slopes blanketed in golden grasses. Behind the dunes, there are dense pine forests rich with life, offering a tranquil refuge for wildlife and a serene retreat for those seeking solace in nature’s embrace.
Summer in Poland is unique, featuring early sunrises and long, lingering sunsets. As the day fades, the sun sets in a blaze of colors, painting the sky with hues of orange, pink, and purple, often until 11 p.m. This breathtaking backdrop provides the perfect setting for our Festival of India, which runs from 5:30 p.m. to 10 p.m. daily, except on Mondays, throughout July and August.
As beautiful and captivating as it is, the Polish Baltic Sea coast has not yet become as commercialized a tourist destination as, for example, the coastal rivieras in France or Italy. While Polish people flock to the region to bask in the sun and stroll through the surrounding forests, there is little in the way of entertainment—no music concerts, sporting events, circuses, etc. By Lord Caitanya’s arrangement, our grand cultural extravaganza stands as the sole event, and we fully seize this opportunity!
Every day, from our base—an old school constructed in the 1960s during Poland’s communist era—we send out a harinam party of 50-60 devotees to chant on the beaches and boardwalks near the location of our evening program. Meanwhile, a crew of 25 men sets up our event at a prearranged festival site in a prominent part of the town hosting us that day. They assemble the massive stage, the seating for the audience, as well as the numerous, colorful tents showcasing various aspects of India’s spiritual culture. Thirty other devotees remain at the school, using its kitchen to prepare the prasadam that will be sold in our onsite restaurant during that evening’s festival. Another 50 devotees are meticulously engaged in fine-tuning every detail, ensuring that the festival runs seamlessly. It is truly a team effort in every sense of the word!
Then, at 5:30 p.m., the crowds start to pour onto our festival grounds. It never ceases to amaze me how, every day without fail, hundreds, if not thousands, of people arrive. What astonishes me most, however, is how many of them come eagerly searching for spiritual life. Krsna says in the Bhagavad Gita:
manuṣyāṇāṁ sahasreṣu
kaścid yatati siddhaye
yatatām api siddhānāṁ
kaścin māṁ vetti tattvataḥ
“Out of many thousands among men, one may endeavor for perfection, and of those who have achieved perfection, hardly one knows Me in truth.” [ Bhagavad Gita 7.3 ]
In my experience, that figure is pleasingly disproportionate to the number of people who are eager to hear about Krsna at our events. There are numerous examples of this every day—far too many to recount them all! But let me try to highlight a few.
As I walked toward our festival grounds the other day for our second festival in Kolobrzeg, a large, bearded man approached me, accompanied by his wife. He was tall, muscular and imposing, and so I hesitated for a moment to engage with him—until he extended his hand and clearly addressed me by name.
“Indradyumna Swami,” he began. “Do you remember me?”
I thought for a moment, but I could not remember ever having met him before.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Was it recently?”
“No,” he replied. “Twenty-one years ago, at one of your festivals along the coast here.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said with an apologetic tone. “I don’t remember.”
“That’s alright,” he continued, “I will never forget our meeting. It made a lasting impression on me.”
“Oh, really? How so?” I asked.
“Well, we spoke for over an hour about the Bhagavad Gita and spiritual life. In that short duration of time, you convinced me to give up meat-eating. I’ve been vegetarian since that very day—21 years ago.”
“Wow!” I said. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“You also encouraged me to chant the Hare Krsna mantra.”
When he said the words, “Hare Krsna mantra,” I immediately noticed that he pronounced them perfectly, just as he had done with my name earlier. Sensing an opportunity, I asked, “Did you ever take my advice and chant the mantra?”
“Oh, yes!” he responded. “You don’t remember how you gave me japa beads to chant on?”
Somewhat surprised, I asked, “I gave you japa beads to chant on?”
“Yes!” he replied with a smile. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a well-worn bead bag and said, “And here they are!”
Then, from the bag, he revealed a pair of smooth japa beads, their shine clearly indicating the time he had spent chanting on them.
“I took your advice to heart and have chanted 16 rounds every day, without fail, since that memorable meeting.”
“Every day?” I asked, incredulously.
“Yes, of course,” he confirmed. “But on some days when I have the time, I chant 64 rounds, like you mentioned some saints do. But I am very busy, so it’s not often possible to chant that many rounds.”
At this point, quite curious about him, I asked, “May I inquire what your profession is?”
His wife chimed in then, saying, “He’s a famous movie producer. He mainly produces documentaries. Everyone in the film industry here in Poland knows him.”
“But I’m about to retire,” he said humbly. “It’s not been easy. Life’s always a struggle. But the power of the Hare Krsna mantra has gotten me through it all.”
“Have you ever visited any of our temples, or read any of our books?” I inquired.
“Honestly,” he said, “I haven’t. With all due respect, the Hare Krsna mantra is everything I’ve ever needed. And I’ll keep chanting till the day I die.”
With that, he thanked me profusely, embraced me, offered a bow, and then walked away.
As he was leaving, Guru Kripa dasa asked me if he should run after him to collect his contact details.
“In this particular case, I don’t think so,” I said. “He would have offered that to me if he had wanted to. Besides, he’s fully embraced the essence of Krsna consciousness: the chanting of the holy names. In time, Krsna will arrange whatever he needs to reach the goal.”
As Guru Kripa and I continued walking to our festival, I said, “We are so fortunate to once again witness first-hand the power of the holy names. We are indebted to Srila Prabhupada and Lord Caitanya for this service of introducing people to the glories of those holy names. I feel I could do this forever! And the amazing thing is that Sarvabhauma Bhattacarya says we can!”
“Where does he say that?” Guru Kripa asked.
“In his Susloka-Satakam, text 99,” I replied.
“I have been immersed for many lives in this ocean of birth and death. O Lord Gauracandra! O golden moon-like master! If You bestow upon me continuous service to Your brilliant lotus feet, I shall chant and describe to others the glories of Sri Hari forever.”
As if the meeting with the famous movie producer was not enough, Lord Caitanya had another encounter in store for me, further convincing me of His causeless mercy.
As soon as we entered our festival grounds, Guru Kripa and I headed straight to the sound tent to ensure that everything was running on schedule. The benches in front of the stage were already packed with more than 500 people, leaving only standing room. The introductory kirtan on stage was just concluding when, suddenly, a gentleman tapped me on the shoulder.
“Excuse me,” he said. “Are you the organizer of this event?”
Turning around, I responded, “Yes, sir, I am.”
“Can I speak to you?” he asked.
“Sure,” I replied, stepping out of the tent to speak with him privately.
“Thanks,” he began. “I want to know if this event has any connection to the author Swami Prabhupada?”
His choice of words took me a little by surprise, and I replied, “Swami Prabhupada?”
“Yes,” he continued. “He’s the author of a collection of books called the Srimad Bhagavatam. I was just passing by and I stopped, because I heard the singer on the stage singing, ‘Hey Prabhupada.’”
“Oh, you mean ‘Jaya Prabhupada?’”
“Yes, something like that,” he said.
“Well, yes,” I said. “Srila Prabhupada, as we call him, is the founder of our movement, the Hare Krsna movement, and he has translated and commented on the Srimad Bhagavatam.”
“Swami Prabhupada has a movement?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “It’s all over the world.”
In a surprised tone, he commented, “I wasn’t aware of any movement.”
“Yes,” I said. “And this festival is part of that movement.”
With curiosity, I added, “You said you’ve read Srimad Bhagavatam?”
“Yes,” he replied. “I’ve read a number of what are called cantos. I bought twelve of them online a few years ago when I was searching on the internet for spiritual knowledge. I’ve been reading them every day since then. I am particularly interested in the pastimes of Dhruva Maharaja. But I am glad that I now know that there is a movement of Swami Prabhupada, because he says in his books that we need to find a spiritual master to guide us.”
“I have one important question,” he continued. “Something akin to what the sages of Naimisaranya asked Suta Goswami. May I ask you?”
“Wow, this gentleman really has read the Bhagavatam!” I thought to myself.
“Sure, go ahead,” I said.
“Well, I heard the singers on the stage singing a mantra about Krsna.”
“That’s correct,” I said. “It’s called the Maha Mantra.”
“My question is whether that Hare Krsna mantra is more powerful than, ‘om namo bhagavate vasudevaya,’ the mantra Dhruva Maharaja received from Narada Muni. I ask because I have been chanting that mantra for several years.”
I took the time to explain to him that the Hare Krsna mantra is the recommended mantra for this age. He listened carefully and concluded, “If that is what you say Swami Prabhupada says, then I will switch mantras. But after chanting ‘om namo bhagavate vasudevaya’ for so many years, is there any hope I can develop attraction for the Maha Mantra?”
I thought for a moment and replied, “Yes, there is. Can you stay with us until the end of our event? We’re going to sing the Maha Mantra as the final part of the program.”
“Well, I’m supposed to catch a train in 45 minutes, but I’ll change my plan. I want to see if the Maha Mantra works for me.”
That evening, as I adjusted my harmonium on stage for the final kirtan, I glanced out at the large crowd gathered in front of the stage. Alongside the devotees, many guests who had chanted with us in previous years were eagerly waiting to chant again. Among them was the gentleman who stayed to test the power of the Maha Mantra. I prayed to Lord Caitanya to allow me to chant purely, so that the gentleman might experience the mercy of the holy names.
Surrounded by the many devotee musicians on stage, I closed my eyes and began the kirtan. We started off slowly, all of us meditating on the sweetness of Krsna’s holy names. After about 30 minutes, I picked up the tempo. When I opened my eyes, I saw the entire crowd chanting and dancing in ecstasy in front of the stage. As I scanned the crowd, searching for the gentleman I had been praying for, I suddenly spotted him right up front. He was chanting and dancing with abandon, his arms raised high in the air.
As the kirtan quickened, he became even more enthusiastic and appeared like a firebrand in front of the stage as he danced while loudly chanting the Maha Mantra. Overwhelmed by emotion, I momentarily skipped part of the Hare Krsna mantra while trying to regain my composure. When I finally concluded the kirtan, I saw the gentleman standing there completely stunned, himself overcome by emotion.
Once again, the holy names of Krsna had conquered the heart of a searching soul. And once again, I had come a step closer to having full faith in Krsna’s holy names, brought to us by the all-merciful yuga avatar, Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu.
kṛṣṇotkīrtana-gāna-nartana-kalā-pāthojani-bhrājitā
sad-bhaktāvali-haṁsa-cakra-madhupa-śreṇī-vihārāspadam
karṇānandi-kala-dhvanir vahatu me jihvā-maru-prāṅgaṇe
śrī-caitanya dayā-nidhe tava lasal-līlā-sudhā-svardhunī
“O my merciful Lord Caitanya, may the nectarean Ganges waters of Your transcendental activities flow on the surface of my desertlike tongue. Beautifying these waters are the lotus flowers of singing, dancing and loud chanting of Krsna’s holy name, which are the pleasure abodes of unalloyed devotees. These devotees are compared to swans, ducks and bees. The river’s flowing produces a melodious sound that gladdens their ears.”
[ Sri CaitanyaCaritamrita, Adi-lila 2.2 ]