From Plane to DNA by Bhaktimarga Swami

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 I sat in seat 16 F, on an Air Canada flight—en route to Washington’s Dulles Airport—which was slightly delayed, and outside my window was the right wing of the plane.  It was ever so inviting to walk that wing had the window been open.  The aircraft stood there so long, and I felt rather crammed in the seat with no motion happening.  A deterrent to walking the wing was the fact that it was just de-iced.  Imagine the slippery nature of that dynamic; It might be the only meaningful stepping for today.  It was at this point that chanting became important.  I would be in a meeting for hours.  

Looking at my bead bag stuffed in the pouch in front of me, the beads within were beckoning to be used.  Out they came with my right hand fingering through each bead as my mouth softly uttered the names: Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare/ Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare (softly because I have to respect the passenger next to me.) How I admire that wine-coloured bead-bag before me.  It was a gift from South Africa.

The plane landed and an amiable person, by the name of Janardana, arrived for my pick up, his accent—Dutch—so familiar to me as it was the community I grew up in when a child.  Come to think of it I left some saliva in a tube just yesterday destined for ancestry.ca, to determine by my DNA what is the full ancestral background that my body is made up of.  Results are forthcoming.   

My parents are from the Netherlands, but is there more to the origins of my body of which I am not aware?
 
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