My morning arati is spent in the Samadhi where you see a beautiful brass image of Prabhupada, our guru. The curtains of this deity are drawn at 4.10am and a host of worshippers, all bhakti yogis, are there for viewing and chanting. If I could be a tough critical, the Kirtan ends up being something you might call ecstatic chaos. The acoustics to this domed building are such that it cannot accommodate gongs, shakers, symbols and drums. Even the instrument we call the voice finds it a hard fit unl
