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I took my hand at the culinary craft today, cooking the noon offering. I have this great privilege being on the Monday schedule now. I feel blessed.

It’s been a long time since doing this seva (service). I love it.

Cooking brown rice, dahl soup, two veggie preps, chappatis, popadams, halava and, am I missing something? It was so exhilarating. You really have to be sharp when every item is over the flame simultaneously. I like the creativity of it all. It is quite the balancing act but, with Kris

We have been honoring the month of Damodara, Krishna who acts as a child in all frivolity. The following is a rhyming translation by Kalakanta for the song, “Damodarastaka”.
 

After you steal butter, Your earrings dance and shine.

As you flee Your mother in Gokula pastimes.

Though you are all blissful, all knowing, ever-new

Greatest of controllers, Your mother controls You.
 

She shows You the stick and she binds You by the waist.

You shutter and sob and Your necklace of pearls shakes.

As You ru

Real snow covered rooftops, car tops, tree branches, roads and everything else. It was white, wet and wonderful. However, it left a slush dynamic; somewhat unfavourable for driving and walking. It was pretty though, as it descended, prettier than Hollywood snow.

I was not discouraged from taking that stroll to The Pits. After all it was late—10 p.m.—who would be out at this hour? Well, there were a few pedestrians. One homeless person recognized me. I was in my snow clothes, so how could he? It

It was somewhere near Oakland in California

Where people drive everything from a Harley to a Porsche

Anuttama and I were ambling on our humble feet

As traffic whizzed by like a roaring missile fleet
 

We got to talking about an absolute need

We had this idea that manifest like a seed

A retreat for conscious men who will open up

Get drunk on nectar brimming to the top of the cup
 

The bonding, we thought, would be most valuable

A feeling that would rub most palpable

There was a very good reason t

The first day of the MANtra Retreat was a smashing success. Anuttama is just the best host. Tomorrow will be most exciting—a good speaker from the UK, Bhuta Bhavana, who raises the topic of empowerment. Check it out, 10 AM. Register if you haven’t, gentlemen.

At noon today one of my good friends from Vaughn came over and accepted two garlands for his Ganesh deity. He was proudly letting me know that he lost 35 lbs due to diet change and walking 10 kilometres per day.

I later came upon a tall fel

The following poem is in honour of my dear friend, Baladev, AKA Barry Brown. We traveled as monks in a small party through the United States, experiencing what most people haven’t gone through.

Baladeva / Barry Brown
 

I know you never knelt at a church’s pew

You were Jewish, then Vaishnava, now a “Hin-jew”

As monks in travel we looked at the bible

Viewed the Old Testament exploring the tribal

On that same motel floor you wrestled with Giri

You lost—he won, leaving you feeling weary

On behalf o

After a day of chanting, discussion, calls, a class, a nap, a reading and some eating (broccoli stalks), I went out to meet the snow. It was a powdery type, drifting and blowing.

I was not the only one out during that night hour. Others, with their leashed dogs, had also come out, away from the mantelpiece, to perhaps greet winter. It has not become the intense sensation of weather just yet. Most likely the white will disappear in three days.

I was, however, the only one with japa beads as my le

For those who do not know, today is Diwali, the festival of lights. The commemoration has much to do with Rama’s triumph. There is a video circulating out there where Prince Charles is offering his best wishes to all followers of Rama. After all, those who follow Krishna also follow Rama. Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare, Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare.

Celebrations took place in the city that I live in and also in the temple where I live, where congregants and curiou

I was walking and taking photos of a moose family, no the actual animals, which are the largest of the deer family, but effigies of the clan made entirely of white lights. I was in the middle of snapping shots from my phone when Godbrother, Krishna das, from Lindsay, called to talk about Diwali, the festival of lights.

Apparently he and I, as well as other God-siblings, will be conducting a Zoom presentation on the 18th. It is according to the Vedic calendar, the time of viewing lights and lamps

On this eve of Remembrance Day we give homage to those who sacrificed their lives in defence of innocent citizens. I saw that pedestrians passing by the park bench where I relaxed were bearing the symbolic poppy.

Saurav, 19, a student at U of T, whom I sat with, is from a Punjabi descent and I assume he knows not a lot about the gruesome world war of the 20th century. However, his ancestors may well know of the years of British occupancy and of the Partisan riots. These events are just ugly all

My cousin, Corry, her hubby, Eric, and our young Muslim friend, Victor, came together to talk spiritual. And it wasn’t a conversation devoid of opinions about the American election. Political opinions often tend to polarize people. It occupies many peoples’ lives. Spiritual conversations can do the same—occupy and polarize. At least our group succeeded in hitting common ground when talking stayed on the other-worldly thoughts.

I had shared my realizations with Gabriel of St. Mary’s. We dwelt on

Through the arched window

I see a couple crossing

The road of intensity

No pleasant walk night here
 

Through that lofty window

Men are thinning the tree

I don’t know why

I wish I did though
 

Through this broad window

I can view four homes

Sheltering good families

Our neighbours and friends

Through the part-frosted window

I admire binds in flight

Not destined for the south

They wish to stay here
 

Through that wood-framed window

I am blocked from the air

I hear leaves are rustling

And people

Back at the temple ashram, downtown Toronto, movers came over to empty out the excess paraphernalia thus freeing up the building from potential danger, such as the fire hazard it had created. A kind member of our community, Mukesh Gelda, allowed space in his warehouse, the new home of this paraphernalia; materials that are used in North America‘s largest Ratha Yatra, the Chariot Fest. We are grateful for the service he is offering and I want to thank Rudradev for organizing the move, as well as

I went for another shiatsu session with my yogi friend, Devananda, a.k.a. Marc Handelman, and it was a job well done. From there I had a great opportunity to walk back to the ashram via the Cedarvale ravine. Trekking in these ravines changes hearts.

Why?

Well, one reason I can think of is that you are removed from cars. These nice ravines, which are like tight green valleys, restrict the automobile. In that natural setting you are in a sattvic environment, which allows you to feel safe. I believ

These evenings, when not shooting footage for “Rolling the Dice” I’m enwrapped in compiling either one of two books. The Saffron Road is a publication that I’m hoping to have materialized soon. It’s an account of my walking ventures and I’m currently in the proofreading stage. Krishna in the Maple Leaf is also a work in progress, capturing the early pioneer years of the Hare Krishna’s in Canada.

In both books I’m running into a thematic parallel—gratitude. I’m very passionate about expressing th

I hadn’t met Juhi’s parents before and I was honoured to participate in her pre-engagement program. Nice folks she has, from Punjab originally.

Her fiancé is Rishab, whom I’ve known since he was a kid. His parents, Rajasuya and Surabhi, of South Indian descent, are sishyas, or students of mine. At their home two families came together, and I, for an impromptu engagement. There were no engagement rings, but two pieces of ladhoo, sweet-balls made of chickpea flour, were exchanged lovingly between

The Brickworks is a big draw, especially with today’s temperatures at 22°C, or within the region of 71°F. Being a Friday afternoon, you could feel the joy for all the browsers in their haven of ponds, multiple goldfish, trees of fall colours and even an amicable beaver working at constructing its lodge.

The plan for me and other members of our drama troupe was to have our first take with filming our drama for virtual presentation. Like in all projects, hurdles do exist. One of our key actors has

Stephen drove me to Brampton, to an expansive recreation park called Sesquicentennial. There is not a more flat expense of parkland that I’ve seen, except for Saskatchewan. The place is green, clean and all who visit are in jeans, which is a slight exaggeration when it comes to attire. Brampton, in general could easily be mistaken for a suburb of New Delhi, just cleaner. The reason I say this about the place is that the whole area is rather dominated by people mostly from North India.

Stephen an

It was a typical October day, I mean to say, perfect for walking. The wind, a cloud and the sun were above and around, not only me but everyone. I was walking west on Dupont and at one crossroad, at Davenport, also known as the Ancient Trail used by the Huron for centuries, I met one road worker. His name is Jordan, he left his tools and came down.

“Hare Krishna!” said Jordan. “We’ve met. I know Phil, who is in Hungary now at the farm community… I do chant and follow some of your classes on Zoom

I walked to “Theatrics Plus” and the friendly clerk found for me what I came for, a prop for the virtual drama that a group of us are putting together. “Rolling the Dice” is the name of the play. The highlight of the story focuses on some shady gambling from the “Mahabharat.” The props I purchased were dice, four of them at $2.50 a crack. They look good, roll nice, sound good when you shake them and are made in China. According to the epic, the iconic dice are supposed to be made of the bones of