We completed our kirtan presentation at Queen’s Park on the grass under a tree. I had to think twice as to whether trees are safe considering the mishap with the Willow the other day. Today's tree, chosen by our Bhakti Academy, was a handsome and tall oak.
Anyways, we were blessed with guitar and traditional mridanga drum, and a host of singers. Though at times our group sometimes sounds like a funeral tone, for the most part, we were upbeat. An elderly man who made great friends with a squirrel came to compliment us for bringing music to the park.
Another man, a Catholic priest from Rwanda, likes it when faith groups get together. He is a regular visitor to Chatsworth in South Africa. I had to question myself as to why I've not met him there before. I go there every year to the huge Chariot Fest.
“Let’s connect, brother,” I said, “as it’s what brahmins should do – brainstorm, or ‘brahmin-storm’.” I guess I said ‘brother’, but it should have been ‘Father’, the honourific address for a priest.
On my way back to the ashram, I chose the shady route of alleyways and tree lined lanes. Both at the locations of the University of Toronto and Yorkville you find stalls and stages for the Jazz Festival. In Yorkville, a band was belting out Gershwin’s “Summertime.” I do love the piece, but It projects sadness. I would vouch for a Vedic mantra over the sound of Blues and jazz.
Source: https://www.thewalkingmonk.net/post/mantra-and-jazz
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