After a blissful kirtan at Queen’s Park, and once all participants dispersed, I chose to go solo on foot on the very active streets on this Friday night. It is quite remarkable to see the demographical change the city is experiencing. There is an increase in Asian presence, more particularly Chinese and Indian folks, many of them students. By the time I reached Dundas Square at Yonge, it was a very low and crammed protest by youth of Iranian dissent. With place cards and mantras of slogans “Free Iran,” “End the oppression of Iranian women,” and “F**k The Regime.” The protesters were strong in their outcry.
I asked two security guards, tall Afro-Canadian men, regarding what was the protest but it appeared they hadn’t got close enough to read among the hundreds of disgruntled individuals. They were, however, curious about me, “Are you Buddhist?”
“No! A Hare Krishna monk!” I replied.
“Oh yes, Krishna. How many years have you been a monk?”
“I became a monk in 1973. It’s almost a half a century.” That remark caused the raising of eyebrows. I gave a pat on the back of one of them, something I don’t normally do but was compelled to show my appreciation for their work. They nodded and I smiled.
I proceeded north towards home, to the temple ashram, but in order to relax for five minutes I took to a park bench when a person, homeless, came to share in the seat as he spoke. “I’m trying to get back home, to Newfoundland. They had no room at the shelter. Someone stole my backpack with $300.” I expressed that I would pray for him as my only way to help. He liked that and said his name was Brandy.
Source: http://thewalkingmonk.blogspot.com/2022/10/friday-september-23-2022.html
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