In 2017, during the Padayatra march in the Czech Republic, I was hit by a car with two other devotees. The driver of the car had an epileptic seizure and drove at full speed into our ten-member harinama group. She only stopped when she hit a gas station, in the place where cars are pumped with fuel. I stayed between the pillar and that car, the other two were lying on the road. They said they flew like rag dolls, but even in the initial shock they didn’t know about me, because I remained wedged between the car and the pillar at the gas station. I don’t remember anything about it. Nothing.
In order to even get me out, they had to tow the car away first. But mainly in the first moments, everyone focused on those who were lying on the road, because I clearly looked like I didn’t survive. They towed the car and lo and behold, I survived. The woman could have pulled off her phone a few seconds earlier and we would have seen her during Harinam chanting in front of us, as we were walking through the gas station, or they could have pulled the car off a few seconds later and we could have seen it behind us as it hit the gas station. But no, it happened at that very moment so she could ram right in to us. The question of why Krishna did this to me resonated in my mind for a long time afterwards, but that is another story.
I survived, but they put me in an artificial sleep, my destroyed body and especially my lungs were out of service. I was in artificial sleep for 12 days, I was close to death, so close that through many different hallucinations and dreams I heard it in one completely different experience. I was so close to it. I heard a completely detached, but at the same time cautious and very close voice: “So what do you want? Do you want to live and suffer or die and be done with it all? Choose!” And before my eyes I saw a scene where I could choose between life and death. On one side, by my left hand, a rubber body-bag and a voice telling me to get in there and die. And on the right hand a group of mutilated bodies, but alive, hoping to live. I wanted to go into the rubber body-bag and be done with it, but at the same time something was pulling me back. It took forever and a few moments at the same time and I finally turned to life.
To this day I think it was because of the devotees who prayed for me. That they pulled me back into life. Due to the fact that it happened on the Padayatra and that we were watched by the whole Czech community of devotees and then the whole world, the two of us who were seriously injured received tremendous support, devotees did kirtans for us, chanted mantras for protection, and in many Temples they did fire sacrifices to protect our lives. Devotees came together as one big family to protect its members. More than one person told me afterwards that it was a special time when the entire community of devotees closed down and prayed for us to survive. They actually felt a tremendous opportunity to get to know the Vaishnavas from the good, actually the best side. At times a disunited community suddenly held together. The family off devotees pulled me and another devotee back to life from the clutches of death with their prayers. Someone supposedly sang 16 extra rounds for me, so I wouldn’t miss on them when I couldn’t chant myself. Then they sent me money. After I recovered, I had to beg them not to send me anything anymore, that it was enough. We got support from all over the world.
It’s been a few years now and the memories are fading. On the other hand, I think about my recent travels to Ukraine, visiting the local devotees during the war. Together with the devotees from Food for All London, I have already made several trips to meet the devotees who, despite the crazy situation there, have not left and are distributing prasadam, going to harinamas and serving Krishna as much as they can. They are incredibly brave. It’s like a pilgrimage for me, a little back in time, a little higher in spiritual life. I leave security, comfort and the status quo at home, and also the concept that devotional service is mainly listening and chanting and then worshiping the Deities. Without anyone to compare ourselves to, we run to the temple once a week, read regularly, go to a weekend kirtan twice a year and once a year to some retreat, ideally discussing about our relationships or chanting the Holy Name. But is this sufficient?
For me, this pilgrimage to Ukraine is more than going for Kartik to Vrindavan. I can sit with someone who is risking his life every day to serve Krishna. I can be at odds with someone who recognizes an explosion from the sound of a cannon shot. Yet, he sings as if nothing is happening, even as explosions rumble around. I distribute prasadam with someone who has a terrible cold in his shrapnel-holed house, but still cooks and gives out hundreds of portions a day. I can associate with devotees who go to blown-up villages with the Holy Name, books and prasadam, because they want to help people and don’t care about their own comfort at all. The cohesion, cooperation and mutual respect of the local devotees is breath-taking. In one city, two devotees do not need much, but still one cooks borscht at home on a makeshift stove and the other bakes buns. These are the Ukrainian devotees. You must see it to believe it, experience it first-hand! We always go there with a full van of supplies. The local devotees are totally dedicated to distributing prasadam near the war zone. We bring them money, ingredients, spices, kitchen equipment, but also warm clothes, etc. They are so close to death that we, the indulgent, can’t even dream of such a thing in the western world. It`s simply unimaginable. At any moment a rocket or something like that can fall on them and it’s over. Many devotees had to go to fight and many have already fallen. They are as close to death, as I once was. I pray for them, and try to do something for their good. After all, they are our people, our family.
I wish they get the support that I got. Every one of those hundreds of devotees are risking their lives for service, they are so close to death. Please help them in any way, just like a family member helps another family member. The situation in Ukraine is an epic affair, rockets hit the temple, like in Kherson, or near the temple, like in Dnipro. Devotees had their houses blown up. In Nikopo we saw a Tulasi flower pot with a hole from a shrapnel. Many devotees have lost loved ones and yet they continue, especially with the distribution of prasadam, on both sides of the battle line. Where the Prabhus died giving prasadam, their wives continue to distribute. Do they not deserve more attention from our ISKCON family? Shouldn’t we re-evaluate our priorities, when someone close to us is so close to death?
Source: http://www.dandavats.com/?p=112356
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