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Padayatra America 2004, #3
From Avadhuta
Siromani Dasa
Posted Nov. 23, 2004

April 8-22

We crossed the state line into Alabama on the 17th, and kept moving steadily. The dealings with people were sweet. The people were simple and appreciative of a message about how to live a God-centered life. We saw that after speaking with us they would warm up, seeing that we are not bad people. We heard many say, "There are bad folks around."

We crossed Atmore onto County Road 57 through Raburn and stopped to rest the horses. Mr. Presley came to talk. He was friendly and invited us to stay the night on his property. Meanwhile, he went back to work, and later on his son and his son's wife came in a challenging mood: "Can I help you? This is my property."

I mentioned that his father had invited us. He didn't say much but still hung around, doubtful about us. "Honestly," I thought, "better than ignore him, engage him in devotional service."

"Hey, my friend," I called out, "could you help me haul these oats for the horses?" 

As he was helping me, more neighbors came and we all start to talk. After a few hours of friendly interfaith conversation and a lot of questions about the practice of Krsna consciousness, we continued our nightly services. To our surprise, the son and his wife returned later to take prasadam with us and offered their church's facilities, which were right next door (bathroom, shower, etc).

They brought all kinds of bhoga supplies and stayed for a little while longer. The wife was inquisitive. Next morning, the father came with a box full of supplies. After a nice exchange, we moved on at 11:00. We were moving toward I-65 to cross the Mobile River. It was a 12-mile stretch of bridge at a height of some 450 feet over the river. People could hardly believe we would even try, and certainly all the locals agreed it would be an adventure to cross it.

There is another bridge in Mobile, the state capital, which would put us through 20 miles of city, right through downtown. The other option is about 100 miles north. The straight shot is over the Interstate. There are no county roads to get us over this one.

So there we were, 20 miles from the bridge, moving through the back roads of Alabama. We stopped in the middle of nowhere for directions and found Mr. Bobby, who stopped to spend the afternoon with us. 

He firmly believed it was destiny as he heard our message, so relevant to him in his life right now. We had a book to give him, and he brought us many useful gifts.

As we set out again, we met another long-lost friend, Mr. Richard. He met us at the turn into town, waiting on the corner. With a toothless smile he stopped us. "Do you have a Bhagavada-gita I can have?" he said. "I haven't seen devotees since 1979."

We could not stop because the sun was low, but we fulfilled his desire and moved on. That night he found us again and told us some very wonderful stories.

We slept in a church lot just 100 feet from the entrance to the Interstate.

The next day Vitthalesvara prabhu dressed the Deities nicely, in a brilliant red outfit for the occasion—our festival of crossing the bridge.

O Lord Nrsimhadeva, if it is Your desire to enjoy the journey over the bridge and purify the atmosphere with Your presence and the holy name, let us go on. Otherwise, show us another way. 

The sheriff of a neighboring county was trying to help us find an alternate road. "Well if you're confident that the horses can do it, go forward," he said. "As soon as you are in, there is no way to stop or go back, so they will have to help."

"The Lord is our master and guide," I said. "We will pray that He may direct us. We are simply trying to carry on with His will."

At 11:00 we left.

"I bow down to the terrific Lord Nrsimhadeva by the remembrance of whose name all the bhutas, vetalas, raksashas and all kinds of disease and disturbance become fearful and are immediately destroyed."

O my Lord, I just want to carry on with Your will. Let me be an instrument for the satisfaction of Your servants, my authorities, those who have inspired me to take up this path, those who want this Padayatra to be on the road, participating in the distribution of the holy name to every village and town of the globe.

The traffic was heavy. According to the people, the bridge was eight or ten miles long, with three peaks. The third peak was the biggest, spanning over 400 feet above the tree line. There were two lines of heavy traffic with a ten-foot-wide lane for emergency parking and a three-foot-tall cement wall between you and the Mobile River. Our wagon is seven feet wide, which meant 1.5 feet on each side—to the wall or to the traffic.

Hare  Krsna! The Lord let us enter. Trucks, buses, cars, literally hundreds if not thousands of vehicles from both sides saw us. The wind was refreshing. Their Lordships looked beautiful. What a glorious moment! They were crossing one of the biggest bridges of the southern United States, letting so many glance upon Them.

The holy name... Loudly chant! The loud rumble of the trucks was tough to bear, but seeds of love were being planted in thousands that morning.

People would honk to us in a nice mood, encouraging us. Candrabhaga was tense, but still she was hanging on. Vitthalesvara Prabhu was chanting japa. Kana, Balaji, Ugra Nrsimha, and I make a powerful team. I realized that all my attention should be on Balaji. He would be the one to support the lines and keep the wagon straight. I could trust Kana to follow the step and remain grave (as he always is) with hundreds of trucks, cars, etc. racing just two feet away from him. And all the while, my heart was in a prayerful mood to Jwala Nrsimha.

Please, my Lord protect me against the sense of being a controller, thinking myself the doer, enjoyer. Destroy that demon of false pride and let me humble myself unto You. Only You can make us pass this bridge; otherwise everything will be finished. Let me be your servant. Let me take shelter at Your lotus feet.

Mile one. Everything was smooth. Green grass on the side gave solace. I couldn't even look around because of the extreme attention required in these moments. Two miles, three miles... Hare Krsna. Pray to the Lord to keep the proper consciousness.

Kana and Balaji were doing phenomenal. We moved two miles at the level of the swamp, over two good-sized hills, and then suddenly up ahead we saw a monstrous hill going up the third bridge— 400 feet of deep hill. "Here we go! Jaya Nrsimha, Jaya Nrsimha, Jaya Nrsimhadeva......"

Kana and Balaji were pulling hard. The sun came ou. It was glorious. Sri Sri Nitai-Gaurasundara looked like kings surveying the kingdom. The holy name was purifying all kinds of jivas that were quickly passing by. Just at that moment we saw a sign up ahead: "Construction work." The parking sideway would be closed ahead. Hare Krsna! 

At the right moment, a police car appeared on the scene just half a mile from the end of the bridge, and a policeman quickly closed one lane so we could continue without stopping. We passed the dumbstruck workers and then back to the parking lane. A hundred yards later, again on land. Their Lordships had made it.

All glories to Jwala Nrsimha, who mercifully lead us on this adventure! It is only His glorious moment. By that mercy this fallen soul was able to participate, seeing the Lord as the power behind any action.

 "Know that all opulent, beautiful, and glorious creations spring from but a spark of my splendor." [Bhagavad-gita As It Is 10.41]

At the end of the bridge we stopped, and the police officer was simply astonished. It was a sight to see: the Padayatra crossing one of the biggest bridges of the southern United States. The police officer was interested and accepted a Back to Godhead magazine. "God bless you," he said with obvious sincerity.

We moved off the Interstate highway onto country roads—narrow, curvy, and hilly. But the route into Mississippi was straighter. As always, throughout the many small towns, people came, and they left impressed, touched by the Padayatra. We slept on highway 80 after Creola.

Hare Krsna.

© dipika.org Nov. 23, 2004