Dear Guru Maharaja,
please accept my humble dandavat pranams in the dust of your lotus feet.
Whenever this holy day of your disappearance comes back, it’s a bitter-sweet experience. Bitter, because how to replace your most wonderful person? Even though I have met sadhus after you left, and closely associated with them, the special flavor of your personal association is so unique, that it cannot be forgotten nor matched. As I am wandering the earth, trying, as an instrument, to distribute our acaryas’ mission, whenever I hear your name, I catch myself containing the emotions and tears swelling up inside, remembering how you gave me so much! You took the time to try to weed out anarthas from my heart, but how little did I gave you in return! How did I allow the years to roll by without taking more advantage of your teachings and mercy?
It’s a lso a sweet day because more than ever I can focus exclusively on you, remembering you as I am repeating your katha and trying to broadcast your glories. And it’s sweet also to see that everywhere, the devotees ask for more. For instance, I have told many times the story of your siksa-guru, Srila Bhakti caran dasa babaji Maharaja, an Oriya disciple of Srila Sarasvati Thakura visiting you in Bhubaneswara, and in some places, devotees who only heard about it ask me to repeat it and to speak about you.
O Guru Maharaja, will I ever be able to sit again at your lotus feet, watching you absorbing yourself in your japa chanting, oblivious to anything else? To watch you roaring like a lion-acarya as you deliver your matchless lectures? To have your powerful, merciful glance scan my heart and ask me silently, “So? When will you fully surrender?” To have you operate on my heart publicly and mercifully cutting my false ego as one slices a cucumber? I think about you, but, a question comes regularly: Is there a chance for this fallen servant to still figure in your heart?
Your Jayantakrouda (BV Suddhadvaiti)