JC, the Foam's Chchoto Bhai
(A Thousand Years of Brotherhood)
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11/18/05 – Friday
The Foam is surprised by the early arrival of his chchoto bhai (little brother, age 42), JC, as breakfast is being served. Jal advises that “a gentleman from Bubaneshwar” awaits him on the veranda. The Foam approaches JC from behind and calls his nickname.
“Bapi!”
“B----da!”
An upwelling of tears in the Foam shows (a) how much he has anticipated this meeting with his soul brother and (b) that the Zoloft has worn off (it’s a miracle drug, but it seems to flatten affect or emotional response). Zoloft is a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor (SSRI) used by depressives and bipolar types. It can’t be taken with Mefloquine, the malaria preventive, as the side effects of the latter are aggravated: depression, psychosis, hallucinations and seizures. The Foam is mildly disappointed that despite patient waiting, the hallucinations never materialized. After the pilgrimage to India, the Foam was able to chuck his supply of Zoloft for good (after 10 years of devout ingestion).
JC and the Foam spent an hour in the guest room, laughing and scratching. The two then collect JC’s mom and dad from the Indian guest house across the alleyway. A grand tour of the Math is conducted by JC, a frequent habitué. JC instructs the Foam on purchases at the bookstore, then they visit the Math office to get assistance from the Swami with a car and driver for tomorrow’s expedition to local historic sites where founders of the Order lived and worked.
In the evening, JC, his parents and the Foam attend arati (vespers) at the main temple. Hymns sung by novice monks are gloriously suspended just under the din of hooded crows roosting in the banyans as twilight deepens to indigo. The priest first waves a ghee (clarified butter) lamp containing 5 lights (air, earth, fire, water, space/ether), then a single lamp with a roaring flame, then a conch shell dispensing holy water, then a lotus (space), then a sacred cloth (earth) and finally a white horsehair whisk (air), all the while ringing a bell held in his left hand. The Foam can sit cross-legged no longer and waits for his chchoto bhai on the sidewalk until the music is over.
After vespers, the Foam and his comrade visit the ferry dock. JC points out the dead body of an infant, wrapped in plastic and being pecked at by crows, floating down the Ganges. When children die, Hindus believe that since they are already close to God, the usual funeral rites are not necessary. If you own a shovel, you bury your child; if not, the Holy Ganges receives it.
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JC and West Bengal Government
Leprosy Project Vehicle
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11/19/05 – Saturday
The journey for Karampukur and Joyrambati is rescheduled for Sunday; today will bring us to the holiest site, the 14 temples at Dakshineswar (1 for Kali, 1 for Radhakrishna and 12 for Shiva in a variety of individual incarnations, though all the Shiva temple contain identical linga or phallic stone images), and various local sites. These include a benefactor’s garden house at Kasi Pur (Cossipore), where Ramakrishna spent his final year suffering from throat cancer, surrounded by his 14 loving disciples; Swami Vivekananda’s ancestral home and attached museum (Vivekananda’s father was partner in a top law firm and the house was lavish by any standard); and the house where the Holy Mother stayed intermittently after Ramakrishna’s death until her own passing or mahasamadhi on July 20, 1920.
The only trepidation on the tour occurred when the party of four crammed into the tiny car around 7:30AM. Once under way, the Foam had to ask the driver to identify a large, black spindly object in the door-panel stowage pocket on the front passenger side. “Verily,” saith the Foam, “that object must be too large to be a spider.” The driver gave a characteristically Indian waggle of the head that means, variously, “yes”, “not necessarily”, “maybe”, “so what?”, or “whatever”. “This is not a problem?” inquired the Foam. A more definite “no” was tendered. At this point, the huge, hairy beast folded up its 8 long, hairy legs and hunkered down for the ride. The Foam was intensely conscious of its presence for the first 20 minutes, then forgot about it. “It’s only the Spider Spirit,” offered JC, as if dispelling any misgivings the Foam may have harbored.
The tour was tiring but historically engaging since the Order has preserved the personal articles of many of the disciples and of Ramakrishna himself. At Dakshineswar, the Foam had another weepy spell while meditating in the room where for years Ramakrishna instructed, teased, thrilled and amused his disciples.
Vivekananda’s history is no less engaging; any American would be intrigued by his captivation of national attention as a religious superstar in Chicago and the ensuing four years, leaving Vedanta centers that still thrive in Hollywood, San Francisco, Portland OR, St. Louis, Chicago, Tampa and New York, with many smaller, swami-less groups in between.
Tomorrow: The six-hour round trip journey through the countryside to the rural birthplaces of the two saints.
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Portal to the Concourse
Leading to Belur Math
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