Just Like Heart Thunder

Today is the appearance day of Narottama das Thakur. Last year at this time I was lucky enough to be in Vrindavan, and go for my second visit to the Radha Vrajmohan temple, where his deities are still being worshipped. It is a beautiful place, set deep within a series of turning alleys. The chaotic buzz of the bazaars fades into the distance, and the air is peaceful. The first time I went, we set off confidently from the other side of Vrindavan, only to find ourselves going round and round in circles, getting more and more frustrated with our rickshaw wallah, who had insisted (of course) that he knew where to go. This time we still got a little lost, but the alleys and brightly painted doors were more familiar, and eventually, we pulled up in front of the small entrance to the temple.

Inside, the pujari was cleaning the altar, but stopped when he saw us come in. ‘Ah!’, he said. ‘You came here before! Some time ago, yes?’ I was surprised at his memory, but nodded, assuming he said the same to any guest who looked vaguely familiar. He paused, looking thoughtful. ‘It was, during Kartik – on the disappearance day of Narottam Das Thakur, no?’ I was amazed that he remembered. Then again, I suppose redheads aren’t so numerous in rural Uttar Pradesh.

He ushered us up to the altar to see the deities. They are beautiful in a very simple way – not finely carved or expertly decorated, but they exude a sweetness and love that is often rare to come across.

Part of their beauty comes from knowing that they were worshipped with incomparable care by Narottama Das Thakur, who inspires me so much. He was the epitome of a pure devotee of Krishna, using his ability to glorify him through words and music in a way that has benefited all who encounter his poetry and songs. He played six instruments, and developed rigorous classical methods of playing them, as a way of ornamenting the chanting of the Lord’s names. I find his writings an endless source of inspiration, but don’t read them nearly often enough. This morning, my Dad and I took a few minutes out of the day to sing ‘Sri Krsna Caitanya Prabhu’ together. It’s one of my favourites, and it was wonderful to read the translation after singing it, as it is a truly heartfelt and exemplary prayer. As Srila Prabhupada is often quoted saying: ‘The prayers of Narottama dasa Thakura – this sound is above the material platform. It is directly from the spiritual platform. And there is no need of understanding the language. It is just like a thunderburst. Everyone can hear the sound of thunder-there is no misunderstanding. Similarly, these songs are above the material platform, and they crack like thunder within your heart.’