Depression and Reunion with Kama Nagari

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Nearly six weeks had passed and still I had not contacted Kama Nagari. Eventually she got me on the phone with the help of Jagadisha’s wife, Lakshmi Muni. She asked me what she was supposed to do. She had no money and could not pay any bills or even the mortgage on the house. I simply told her that I was never returning to Dallas and she could do whatever she wanted. I did not care. She cried, but I ignored her. A week later Lakshmi Muni came to me at breakfast and said, “Kama Nagari is arriving from Dallas at 2 PM. Be at LAX to meet her.” Reality was about to hit me once again. In desperation Kama Nagari had quit her job and booked herself and Vrindavan on a flight to Los Angeles in order to plead with me to let her back into my life. As I recall this incident I am appalled by how I treated her. She had done nothing wrong. She had simply trusted me. Deep down I was not planning to abandon her. I loved her, and given enough time, I would have contacted her and brought her to Los Angeles.

At the time, however, the events of the previous year were exploding within my mind. I was in the depths of depression, only I could not understand what was happening to me. Why was I acting in this way? Inadvertently I had been taking therapeutic time alone in order to sort things out. Consequently, I was living the fantasy of a single man, something that I should have done before I had gotten married. Moreover, I was confused about the immediate issue. Kama Nagari and I had come to Dallas, bought a house and now here I was in Los Angeles with no intention of ever returning to Dallas. What was I to do with our house? I had no experience with such things and I had no one to talk with. I just could not reconcile this predicament. So I did nothing. I loved Kama Nagari and I wanted her, but I just could not face anymore life or make any more decisions at this time. My cup was full.

Secretly, however, I was hoping that she would just show up in Los Angeles and force me back to reality. So when I heard that she was coming I was relieved and happy and yet I was so deep in depression that I could not express myself to her or anyone else. When I met Kama Nagari at the airport I acted like nothing had happen.

“Oh I am glad you came!” I said.

“Well, you could have called!” She replied.

“Sorry,” I said. And that was the end of the matter. We said nothing more about this for the remainder of a married life! Recently when I asked her why she did not become enraged for the horrible way that I treated her, she told me that she just wanted to be with me, but she was afraid that if she expressed her anger and hurt it might driven me even further away. So she just kept silent and swallowed her pain. As I write these words and think of these events, I realize that I was young, inexperienced and overwrought by pressures that had forced me into depression, but still I am haunted by how I acted. Kama Nagari has since forgiven me, but I am not sure I can forgive myself.

Anna, since these days I have experienced depression at other times in my life. On each occasion they have occurred in conjunction with extreme external pressures. One such state occurred in 1987 after the collapse of New Vrindavan. Suffice to say that I was intelligent enough at the time to seek the help of a psychologist and it was during my counseling sessions that I began to understand what depression is, how to avoid it or at least how to manage it when it did occur. Another affliction occurred after I began working with the Hindu community in Southern California. On this occasion, I experienced a physical collapse and almost died. I will speak of these events in detail at the appropriate times.

Image Source: http://francishunt.blogspot.com/2010/11/depression.html

Chateau de Versailles

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Right now I am sitting on a first class train traveling to Milan. Train travel is something that I enjoy immensely, but I worry that there is no security whatsoever. You see a few soldiers patrolling the stations, but other than that there is no personal screening or even baggage scanning. From an American perspective to see the military patrolling airports and train stations with machine guns and grenades on their belts is an interesting experience. Even though we have the one of the largest military you hardly see it. We are not accustomed to seeing such displays of weaponry in public places, But in spite of it all, anyone could bring anything on to the train. This is going to be very costly to Europe one day.

Yesterday I traveled to the Gare de Lyon in Paris to validate my Eurorail pass and to see where I needed to go in the morning. I do not like to make guesses in the last minute. I never like traveling blind. What can I say? I have now mastered the Paris Metro system as well as its REF train system. I managed to get lost for a while over the trains, but eventually I figured it out. My goal was to go to Chateau Versailles and after some confusion I eventually made it there. I could have easily taken a tour bus, but I prefer to travel alone and learn the ropes of travel in Europe. While walking in the streets of Versailles I came across a men’s barber and so I stopped for a hair cut. Last trip I would never have attempted such a feat, but this time I am more confident. Outside of Paris hardly any English is spoken and so again I got an good chance to speak french with the local barber. After my hair cut I tipped him and asked if I could use his toilet and to my great surprise I found a squatter just like India. I asked him about this and he explain that such things are common in the villages. With my injured knee I am not sure such a device would be welcomed, but otherwise they really are good arrangements for nature.

The Chateau Versailles is absolutely unbelievable, such exquisite decadence! I saw so much Palace of Gold from New Vrindavan here! I see where Bhaktipad got his ideas and where he was going personally in terms of his imperial guruship. It was also exciting to know that Benjamin Franklin came here and that the Treaty of Versailles was signed here after WWI, at least in a box car nearby. I also noted the design of the palace around the nine planets and how the entrance faces east. There is a lot of classical influence in this palace. Although there are of course many Christian motiffs the majority of what I saw was Roman and Greek. Even the term Sun King is classical. Versailles is a definite must see.

After Versailles I returned to Paris by train and returned to a particular cafe that I like to dine. Again I love to eat in France. I have learned to take great time over a meal, at least one hour is mandatory. After my meal I returned to my hotel and arranged my check out. I paid 215 Euros for four nights! Unbelievable! Ordinary rates for such a place are 450 Euros per night. I thank my hosts. I was also surprised how crowded the Metro is. Even after 9 PM. the cars are packed. I have never sweated so much. It is not possible to talk to people on the Metro. They would think you are up to something.

Back to Dallas

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On July 4th 1976, the 200th anniversary of the founding of United States, Kama Nagari, 6 weeks old Vrindavan and I arrived on the border between Canada and the United States at Detroit, Michigan. I was about to become an official resident alien. At the US consul in Toronto the American immigration authorities had given me a large sealed document folder to give to an entry point agent when I arrived in the US. Everything went without a hitch until I was told that I must register for selective services. The US military? That was a shocker. I never anticipated that. So what could I do but sign up? As it turned out I was not actually joining the military, instead I was making myself available for the draft. The US government could call me up for military service anytime. Still, this was not something I had anticipated. At the time, the Canadian military was an all volunteer army and not a very large one at that. I knew no one in the military. So in great anxiety I registered for the draft and became an official resident of the US. We piled back into our tiny VW “bug” and continued our journey to Dallas. I had legally come to the US.

Anna, unless you have lived in the southern United States you can not imagine the heat and humidity of summer. The temperature was in the 40s with 85% humidity when we arrived. It was hellish. I remember scrounging up a tiny little room in the bell tower of the temple with no air conditioning that I could use as a office and a place to live. A year before, the Dallas temple had been a “happening place,” but in the months before we had arrived the school had closed and the temple was in a depressed broken state. We arrived in the midst of this disaster.

Prabhupada had declared the West a spiritually unfit place to raise children and had ordered the Dallas school closed. All of its children were to be moved to India. A new Krishna conscious school was being built in Vrindavan, the birth place of Krishna. This decision devastated the Dallas temple. Suddenly the 250 children and 80 teachers and support staff were gone. Kama Nagari and I had come to Dallas specifically for the school. Now there was no school, but we were emotionally committed to being there. So with reservations-mostly because we had no where else to go-we decided to stay in Dallas. We had no place to live, no income and now no purpose for being there. It was hot, humid and depressing. We had moved to hell.

Our two priorities were to buy a house and get a job. So we went house hunting. It is hard to imagine, but during the year we lived in Toronto we had saved about $5000 Canadian dollars. We arranged to have that money wired to the US to be used as a down payment on a house. I can still remember the look on the assistant bank manager’s face when we converted the Canadian dollars into American. It came out to $5,862.35. She went white. The Canadian dollar was worth more than the American dollar! It was around $1.15. We were delighted, but this lady was insulted beyond measure. Canada was worth more than the great United States! I remember driving around for hours with a real estate agent looking for a house. The neighborhood in Dallas where the temple was situated was almost a ghetto. It was a very run down and depressing area. It was nothing like Canada. I was suffering from culture shock. The only redeeming feature of this neighborhood was the cheap real estate.

The buildings were old single story fame houses without basements. I was used to brick two story homes with basements. These things seemed like match stick shacks to me. In spite of this, we eventually settled on a somewhat respectable house on a run down street just a 10 minute walk from the temple. It is bad business to buy the best house on a poor street, but there was no way that I was going to live in some rundown dump. There was already another offer on this house so we made an offer that was accepted immediately. I just offered the asking price on the house. I did not want to negotiate. I just wanted a house. I recall that we paid $17,500. I suppose we could have bought it for $15,000, but at the time I did not care. Saving a few thousand dollars and endangering the deal was not worth it. Today that house is worth well over $300,000. I should never have sold it. Kama Nagari never had a problem finding a job, so within a day or two she again used her Jewish connection and found a good job. This time it was as a book keeper. It is good to be Jewish in North America. It took about 45 days to close the house deal and so we moved in as quickly as possible. It was a relief to get out of the bell tower of the temple and into our own home. Unfortunately, one month later I took a trip to Los Angeles and never again returned to Dallas to live.

 

 

Image Source*: http://serafinosays.com/2011/04/15/daily-uncle-sam-wants-you/

Image Source**: http://www.julieinjapan.com/2009_06_01_archive.html

Musei Vaticani and Sistine Chapel

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Monday, October 4, 2005 9:05 AM

After San Pietro, the Sistine Chapel is where everyone wants to go. The Sistine Chapel is located at the end of a path that takes you through the Vatican Museum (Musei Vaticani). The Vatican Museum is located not too far from San Pietro with one tiny tiny detail. There is a line to the Vatican Museum that is hundreds of blocks long, or at least that is what it feels like. On the day I was there it was raining a steady downpour and it was the off season. The line to get in was 5 hours long. I cannot imagine coming to this place on a beautiful day during the tourist season.

The Vatican Museum is similar to the Louvre in Paris with the exception that it specializes in Christian and ancient Roman history. While I was there I was struck by the huge number of decapitated ant eaters. They are everywhere. This reflects the morality of Christianity. In Paris no such desecration has occurred. And like the Louvre, the way to get the most out of a visit to the Vatican Museum is to do your homework before you come here. Otherwise you are just looking at rooms and hallways and more rooms and hallways full of stuff, really really neat stuff, but stuff just the same. My advice, like the Louvre, is to study just one or two things that you know are here and then come and see them. You cannot possibly know even a fraction of what these wonderful places hold, but if you see just one thing that you have studied in advance it will make the experience so much better.

The high point of the trip through the Vatican Museum is the Sistine Chapel and the ceiling, of course, the main main point of interest in the Sistine Chapel. Unfortunately, I was not much impressed. It is like the Louvre. There, the Mona lisa, is one of the biggest attractions, but when you actually see it, you wonder, “That is it”? So in the same way Michaelangelo’s ceiling painting of Adam and God is good, but in comparison to all the other amazing things that you see along the way in the Vatican Museum, it is overrated. But then again, when I was left alone and allowed to sit quietly in the Sistine chapel without the crowd and the constant announcements in 10 different languages not to take photos, the majesty of this this painting or the Mona Lisa would eventually come to me.

Santa Paulo

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Monday, October 4, 2005 9:05 AM

Santa Paulo is not located in the same area of Rome as the Vatican and so it is not as crowded and therefore easier to see and spend time in. The outside of the building, while still not that impressive is better than Santa Pietro. There is a wonderful mosaic over the front entrance that is exquisite. Saint Paul himself stands guard at the entrance. The inside of the cathedral is massive with mosaics on all the walls and ceilings. It is a virtual museum of art. The main doors are made of massive bronze that shows the crucifixion and other sacred scenes. Both Santa Paulo and Santa Pietro are living cathedrals. You can see priests moving about on their various duties. There are confessional booths on all side of the cathedral with seemingly every language of the world covered. If you want to meet a priest and speak in Chinese there is a booth and time scheduled.

When I walk through a massive building like this and I compare it to our own tiny temple that we have helped to build I know what is involved in creating a sacred structure such as this and I wonder, “Who built this place? How did they pay for it? Where did the artisans come from?” I am humbled.

Cathedral Photography

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Monday, October 3, 2005

On Sunday, after seeing the ancient ruins of Rome I visited the cathedral to Paul called Santa Paulo. Later I visited Rome’s major cathedral to Saint Peter, Santa Pietro. Santa Paulo is grand, but Santa Pietro is beyond anything you can imagine. Personally I was not impressed with the outside of either cathedral or most cathedrals in Itally. The French cathedrals are much more impressive on the outside, yet the inside of the Italian cathedral is overwhelming. Between these two places I must have taken 400 photos. The beauty of digital photography is that you can take an unlimited number of photos. It is extremely hard to photograph any cathedral because of the darkness inside and because in most places flash photography is strictly prohibited. Even when it is allowed, how far can a flash reach when you are in a structure the size of a football field? Tripods are not even allowed without special permission which can take weeks to obtain. Yet the great thing about of digital photography is that you can turn off the flash and shoot holding the camera very very still and the ccd will usually pick up enough light to create an image, particularly if the digital camera is used with a “raw” or very high density jpg setting. What you will see on the camera’s lcd will be completely black, but you can process the image later, raise the exposure setting, sharpen the image to remove most of the handheld blur and then crop and straighten the image to get an acceptable photo. This is how most of my images were taken.

Another problem with shooting in a cathedral is that you are usually standing in a crowd that is moving along. Most large cathedrals are set up so you enter through one set of doors at the front, move through the building in a counter clockwise direction and then exit through another set of doors. As you move through the cathedral you are pushed along by a large crowd of competing photographers and pilgrims with audio tour headsets. It seems everyone has a camera! Most people are using tiny digital cameras or even cell phone cameras so I cannot imagine that they are getting usable photos. Very few are using a large size DSLR cameras like I me. Everyone is tripping over everyone else to take the same shots. So under these circumstances photography within a cathedral is difficult. Given that this was my first attempt, I am extremely happy with the results that I achieved. I went through Santa Paulo and Santa Pietro in the off season and on a rainy day, so I can only imagine what it would be like during the peak season.

The line waiting to get into Santa Pietro was about three hours long and it was raining. Knowing some tricks from India where waiting in line is a given, I cut this wait down to about an hour. After Santa Pietro I went into the Cistine Chapel. The line was over 5 hours long, also in the rain. I was able to get through in about 2 hours. I thank Gaura Keshava for his knowledge of line speeding. I am sure he would have been through in 15 minutes, but I am not willing to be that bold. He is Australian and I am Canadian.

Ancient Rome

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Sunday, October 3, 2005

Today, (Sunday) I took a tour of the ancient ruins of the Roman Empire. They were spectacular! Part of what I want to achieve in this trip is to look back into my Western roots. Christianity, of course, is just one part of those roots and I saw a lot of that in Paris, and I will see more here, but the more critical part of those roots is in my non Christian past, namely classical Greece and ancient Rome.

This may seen strange to you, but my Hindu side brings the Roman Empire very close to my psyche. Indian and ancient Rome have a lot in common, namely, they have similar religions. The religious foundations of the Roman Empire and, for that matter, all of Europe are based on the poly-theistic traditions of the ancient Aryans. The mono-theism of Christianity came much later and covered over those distant origins, but they are still there if you look closely. Anna, the religious renewal that I experienced in Paris at Notre Dame was not a Christian religious experience. That would be something very specific, instead my experience was more universal. The cathedral of Notre Dame is dedicated to the Virgin Mary, who is none other than a local manifestation of a universal feminine force that, for lack of a better word, I call Mother. Projected through Christian culture the Virgin Mary is the local “portal” for that force. This universal Mother force appears in all religious cultures, as Durga in India, or as the Goddess Roma in ancient Rome or Athena to the classical Greeks, and so on. In Notre Dame I was touched by this universal feminine force, Mother. And just as a mother, nurtures and cares for her children, that is how I felt in Notre Dame. What a wonder, that in the living culture of Christianity, I found this universal force. It was most unexpected. The sound of the chanting, the roar of the pipe organ resounding through the cathedral, the smell of the incense and the very ambiance of the cathedral itself all worked in unison to evoke the experience of Mother within me. This is the power of symbols.

Anna, please do not dismiss or under estimate what I am saying. There are many universal forces that work in this world to shape who we are. They are within us and through the proper use of symbols these forces can be evoked, like striking a piano key. The grandeur of ancient Rome is hard to experience today because it lays in ruins and is covered by the magnificent art and architecture of Christianity. The glory of Christianity, however, is built on the foundations of classical Greece and ancient Rome. The Greeks, the Romans and the Indians are related as cousins. Today only the religious culture of the Indian branch of this group is still alive. My visit to ancient Rome is a walk into my European classical roots. I was enthralled to see temples to Roman Gods and Goddesses. It is just like India. I felt at home.

The remains of the Roman Empire are amazing. So old! The best example is the Colosseum. Most of everything else is buried or decayed beyond visual recognition, but the feelings are still strong in these ruins. I sensed that I was very close to some amazing powers. I can not begin to tell all the details. That you can find in books. All I can show you are some photos that I took around the Colosseum. These are sites that, of course, have been photographed a million times, but to me they are special because I was there to take them myself. What a great feeling to move my hand across the wall of the Colosseum before I pushed the camera button to record that history or to walk on the roads where a million chariots once moved through these streets. I stood in the temple of Roma, the same Goddess of Notre Dame, Mother.

Italy: First Impressions

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Sunday, 2 October, 2005

European train travel is excellent. It gives time and a chance to talk with other travelers. Right now I am in Italy coming towards Rome. I have about an hour left to travel. The country side, like France, appears prosperous and clean. The area around Paris was flat. Somewhat like Guelph near Toronto. Here the land is more like Belleville or Peterbough, gently to moderatly rolling. Very green. In Paris it was beginning to look like autumn, there is less of an autumn look here. We have been going through a lot of tunnels. No bill boards in Italy! What a mess they make of America. I have to say I really enjoy the train ride. Having a sleeper is a good idea. It was worth the cost. I probably paid 35 Euros more, maybe 50. Who knows? I don’t care.

Stepping into the streets of Rome, I see the people are shorter, darker and more weighty. Not obese, but certainly more endowed than Parisians. The streets look just as crowed as Paris, but more broken and older. If I complained that Parisians never waited for the lights to change before crossing the streets, they may as well remove the traffic lights completely here. Not even the cars seem to mind them.

My first impression of Rome is that it is “ethnic.” Paris was not ethnic except in certain areas, but here it all seems ethnic. I will explain what I mean later. My room in Rome is more modern and clean than Paris. And more tiny! Unfortunately it is close to the elevator and front desk. I fear that it is going to be noisy. Paris was dead silent. I tried to have the room changed, but it was all booked. I bet they would do it if I offered to pay, but I am not going to get into that. So this is where the ear plugs will come in handy. We will make due.

Sainte Chapelle

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Sainte Chapelle is a small cathedral that ispatterned after Chartres in terms of its stain glass. It is situated in Paris on the Ile de la Cite in front of Notre Dame cathedral. It was originally built by Louis IX in around 1239 AD and was heavily damaged during the French revolution because it was a symbol of the French monarchy. Chartres of course it massive, Sainte Chapelle is tiny, but intense.

The amount of stained glass for the size of the building is incredible. Unfortunately, Sainte Chapelle is dead. It is no long a living place of worship. It is just a museum of gothic style architecture and stained glass, a very good museum indeed. The best thing about this cathedral is that is shows color inside similar to what was once inside of Chartres. It is spectacular.

Paris and Rome

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Wednesday, November 30, 2005 11:02:03 PM

Dear Naty,

Arriving in France was a completely different experience than arriving in Italy. I came to France by jet; I came to Italy by rail. One is immediate and the other is leisurely. I prefer to travel by rail. Rail travel is slow and gradual. Some of my greatest memories of India are from my rail travels. I especially like sleeping on a train. The motion and sound puts me to sleep. It is like being rocked in a cradle. Rail travel allows me to psychologically adjust between where I am coming from and where I am going to. So I arrived in Rome by 10 AM after an all night ride from Paris that took me through Switzerland. Ah Italy is the land of the best coffee. I picked up the habit of morning cappuccino on the train to Rome. I will never forget that single morning coffee.

When I first arrived on the streets of Paris after an all night flight from Los Angeles I was totally disoriented. It was 5 PM and dusk was setting in. I stood on the street in front of the Bastille Metro station for a full ten minutes trying to get my bearings. Where was I? I had never seen a traffic circle in years and it took me for ever just to see where the street signs were located. In Rome the minute I stepped out of the train station I knew exactly where I was going. I had time to prepare on the train. By Rome I had worked out all the routines of how to move luggage and how to use a street map. I was a seasoned traveler. In Paris I was lost; in Rome I knew exactly where I was. I immediately found my hotel, checked in, found out how to say excuse me and thank you in Italian, and headed for lunch and a tour of the city. What a difference between arriving in Paris and Rome!

In France I began every new conversation with, “Je suis un Americain, mais je ne veux pas parler anglais. Parlez-s’il vous plait seulement le francais avec moi. I am an American, but I do not want to speak English. Please, only speak to me in French. In Italy I never got beyond “grazie,” thank you, which meant that all of my interactions in Italy were in broken English. This affected the nature my whole experience of Italy. In Italy I was a outsider; in France I was a sympathizer. In France I was there to to participate in French culture; in Italy I could only observe Italian culture. I was not prepared for Italy. In some ways I should not have gone to Italy, on the other hand, I went to Italy to gain basic European travel experience such as traveling by rail and surviving in a culture were I knew virtually nothing. In this regard it was a successful trip.

I learned that the French take themselves very seriously. They are nationalistic and proud of how well their society works. (I am sure the recent riots throughout the country took them down a notch or two.) Italians, on the other hand, take themselves in a light hearted way. Nothing in Italy seems to work that well and the Italians even joke about it. During the five days I was there the subway in Rome was closed for two days and a general strike for the whole country was planned for the day after I left. The French are frilly and high strung. The Italians are easy going and basic. The diet of France is cuisine, the diet of Italy is food. I was prepared for France I was ill prepared for Italy. Previously I wrote that would not return to Italy. On reflection however, I will definitely return to Italy, but only after proper preparation.

The next time I go to Europe I will only go to one region and not stay more than a week. I think a series of single region short trips is not a bad way to go. Pick a place, study and prepare for it, and then go and do it. I would like to return to Paris just to “do” the Louvre. I would like to return to Italy just to cover a few cities in the north and then on another trip to cover a few cities in the south. I was amazed that I could get on a plane at noon in Italy and be home in Los Angeles the same day by 9 PM. Indeed, the world is not really that big.