Worms, Dirt and a Miracle

Book distribution report - Aug 5&6, 2010

By Anita dasi

I was walking back from a dip in Ganga devi in Haridwar, thinking what a nice start to this ekadasi. Nearby the matha I met two nice boys from Delhi and invited them in, shortly thereafter two more contacts stopped by. We were all having a nice chat and I was thinking what a peaceful day.

Bakula didi went to show them some books; suddenly she raised the alarm. “WORMS!!!” She hurried over with a pocket edition of the Bhagavad-gita, and showed me how worms had eaten the pages of the book. We had about 2000 books stored under the altar in the Haridwar matha. We quickly checked through all the boxes. Luckily the worms had only infested about 5 boxes. The books from the infested boxes we spread in the sun – worms hate sun.

But what to do with the books? We could not keep them in the same storage or they would all be digested. When Srila Gurudeva says to go deep into the books, I don’t think he meant it for the book worms. First we asked in the matha and guest house if they had a drier place to store the books that were not yet infested, but they could not help. Out of desperation I turned to one of the guests. He has not yet meet Srila Gurudeva yet, but he has been reading Srila Prabhuapda’s books for years. We met him in April at Kumbah and he has been inviting us to come for programs in Badrinatha and Rsikesh. I asked him if he could take the books now to Rsikesh and store them until we come there. Thankfully he was happy to help.

The books that were from infected boxes we did not want to store with the others in case they spread, so we decided to take those ones to the Punjab and distribute them immediately. We thought we had solved the big problem of the day.

When one local contact came for lunch, I asked him, “I haven’t seen any auto rikshaws on the road. Where can we find one to take us to the train station to catch our train tonight?” The city was overloaded with Siva-bhaktas dressed in orange, collecting ganga water then going by foot, bike, motorcycle, truck, train, bus, anyhow to the Siva temple of their choice where they will bathe the Siva linga in the ganga water.

He just shook his head and said, “Not possible.”

“What?!”

“Well they can take you part way, but you will have to walk 6 km.”

We desperately thought of every possibility – taxis, bicycle rikshaw, bus, hitch-hiking, motorcycle. The best option seemed to be to get a train from a nearby local train station to the main station. “What times do the trains come there?”

“Mam, 2 pm and 7:30.” I look at the time - 1:15- and the books de-worming in the sun. No way we can be ready and at the station in forty-five minutes. And our train leaves at 7:05pm, so a 7:30 train is useless.

We deicide to speak to some bicycle-rikshaw drivers to see if they will take us the long way around. We find two who say they will for 200 rupees each, we arrange for them to come at four.

We pack up the books and our luggage. At four when the rikshaw drivers turn up they have changed their price to 600 rupees each and they are not sure they can get all the way to the railway station.

Some other contacts who came in the afternoon from Deharadoon were helping us, they also wanted to take a train back home at six pm. They again came up with the idea of the local train station, thinking that since the roads are blocked that they must be running more local trains. We sent two of them ahead to inquire. They called and said come.

When we reached the small station my heart sank, only a few people resting in the shade. The whole city was teaming, if this was really away to move across the city then it would also be packed.

Bakula didi and Savitri didi went to enquire. Sure enough the next passenger train stopping here was at 7:30 pm. They had the idea that maybe our train would be late, and went back to the office to see if they could check in their computer. Our train was on time, but the station manager felt compassion for us, so he said he could put us on the “mal gari”. The boys from Deharodoon started laughing. I asked, “What does it mean?”

“Dirty train.”

After about 45 minutes a cargo train rumbled to a stop in front of the station. It was literally filled with dirt. With the help of three friends from Deharodoon we hauled our (you know the tune ) 5 boxes, 4 back packs, 3 rollies, 2 shoulder bags and 1 poster roll to the caboose of the train. Another 15 minutes pass and the train rolls into motion. We easily cross the few kilometers to the main train station, arriving about 15 minutes before our train.

Next mission: to find out what platform our train leaves from and get our luggage to it on time. Savitiri didi runs ahead and finds out its on platform seven. But the mystery is that the Dirty Train dropped us on platform 5 and there is nothing beyond that. We cannot find any porters or anyone to help, no signs indicating where this mysterious platform is. Maybe something out of a Harry Potter book. We are down to less than 5 minutes. How can we have overcome all odds to reach the train station only to not find the platform?

Finally one boy who sweeps out the trains understands we need platform seven. He leads us tearing through the train station to some practically hidden platforms, no time to go to overpass, we cross a set of tracks by climbing down from the platform, across the tracks and up the other side. Bakula and I are hot on the heals of this little sweeper, dripping in sweat, heart pounding, lungs burning (note to self – more athletic training is needed for book distribution). We reach our coach and fling the bags on. Just them the train gave a lurch. I look down the platform. I call out to the others, “Just get on in any coach!” Sulata and Saviti didi jump on as the train begins to pull off. I look out to the platform and see the three boys running as best they can with five boxes down the platform. The train begins to gain momentum, and I start running towards them thru the inside of the train. Hope against hope that they just throw the books into any coach.

Suddenly a miracle. The train stops. Some conductor must have seen our mad dash. I get to the compartment near the boys, they toss the boxes on to the train. I fold my hands in pranams, and call thanks as the train starts off again.

We met these boys during Kumbah mela some months ago, they came back to see us again. Little did they know they would get roped into our mad adventure and even miss their own train. And the contact from Badrinath who came to visit us and ended up with 16 boxes of books in his custody. I guess its sucretee like this that adds up over time. I pray that very soon they come to sat guru.