Who's the Big Controller?
BY: BALAVIDYA DASA
Oct 21, USA (SUN) — Once upon a time, I had a very interesting conversation with a friend of mine, one of the earliest disciples of Srila Prabhupada. This soul had a great big body, but as is so often the case with the big-bodied, he was generally gentle and unruffled in his manner. He had an easy smile and natural, relaxed sense of humor that carried him through the day. Charismatic, he was always good company, especially because he was a fountain-head of intimate stories of Srila Prabhupada, to whom his attachment was beyond deep.
One day we were sitting together and the topic of mayavadi philosophy came up. He started to shift on his chair, made a theatrical grimace, and his massive arms moved as his broad hands started to chop the air purposely. It was not hard to see that he would have made a great body-guard.
"We were always wondering why Prabhupada," he said, "was talking so much about the mayavadis. The mayavadis! We didn't even know what a mayavadi was; what to speak of their philosophy."
He withdrew from acting out the emotion of the story, glanced over at me, and broke out into a big smile as he rocked back and forth, letting out a laugh or two.
"Impersonalists? What's an impersonalist? We didn't understand. They want to be God. How's that possible? How could anyone become God? There was a lot of discussion over doughnuts in the coffee shop round the corner from 22nd Avenue after the classes."
One the planet's great raconteurs, for dramatic effect he took a little break from the story, stretching and flexing as he re-settled himself into his chair.
"So we resolved to sort the problem out. One day in Prabhupada's rooms, across the courtyard and upstairs at the back of 22nd Avenue, we asked Prabhupada, 'Just who are these rascal mayavadis and impersonalists? And why is it so important? Why so much stress on them?' We weren't ready for the answer…"
The drama of the moment was high, and knowing his audience was hooked, he looked me deep in the eye as he straightened his arms, placing both hands on his knees. It was an impressive posture. Then, he opened his eyes wide, raised his eyebrows, rolled his head a little backwards, and looked at me down the length of his nose, while taking a deep breath. Something big was coming.
"'You are the mayavadis!' Prabhupada roared at us, 'You are the impersonalists! You want to become God! You want to enjoy! You don't want to surrender! You want to be the big controller!'"
His imitation of Srila Prabhupada's roar was completely effective, and for moments I trembled as I felt as if Srila Prabhupada was roaring at me also. It was a great moment. Later, I could understand that Srila Prabhupada was roaring at not only my friend and me but every fallen soul within the universe. We all want to exploit, control and enjoy. We invent nonsense philosophies all meant to avoid surrender to Godhead. We love to think of ourselves as the center of the universe, very great and god-like. We fancy and tell others that we can become omnipotent, omnipresent and omniscient. When we are told to find a guru to lead us out of our delusion, we juggle words, trying to turn guru into a distant sky-flower, unable to insist upon what we see as the inconvenience of surrender. Instead, we rudely treat people as mere objects for our personal profit and whimsical usage. We destroy the beauteous gifts of Mother Nature, thoughtlessly and wastefully. And, all the time, we justify this gross misbehavior with convoluted, self-serving rationalization that we take as the most sublime understanding available within all eternity.
Our raconteur lent back in his chair and slightly nodded his great head a number of times while beaming a satisfied smile at me. There was no need to say more; it was a time for contemplation. The point had been made.
