The Krishna Mandir and Divine Intervention

On the suggestion of the stone-worker (from the previous post), I began the journey uphill to find the Krishna Mandir. About 3 Km uphill, I realized I was lost. I also realized I was thirsty, and worse, hypoglycemic. I had two cups of tea before I left for Naggar since none of the breakfast stalls were open. It was now 2 PM and I needed food. I decided to give up and head downhill to a little Italian joint that had a four cheese pasta that was making my mouth water. Ahead I saw sunlight shining brightly in a clearing - I figured this was a sign, so I headed in its direction. Another uphill climb and I came across a troop of monkeys. Not what I was expecting. But the road went around a corner, downhill, on the other side of the hill from Naggar. Not wanting to get lost I turned around for food, figuring I at least found some wild monkeys. I made it about a kilometer downhill when I came across three women carrying their moss-filled baskets. They looked surprised to see me and the words slipped out of my mouth "I couldn't find the Krishna Mandir so I'm heading down" as if I needed an excuse to be walking downhill. "But it's only just a bit up the hill." And at that point I decided that, no, He really was calling, so I would leave my health state in His hands and go have His darshan.

As I came back up the hill, I realized I was retracing steps. I came across the clearing where I saw the monkeys. But the road around the corner was calling, and I couldn't look away. And so I started walking. And only 200 yards down that road was the Mandir. A beautiful, old, isolated, and hidden mandir. I had been so close. I took my shoes off and went inside and knelt before Krishna's murti and thanked Him for His darshan. Exhausted, I sat down, ready to faint from the lightheadedness.

And literally, right at that moment, the pujari came from around the corner holding a pot of jal and a laddu. "Don't ask me how, but Krishna made me to keep some jal and laddu ready this morning. I think He meant it for you."

This is perhaps what I would call my first really spiritual experience. Call it coincidence, call it divine intervention. But that laddu and few sips of water kept me from passing out right there at His feet. "Sit and relax," said the pujari, "where are you from?" "America." (Laughter) "That's amazing. People from Naggar hardly come up here!"

It's a pity that they don't. It has the most spectacular view of the Kullu Valley - trumped every other one by far. And the only sound is the wind. Even the engine sounds of the cars in the valley below didn't carry to the mountain top. After about an hour of drinking in Krishna's murti and the beauty of His creation, I realized how hungry I was. And no kidding, right at that moment, the pujari came out with a steaming hot plate heaped with rice, daal, and rajma. "You must be hungry - you must not leave without having some prasad." Screw four-cheese pasta. That was the best meal I've had... maybe ever. And with the best view ever. Me, my food, and the sound of the wind.

I've always heard that God takes care of His seekers. Take one step toward Him, He takes ten toward you. For the first time, I really experienced it. I wanted to give back - "Is there some seva I can do?" I inquired. "No, we're just a simple mandir." "Then can I leave a donation?" The pujari laughed. I didn't understand what was so funny. Then I realized why he was laughing.

In the first temple, church, mosque, anywhere that I've really deeply wanted to leave a donation - there was nowhere to leave it. No accounting office, no record book, not even a daan peti.

Figures.