a tale told over years.

It is the year 2009.

I stand in a small, dismal room. The rickety and rust worn shoe rack next to me threatens to collapse. When I look down, a sea of shoes reeking of sweat and socks greets my eyes. I shift my gaze to the smudged large window of the entrance door and sigh quietly. My classmate climbs into his parent's car and shuts the door before they pull out of the road lining the tutoring unit and race out of my sight. I hitch my overly large backpack higher up my shoulders and tap my foot impatiently.

Where is appa (dad)? He should be here by now!

As usual, I am the last one to leave my uncle's tutoring classes. All my friends have already left and I am the only one still waiting for my dad to pick me up. My only entertainment is watching the droplets of rainwater streak across the window and settle onto the thin silver bar at the bottom of the door.

As I stare unseeingly at the window, a flash of blue invades my peripheral vision. My eyes roam over a faded blue poster taped to the door. It is a poster for the Festival of India, a three day festival that takes place during the second week of July. Interested, I inch closer. A young girl with a beautiful array of painted blue paisleys framing her eyes rests her chin in her hands and looks up dreamily. The heading, "feed your soul" rests at the bottom of the poster in light blue lettering.

I stare at the poster for a minute. Then two minutes. Then three. The impatience I felt earlier dissipates. The poster is incredibly captivating. The expression on the girl's face, the blue paisleys, and the mystical heading "feed your soul" induce a strange feeling inside my heart.

What is this feeling?

What is it about this poster that has me so fascinated?

A glint of silver flickers at the corner of my eye and I turn to see a silver van pull up beside the unit. I throw one last glance at the poster and dart out the door and down the hill to the van.

---

It is the year 2011.

After my aunt's grueling yoga class, I clamber up the stairs with the rest of the kids to attend a meditation class led by another aunt of mine. We all sit in a circle and direct our attention to her. Her grey hair is secured tightly in a bun and she is wearing a soft blue saree. A large red bindi sits proudly between her eyebrows.

As she launches into her announcement about chanting a mantra together, my eyes wander around the room restlessly. My gaze settles on the back of the room, which is covered with shelves of portraits of different gurus. I make a mental note to check it out after the meditation session.

After class, my little sister and I head to the back of the room. We curiously examine each picture and read the labels under each one. There is a picture of Mahavatar Babaji, Swami Yogananda, Sathya Sai Baba, Mother Teresa, etc. My sister and I move from one picture to another with growing interest.

We are absolutely riveted by these personalities who seem to be situated on a completely different, mystical platform. Although I am fascinated, I also feel a bit of unease. I share my thoughts with my little sister and she agrees that she too feels edgy around these pictures.

I know that my fascination and unease with these pictures are a strange juxtaposition but I don't ponder on it.

The kids in the room start shuffling out of the room to eat the food prepared for us in the main room. My little sister and I leave the picture area and follow them down the stairs.

---

It is the year 2012.

My sisters and I jump ungracefully out of our van and follow our parents to a line of small units.

The unit, or rather temple, we are going to has a board pushed against the window. The mantra, "Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare" is displayed in gold letters against a lovely blue and green background. Other than the colourful board, there is nothing remarkable about the unit's exterior. Moreover, it looks nothing like the towering temples that we grew up with.

My dad opens the door and we enter the unit. As we remove our shoes, my eyes flit to the wall opposite to the shoe rack. There are announcements and monthly expenses pinned on a board. My eyes move past the colourful sheets of monthly expenses and settle on a large gold framed photo that rests on the center of the wall.

An old man sits upright against a large cushion. He is wearing saffron clothes and a garland of flowers hangs neatly around his neck. The wooden panels of the wall behind him are spotted with palm tree leaves. The man has a yellow marking on his forehead - two lines that converge to form the shape of a small leaf. A yellow paste of some sort is smeared on either sides of the marking on his forehead. His brown eyes hold warmth, comfort, and reveal a wisdom that I haven't seen before. As I stare at him, I'm taken back to the time my little sister and I had looked at the photos of different gurus in my aunt's meditation room. This time however, I don't feel any unease. I blink and stare harder. If I felt uneasy around the photos of the other gurus, I should feel the same around him right? But that feeling never came. Instead, I feel safe.

As I continue to gaze at the framed photo of this unknown man, I feel like I've finally come home.

---

It is the same day but a few minutes have passed.

My family and I continue into the temple room. The red carpeted floor is covered in colourful straw mats and red curtains line the front of the room. A man dressed in what seems to be a different version of a veshti , is sitting on a large armchair and is giving a lecture on a human being's purpose in the material world. A couple of devotees are scattered around the room, listening with rapt attention. We sit near the front of the room.

Once again, my eyes start to meander around the room, trying to soak in the various paintings dotting the walls. A tall banner catches my attention. The mantra I saw on the board outside the temple, "Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare" hangs in bright white letters above a group of individuals dancing and singing. My eyes zero in on one personality in particular. The first thing I notice is that He is beautiful. And when I say beautiful, I don't mean the beauty I usually find in material things or other people. He is beautiful in a mystical and ethereal way. Black curls tumble down His golden shoulders and frame a pair of wide eyes. His lips are parted and His hands are spread around Him.

How beautiful.

My attention returns to the lecture but the image of this personality remains firmly etched in my mind and my heart.

---

Little did I know how monumental and precious these four snippets of time would come to be. Now, when I look back at them, I can see how Lord Krishna guides us, as Paramatma, within our hearts, to Him. He is present everywhere and in everything. He knows our thoughts, our desires, our dislikes, our pet peeves, our wishes, and our deepest secrets.

In this material world where everything is moving too fast and things are happening too soon, sometimes we just have to pause and reflect on what we see and feel. Close your eyes. Look into your heart. Listen, wait, and watch for the subtle signs He gives.

He is everywhere and in everything, if only we seek Him.

The mystical banner I saw the first day I went to ISKCON Scarborough. I later learned that the beautiful personality that captivated my eyes was Lord Caitanya Mahaprabhu.

A clearer version of the banner

I couldn't find the exact photo of Srila Prabhupada that I saw the first day I went to ISKCON Scarborough. The temple no longer has it and I scoured the web for it but my search was fruitless. This photo, however was taken in the same room and Srila Prabhupada is wearing the same clothes and garland as the photo I saw years ago. It's a bit grainy and not of the highest quality but it is similar enough.

UPDATE: I have found it! I was sifting through the Bhagavad Gita this morning when my eyes fell upon a very nostalgic photo...

* Unfortunately, I couldn't find the Festival of India poster that was on my uncle's tutoring unit door either. If I happen to come across it one day, I will add it to this blog post.