This is one day towards the end of my pilgrimage. I am with
my friend Adam:
In Kamarpukur, the sacred village in which Sri Ramakrishna was born, I had an amazing experience. The day had started with a great meditation early in the morning. Wanting to explore on my own, I began to go on a walk through the beautiful fields of agriculture. On my way I was surprised to run into my roommate Adam. We decided to continue together. While talking to each other about our spiritual readings and comparing meditations, we saw a great banyan tree in the distance. Intrigued by the tree we set off winding our way through the fields to sit under the great banyan. When we arrived we both decided to embrace the presence of Hanuman and climb the sturdy branches of the wonderful tree. As children pass they glare up at me in the tree, pause and stare briefly and continue on their way. Enough with the climbing, Adam and I decided, and took advantage of the blissful experience we had created for ourselves and we meditated at the foot of the tree, minds at rest as the image of Ramakrishna consumed me. The nervous laughs of nearby children brought us out of meditation and we began to play badminton with the village children. After about ten minutes of the game we all sit in a circle, the language barrier no longer holding us back, for we could understand each other by looking into the deep brown eyes and smiling faces of the children. I beat box for the kids while Adam sings, giving the kids a performance which they won’t soon forget. As time passes, Adam and I realize it is time to get back to the temple grounds, we try and speak to th
e (now) crowd of kids ages from seven to fifteen and they shout something that sounds like Ramakrishna and we eagerly nod and say yes. Shortly after, we start running down the road holding the hands of the children, bare foot just like the others. We race jokingly, their excited faces smiling as wide as they can. Now running hand in hand, all laughing hysterically, the happiness and love for the world fills my heart as I embrace my emotions. We began to enter their village and I have no idea where I am but for some reason it does not matter because I feel at home. Walking, a little girl clings to my hand as if she never wants me to let it go. I look her in the eyes as she does to mine, and she gives me a shy grin, the emotion that for a brief moment consumes me. This is indescribable as I make a connection with the little girl in the yellow tattered dress. At last we are brought to a place that Adam and I recognize and know where to go. At this point the children cannot go any further. They shake their heads when we gesture to continue with us. We don’t know how to say goodbye in Bengali so we study the children as if taking a mental picture that we will keep for the rest of our lives. As we try and walk away the children again grab to hold my hands and pull on my shirt and pant leg wanting me to stay but this only lasts for a short time. Adam and I give our last waves goodbye and head back to our guest room.
Those three hours I will never forget and the smiling faces of the young villagers and the girl in the tattered yellow dress will live on in my heart and memory for the rest of my life to come.
— Logan Fansler ♦♦♦