A life in the day

Meditation, chanting and ancient scripture define the routine of Krishna devotees

Devotees of Krishna start their day so outrageously early, it's still the middle of the night before. When London’s clubbers are emptying out onto the streets, the members of the Krishna temple down in Soho are already up. Some roll out of bed at 2.30am and some at 3.00. Minutes later they’ve had a warm shower finished with an icy splash to wake them up.

The women wear traditional sarees – nine yards of riotous colour, and the men tie their saffron or white cotton cloth into dhotis and finish the look off with a long shirt, or kurta. In keeping with many religions, the Krishna wardrobe is frozen in history. Round about the Middle Ages to be precise.

They then make up a thin paste of yellow clay in their left hand and apply a "U" shape on the forehead with their right hand, terminated with a leaf-shape on the nose. This, together with the three strands of neck beads made of sacred tulasi wood is the marking of a Vaishnava, one who is dedicating their life to Vishnu or Krishna.

The devotees then gather before the shrine bearing the beautiful white marble forms of Krishna and Radha on the first floor of the London temple. So energetic and musically contagious is the kirtan, or rhythmic chanting and dancing with drums and cymbals, that returning revellers have been known to knock on the door downstairs trying to get in, convinced there’s a party going on.

At 5.00 begins a 90-minute period of cross-legged and determined meditation. Vaishnavas meditate not on the sound of one hand clapping (they prefer two hands) or on silence, or the breath, but on the sound of the maha-mantra.

The Sanskrit words indicating the Infinite are said to be infused with spiritual power and when recited awaken the inner self to higher realisation and pleasure. Maha means ‘great’ and mantra is a compound of the word mana (mind) and trayate (to free). So the Hare Krishna, Hare Rama chant is that sound which provides great freedom for the mind. Both Krishna and Hare are names for God as is Rama which means "the Source of all Pleasure". At only 32 syllables it is quite short by mantra standards, but powerful with it.

The proof of the pudding, however, is in the chanting. Try it at home – around 5.00 on a Sunday morning of course – and see the results for yourself:

Hare Krishna Hare Krishna
Krishna Krishna Hare Hare
Hare Rama Hare Rama
Rama Rama Hare Hare

After another exuberant kirtan, by this time in a packed temple room, there comes scripture study (svadhyaya). The books the Krishna devotees read and discuss at this time are 3,000 years older than the Dead Sea Scrolls. Written in Sanskrit, the ancient mother-tongue, they describe a broad and universalistic philosophy, science, history, culture and art, and have been studied like this every morning in India for thousands of years by millions of people.

In the morning the Srimad Bhagavatam – one of the Puranas, or histories, is discussed, and in the evening, the Bhagavad-gita. At 18,000 and 700 verses respectively, there’s enough philosophy there to keep anyone happy.

At 8.30 it's time for something the Krishna people do rather well: vegetarian food. At least customers at the Govinda’s Pure Vegetarian Restaurant downstairs think so. The place is always busy and has been for the past 25 years. Even without an alcohol licence they serve hundreds of meals to happy customers every day. Breakfast at the Krishna temple is quite an event, and well worth getting up early for. The food – no meat or meat products, fish, or eggs – is always "offered to Krishna" or blessed before being given to customers or guests. That ritual turns it into Prasad or "grace". Devotees say that it enhances the taste and contributes to the spiritual experience.

And by then the working day has begun. So how does a Krishna devotee fill eight hours in the day? Well, there’s as many ways as there are people. For a small self-supporting monastic community there’s always so much to do that’s purely practical. Anyone who’s watched The Monastery on television will know that monks (or nuns) can’t walk around praying and contemplating all day. Who is going to peel the potatoes or clean the floor? So it is at the Krishna temple. Except with one important difference. The Krishna temple is completely open to the public at all times and so all visitors must be offered the best hospitality. There’s tuition, counselling, guidance and opportunities to join in worship, prayer and ritual. All these activities are shared out amongst the devotees there.

Every day for the past eight years, around 300 homeless people have been served a hot, nutritious meal in one of four or five locations throughout London. The Krishna devotees work together with the Salvation Army and other groups and agencies to provide this service, and many former homeless people have sworn their undying support to the Krishnas for helping them when they were down.

And then, of course, there is the street chanting party. Every day, as regular as Big Ben, those "orange bed sheets" with their shaven heads (except for a single lock at the back for the men) can be seen and heard jingling, singing and pounding their musical way down Oxford Street. Books are distributed and invitation flyers passed out and as a result of this outreach an endless stream of visitors come to the temple. One West End advertising agency said: “We can’t think of a more mind-grabbing ad campaign than men with no hair wearing orange sheets singing in the streets – no wonder people come and join you.”

Throughout the Vaishnava year, there are many colourful festivals involving celebrations and ceremonies, flowers, incense, theatre, and grand processions. The largest is "The Festival of the Chariots" in the summer, when three red, yellow and black 50-foot high chariots with huge mirrored wheels are pulled from Hyde Park to Trafalgar Square. 10,000 people attend this one and everyone gets at least one full plate of hot Krishna food.

The aim of this entire endeavour is to fulfil a prophecy made 500 years ago in India; that the chanting of the holy names of Krishna would one day be heard around the world. With devotees of Krishna in every major city of the world passing on their peaceful message, it’s easy to see this becoming a reality.

Raised a Methodist in a small seaside village down in deepest Cornwall, Kripamoya Das met the founder of the Hare Krishna movement and became his student in 1975. He is a qualified Hindu priest.
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The 4 most unfortunate Nazi-EU comparisons made by Brexiteers

Don't mention the war.

On Tuesday morning, the Prime Minister Theresa May made her overtures to Europe. Britain wanted to be, she declared “the best friend and neighbour to our European partners”.

But on the other side of the world, her Foreign secretary was stirring up trouble. Boris Johnson, on a trade mission to India, said of the French President:

“If Mr Hollande wants to administer punishment beatings to anybody who seeks to escape [the EU], in the manner of some World War Two movie, I don't think that is the way forward, and it's not in the interests of our friends and partners.”

His comments were widely condemned, with EU Brexit negotiator Guy Verhofstadt calling them “abhorrent”.

David Davis, the Brexit secretary, then piled in with the declaration: “If we can cope with World War Two, we can cope with this."

But this isn’t the first time the Brexiteers seemed to be under the impression they are part of a historical re-enactment society. Here are some of the others:

1. When Michael Gove compared economist to Nazis

During the EU referendum campaign, when economic organisation after economic organisation predicted a dire financial hangover from Brexit, the arch-Leaver Tory MP is best known for his retort that people “have had enough of experts”.

But Gove also compared economic experts to the Nazi scientists who denounced Albert Einstein in the 1930s, adding “they got 100 German scientists in the pay of the government to say he was wrong”. 

(For the record, the major forecasts came from a mixture of private companies, internationally-based organisations, and charities, as well as the Treasury).

Gove later apologised for his “clumsy” historical analogy. But perhaps his new chum, Donald Trump, took note. In a recent tweet attacking the US intelligence agencies, he demanded: “Are we living in Nazi Germany?”

2. When Leave supporters channelled Basil Fawlty

Drivers in Oxfordshire had their journey interrupted by billboards declaring: “Halt Ze German Advance! Vote Leave”. 

The posters used the same logo as the Vote Leave campaign – although as the outcry spread Vote Leave denied it had anything to do with it. Back in the 1970s, all-Germans-are-Nazi views were already so tired that Fawlty Towers made a whole episode mocking them.

Which is just as well, because the idea of the Nazis achieving their evil empire through tedious regulatory standards directives and co-operation with French socialists is a bunch of bendy bananas.   

3. When Boris Johnson said the EU shared aims with Hitler

Saying that, Boris Johnson (him again) still thinks there’s a comparison to be had. 

In May, Johnson told the Telegraph that while Brussels bureaucrats are using “different methods” to Hitler, they both aim to create a European superstate with Germany at its heart.

Hitler wanted to unite the German-speaking peoples, invade Eastern Europe and enslave its people, and murder the European Jews. He embraced violence and a totalitarian society. 

The European Union was designed to prevent another World War, protect the rights of minorities and smaller nations, and embrace the tedium of day-long meetings about standardised mortgage fact sheets.

Also, as this uncanny Johnson lookalike declared in the Telegraph in 2013, Germany is “wunderbar” and there is “nothing to fear”.

4. When this Ukip candidate quoted Mein Kampf

In 2015, Kim Rose, a Ukip candidate in Southampton, decided to prove his point that the EU was a monstrosity by quoting from a well-known book.

The author recommended that “the best way to take control” over a people was to erode it “by a thousand tine and almost imperceptible reductions”.

Oh, and the book was Mein Kampf, Hitler's erratic, rambling, anti-Semitic pre-internet conspiracy theory. As Rose explained: “My dad’s mother was Jewish. Hitler was evil, I'm just saying the EU is evil as well.”
 

Julia Rampen is the editor of The Staggers, The New Statesman's online rolling politics blog. She was previously deputy editor at Mirror Money Online and has worked as a financial journalist for several trade magazines.