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Mar 162017
 

Two Ghost Stories

Once when Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati was opening a new center

in a house that had been given for the use of the Gaudiya Mission, a ghostly

incident occurred.

He was staying in a room on the second floor.  One brahmacari was in

attendance, reading Srimad Bhagavatam while he worked at his desk.

That brahmacari suddenly saw a bone‑hand float in

through the window.  He cried out and fainted.  When Srila

Bhaktisiddhanta inquired the cause for his alarm, the brahmacari told what

he’d seen, but Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati didn’t seem to take it as very

important.  He told the brahmacari to chant Hare Krishna, not cry unin‑

telligibly.

Thereafter the hand again appeared and floated into the room as if

to grasp the neck of Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati.  This time the brahmacari

chanted Hare Krishna and then fainted.  Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati

revived the brahmacari, saying, “Don’t faint.  Chant and read Srimad Bhaga‑

vatam.”  When the hand came again, the brahmacari did just that.  Srila

Bhaktisiddhanta saw the hand and chanted, “Haribol!”, and the hand

disappeared.  He then said to the brahmacari, “No need to worry,

that ghost is now delivered.”

In Vrndavana, one baba was visiting from Bengal.  He was staying at

one guest house (the owner of this guest house told this story).  So that

baba, not knowing Vrndavana too well, inquired directions from the guest

house owner how to visit one temple and return.  The proprietor gave him

directions, but with the warning to stay off the sidestreets in

a certain district he’d have to pass through.

So that baba went on his tour, and when returning, he passed by those

small, narrow side roads.  From down one he heard the sweet sound of kirtan.

He thought, “There is a festival of Harer Nama!  It sounds ecstatic.  Let

me see this.  After all, this is Krishna’s own holy dhama ‑ what can be the

harm in passing this way?”

So he went down that street, and soon came upon a group of men and

women chanting the Hare Krishna mantra to khol and karatalas.  They all looked

like pukka Vaishnavas.  The baba happily joined in the kirtana.  After some

time they offered him a place to sit for honoring prasad, but he told that

he had to return.  So they rolled prasad into a bananna leave and gave him.

He arrived at the guest house in ecstacy.  “It was wonderful!”  he

began telling that proprietor.  “I went down your forbidden narrow street

on my way back here, and saw the most wonderful harer nama kirtan festival.

And just see ‑ they’ve given nice prasad!”  He unrolled the leave ‑ there

was only hunks of raw meat inside.

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