Indradyumna Swami's Example of Renunciation

Recently Dandavats.com posted a diary entry from Indradyumna Swami titled "Mysterious Antiques". As most devotees are aware, Indradyumna Swami has an ongoing habit of writing self promotional material under the guise of a "diary". The sole purpose of the diary is really to advertise himself and attract prospective disciples and donors. Much like Radhanath Swami and his "wonderful stories" that aim only to show how advanced he is, Indradyumna's writings also are just a collection of fabricated tales made to show how Krishna personally guides the advanced devotee - who happens to be none other than himself. The target audience is obviously the new and neophyte bhaktas who don't have enough philosophical training to spot such self promotion.

Recently Rochan prabhu has been highlighting this new style of "devotional writing", where there is no real philosophy and the sole aim is to promote oneself as a highly qualified guru. Satsvarupa has always been the senior expert of this genre. He has written perhaps a hundred books of useless gobblygook. Now that is truly a case where you really do need a guru decoder ring to understand what he is speaking - it is all nonsensical gibberish. Besides Satsvarupa, other prominent guru campaigners have followed similar styles, with Indradyumna being very prominent, and Radhanatha doing the same in spoken form (knowing his disciples will transcribe it and send it to all the faithful). Last week we had also highlighted Umapati's useless writings on his personal website (www.umapati.net), which contained plenty of utterly mundane topics, such as an article where he spoke about JonBennet Ramsey. So it is clear that this style of writing has become prominent in ISKCON, and is replacing the focus of new bhaktas. Instead of spending their time studying Srila Prabhupada's books, they are catching up on the lastest antics of their favorite superheros.

In the above cited diary entry of Indradyumna Swami, all I see detailed are the ignorant wanderings of a rich american in a third world country. That's the only real message I got out of it, nothing spiritual at all. For example, one of the subjects of the article is how he spent $200 to buy a tiger's tooth necklace to bring him protection. It is not only against international law to purchase or transport products made from endangered species, but it is also sinful to kill an animal just to make a fancy necklace. It is amazing that the Swami didn't have the material nor spiritual insight to figure this out:

As we turned to go I noticed a peculiar item on his desk.

"What's that?" I asked.

"It's not for sale," he replied.

"I just want to know what it is," I said.

"It's an old tiger's tooth," he said.

"In a silver casing with a chain," I said.

"Yes," he said. "It belonged to a king hundreds of years ago."

"Is it special?" I said.

"Very special," he replied.

"How so?" I asked.

"The person who wears it will never be troubled by bad dreams," he said. "He'll be blessed, and his dreams will be good."

"Wow!" said Dhruva. "That's incredible!"

I thought about my bad dreams the previous two nights. I couldn't resist looking closer at the mysterious tooth.

"Can I hold it?" I asked.

The man picked up the tooth and put it in my hand.

It was large and dark yellow, and the silver casing had ornate carving all over it. It spoke of antiquity.

"Thanks," I said and handed it back. We turned and started to walk to the door.

"Are you interested in buying the tooth?" the man said.

"No thanks," I said as we started to open the door. "I'm sure it's too expensive."

"Just wait," the man said. "I'm willing to let this piece go for cheaper."

Dhruva and I stopped and turned around.

"I think he needs the money," Dhruva whispered. "Looks like no one ever comes here."

"How much?" I said.

"Two hundred dollars," the man said.

"That's pretty cheap," Dhruva said.

"Not in Bangladesh," I said. "It's one of the poorest countries in the world."

"I'll buy it for you," Dhruva said, and he walked back in the store. After paying for the tooth, he came back and handed it to me.

Indradyumna Swami could have taken the opportunity to tell his disciple, Dhruva, that it is illegal to own a product made from an endangered species. He could also have told him that it is sinful to kill an animal for the sake of making a fancy necklace. Or at the very least he could have told him that one should not waste Srila Prabhupada's money for material enjoyment. But he didn't tell any of these things, he happily took the new fancy silver necklace and put it around his neck.

This displays another huge problem in ISKCON. ISKCON Gurus are stealing money that should go to Srila Prabhupada's movement, and instead diverting it for their own sense gratification. Spending $200, which is around 10,000 rupees (enough money to run a small ISKCON temple an entire month in India), on personal fancy jewellery is hardly the best example one would expect from a sannyasi. We have countless examples of past ISKCON "Gurus" purchasing golden plates for themselves to eat off of, expensive clothes, jewellery, and so many other nonsensical things, most of which are later given away as "prasadam" to the cute looking lady disciples. The fact that Indradyumna didn't even blink or hesitate a second when spending $200 US dollars to buy himself fancy jewellery shows it is a regular spending habit. It's clear that this isn't the first time he has spent money like this, he has a lot of experience spending money whimsically. These false gurus are often surrounded by neophyte disciples who are eager to serve their gurus by buying them unique and exotic things. Unfortunately, the fake gurus take advantage of this kind sentiment and engage their disciples in buying all sorts of mundane things like Tiger's teeth necklaces. This money should really be directed towards the lotus feet of Srila Prabhupada, but instead it buys fancy jewellery for ISKCON sannyasis.

We should note that originally Indradyumna doesn't even know what the jewellery is, yet he is so attracted to it. He wrote:

"I just want to know what it is."

So even though he has no idea what this fancy, shiny jewellery is, this sannyasi has an immediate attraction for it and starts the process of purchasing it, knowing his disciple is there to foot the bill.

Let us now look at the philosophical message Indradyumna Swami presents in this diary entry. He wrote:

"The person who wears it will never be troubled by bad dreams," he said. "He'll be blessed, and his dreams will be good."

I thought about my bad dreams the previous two nights. I couldn't resist looking closer at the mysterious tooth.

Indradyumna Swami doesn't have faith that for protection devotees should chant Lord Krishna's holy name and pray to Srila Prabhupada and Lord Nrisimhadeva. Instead he feels an expensive talisman, a tiger's tooth necklace, is what is really required for devotees to be protected from bad dreams. What type of nonsense is Indradyumna Swami teaching to his disciples by his words and actions? If Lord Krishna's names cannot protect Indradyumna Swami from bad dreams, then nothing in this universe can protect him. Or perhaps the problem is he isn't actually chanting Lord Krishna's names anymore, like many of the other GBC and gurus. Whatever the case, it is clear by his actions that his faith in the transcendental potency of Lord Krishna's names is very small. He feels that the real solution to all his problems are not in Lord Krishna's name, but in a special talisman, an illegal Tiger's tooth necklace.

Next we would like to study Indradyumna's level of common intelligence. He writes about the Tiger's tooth:

"Yes," he said. "It belonged to a king hundreds of years ago."

And later he writes about several pairs of deities which "must be hundreds and hundreds of years old", which he later bought for $100 US Dollars. Anyone who has experience living in third world countries knows this is the oldest trick in the book. There are many special factories where they manufacture deities and make them appear old or antique using various chemicals. In India it is common to find people selling "antique coins" dating from hundreds of years ago. They sit with piles of them at many holy places, selling the coins to foolish tourists. The reality is they are all brand new forgeries, treated by chemical processes to appear old. Indradyumna falling for the line about his tiger's tooth previously belonging to a king hundreds of years ago shows he is just a foolish American in a third world country waiting to be ripped off. Later when he falls for the same line about the deities, it just confirms his stupidity. In there countries the customs officers are specifically trained to catch the smuggling of antique dieties, which are usually valued well above $15,000 US dollars each. The thought that Indradyumna found a real set of deities that were hundreds of years ago, and bought them for a mere $100 USD is hilarious. If they were even made from high quality brass, they could have melted them and received more than $100 USD just for the metal. The fact is they are made from cheaper metal combinations, primarily zinc, but given a high grade external polish to look nice (and ancient) to the tourists.

A few other portions of the diary entry caught my eye and deserve comment. For example this line which shows that Indradyumna just globe hops like a rich hippy, with no particular predesigned plan. Suddenly hop on a plane and go for an adventurous vacation at the expense of the disciples' donations:

Later in the day, I telephoned my disciple Dhruva das to ask about the possibility of visiting another holy place in India before our scheduled Vrindavan parikramas in Kartika. We talked about Haridwar, Tirupati, and Udupi. Then suddenly I had an inspiration.

"Let's go to Bangladesh," I said, "and visit the great saint Narottam das Thakur's birthplace in Keturi.

The following also shows that Indradyumna was more interested in going to the tourist resorts than visiting the ISKCON temple. He could have easily waited another 2 minutes to find a taxi that was willing to take him to the ISKCON temple, but instead he just said, "show me the beautiful tourist spots":

There was a lot of traffic and we waited a long time for a taxi. "Let's go to the temple," I said to Dhruva as we finally stepped into a taxi. But the driver refused.

"Is it dangerous to drive there?" I said.

"Not today," he replied. "But it's too far and I'm stopping work soon."

But neither Dhruva nor I wanted to wait on the street any longer. "Then take us to a
beautiful part of the city," I said.

The driver laughed. "There's not much beautiful about this city," he said.

"Well then," I said, "take us where the tourists go."

"What tourists?" he said.

So rather than try to go to the ISKCON temple for preaching and associating with devotees, this ISKCON sannyasi asks to go to the beautiful tourist areas in the city. Again, the fact that there is no hesitation on the part of Indradyumna Swami shows he has a lot of experience going to beautiful tourist places while he travels. Otherwise, how would that be his immediate next response.

At the conclusion of the diary entry, Indradyumna lets us all know what was the final lesson his dear disciple learned from him on the trip:

"Dhruva!" I said excitedly. "I just had an amazing dream. I dreamt we were on Harinama in a Muslim village. As we chanted through the village all the people came out of their houses to sing with us. They were singing 'Allah Akbar!' and we were singing 'Hare Krishna.' We all joined hands and danced together in bliss. It was so vivid!"

Dhruva looked at the tiger's tooth around my neck. "Guru Maharaja," he said, "that's exactly what the man said would happen if you wore that tiger's tooth. Just imagine if we'd been able to get the peacock feather, the coin, the deity of Ganesh, and the special pot that neutralizes poison."

Indradyumna had previously highlighted these magical items, all being sold by the "antique dealer", as follows:

"I can show you some unusual items," he said, "but I have to go home to get them. I don't keep them here."

"Like what kind of interesting things?" Dhruva asked.

"I have a centuries-old coin," he said. "If you put grains on it, they'll immediately disappear."

"Is that true?" Dhruva said.

"I also have a peacock feather that casts no shadow."

"Wow!" said Dhruva.

"I have a deity of Ganesh that doesn't appear in any photo you take of him."

"Really?" said Dhruva.

"And I have a pot that neutralizes poison."

"Neutralizes poison?" said Dhruva.

So in conclusion, the message we really get is this: "Geepers, if we had just managed to collect all the magical crap that the antique fellow was selling then our Krishna consciousness would be perfect!" That's the final conclusion we get from Indradyumna. The purpose of Krishna consciousness is to wander the globe like a hippy, going in search of talismans, magic beans and mystical pixie dust. This is the essence of Indradyumna's fabricated "diaries of a traveling preacher".

At the very beginning of his diary entry, he began by stating:

"Going to India is more of a necessity than a luxury for one in the renounced order of life."

What in his description is anything but a luxury? A rich, globe hopping American who roams like a hippy, living off the expense of foolish disciples, and squandering Srila Prabhupada's money for fancy illegal jewellery. All glories to Indradyumna Swami.

(Keywords: Hare Krishna, ISKCON, Indradyumna Swami)