I’ve been sitting here for hours. It’s a funeral; my friend died. At uncertain intervals people get off their plastic chairs, fine tune their careful solemnity, and walk slowly to the coffin. The coffin perplexes me. See, this is my first funeral and I’m still trying to figure things out. My friend is gone

Yeah, it is pretty dumb to get born and die over and over again. But sometimes desires and dreams overthrow our better judgment and we do dumb things. That’s basically how we got involved in this cycle of birth and death to begin with.

If I have to make myself an individual, then I must not be an individual to begin with. I must be some kind of blank slate who has to go out and buy my personhood and wear my “individuality.”
You’ve turned individuality into something bought from thrift stores and hair salons.

The show is finished, and the equipment is loaded. The van sits before the front door, and I sit inside the van. It is cold and windy on the German shore. Three guys approach—young, clean cut & straight-edged. They want to do an interview… “I don’t need Krishna,” says the spokesman, with an unforgettable German accent. “I have my own way.”

The singing is accompanied by musical instruments and rhythmic drumming. The audience is encouraged to participate by chanting, clapping and even dancing. It is hard to resist the urge to join in! In its heartfelt expression, kirtan can induce profound states of meditation, bliss, and ecstasy.