Poor Dumbayanti!

United Kingdom

I am never going to live my last blog down. Not only did Sripad Akinchan Maharaj describe my deep and meaningful 'existential crisis' as "just a plain old run-of-the-mill, garden-variety, old fashioned case of the willies" but I now have to also deal with the endless teasing within my own family. After reading the latest Imonk update, my mother and sisters all had the same response: "You got told brother!"

I have a feeling that this is going to be one of those things that haunts me for the rest of my life. I've already had: "What's the matter Damayanti, having an existential crisis?"; "Go do some dishes and clean out the trash, that'll make you feel better"; "Oh come on honey, it's not that bad.", and possibly the worst, with only slightly ironic overtones: "Do you want some medicine or something?" What are families for, huh?

And when are people going to take me seriously?!

When I was at school, even if I was top of the class, getting straight A's and giving the most intelligent answers and asking the best questions, it didn't matter - I was 'Dumbayanti', 'Gullible', the one who always got the joke last, nice but dumb. Once, when I told one of my best friends my grades in the recent summer exams, her jaw dropped - "Oh, I didn't realize you were smart! Uh, I mean...."

Just a few weeks ago, one of my so-called trusted advisers looked at me in shock for a simple joke I didn't get ("You know, it used to be illegal to have white lines on the road in India"), shook his head and said something I'd already heard a million times before: "If you look 'Gullible' up in the dictionary, you'll find a picture of yourself."

And poor Mahananda Prabhu! Normally he appreciates my help in the office. But every so often, when he has had to explain a simple concept or process to me for about the tenth time without any success, will look at me and say in exasperation: "You are simple, aren't you?"

There are also the terrible conversational skills which I have inflicted on countless souls. Not only do I have an uncontrollable tendency to tune out of conversations at any given moment for unknown periods of time, which leaves me utterly incapable of giving an intelligible, intelligent response ("Um, yeah, I think so," gulp) but sometimes it all just becomes too much for me: I will grab onto the nearest life-boat, usually one of my long-suffering sisters and say in stage whisper: "What did he just say?"

My condition is even more pitiable when | try to explain something to someone else. After recently over-flooding young Nilamani Prabhu with a series of endless, confusing and unintelligible computer tips about using Adobe Photoshop and Dreamweaver, I think I only got the response I deserve: one email with a subject of ‘Hey Gullible’ and another that began ‘Dear Dumb Damayanti’. His brother, Shuggi, has just given up on me; after enduring one of my pathetic, rambling attempts at telling a story a few months ago, he simply said at the end of it: “Remind me not to talk to you anymore Damayanti.”

Poor Dumbayanti! Once Paramahamsa Maharaj said to me sympathetically: "Not 'Dumb –ayanti,' 'Cleva-yanti!' "

But I think he was just being nice....

Comments

[Devashis das]

Damayanti didi

Blogging is a pretty brave form of self expression in my opinion. I have been toying with the idea of starting a blog of my own recently. I was thinking of calling it "Confessions of a Reluctant Temple President" but that just conjured up images of some cheezy 1970's, saucy, made for tv, romp staring Robin Askwith and Roy Kinear! (you're probably too young to get that!).

Anyway what attracts me to blogging is that it is a way for basically shy but articulate people to express themselves and share their thoughts and feelings with others. (That is a purely personal idea as I'm sure many people who blog are extremely assertive and not in the least bit shy!) The downside is that as soon as you put anything into print you are openning yourself up to all kinds of reponses from "the good, the bad and the ugly". (Oh my God, and so am I just posting this response!!!)

Never the less what I have read so far of your blog is, in my humble opinion, full of sincerity and honesty. I think you also show the makings of a talented writer.

I try to remember and apply one advice from Srila Sridhar Maharaj in almost all things in life (and I think it applies perfectly to blogging) and that is "wait and see!". To me that means to resist the urge to make knee jerk responses to anything. Always consider everything very thoroughly and in a very measured way, especially before publishing anything. Try to be dispassionate when you write. I don't mean don't be passionate about your subject but I mean find your centre before you put fingers to keyboard. If you are excited (in the sense of angry, emotional, upset, etc) You will probably regret what you posted. Leave it until you are a little more objective and calm. Let the Force flow through you (oh sorry slipping into Jedi mode there for a moment!!!).

Anyway I think you understand what I am trying to say. Keep it up...

I am following your "Homeward journey" with interest. Just remember to put in a good word for this lost soul when you get there.

with much affection
Devashis das

[Satrughna das]

god damayanti. go ahead and tell the whole world how i tease you! i never said that either. well maybe i did but you know i was joking. i will see you in india. thats a country by the way. you know if you look at the ceiling it says gullible?
lots of love,
shuggie

[Kumkum dasi]

Dearest Damayanti,

With so much pride and pleasure I read your blogs, inspired by Spd Akinchan Maharaj and others. I've read all up to Heart of the heart now, and must say that you are in my heart, enlivening as can be! Many are called "dictionary definition of gullible"; well, now we are under divine protection from ignorance, if we want to be. You were "gullible" just to be soft enough to accept Sri Guru and Gouranga wholly. With your honest and sincere approach to Sri Guru, your success will be unbounded.

Can't wait to see you at the lotus feet, gal!

Love,
Kumkum