SHYAMDAS 1953-2013 IN MEMORIAM

the West and was one of the first (if not the first) kirtan wallahs
to be showcased in yoga studios in America in the 1990s,
beginning with the Jivamukti Yoga Center run by Sharon
Gannon and David Life in New York City.
Jai Uttal, the influential kirtan artist, is a longtime friend
of Shyamdas and tells a funny story about their time together
in those days. Jai was living in Berkeley, California, and was a
well-known and busy musician with a host of responsibilities.
Shyamdas would often drop by unannounced (sometimes
more than once a day) and just want to hang out and chat and
share stories and do kirtan, and Jai would be trying to politely
get him to leave. But Shyamdas would say, “I’m not leaving
until we sing Hari’s name together.” And he would practically
force Jai to drop whatever plans he had and sit and sing with
him or he would refuse to leave. Once they finished chanting,
Shyam would leave happily.
I asked Satyaraja Dasa about his relationship with Shyamdas
and why he thought the beloved chanter was important to
the modern kirtan scene. Here's what he said:
"Shyamdas was in a unique position to bring spiritual
practitioners – especially in the modern yoga community –
to the next step. You see, he was a disciple of the spiritual
luminary Neem Karoli Baba, and he was also a disciple of
Goswami Prathmeshji of the Vallabha Sampradaya, a legitimate
Vaishnava lineage. Because of this, he was able to
serve as a bridge, linking practitioners from the two traditions
– this has proven to be beneficial for both. In addition,
I would say that Shyamdas served the contemporary
yoga world by conveying true jnana, i.e., knowledge, from
a bona fide source. His bhakti-infused pronouncements
were always rich with traditional commentary and insight.
Indeed, he was a scholar of numerous Indic languages and
he used that scholarship to good effect. But he was not
merely a scholar; he was a consummate practitioner, and
a jokester too. In fact, these latter qualities speak to why
he will be so missed. It's why I miss him. I can say that
for certain. His heart was full of joy, and this, more than
anything else, came out in his kirtan. This joy, or ananda,
is a gift from God, as was Shyamdas himself. He was a gift
from above, no doubt, and I miss him already, more than
words can say."
In my experience, Shyamdas was a source of incredible
encouragement and enthusiasm. He would often
shower me and our kirtan groups with praise. He commented
that he liked the way we presented the philosophy and
culture of sacred India in an accessible way, while still keeping
the essence. We would often stay up with him late into
the night long after the festival attendees had gone to bed
discussing and even debating ideas and sharing realizations
and aspirations. We shared about our tradition and teachers
and he shared about his studies and translations. He urged
us to think deeply about everything we said and did.
In my heart and mind Shyamdas is an uncle and friend, a
mentor and champion in the mission of spreading the Holy
Name. His companionship will be sorely missed. I am hon-
10 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
ored though to continue this seva in his absence. There is
a famous poem about the passing of devotees by Bhaktivinoda
Thakur, that hasn’t left my mind since I heard the
tragic news.
He reasons ill who says that devotees die,
When thou art living still in Sound!
The devotees die to live and living try,
To spread the holy life around!
Below are some specifics about Shyamdas’s passing,
written by his friend Mohan Baba:
“Farewell Shyam Das Ji
In the early hours of January 20, 2013, we lost our dearest
Shri Shyamdasji. Born Stephen Schaffer in Connecticut,
USA, Shyamdasji passed away at the Vrindavan Hospital in
Mapusa, North Goa, India following a tragic motorcycle
accident on a winding, hilly road near the Goa-Maharashtra
border. He was 21 days shy of his 60th birthday. His
companion, Allyson Kreim, riding with him on the back of
the motorcycle, sustained serious but thankfully not critical
injuries. She was released from the hospital after a few
days, has loving support of her family and many friends,
and will make a full recovery. Shyamdasji was a shining
light for all of us, and we deeply mourn his passing. We
mourn because we have lost one of the greatest Western
scholar-practitioners of Sri Vallabhacharya’s Pushti Marg
(Path of Grace). We mourn because he authored and translated
so many beautiful and profound books, making available
to the English-speaking world the sublime teachings
of Shuddha Advaita in which Krishna himself is seen as everything,
everywhere, and in everyone! We mourn because
Shyamdasji was a master and lover of the divine language of
Sanskrit, as well as Vrajbhasha, Hindi, and other regional
languages. We mourn because of the many books that most
certainly would have continued to come from the pen of
his bhakti-filled hands. We mourn because Shyamdasji was
a gifted kirtan singer, whose performances and recordings
were so filled with love and joy. We mourn because of the
ecstatic music he would have continued to make to uplift
and inspire so many people, bringing them closer to the
divine. But perhaps most of all, we mourn his loss because
of what he taught us about bhakti – what it really means to
love God with unswerving devotion every day, every week,
every year, every decade. Writing about God, talking about
God, singing about God, reveling in God, and doing God’s
seva (devotional service) was the joy and the calling of Shyamdasji's
life. He was what is known as an ananya bhakta,
“one who has exclusive devotion to God alone.” He was
a powerhouse reveling in the divine play that is Krishna’s
Lila. He could not be pried away. On the very day that
Shyamdasji left behind his mortal form (at the Vrindavan
Hospital, of course), he was teaching a Sanskrit text to a
small group, repeating the refrain over and over again as
it appears in the text: Krishna eva gatir mama – Krishna
alone is where I am going; he is my only support, my only ref-