SHYAMDAS 1953-2013 IN MEMORIAM

NĀMA & RŪPA
VALLABHDAS
SHYAMDAS'S STUDENT AND FRIEND
Nāma and Rūpa, the name and form of the Divine,
were the absolute essence of life for my best friend, mentor,
and elder guru-brother Shyamdasji. He loved contributing
to this journal for that reason, and also out of his deep
dharmic connection and friendship with its co-founder Yogi
Eddie, as Shyamdas affectionately called him. Eddie-ji had
facilitated his first contacts with the yoga movement in the
U.S., where Shyamdasji was to dedicate his life to sharing the
sacred name, in ecstatic kirtans we will miss so much, along
with rare poetry and teachings on the Lord’s form, which he
inspired us to crave.
One aspect of Shyamdasji’s spiritual prowess perhaps not
immediately evident from attending his kirtan programs, in
which he shone as a divinely inspired speaker and singer, was
his astounding listening abilities (though in fact he was carefully
listening to each of us even while singing kirtan). How
had he garnered all of the devotional jewels, the teachings on
name and form which he shared with us? By sitting at the
feet of bhakti masters, humbly hanging on their every word,
insightfully interjecting questions that illuminated and advanced
the flow of wisdom and devotion.
I came into his life very late, but even at that point, after
over thirty years of devotional explorations and extensive
teaching, he was still constantly in search of every last opportunity
to sit at the feet of famous and totally unknown saints,
village practitioners, teachers and followers from any and every
lineage. He listened intently to all, eliciting, absorbing and
even subtly enhancing their teachings. As our guru Goswami
Shri Milan Baba now reflects, “When speaking with Shyamdasji
and addressing his poignant questions, often teachings
and answers of which I was not even aware would somehow
emerge from me. Shyamdasji had such a gift of penetrating,
insightful satsang.”
It was primarily through listening – though he would become
a voracious reader as well – that Shyamdasji developed
his astounding knowledge of the languages of devotion, wisdom,
and satsang: Brajbhasha, Sanskrit, Hindi, and Gujarati.
He told me of his early days in residence at the town
of Jatipura by the Govardhan Hill, when he used to literally
run to have satsang every night with two learned bhaktas.
Shyamdasji would sit on the cot between the two wise men,
listening intently as they discussed the sacred texts which he
12 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
himself would later painstakingly translate into English for
us. One night during his race to satsang, a dog jumped out
and grabbed hold of Shyamdasji’s dhoti, ripping it in half! He
continued running and attended the evening satsang in his
torn dhoti.
Shyamdasji was never one to slow down, especially not
when there was darshan or satsang to be had. I could never
quite keep up with him but loved trying. Whether it was on
our walks around the Govardhan Hill, through the upstate
New York woods, or getting ready to race out of the house for
the next kirtan program, I tended to lag behind. Eventually
he grew fond of calling out, “Where’s Vallabh?” This joke, like
his others, was actually a subtle devotional teaching – he was
furthering the divine search with the question, “Where is the
Beloved?” My only consolation through these tears is that I
feel, with more certainty than I have ever felt about anything,
that Shyamdasji has found his eternal Beloved.
In hindsight there seems to have been subtle awareness
on Shyamdasji’s part that his time on this earth was winding
down, whether evidenced in email correspondences like,
“Turning 60 soon, and into the beyond,” in uniquely deep
and tearful last goodbyes with loved ones, or the final reconciliation
and reunion with his son in November. My own
last parting with him was very different than the hundreds
preceeding it. For the first time I can remember, he sat silently
next to me in our Krishna temple that evening for the five or
ten additional minutes it always took me to finish the evening
seva. When it came time for me to leave, we embraced, with
none of our customary banter or discussion of details, this
time both of us holding back tears, able only to utter one
last praise of our Beloved Lord’s name and form: “Jai Shri
Krishna.”
Though his physical presence is sorely missed, Shyamdasji’s
unending contributions to our lives remain, in the spirit of
gathering, sharing and relishing wisdom teachings such as
those offered by Nāmarūpa.
"Jai Shri Krishna,
What a lila! To my entire family as well as to my circle
of Satsang friends and teachers: it was an honor to have
been a part of it. Know that the soul is eternal and plays
onwards, always reaching for the Beloved."
—from the Last Will and Testament of Shyamdasji