I have been alive for 36 Janmastamis.
I remember attending festivals in celebration of Krishna's Appearance Day as a child, running around in fancy clothing with my friends at night outside, thrilled to have the go-ahead once a year to stay up until midnight.
I remember dressing up to attend the festival throughout my teenage years, bubbling over with anticipation to see who would be coming (any cool girls and any cute guys??), and relishing the midnight feast.
I remember traveling the world and settling into a community in my adult life, experiencing Janmastami in places like Hawaii, England, Belgium, New York, and Florida; some of these festivals were attended by tens of thousands of people. I've performed in many dances and dramas, dressed up in gorgeous princess-like outfits, danced in many midnight kirtans, offered all kinds of services from decorating to cutting up vegetables, and received the most magnificent darshans of the deities of the Lord.
Today, I wore leggings and stayed home all day.
I asked Ghanashyam if he wanted to go to the temple, and he said gently, "Only if you're there,"
And so we took darshan of the deities with our 3-week-old son Arjuna in our arms, lying on the daybed in the nursery, using Ghanashyam's phone to stream the live webcast from our local temple. The images were somewhat grainy, but we oohed and aahed with wonder anyway.
Then later in the evening, Ghanashyam carried over the harmonium and a Krishna book and placed each on the daybed. I gently sang kirtan and Ghanashyam joined in while our little one laid down and played on his chest. Arjuna's wide eyes gazed at us and he stayed (mostly) still.
There we were, wearing t-shirts and leggings/pajamas at home, but we were singing the holy name and honoring the Lord. We smiled at each other, and my heart filled with a kind of golden joy.
I thought, well, this is our child's first Janmastami. This family is the adventure that Ghanashyam and I have chosen. Images of all those exotic and wondrous Janmastamis wheeled through my mind and I marveled at how this simple scene felt just as wondrous.
Then I held Arjuna in my arms and Ghanashyam read about the birth of Krishna from Krishna Book. His deep voice described how even though Krishna was born on the eighth day of the waning moon when really the moon should be rather obscure in the sky, nevertheless the moon rose full, just to honor the Lord. When he had finished reading, I said to Arjuna, "Well, my son, today is the birthday of your best friend. Krishna is Arjuna the supreme archer's best friend, and Krishna is personally your best friend, my little one, He is there in your heart."
Soon, our son will begin to experience his own panoply of Janmastamis throughout his life, maybe run around with his friends or perform in dramas or offer service, maybe travel the world and experience the thrill of a familiar tradition in an exotic place. But I pray that he may always know and understand that the moon of Lord Krishna may always be full within his heart, that even in the simplest of moments that Krishna is his best friend.
