KCD’S MONTHLY MISSIVES – AUGUST 2021

Video transcription:

Overcoming “ISKCON” Revisionism

By Kailäsa Candra däsa

First of a Two-Part Series

HARIÙ OÀ NAMAÙ

Embedded in most statements from “ISKCON” is propaganda loaded with diversions, euphemisms, and cognitive dissonance. When understood rightly, those public statements reveal the fraudulent nature of what the cult represents. Its assertions tend to be inherently deceitful, obscuring Reality. They are meant to override any person’s rational faculties, hampering his or her higher intelligence. Deceit is also embedded in the cult’s arguments.

“ISKCON” is an apa-sampradäya, one that has ceased to provide any genuine justification for its ongoing charade. Its claims of justification are all ultimately empty gestures; in effect, “ISKCON” is has become a kind of warped parody of itself. No serious transcendentalist believes in its pretexts or its pantomime. Its institutional gurus are subservient to the vitiated G.B.C., and the vibration from their presence in the world, what to speak of their imitation initiation ceremonies, are, in the final analysis, spiritually illegal.

“ISKCON” and the vitiated G.B.C., its power node, represent a spiritually lawless entity. Both violate the source code of their Articles and Charter, including the Commission’s own Direction of Management. “ISKCON” is a dangerous form of an oligarchy, but it effectively promotes irrational thrills in those unlucky enough to place their faith in it.

The presentations its representatives make–especially when speaking to justify their institution’s actions—are often chock full of historical revisionism. As far as revenge for personal affronts, thwarted ambition, and/or attempts to aggrandize partisan followers is concerned, some or all of those can be motivating principalities for such presentations. The cult’s first-echelon all must know by now that their so-called disciplic succession is a hoax, but they remain convinced that they can pull it off.

Which brings us to this month’s presentation. About forty-five days ago, your host speaker received an e-mail from a friend, who I had helped in the editing of one of his publications. He shot me off a hyperlink of an interview—loaded with historical revisionism—by a non-American (his English heavily spiked with a foreign accent) disciple of some sort of one of the first-echelon leaders of “ISKCON.”

It was conducted via what is called the GBCSPT Channel, which is, in some ways, similar to a ZOOM or a SKYPE hook-up on the INTERNET. It was the third installment of an ongoing multi-part series. The disciple, obviously a dedicated follower, was wearing tiläka. Such is not discernible on the forehead and nose of the speaker—at least, I could not make out any tiläka on him. The title of this video is: “Did the Zonal acharyas Eclipse the G.B.C.?” It runs for just short of seventeen minutes over an hour.

The well-known sannyäsé being interviewed was one of the zonal acharyas from back in the day. He can be belligerent in his verbal delivery, and he remains influential in “ISKCON.” He is a very intelligent man, however, and can be quite convincing. My friend requested me as follows: “I would love to hear your commentary on this video.”

Please understand that I never go out of the way to subject my astral quantum to listening to and/or watching “ISKCON” regurgitate its interpretation of that cult’s history. I avoid having to endure such psychic pollution, which I find disgusting. Yet, the request was made, so I was forced to consider as to whether or not to fulfill it.

I began to listen to the propaganda spouted by the former zonal. Most unpleasant! Flaws and deceit, along with rationalizations and misinterpretations, rang into my ears. The first time into it, I could only get through less than one quarter of the session before I had to exit out. I chewed on the request. With significant hesitancy, I decided to take the challenge and fulfill the request.

The Commentator will be referred to either as The Swämi or more specifically as Acharya . . . Dave, which is not inappropriate. Many of you will know why, although I choose not to spell that out here at this time. The Interviewer will be referred to as The Interviewer. His questions will be quoted directly only once; otherwise, they will be entirely paraphrased. The responses of The Swämi will also often be paraphrased, although he will also be quoted verbatim regularly, as well.

I shall quote or paraphrase the Swämi accurately but not go out of my way to meticulously regurgitate all of his historical revisionism. Next month, I shall treat the remaining topics covered in the hyperlink even more objectively, as those opinions and revisions from the second half of the tape are mostly well-worn illusions in “ISKCON.”

In the introductory phase, The Interviewer gushes over his opportunity to interview the Swämi. This mood on his part is challenged as the interview proceeds, however. Indeed, The Swämi later becomes quite vexed by how The Interviewer presents a delayed question via a power-point introductory set of photos. That section is more than a bit cringe-worthy.

The Interviewer is obviously adept at the medium, but The Swämi wants this interview to be conducted to suit his points. This becomes crystal clear when they butt heads less than one-half into the presentation. However, previous to this, The Interviewer shifts from a screen where you only see him (either glorifying The Swämi or tossing out a softball), to a split screen or to a screen where The Swämi is alone making his reply. There is a kind of amusingly annoying element to all of this; indeed, at one point, The Swämi playfully says to him: “You don’t have to keep disappearing.”

The Interviewer describes The Swämi by employing accolades—or what he considers to be accolades—during the introductory phase. One of these is a glorification of him as the man chosen to finish commenting on Çrémad-Bhägavatam, which consists of twelve cantos. He was not chosen by Prabhupäda, however; instead, he was chosen by the vitiated G.B.C. in 1979. Most of you know that Prabhupäda only completed purports up through the first few chapters of Canto Ten of The Bhägavat.

The real history of how The Swämi scored that commentary is not touched upon whatsoever; indeed, it is likely that The Interviewer is not even aware of it, but all of you should now become aware of it. The Swämi was not selected by Çréla Prabhupäda to complete the commentary. Another man, Pradyumna prabhu, affectionately known by Prabhupäda via the nickname “Pandit-jé,” had actually been chosen.

The vitiated G.B.C. stole this seva from Pradyumna in the winter of 1979 and gave it to The Swämi. It was taken away from Pradyumna for very dubious—and, ultimately unjustified—reasons. It is a long story, and we cannot divert into all of that. However, many years later, the G.B.C. apologized to Pradyumna for how he was treated by the Commish and the zonals in the late Seventies. The Swämi’s capture of the commentary was facilitated under shady, institutional circumstances.

Returning to the various screens, there was a laughable and revealing moment when The Interviewer apologizes to The Swämi for keeping the split screen up while he, The Swämi, is speaking. The Swämi then forgives him, telling him that it’s alright, as if such forgiveness is a demonstration of magnanimity on his part. In this way, the not-so-subtle control that The Swämi holds over The Interviewer is made apparent to any objective viewer. The Interviewer then states:

“In July, 1977, Çréla Prabhupäda selected eleven members of the G.B.C. to begin acting at once as officiating gurus. . . Thus, the G.B.C. understood Çréla Prabhupäda to have chosen the first initiating gurus to succeed him. After Çréla Prabhupäda’s demise in November, 1977, those eleven members quickly became elevated in an extraordinary way above all other devotees in the movement, (including) their colleagues in the G.B.C..”

Although, technically, The Interviewer is reading an excerpt from Ravindra Svarüpa’s position paper of 1994–entitled “Cleaning House and Cleaning Hearts”–he is not at all in disagreement with it. It is integral to his power point presentation. The statement is loaded with defects, but these are not discussed, because The Interviewer does not see any of it as a flawed presentation of ISKCON history.

Your host speaker clearly sees it as such. Converting officiating acharyas to initiating gurus is an obvious pre-supposition. It has no support anywhere from His Divine Grace, although he could have easily verified such a concept during the five months he remained physically manifest after the final appointment of rittviks in 1977.

They are called “the first initiating gurus to succeed him. “The quotation is also calling them successors, as was Ravindra in the above-mentioned position paper that was being quoted. Regular gurus do not succeed the Sampradäya Acharya. They carry on the line, but only an uttama-adhikäré can ever be considered a true Successor.

“They were elevated in an extraordinary way.”

No, they weren’t. They were elevated by vitiated G.B.C. resolution, and there is nothing extraordinary about that, particularly since the whole scam was an imposition. The Swämi makes no attempt to correct the pre-supposition, in no small part because it is integral to his historical revisionism. Virtually everybody in his cult believes it.

The connective tissue between the appointment of rittviks and the cult empowerment of eleven men as so-called mahäbhägavats is either very weak or non-existent. There is no direct evidence of it. Prabhupäda could have confirmed it at any time during his final months with us, but he did not. Over and above that, Prabhupäda need not have appointed rittviks at all. If those eleven men were gurus, he could have—and, just as importantly, would have—recognized them as such. He didn’t.

Now, if you take recourse of what can be called “the etiquette argument,” guess again! His Divine Grace WANTED his disciples to become initiating spiritual masters DURING his lifetime. This was verified beyond doubt by the following excerpt in a letter to Hansadutta, dated 1-3-69:

“I want that all of my spiritual sons and daughters will inherit this title of Bhaktivedänta, so that the family transcendental diploma will continue through the generations. . . Maybe by 1975, all of my disciples will be allowed to initiate and increase the numbers of the generations.”

A mere nine days later, an almost identical excerpt was included in a letter to Kirtanänanda. Prabhupäda wanted his disciples to initiate while he was physically manifest. In point of fact, in the letter to Hansadutta, he added, “That is my program.” And he was still present in 1975, which solidifies this conclusion. The standard etiquette of the disciple not initiating while the guru is still physically manifest is overridden if the guru decides to override it. In these excerpts, he indicated he wanted to do that.

As such, if there were any regular gurus present in 1977, he could have and would have recognized them, and there would have been no reason or need to appoint rittviks. He appointed rittviks, because that’s the only material had he available to him at that time.

Nowhere will you find Prabhupäda OFFICIALLY recognizing anyone as a regular dékñä-guru. There is nowhere to be found Prabhupäda stating that the rittviks he appointed in the summer of 1977 would automatically become initiating spiritual masters after he left the scene. That would have been the bare minimum requirement for legitimacy.

Continuing with the audio/video (but still in the beginning stages of it), The Swämi is asked about The Acharya Board. After all, the title of the presentation requires that the status of the Acharya Board would have to be discussed. He gets quite animated when answering this query. The gist of his answer is that The Acharya Board had no power over the G.B.C., and it did not make any decisions separate from it.

However, this conclusion is belied by the facts. We find the following G.B.C. resolution, dated March 19, 1978:

“Resolution #16: The G.B.C. will consider each year at Goor Purnima the appointment of new Spiritual Masters to be approved by a ¾ vote.”

Two days later, this resolution was completely overridden. On March 21, 1978, we find the following G.B.C. Resolution:

“A G.B.C. committee will be formed consisting of G.B.C. members who are initiating Gurus. They will choose new gurus once per year in Mayapur. This is an amendment to resolution #16 of March 19.”

It was a short but comprehensive amendment, because it changed Resolution #16. In effect, it replaced it with an entirely new method of selecting or appointing institutional gurus in “ISKCON.” It amounted to nothing less than a one-eighty. The Acharya Board now had all the power to appoint new gurus, and, of course, for many years, it refused to do so.

How can “ISKCON” get away with claiming that the Acharya Board was ineffectual and meaningless? In effect, this is the claim made by The Swämi. Such a false claim is made today by that cult’s leaders—including at least one who was on the Acharya Board–in order to minimize that egregious deviation of a special board created within the governing board.

The seed of the idea was, also in 1978, planted by Swämi B. R. Çrédhar, when he opined that the non-guru section of the governing body can never question or judge its guru section. The Navadvipa mahant was responsible for planting the seed that the appointment of rittviks meant the de facto, future appointment of dékñä-gurus, when he also opined:

“Rittvik acharya, then it becomes as good as acharya.”

Beyond the obvious fact that the members of the Acharya Board constituted a domineering voting bloc that was far more influential and powerful than all of the rest of the commissioners combined, the assertion that the Acharya Board was inconsequential is just more historical revisionism. In this case, it is being made by a first-echelon representative of “ISKCON,” as per The Swämi (and over four decades after the fact!). The amended Resolution of March 21, 1978 flies in the face of his false claim. The bottom line is that it was and is just another rationalization employed for damage control.

In point of fact, the historical revisionism he engaged in during this session with an admirer contains myths, beginning with the myth that mere rittviks automatically were to make a metamorphosis into initiating spiritual masters after the disappearance of Çréla Prabhupäda.

And let us not forget that all eleven of those rittviks—after pulling the wool over the eyes of practically the whole movement with an appointment that never was—took mahäbhägavat worship from high vyäsäsans (which rivaled Prabhupäda’s in both height and opulence) throughout most of the movement’s temple rooms. Would a regular guru do that? Would he take worship on such an elevated seat in front of installed, open Deities?

Once again, this is but more evidence that the appointment of rittviks in July, 1977 did NOT covertly amount to a delayed appointment of dékñä-gurus ten months later. Others have also noticed this fact.

TATTVAMASI

In the above-mentioned position paper of 1994, Ravindra Svarüpa objected to the Acharya Board, and rightfully so. Ravindra may not have done so specifically in his more powerful position papers of the mid-Eighties—which, in no small part, led to the opulent pseudo-vyäsäsans being removed from all of the temples—but he really did not have to. Ocean’s Eleven were cratering by that time, as five of those men were exposed to be engaged in illicit sexual connections with their disciples–two of the homosexual variety.

Yet, The Swämi criticizes Ravindra Svarüpa for his correct perspective of the Acharya Board, emphasizing that Ravindra was not present during the G.B.C. meetings. In particular, The Swämi brings up an ad hoc emergency meeting held in his house in Southern California in 1980. Three of the pretender mahäbhägavats were, by that time, creating scandals. However, did the whole G.B.C. body attend that emergency meeting? It is not made clear in this taped session under analysis, but the question may be justly raised.

Previous to that, two of the “new gurus” took actions which revealed that they did not believe that they should be worshiped in the way prescribed by Swämi B. R. Çrédhar (“mat guru si jagat guru”). That program was, as we all know, rubber-stamped by the vitiated G.B.C. in 1978. The new guru of SoCal removed his vyäsäsan from the L.A. temple room after he was dressed down and read the riot act by a senior, female devotee. The new guru of Germany, while being worshiped, hastily jumped down from his so-called vyäsäsan and fled to the privacy of his room, realizing just how offensive the whole pretense was.

Yet, decades later, we are to believe, based on The Swämi’s insistent and vituperative recollection, that The Acharya Board never had any power, and the paper written by Ravindra was flawed, in part because he did not attend any of the vitiated G.B.C. meetings. The Swämi’s quote is as follows:

“Ravindra Svarüpa prabhu builds his case on something that was never put into practice, and in the case of choosing gurus and disciplining gurus, that was only done by the plenary G.B.C. body.”

What does he mean when he throws the adjective “plenary” in there? He goes on to insist the following about that Amendment of March 21^st, 1978, which empowered the Acharya Board to appoint gurus:

“It was never followed.”

Thus Spake Acharya . . . Dave.

So what if, TECHNICALLY, it was never followed! He is making a mountain out of a molehill! It was FORMALLY RESOLVED, and, as aforementioned, in practical terms, it played out de facto as a result. Why? Because those eleven men, especially in the late Seventies, had, at bare minimum, at least eighty percent of the power of the governing body. Although, technically, most of the G.B.C. members at that time were not gurus, almost half of the body was a voting member of the Acharya Board.

Now, over four decades later, we are to put stock into The Swämi’s assertion that the Acharya Board had no actionable power? No sane, serious, and sincere transcendentalist will do so.

Did the zonal acharyas eclipse the whole G.B.C. body? Certainly, unless you are gullible enough to buy into The Swämi’s spin. And let us not forget that he has a vested interest in promoting such historical revisionism, as the ACTUAL HISTORY will not look kindly upon him . . . especially since he was, like Swämi B. R. Çrédhar, behind the whole thing, despite his rationalizations.

Let us now segue to those denials that he wanted to be a big guru (as he describes it), his denial that he ever wanted to be opulently worshiped on a high seat and accorded a special zone, etc. These denials all hinge on the excuse that he was, in effect, forced by his godbrothers to take all of that opulent worship. If he was a genuine guru—and a regular guru is a genuine guru–who could have forced him to do anything?

Often embedded in “ISKCON” statements for public consumption is propaganda containing no shortage of diversions. That is certainly present in the session we are now analyzing. The chief issue here centers around why they pretended to be, in the term used by The Swämi, “big gurus.” He contends that all of his godbrothers, particularly at the temple president level, insisted that he act as such. Consider these three quotes:

“I didn’t feel qualified to do it.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for this. I don’t think I’m ready to be a big guru.”

“I would like to take a year . . . to make some spiritual advancement.”

In connection to Gouòéya Mutt laying in the weeds, waiting to strike, and his godbrothers insisting he take an extreme step to prevent that, The Swämi says:

“If you don’t do this, we will be lost.”

“If you don’t, our movement is going to be destroyed in Latin America, because of what the Gouòéya Mutt is doing.”

He is contending all of this now. Very convenient, but that abuse of power was actuated despite plenty of hints, events, proposed resolutions, and facts that it should never have transpired in the first place.

When it really mattered, why didn’t he act on his alleged conscience at that time? Very convenient now to say that he thought like this, but his actions at that time did not demonstrate any of these sentiments to the devotees in general. He says he wanted to wait before doing it, but Svarüpa Dämodar proposed just such a waiting period resolution in the 1978 G.B.C. meeting. There is no evidence that The Swämi voted for that proposal.

Or has all of this been conveniently obscured in order to lay down markers for damage control? It is more than a bit disconcerting that we are being asked to swallow all of this now. Over and above that, did what those eleven pretenders enact actually prevent what it was meant to prevent?

Did the zonal acharya scam actually erect an effective wall against Gouòéya Mutt influence? The answer must be a resounding NO! Indeed, it was Gouòéya Mutt influence, through the personality of Swämi B. R. Çrédhar, that suggested the zonal concoction in the first place. And that’s what the leaders of so-called “ISKCON” did, led by the eleven men who benefited most from it.

Leaders of “ISKCON” consulted Swämi B. R. Çrédhar in the late Seventies, and, to a significantly lesser extent, Swämi Näräyan of Keçava-jé Gouòéya Mutt in Mathurä. For the record, he expressed deep skepticism of the high seats and opulent worship, but they did not heed his advice concerning that. Instead, they heeded the advice of the Navadvipa mahant, who told them that the faith of their disciples could never become strong unless they believed, in the words of Swämi B. R. Çrédhar, mat guru si jagat guru.

However, that was neither Prabhupäda’s teaching nor his essential instruction: “When I order you become guru, he becomes regular guru, that’s all.”

A regular guru is a madhyam adhikäré previous to rägänuga. He is not entitled to imitate the mahäbhägavat. He is enjoined not to imitate! Why could not the G.B.C. in 1978 have heeded the Founder’s directive? The movement would have held together much better than it did–even in the short-term.

Prabhupäda’s order contradicted the worn Bengali clichÊ of mat guru si jagat guru, but Prabhupäda was overridden and Swämi B. R. Çrédhar was accepted. This idea that The Swämi had to imitate mahäbhägavat (like the other ten little Indian boys) in order to prevent Gouòéya Mutt influence does not ring true.

Swämi B. R. Çrédhar said: “Rittvik-acharya, then it becomes as good as acharya.” They bought into that, in no small part, because that was T.K.G.’s vision of the rittviks from July, 1977 onward. However, Swämi B. R. Çrédhar’s seal of approval of that idea—based entirely upon a faulty pre-supposition never supported by a statement from Prabhupäda—proved, beyond doubt, that Gouòéya Mutt influence was not only entering his movement, but, from March of 1978 (until The Great Schism of the early Eighties), it was controlling it!

Imitation was also introduced by Gouòéya Mutt in the form of the Navadvipa mahant: “Just put on the uniform, and you will become the soldier.” However, Prabhupäda came down hard on imitation constantly in his writings. Gouòéya Mutt influence was fully in the ascendant in “ISKCON” in the late Seventies. It was substantially responsible for ruining Prabhupäda’s branch of Lord Caitanya’s tree of devotion.

The argument that the zonal acharya scam, in all its glory, was the only way to prevent Gouòéya Mutt from sinking the movement does not hold water. It is historical revisionism, because the exact opposite is the truth.

Then, there is The Swämi’s weak rationalizations, utilizing the excuse that his godbrothers, particularly some temple presidents in his zone, if effect forced him to sit on a high seat and take opulent uttama-adhikäré worship from everyone in those temples. This included many, if not most, of his godbrothers and godsisters (your host speaker certainly not included).

There was no excuse for any of the eleven, especially The Swämi, indulging in that kind of egregious extravagance. None whatsoever. It did not accomplish its so-called intended goal. Instead, it created an atmosphere of fanaticism, opposition, and contentiousness. It degraded all who engaged in it. These negative developments could also be seen very early on.

And we must remember that all eleven of those great pretenders were governing body commissioners. They enjoyed a great deal of power and many perks in that position. Did they pay the price for all of that? The price was that they were to guide the movement in the right way.

Instead, they guided it straight into the craphole! They took so many benefits, but they were also supposed to know what to do when Prabhupäda departed. They were to take HIS advice, directives and orders.

They were present for that all-important meeting in his quarters in the last week of May, 1977. That’s when he said: “Regular guru, that’s all.” Why did not at least one of them follow up and inquire as to what he meant by that? Why did they all buy into the pre-supposition that a rittvik-acharya becomes a full-fledged dékñä-guru when the Founder leaves physical manifestation? Why was not Prabhupäda consulted about all of this by at least one of them? Why did they buy into all that very bad advice from Swämi B. R. Çrédhar?

Simply put: THEY DIDN’T DO THE JOB!

And that certainly includes The Swämi. He was rumored to have a great deal of transcendental intelligence. By his own admission, he preferred to be a scholar rather than a guru. So, why did he fall for all of the aforementioned nescience so easily? Why did he not protect the devotees of lesser intelligence?

You cannot say that he was not warned. According to Henry Doktorski in his book Eleven Naked Emperors, he was warned very specifically, but went against those warnings. According to that book, Svarüpa Dämodar Swämi suggested that they all wait five years before acting as guru. He offered this resolution during the fateful 1978 G.B.C. meeting. It was voted down unanimously.

According to another excerpt from the book, The Swämi was warned by Harikeça Swämi, who rightly stated that Swämi B. R. Çrédhar had a history of being a Mutt-breaker, and that ISKCON should not risk consulting him. It was a great risk, and the movement was devastated after those headstrong men took it. Harikeça’s resolution was voted down unanimously, also.

As such, The Swämi now insisting that his intentions were all good–that he did not want to do what he ended up doing–reminds us of that culminating scene in “Quiz Show” where the Senators are taking a statement from Van Doren as to why he went along with the whole pretense during his stint as a winning contestant on the game show called “21.”

Charles Van Doren had been fed the questions and answers in advance by the game show in order to keep him returning each week. He was popular with the viewing audience, and the network wanted those eyeballs for its advertisers. This was eventually exposed, and Congress convened a hearing on it. Van Doren gave a soul-searing apology to Congress, and it swayed all the Senators . . . as it turned out, all but one of them. Two or three Senators began praising Van Doren, a tenured teacher at Columbia, for the sincerity of his apology.

Then came a hard-nosed Senator, who, after offering a line of feint praise to Van Doren, brought everyone back to the real issue: Van Doren had willingly cooperated with a cheating scheme that was meant to deceive the television viewing audience. The whole mood of the hearing, and the substantial audience attending the hearing, then changed dramatically.

They all realized that the issue was not Van Doren’s display of an honest admission about what he had foolishly done. The real issue was the cheating that he had gone along with and had, both financially and in terms of his American popularity, benefited from for many months as a result.

The analogy of this specific scene from “Quiz Show” completely applies to how we should view The Swämi’s explanations of why and how he became a big guru–one with his own praëam mantra, with his own title, with the facility (which he took) to sit on opulent seats in temple rooms across the world in front of the Deities. One with how he took worship from foolish newcomers, as well as from his own godbrothers and godsisters.

He actually does not apologize for anything in this session under analysis. He gives his explanation of why and how the zonal acharya scam went down and how he was entangled in it, although, allegedly, he never wanted to be a part of it. It’s all a diversion. He does not ask for forgiveness, but he palms it off on some of the other eleven in the following way:

“There were others of the eleven who were very ambitious. I know that. And there were others of the eleven who were ambitious, and who imposed themselves even on their godbrothers and godsisters, who were uncomfortable but forced it on them . . . this was the abuse that took place.”

Thus Spake Acharya . . . Dave.

Dave . . . what are you doing, Dave?

In the Spring of 1978, the rank-and-file of the Hare Kåñëa movement of Kåñëa consciousness—the branch of it founded by His Divine Grace Çréla Prabhupäda twelve years previously—underwent a massive subversion. The vast majority of its members were thrown into cognitive dissonance. The Swämi was integral to that negative development. He did nothing of consequence to prevent it, and he directly participated as one of the eleven pretender zonal acharyas.

In the second of this two-part series, we shall deconstruct the remaining last half of that mäyikä interview. In it, the Swämi pulls out what appears to be a trump card from the bottom of his deck, but we shall show what that canard really is: Nothing but a Joker. Wait for it.

SAD EVA SAUMYA