Diary of a Traveling Monk
VOLUME 15
“May Mother Ganges Bless You Today”
February 26, 2019
Ever since becoming a devotee of Lord Krishna in 1970, I have been fascinated with the Kumbha Mela festival. This year I decided to join millions of other pilgrims in the journey to the Ardha Kumbha Mela where, from January 15th to March 4th, ISKCON devotees were to follow in Srila Prabhupada’s footsteps by bringing his books, the Holy Names and prasadam to the festival.
Kumbha Mela is the largest religious gathering in the world. Estimates anticipated that 120 million pilgrims—nearly double the population of England and France combined—would visit the Mela over seven weeks. The Mela takes place four times within a twelve-year period on the banks of four of India’s most holy rivers: the Godavari River in Nashik, the Shipra River in Ujjain, the Ganges River in Haridwar and the confluence of the Ganges, Yamuna, and Saraswati Rivers in Prayagraj (formerly known as Prayaga ).
This year’s Mela was to be held at the confluence site at Prayagraj. The point of convergence is called “Triveni Sangam.” Bathing in any of the sacred rivers has a purifying effect, but it is said that the purification is increased a hundred times at the sangam and a thousand times at the sangam during Kumbha Mela.
Srila Prabhupada writes:
“Bathing during the month of Magha at the Magha-Mela [Kumbha Mela] still takes place. This is a very old Mela (assembly), dating from time immemorial. It is said that ever since the Lord in the form of Mohini took a bucket of nectar and kept it at Prayaga, holy men have gathered there every year and observed the Magha-Mela. Every twelfth year there is a Kumbha-Mela, a great festival, and all the holy men from all over India assemble there. Bathing at the confluence of the Ganges and Yamuna, near the fort at Allahabad (Prayaga), is mentioned in the revealed scriptures:
“maghe masi gamisyanti ganga yamuna sangamam
gavam sata sahasrasya samyag dattam ca yat phalam
prayage magha mase vai try aham snatasya tat phalam
“If one goes to Prayaga and bathes at the confluence of the Ganges and Yamuna in the month of Magha, he attains the result of giving hundreds and thousands of cows in charity. Simply by bathing for three days there, he attains the results of such a pious activity.”
[ Caitanya Caritamrita, Madhya 18.145 ]
I had a special desire to attend Kumbha Mela this year as the main bathing day, February 4th, was on Mauni Amavasya, which creates a special tithi that appears only once every 200 years. However, my main motivation to go was to meet with the holy men Srila Prabhupada describes in his above purport, and to share with them the glories of Lord Caitanya and His movement of chanting the holy names which He inaugurated just over 500 years ago. My experience in India is that most people are aware of the 10 primary incarnations of the Lord—the das avatars such as Lord Ramacandra, Varaha, Kurma, Matsya and so on. But very few are aware of the avatar of this age, Lord Caitanya, whose appearance is predicted in ancient scriptures like Srimad Bhagavatam:
krsna varnam tvisakrsnam
sanopangastra parsadam
yajnaih sankirtana prayair
yajanti hi su medhasah
“In the Age of Kali, intelligent persons perform congregational chanting to worship the incarnation of Godhead who constantly sings the names of Krsna. Although His complexion is not blackish, He is Krsna Himself. He is accompanied by His associates, servants, weapons and confidential companions.”
[ Srimad Bhagavatam 11.5.32 ]
The origin of Kumbha Mela is mentioned in the Vedic scriptures. It is stated that in bygone ages, the demigods and demons assembled together to churn the ocean of milk to produce the nectar of immortality. Mandara Mountain was used as a churning rod, and Vasuki, the king of serpents, became the rope for churning. The demigods took Vasuki’s tail and the demons his head, and they churned the milk ocean for one thousand celestial years. Among many other amazing things, a pot of immortal nectar was produced. The demigods were fearful that the demons would take advantage of it, so they stole the pot and hid it in the four places on Earth where the Mela is held. During the act of hiding, a drop of immortal nectar spilled from the pot at each of the four places. Kumbha Mela is held at the time when, according to astrological calculations, the immortal nectar is most readily available to those who bathe in the sacred rivers.
Approaching the festival site, we pulled over at a small hill that provided a panoramic view of the Mela. The magnitude of the site testified to the pilgrims’ enthusiasm to be liberated from the material world through contact with the nectar of immortality. Witnessing the vast landscape of tents, I was fascinated by the thought that so many people were coming simply for spiritual purposes.
Prabhupada said:
“At the Kumbha-Mela, millions of people come to take bath in the Ganges because they are interested in how to become spiritually liberated from this material world. They travel thousands of miles to take bath in the Ganges at the holy place of Prayaga.”
[ Room conversation with Pusta Krsna das ]
From our vantage point on the hill, I could see thousands upon thousands of people pouring into the Mela. These people were prepared to travel long distances and tolerate many discomforts, including sleeping in austere conditions in very cold weather. Some arrived on overcrowded trains. Others came by bus, car and even ox carts. While the rich and famous flew into Prayagraj on chartered flights, the multitudes came on foot carrying all their necessities—food and a couple changes of clothes—in bundles on their heads. But whether rich or poor, everyone had the same agenda: to bathe in the sangam at the auspicious moment and attain passage back to the spiritual world. I could hear many people glorifying the Ganges with cries of “Ganga Ma ki jaya! All glories to Mother Ganges!”
Sastra supports their glorification:
nimna ganam yatha ganga
devanam acyuto yatha
vaisnavanam yatha sambhuh
purananam idam tatha
“Just as the Ganga is the greatest of all rivers, Lord Acyuta the supreme among deities and Lord Sambhu [Siva] the greatest of Vaisnavas, so Srimad-Bhagavatam is the greatest of all Puranas.”
[ Srimad Bhagavatam 12.13.16 ]
I knew that as Westerners, we would be a tiny minority at the Mela, but we were not the first foreigners to take part by any means. A seventh-century diary written by Hiuen Tsiang from China mentions Kumbha Mela. He writes that he witnessed half a million people gather on the banks of the Ganges at Prayagraj to observe a celebration for 75 days. He even mentions that a king was present with his ministers, scholars, philosophers and sages, and that he gave away huge amounts of gold, silver and jewels to acquire pious credit and assure himself a place in heaven.
The current rulers of India, likewise, were taking part in the Mela by facilitating many of the logistical details. The government had been working on the services and accommodations for an entire year, and the statistics were mind-boggling. Over 6,000 religious and cultural organizations had been allotted land, including our International Society for Krsna Consciousness. The Mela site sprawled over 32 square miles, an area equivalent to a large town. There were 4,200 premium tents, 300 kilometers of roads, 122,000 toilets, 20,000 dustbins, 10,000 policemen and 30,000 military personnel. They had provided row upon row of simple tents for free accommodation. There were lost-and-found centers dotted throughout the Mela, intended mainly for helping people find their lost family members and friends. In 2013, thousands of people—mostly women and children—went missing in the huge crowds. The entire cost of this year’s Kumbha Mela was estimated at 400 million dollars.
There were many ashrams and camps distributing free food throughout the Mela, including our ISKCON camp. Overall, 5,384 metric tons of rice, 7,834 tons of wheat, 3,174 tons of sugar and 767 kiloliters of kerosene were allocated to the food distribution centers. 160 dispensers of clean drinking water were available throughout the Mela.
A 100-bed hospital and ten smaller hospitals staffed by 200 doctors and 1,500 health professionals were set up throughout the event. 80 practitioners of Ayurveda were also available. There were elaborate plans for waste management too. Every one of the 122,000 toilets were geo-tagged to help tackle any problems. Talk about organization!
Meeting India’s Spiritual Leader
It is generally very difficult to meet famous spiritual personalities in India due to strict security policies, but luck was on my side. My good friend Pundrik Goswami of the Radha Raman temple in Vrindavan invited me to stay with him at a camp where many of the principal spiritual dignitaries would be staying. It was called, Guru Karishni Camp, and was run by Swami Sharanandaji Maharaja, a prominent figure in Vrindavan. I considered this to be a golden opportunity to network with these personalities, most of whom would be unlikely to visit our ISKCON camp at the Mela or ISKCON temples elsewhere in India.
Once I arrived at the camp, Pundrik Goswami lost no time introducing me to the spiritual leaders present. His introduction followed a standard format: he would begin by glorifying Srila Prabhupada and explaining how he took Krsna consciousness to the West and how ISKCON has become a worldwide spiritual organization. Then he would introduce me and share some of the results of my service in different parts of the world. His introduction acted as an endorsement whereby India’s spiritual leaders gained confidence and respect for my humble self and, through me, Srila Prabhupada’s movement.
Over several days I had enlightening talks with numerous personalities. These included:
- Sri Ravi Shankar, the head of the Art of Living Foundation: I shared with him the work of ISKCON in communist countries like Russia and China. I told him of how Srila Prabhupada went to Russia in the 1970s and of the success of our movement there since that time. He was so touched that he gave me a beautiful silk chaddar as a gift.
- Swami Chidananda of Parmarth Niketan from Rishikesh: he wasn’t staying at the Guru Karishni Camp, but like many other sadhus, he visited to associate with prominent spiritual leaders. We had lunch together on two occasions. After I spoke to him about the glories of Srila Prabhupada, he offered to help renovate holy places in Vrindavan. He was especially eager to give money towards cleaning Radha Kunda so that pilgrims could drink the water from it, as well as establishing a large evening arotika on the banks of that sacred lake.
- Keshav Prasad Maurya, the deputy chief minister of UP: he had some misconceptions about our movement which I was happy to resolve to his full satisfaction.
- Swami Avdeshanand, the leader of one million Naga Babas and head of the Juna Akhada: Naga Babas (translated literally as “naked yogis”) are worshipers of Lord Siva. With their ash-covered bodies and matted dreadlocks, even their physique resembles his. They take vows of celibacy, renounce societal norms and live in the Himalayas. Swami Avdeshanand is such a respected leader that he is given the honor of being the first person to bathe at Kumbha Mela. After our talk he took my hand and said, “Your movement is creating a spiritual revolution all over the world!”
- Sri Rajendra Das Ji Maharaja, a well-known sadhu with a big ashram in Vrindavan: moved by Srila Prabhupada’s voyage to the USA and his introduction of Krsna consciousness in almost every country of the world, he invited me to visit him for lunch in Vrindavan.
- Lokesh Muni, leader of the Jains in India: this was the third time I have met him over the last few years. He invited me to spend time with him at his headquarters in Rajasthan.
Lost At The Mela
Going anywhere outside the Guru Karishni Camp was a challenge because there was a veritable flood of humanity outside its confines: an estimated 64 million people were descending upon the Mela to bathe on February 4th, the most auspicious bathing day.
I woke up early that morning which was an austerity in itself. It was mid-winter and it was cold in the tent where I was staying. I bathed quickly in an improvised bathroom which was without hot water, and then went out into the cold foggy morning.
“How in the world are 64 million people going to bathe along the river bank?” I wondered. And then a doubt entered my mind. “Will I actually be able to bathe in the river myself?”
The previous night I had searched the internet for all the information I could find on the three sacred rivers, the Ganges, Yamuna and Saraswati. A recent BBC article described the Ganges as the world’s sixth most polluted river. It said that 3,000 million liters of untreated sewage are pumped into the river every day; the figure didn’t include the industrial waste poured into the Ganges as it descends from the Himalayas to the Bay of Bengal. By the time it reaches Prayagraj, a town that also contributes untreated sewage to its waters, the Ganges, the article said, becomes a sewer.
The Prime Minister of India, Narendra Modi, claimed that cleansing the Ganges was nothing less than a mission from God.
“Ma Ganga has called me,” he told the crowd at his victory celebration some years ago when he was swept to power in a landslide victory. “She has decided some responsibilities for me. Ma Ganga is screaming for help; she is saying ‘I hope one of my sons gets me out of this filth’. It is possible it has been decided by God for me to serve Ma Ganga.”
He pledged serious money to his Clean Ganga Mission – more than $3 billion dollars.
This was sobering and disturbing information. I turned away from Google to the Srimad Bhagavatam and the purports of my spiritual master for guidance. My doubts were resolved when I read this:
yat pada sevabhirucis tapasvinam
asesa janmopacitam malamdhiyah
aadyah ksinotyanvaham edhati sati
yatha padangustha vinihsrta sarit
“By the inclination to serve the lotus feet of the Supreme Personality of Godhead, suffering humanity can immediately cleanse the dirt which has accumulated in their minds during innumerable births. Like the Ganges water, which emanates from the toes of the lotus feet of the Lord, such a process immediately cleanses the mind, and thus spiritual or Krsna consciousness gradually increases.”
[ Srimad Bhagavatam, 4.21.31 ]
In his purport, Srila Prabhupada writes:
“In India, one can actually see that a person who takes a bath in the Ganges waters daily is almost free from all kinds of diseases. A very respectable brahmana in Calcutta never took a doctor’s medicine. Even though he sometimes felt sick, he would not accept medicine from the physician but would simply drink Ganges water, and he was always cured within a very short time. The glories of Ganges water are known to Indians and to ourselves also. The river Ganges flows by Calcutta. Sometimes within the water there are many stools and other dirty things which are washed away from neighboring mills and factories, but still thousands of men take baths in the Ganges water, and they are very healthy as well as spiritually inclined. That is the effect of Ganges water. The Ganges is glorified because it emanates from the toes of the lotus feet of the Lord. Similarly, if one takes to the service of the lotus feet of the Lord, or takes to Krsna consciousness, he is immediately cleansed of the many dirty things which have accumulated in his innumerable births.”
Elsewhere, Rupa Goswami writes that the Ganges is always pure, regardless of its seeming pollution:
drstaih svabhava janitair vapusas ca dosair
na prakrtatvam iha bhakta janasya pasyet
gangambhasam na khalu budbuda phena pankair
brahma dravatvam apagacchati nira dharmaih
“Being situated in his original Krishna conscious position, a pure devotee does not identify with the body. Such a devotee should not be seen from a materialistic point of view. Indeed, one should overlook a devotee’s having a body born in a low family, a body with a bad complexion, a deformed body, or a diseased or infirm body. According to ordinary vision, such imperfections may seem prominent in the body of a pure devotee, but despite such seeming defects, the body of a pure devotee cannot be polluted. It is exactly like the waters of the Ganges, which sometimes during the rainy season are full of bubbles, foam and mud. The Ganges waters do not become polluted. Those who are advanced in spiritual understanding will bathe in the Ganges without considering the condition of the water.”
[ Nectar of Instruction, Text 6 ]
Reading these instructions, I decided to follow the advice of my spiritual master and the Srimad Bhagavatam. I remembered a key verse:
yasya deve para bhaktir
yatha deve tatha gurau
tasyaite kathita hy arthah
prakasante mahatmanah
“Only unto one who has unflinching devotion to the Lord and to the spiritual master does transcendental knowledge become automatically revealed.”
[ Svetasvatara Upanisad 6.23 ]
“I’m going,” I said to myself out loud, with full conviction. “Whatever it takes, I will bathe at the Triveni Sangam at the auspicious time.”
The arrangements to travel to the sangam were made by Pundrik Goswami.
“Maharaja,” he said to me, “you’ll come with me and the spiritual leaders in a van, and your assistants, Narottam das, Vikram and Kartamashi das, can go in another. It will take us around four hours to reach the sangam.”
“That’s a long time,” I said. “How far away is it?”
“It’s 12 kilometers from here,” Goswami said.
“So we’ll be traveling at a rate of three kilometers an hour?” I asked.
“Well, remember there are 64 million people vying for that little space at the sangam,” he said. “The police say that since midnight last night 32 million people have bathed. But we’ll make it. We have a police escort.”
I sat on the floor of the van, relinquishing the seats to six elderly sadhus who were joining us on the journey. Wanting to focus on the purpose of our journey, I read aloud the following verse from Caitanya Caritamrta:
mahattvam gangayah satatam idam abhati nitaram
yad esa sri visnos carana kamalotpatti subhaga
dvitiya sri laksmir iva sura narair arcya carana
bhavani bhartur ya sirasi vibhavaty adbhuta guna
“The greatness of mother Ganges always brilliantly exists. She is the most fortunate because she emanated from the lotus feet of Sri Visnu, the Personality of Godhead. She is a second goddess of fortune, and therefore she is always worshiped both by demigods and by humanity. Endowed with all wonderful qualities, she flourishes on the head of Lord Siva.”
[ Caitanya Caritamrita, Adi Lila 16.41 ]
When the sadhus heard me chanting the Sanskrit glorifying Mother Ganges, they all smiled broadly.
“May Mother Ganges bless you today!” one said, placing his hand upon my hand.
Our van crawled through the dense crowds. Seeing the sadhus inside, people folded their hands in respect, and some touched the van and then touched their heads. When they saw me crouched on the floor of the van, many smiled and called out, “Hare Krsna!”
“You Western vaisnavas are keeping our spiritual culture alive,” one of the sadhus said to me.
We finally arrived at the river confluence hours later. The bank seethed as people tried to move towards the water while others tried to move back after bathing.
“Alright! We’re here!” Pundrik Goswami called. “Everybody out!”
I hesitated. “Out where?” I thought. There was not an inch of free ground.
I quickly changed into a small red gamcha (thin cotton waist towel) and slung a small towel around my neck. Kicking off my sandals, I grabbed my cell phone and placed it in a small plastic bag. “Just in case!” I thought. Finally, I tucked my bag containing my passport and money safely under the seat. For a moment I contemplated taking a sweater because it was so cold outside.
“No,” I decided. “I’ll just take the bare minimum. The river is only meters away and we’ll be back in a flash!”
Without warning, the sliding door I was leaning on opened and I fell out of the van and onto the ground.
“I’m going to get trampled!” I thought. The crowd surged over me and around me. I pushed myself upwards to gasp for air; all I could see was waves of people for kilometers in every direction. When I finally managed to steady myself on my feet, I saw I was 20 meters behind the sadhus. They were intrepidly pushing their way towards the water, the policemen guarding them on all sides. The crowd was squeezing me and it was hard to breathe.
“Wait for me!” I yelled, trying to recover the distance between us. My cries merged into the tumultuous noise created by the pilgrims as they strained forward to bathe in the nectar of immortality.
I managed to rejoin the sadhus just a few meters from the Triveni Sangam where the Ganges flows alongside the Yamuna and the mystical Saraswati River joins them from beneath the ground. We were also joined by Vikram and Kartamashi, who was trying to take photos in the midst of it all. His face was ashen.
“I thought I was going to be crushed to death!” he blurted out.
The roar of the crowd at the sangam was deafening as thousands of people simultaneously achieved their goal of bathing. Cries of “Ganga Ma ki jaya! All glories to Mother Ganges!” reverberated everywhere.
Far away in the river, separated from the throng, I saw a small group of four sadhus standing motionless in the water, their hands folded in prayer. Their long, matted hair was tied up in topknots on their heads. Though thin, they were not emaciated; in fact, they were effulgent, almost glowing. Seeing their gravity and obvious devotion, the hair on my arms stood up for a moment.
“That’s the mood I’m seeking,” I thought. I remembered a verse that encapsulated my aspirations:
tvayi me ‘nanya-visaya
matir madhu-pate ‘sakrt
ratim udvahatad addha
gangevaugham udanvati
“O Lord of Madhu, as the Ganges forever flows to the sea without hindrance, let my attraction be constantly drawn unto You without being diverted to anyone else.”
[ Srimad Bhagavatam 1.8.42, “Prayers by Queen Kunti” ]
As if hearing the verse I had just remembered, the sadhus I was with sat down together to do puja, their attention single-pointed on the sacred sangam, oblivious to anyone else.
“Here and now?” I thought. I watched in disbelief as they took out all sorts of paraphernalia and, in a peaceful reverie, began offering arotik to the three rivers. Hundreds of people directly behind us were straining to see the sadhus do their puja, while the build-up of people further back caused the line to bulge. People fell to the ground because of the weight of the crowd behind them.
I heard Vikram calling, “Maharaja! Maharaja!” Over to my right, the intense pressure of the crowd was pulling him away. Then he simply disappeared into the mass of people.
Suddenly the crowd surged forward with such force that all of us were thrown into the river. I clutched my phone in the plastic bag as I fell into the cold water. I swam up to the surface, gasping for air. There was transcendental chaos everywhere as people splashed each other in great joy. The glorification of Mother Ganges reached a frantic pitch: “Ganga Ma ki jaya! Ganga Ma ki Jaya! Ganga Ma ki jaya!”
Surrendering to the moment and remembering the four effulgent sadhus, I stood with my hands folded and prayed to Mother Ganges for loving devotion to the Supreme Lord. Then, following the prescribed method for bathing, I dunked three times into the cold water. When I came up the last time, one blissful sadhu jumped on me and we both tumbled back into the water. Coming up, he again pulled me under, this time going deeper into the water. We splashed each other in great fun, and more sadhus joined our little melee.
“Maharaja,” I heard a voice shout. I saw Vikram swimming towards me. “I finally found you!” he said. “Our group is back on the bank of the river and is preparing to leave. You must come now.”
As I prepared to get out of the water I saw Kartamashi on the bank taking photos. I raised my arms in bliss, and he took a last photo before being pushed from behind. He and his camera just escaped falling into the river.
I glanced back to catch a last glimpse of the four sadhus. They were nowhere to be seen.
“How is that possible?” I wondered. “There’s no way they could have moved through all the people bathing in the sangam back to the bank. It’s very peculiar.” I remembered something I had read a few days before:
“Prabhupada said that although a number of the saints and sadhus present [at Kumbha Mela] were inauthentic, many were perfect yogis, some of them three and four hundred years old. These yogis, from remote parts of India, would come out for the Mela and then return to seclusion. ‘I have personally seen,’ he said, ‘that they take bath in the Ganges and come up in the seven sacred rivers! They go down in the Ganges and come up in the Godavari River. Then they go down and come up in the Krsna River, and go down, like that. The devotees, therefore, should respect everyone who attended the Mela.’”
[Srila Prabhupada lilamrta, Volume 4, Every Town and Village]
It took me a good half an hour to make it back to the van. Somehow we had acquired a number of additional sadhus for the ride back to the camp, so I offered to ride in the smaller car with Narottam, Vikram and Kartamashi. Always concerned about my welfare, Pundrik Goswami reluctantly agreed. I started to push through the crowd away from the van when I realized I had forgotten my bag with my passport in it.
“I left my bag under the seat,” I called to Goswami. “I’ll get it when we’re back.”
“Sure, Maharaja,” he called. He held the bag up so I could see it. “I’ve got it.”
Confident that the smaller car was nearby, I made my way inch by inch to where I had seen it parked some distance away. But to my astonishment, it was gone. I made my way as quickly as I could back to where the van was parked, only to find it had left as well.
I stood there, momentarily bewildered. I was alone in a crowd of 64 million people, dressed only in a small wet gamcha with a damp towel around my neck. I had no dhoti, no kurta, no shoes, and, perhaps most alarmingly, no jacket to protect me from the cold. I had no clear idea where I was. All I knew was that the camp I was staying in was in Sector 7, and that that was 12 kilometers away. 12 kilometers through a mass of humanity pressing its way along the 300 kilometers of roads crisscrossing the Mela site. I had no map, and there were no signs giving directions in Hindi, much less English. I glanced at my watch. It was 4 p.m. and sunset was imminent.
Then I remembered I had my phone clutched in my hand. I unwrapped it from its plastic-bag covering and turned it on. To my dismay I saw there was no service available, and my battery had only 3 % left in it. I hurriedly turned it off.
“How in the world do people know where they’re going?” I wondered. Then, laughing to myself, I thought, “I’m probably the only person in this crowd of 64 million people who doesn’t know where he’s going!”
Knowing for sure that the direction to proceed was not behind me, I started walking forwards through the thick crowds surging towards the river. An hour later, I made it to a crossroads, turned left and began walking down a dirt road with a myriad of shops and ashrams on either side. Each ashram was festooned with colorful banners advertising the resident guru and his teachings. Speakers blared music from inside. As it was now getting dark, bright lights illuminated the temporary city built on the sandy banks of the Ganges.
People gawked at me curiously, and I understood why. I was the only white person to be seen, and I was practically naked. Several times I was approached by Naga-Babas who, thinking me to be one of them, pulled me into their tents and offered me a chillum of hashish to smoke! Each time I declined they seemed perplexed.
I knew I needed to get directions, but to my dismay I couldn’t find a single person who spoke English. There were many different languages being spoken around me because there were pilgrims from every part of India, but not one of those pilgrims was speaking English. There were policemen on every street corner, but they too could make no sense of what I was saying. On a couple of occasions, they literally pushed me away, apparently thinking me to be insane.
A real blow came when I heard a young Indian man say to his friend, “Isn’t that Indradyumna Swami?” But before I could say anything, his friend pulled him away saying, “Come on! Are you crazy? That’s not Indradyumna Swami!” They disappeared back into the crowd before I could confirm my identity and ask their help.
Every now and then I would turn my phone on to see if I was in range. Each time I wasn’t, and each time the battery drained a little more.
By 8:00 pm it was quite cold. From time to time when I got too cold to continue, I slipped into an ashram where a program was going on and sat amongst the crowd for warmth. On one occasion, while sitting in a chair and watching a bhajan on stage, I was approached by one of the ashram leaders.
“Are you in need of anything?” he asked.
“Yes!” I replied enthusiastically, surprised and relieved that I had found someone who spoke English. “I am lost in the Mela and trying to find my way back to my camp. It’s in Sector 7. Can you help me to get there? I have been wandering around for four hours now. Is it far away?”
“Yes, it is,” he said. “It’s about 12 kilometers away at the far end of the Mela site. At the moment you are 50 meters from the bathing spot at the sangam.”
My jaw dropped. I had walked in a big circle, coming back to the exact place I had started. The ashram leader could see my disappointment.
“Why don’t you rest here for a while?” he said. “I’ll get you a blanket.”
“Thank you,” I said. Once I was wrapped in the blanket, I succumbed to my exhaustion and started to drift off to sleep in the chair. I awoke with a start when my entire body began to itch. The blanket was full of fleas and they were ruthlessly biting me. I threw the blanket to the side and quickly left the ashram, determined to reach my destination.
I started out in a different direction. Two hours later, around 10 p.m., I realized that I couldn’t keep going unless I had something to eat. I had learned the hard way not to eat food that I wasn’t 100% sure of in India, but this was an emergency. I joined a line of pilgrims waiting to be served prasadam at one of the food kitchens. It took 45 minutes for me to reach the front of the line. I was given a leaf plate and 2 leaf cups, and was served kichari, a subji, two warm chapatis and a cup of tea. Some smiling pilgrims waved at me to join them as they ate their meal in a circle on the ground. Several times I heard the word “Angreji” which means “English person”. They were kind and sympathetic to me, probably because of my paltry attire.
Hungry, cold and tired I devoured the prasadam. “This is some of the tastiest prasadam I ever had!” I thought, laughing to myself. Once I finished, I thanked the pilgrims and continued on my way with renewed vigor.
I began wondering what Pundrik Goswami, Narottam, Vikram and Kartamashi were thinking.
“Surely, they realized quite quickly that I had been left behind,” I thought. “They must be frustrated and worried, being unable to contact me or find me. But actually, I’m fine,” I realized. “There’s no real danger and it’s only a matter of time until I get back to the camp, whether it’s today or tomorrow. And I am meeting so many nice people! Krsna played a little trick on me just so I can see how the mass of people experience Kumbha Mela. He’s also teaching me how to fully depend on Him. Wonderful!”
Just then I felt a rock whiz past my ear. Then another and another. Looking back I saw a group of children laughing at me.
“Pagal baba! Pagal baba! Pagal baba!” they yelled. I knew the what the phrase meant: “Crazy sadhu!”
I walked quickly away but they followed me and continued throwing stones.
“I can’t blame them,” I thought. “I must look pretty crazy—a barefoot white guy with a dishelved sikha wandering around half naked.” Then one of the rocks hit my elbow causing me to yell out in pain. A policeman saw what was happening and yelled at the group of children to leave me alone. Then he came over and spoke to me in Hindi.
“No Hindi,” I said. “English.” I got down on my hands and knees and wrote “Sector 7” in big letters in the sand.
“There,” I said, pointing. “I need to go there.”
He looked puzzled and took me by the arm to an ashram just a few meters away. He sat me down on a mat and disappeared. Ten minutes later he came back with a man who offered me a hot cup of tea. I gladly accepted it and then both of them went on their ways. I curled up on the mat and fell asleep. When I jolted awake, I checked my watch; I’d slept for 10 minutes. I got up and continued on my way, first checking to make sure the group of children was not around.
At 11:30 p.m. I checked my cell phone again. I was in range! But I was alarmed to see there was only 1 % battery power left.
“I have enough power for one phone call,” I thought. “If the person doesn’t answer, I won’t be seeing any of my friends tonight.”
I choose to call Narottam. He picked up immediately.
“Hello! Hello! Gurudeva, is that you? Hello?” Narottam sounded both excited and worried.
“Yes, it’s me!” I said.
“Good Lord! We’ve been so worried. What happened? Where are you? I’ve been out looking for you for hours!”
“I’m not sure where I am,” I said. “I’ve been walking around in circles since we were separated. But I’m fine. Just a little cold and tired. Can you find a car and come to collect me?”
“It’s almost impossible to find a car at this hour, but I’ll try,” he said. “The main thing is that we need to figure out where you are.” He was silent for a moment, thinking. “OK, here’s an idea. Take a photo of where you are and send it to me on WhatsApp. I’ll go to a police station and ask for their help in finding your location.”
“Brilliant idea!” I said. And without even saying goodbye I hung up and quickly took a picture of the scene in front of me. I sent the photo on WhatsApp and my phone immediately died.
It took Narottam just 30 minutes to find me. It turned out that his search had led him quite close to where I was, and the nearby police kiosk was quickly able to identify the junction where I was waiting. When he finally arrived, I jumped into the car and sat as close as I could to the heat coming out of the vents on the dashboard. Just as the car was pulling away there was a loud bang and it stopped in its tracks.
“What was that?” Narottam asked.
“The driver dropped his transmission,” I said with a wry smile.
“What does that mean?”
“Basically, it means we aren’t going anywhere in this car,” I said, getting out.
“Now what?” Narottam asked.
“Lots of walking!” I said. “Let’s go!”
“Where are we going?” he said.
“Sector 7 of course!” I replied.
With Narottam at my side, we were in a much better position to make it back to our camp, simply because he speaks Hindi. He asked people for the directions to Sector 7 and after a short time he had a good idea how to get there.
“How long will it take to walk there?” I asked.
“Through this crowd,” he replied, “Maybe 2 or 3 more hours.”
I looked at my watch. It was 12 p.m. For the first time that day I became a bit despondent.
And then a taxi came around the corner.
“Narottam, stop that taxi!” I yelled. He literally jumped in front of the taxi, surprising the driver, who screamed at him in Hindi.
“What did he say?” I asked.
“He said he’s not working now. No way.”
“Yes, he is,” I said. “Give me 1000 rupees.”
I opened the back door of the taxi and jumped in. The taxi driver looked shocked.
“Out!” he screamed in Hindi.
“Bhai sabh, brother!” I said. “This is for your trouble.”
He smiled when he saw the money. “No problem!” he said in English.
At 1 a.m. we pulled into our camp. Everyone was fast asleep, but I saw the light was still on in Pundrik Goswami’s room. I knew he would be worried about me. His eyes opened wide when he saw me standing there barefoot in my red gamcha, the cold wet towel still around my neck.
“Maharaja, I am so sorry!” he said.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” I said with a big smile. “Tonight, I experienced Kumbha Mela first hand, much like Hiuen Tsiang from China probably did in the 7th century. But whereas he walked amongst half a million people for 75 days, I walked amongst 64 million people for 9 hours. It was one of the most wonderful experiences of my life!”
We left the Mela around noon that day. When we drove out of our camp, I was surprised to see the streets were mostly deserted.
“Where is everyone?” I asked Narottam.
“Many of the people you saw yesterday came just to bathe in the sangam,” he said. “The majority were leaving on foot late last night when I was looking for you. More people will come again for other important bathing days in the next few weeks. Did you enjoy your visit, Gurudeva?”
“It was most satisfying,” I replied. “I feel as though the sadhu’s benediction upon me has come to pass, for I indeed feel as though Mother Ganges has blessed me. I was able to bathe in the Triveni Sangam in the association of advanced souls at the most auspicious moment to occur in 200 years. I spent time with the masses and, most importantly, I was able to share Krsna consciousness with a number of important spiritual leaders of the country. I feel very fortunate to have visited this sacred place on such an auspicious occasion.”
**********************
“There are several places in India. One of them is this Naimisaranya and another very important place is called Prayaga, generally known as Allahabad. But the original name is Prayaga. That is considered to be one of the most sacred places in India. Still every year there is a fair called Magha-Mela. Magha means during the month of January, February, a fair takes place in which all the sages, saintly persons, come from all over parts of India. They gather and take their bath at the confluence of Ganga and Yamuna. That is a very nice place. If you visit India, you should see all these nice places.”
[ Srila Prabhupada lecture, Srimad Bhagavatam 1.2.6. London, August 26, 1971 ]
“Their Joyful Smiles”
May 8, 2019
I had spent most of the last five months in Vrindavan, with only a few side trips here and there. But at the beginning of May, I was leaving. Despite the approach of Vrindavan’s oppressive summer weather, I felt I could have stayed longer. It was with much regret and intense feelings of separation that I headed towards the New Delhi airport to fly away from the holy dhama.
Vrindavan grows on you if you stay long enough. Even a short visit to a holy place can have miraculous effects. In the Skanda Purana it is stated:
“For a person who has lived in Dvarka for six months, for one month, or even for one fortnight, there is awaiting elevation to the Vaikuntha-lokas and all the profits of sarupya-mukti, which is the privilege of having the same four-handed bodily features as Narayana.”
[Nectar of Devotion, Chapter 7]
But Srila Prabhupada once said, “Vrindavan is for inspiration.” I have always taken that to mean that we come to Vrindavan for purification and to become attached to our beloved Lord Sri Krishna. But after some time, we are meant to leave and share our good fortune with people who know nothing about Krsna and His transcendental abode. I held this instruction in my mind as I forced myself to leave.
But by the time I reached the airport I was already in another mood, ready to preach Krsna consciousness. From the very beginning of my career as a devotee, I felt as much satisfaction preaching on city streets in the West as I felt roaming the forests of Vrindavan in search of holy places. Both moods are interdependent. By sharing Krsna consciousness in the West we get the qualification to visit Vrindavan and by residing in Vrindavan we gain the purity and spiritual strength to share Krsna consciousness with others. Srila Prabodhananda Saraswati puts it nicely:
yatha yatha gaura padaravinde
vindeta bhaktim krta punya rasih
tatha tathotsarpati hrdy akasmat
radha padambhoja sudhambu rasih
“To the degree that we surrender to Lord Caitanya’s service, to that degree we gain qualification for service to Radharani’s lotus feet in Vraja.”
[Caitanya-candramrta, verse 88]
I travelled from New Delhi to Poland where my belongings are stored. I rested there for a day and the next morning headed to the Warsaw airport to catch a flight to Moscow for my annual month-long tour of Russia. There I encountered a very unaccommodating immigration officer.
“Your passport,” she barked. There was another uniformed lady sitting beside her watching her every move. I concluded I was being dealt with by a new immigration trainee.
“Where is your boarding pass?” she snapped. Her superior slightly smiled in approval.
“It’s here, Ma’am,” I said, handing it through the hole in the window.
“Don’t you know to give it at the same time?” she growled, as if I was the dumbest man on earth.
“Yes, of course, next time I will,” I said. I wondered whether being sharp and rude to departing passengers was part of the job.
As she checked my documents, I remembered the time I went through immigration at JFK airport in New York with Srila Prabhupada. The customs officer was very rough with him. He wanted to see what was in the small white briefcase Srila Prabhupada was carrying, but Srila Prabhupada was having difficulty opening it.
The officer was impatient. “I told you to open it!” he shouted at Srila Prabhupada.
Outraged, I stepped forward, my hand balled in a fist. “If you speak like that one more time to my spiritual master, I’ll break your face!”
These days that would be enough to get arrested. At the time, the customs officer just looked shocked and stepped back a pace.
“I thought you Hare Krsnas were peace lovers!” he said sarcastically.
I stood my ground defiantly. As if to appease me, he said, “Alright, young man, then you open it.”
I pulled the bag over and fiddled with the lock for a moment and suddenly it popped open. I stood mesmerized by the personal effects of my spiritual master: his passport, a gold pen, a small ball of tilak, a tube of ayurvedic medicine, a pair of kartalas and other transcendental items.
The voice of the customs official broke my awe. “Those things are for me to inspect, young man, not you.”
I passed the bag to him and after a quick search, he moved us on.
As we walked on the tarmac towards the plane, Srila Prabhupada spoke. “Due to their association with the modes of material nature people develop many bad qualities. But when one has the good fortune to associate with devotees of the Lord one develops all the good qualities of the demigods.”
“Your passport!” The grumpy Polish immigration official was waving my documents at me from behind the glass.
“Oh, sorry,” I said, as she pushed it through the window.
Her superior smiled at her, as if to acknowledge the good job she was doing. Then she turned her attention to another trainee on her left.
The demeanor of my immigration official instantly changed. With a big smile, she whispered through the window, “I love your talks at the Festival of India. I go to Rewal each summer. I have a Bhagavad Gita.”
I smiled back but before I could reply her superior, perhaps sensing something was off, gave her a cold stare. She immediately became stone-faced again.
“That will be all,” she said, indicating I should move on.
“Thank you, Krsna,” I thought, “for sharing with me the wonderful fruits of Your samkirtan movement.”
Passing through immigration and customs was a breeze in Moscow. In the terminal I was greeted by 60 very happy devotees, all of whom were smiling from ear to ear. Approaching them I was struck by a strange feeling.
“What is it about these devotees?” I thought to myself. Then I realized. “It’s their smiles! The very same smile I saw on the face of the immigration official back in Warsaw. Anyone who has experienced Krsna’s mercy has that same joyful smile.”
I remembered a portion of a lecture I had recently heard by Srila Prabhupada.
“The Supreme Lord is joyful. Just like if you mix with a joyful society or joyful person, then automatically you become joyful. There is no necessity of becoming joyful separately. That association will make you joyful. This is Krsna consciousness. Simply by association. That rejoice is by association with the Supreme.”
[Bhagavad Gita class, Los Angeles, December 1968]
As I walked into the assembly of blissful devotees I was inundated with countless bouquets of flowers and beautiful flower garlands of all descriptions. I had to hand bouquets to devotees nearby as more arrived in my arms.
Walking towards the car park, I took garlands off and offered them to unsuspecting passersby. It takes a little courage, of course, to walk up to a complete stranger and place a garland of flowers around their neck. But I always find it to be what my godsister Yamuna dasi referred to as one of those “magic moments” in Krsna consciousness. Sure enough, most people broke into a broad smile that resembled the devotees’ own smiles and accepted the garland. Some even asked if they could take a photo with me.
The carpark elevator was crowded with people: five devotees and at least twenty other people. With so many strangers packed together, the atmosphere was tense. And the elevator was stuffy and smelly; the only relief came from the three extremely fragrant garlands I was still wearing, one of which almost touched the floor. I could feel the stares of the other elevator passengers, though I wasn’t sure whether they were staring because of the garlands or my sannyasa cloth, or both. I turned to my secretary who was squashed up next to me.
“Mahavan,” I said, “I am going to make an announcement here. You translate it loud and clear for these people.”
Mahavan looked at me in disbelief. “But Gurudeva…” he said.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I said in a loud voice, “I have these beautiful fragrant garlands that my students have kindly given me. They were first offered to God and so they bring auspiciousness to anyone who wears them.”
Everyone, including Mahavan, looked frozen.
“Go on!” I said to him. “Translate it with a smile. I’ve done this a thousand times.”
And it was true. Back in the 1970s I used to ride the underground metro in Paris for hours on end. Dressed in a dhoti and kurta, with full tilak and a garland worn the previous day by Sri Sri Radha Paris-Isvara, I would jump into a metro car and make announcements loudly in French.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Good day to all the fine people of Paris. I am a monk from America and I have just come back from India. I have with me these books written by my spiritual master to share with everyone the wisdom of ancient India. This knowledge can solve all problems and make the world a better place. As I pass by, please take one and give a generous donation.”
I must have said that mantra 100,000 times and sold 10,000 books. Sometimes I met opposition, but generally people were intrigued by my dress, my smile and my boldness and so they took books.
I nudged Mahavan. “Come on,” I encouraged him.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began in Russian.
“Louder!” I said to him.
“My spiritual teacher has been given these beautiful, fragrant garlands,” he said a little louder.
When he finished, the elevator was silent. People fidgeted a little and a few glanced nervously around. Time stood still.
Then a lady in her 50s said, “Well, I’d love to have the pink one if I may.”
The atmosphere relaxed and people started gazing openly at the garlands. I put the pink, white and blue one around her neck.
“I so feel honored,” she said breathlessly.
“My pleasure,” I said.
As if to head off any others interested in the remaining garlands another woman said, “I would love to have the yellow one!”
By now everyone, without exception, was smiling. I again remembered Srila Prabhupada’s words: “If you mix with a joyful society or joyful person, then automatically you become joyful.”
As the elevator approached the top floor of the carpark, an elderly man in the corner who was dressed in old black clothes spoke up in a quiet voice.
“May I have the last one, sir, the long one?”
“Of course,” I said, as I placed the garland around his neck. He smiled watching it swing around his ankles.
The pleasant mood broke as soon as the elevator doors opened. Everyone rushed out, focusing on finding their cars. Only the old man moved slowly, choosing his steps carefully and keeping his balance with his cane.
“Sir, is someone picking you up?” I asked.
“Oh no,” he replied. “There’s no one. I am alone.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.
“Oh, don’t be sorry,” he said. “I have a car and your act of kindness has made my day. I am wearing a wreath of flowers blessed by God! What greater fortune could there be?”
He walked out into the parking lot. It was a curious sight: an old man with disheveled clothes taking deliberate steps into the dim light wearing a garland down to his ankles with a glowing smile upon his face.
*******************
“Govinda is the original Personality of Godhead with a flute in His hands. He is very blissful, always smiling. By His smiling He offers you blessings. And by seeing His smiling you remain everlastingly smiling. It is so nice.”
[Srila Prabhupada lecture, Montreal, July 4, 1968]
“The Mood of the Day”
May 13, 2019
Aeroflot flight SU 1492 took off from Sheremetyevo airport in Moscow at 18:02 on May 6th. It reported a malfunction 28 minutes into the flight. The captain requested and was given permission by airport control to return to the airport and make an emergency landing. Unfortunately, the plane burst into flames upon landing and 41 passengers lost their lives. A person on the ground who observed the crash said it was a miracle that 33 of the passengers and 4 of the crew members survived. The news spread quickly via social media and was accompanied by horrifying videos of the ill-fated landing.
We are all both terrified of and fascinated by death, particularly when it happens in unusual ways. But the likelihood of dying in a plane crash is so slim it’s almost pointless to quantify. According to authorities, the probability of a plane going down is around one in 5.4 million. Other reports place the odds closer to one in 11 million.
“There’s one dangerous part of the airplane trip and that’s the drive to the airport,” said John Cox, a retired US airline captain and aviation accident investigator.
Of course, these statistics do nothing to diminish the sorrow of the families who lost their loved ones in the Sheremetyevo airport crash. The day it happened I overheard one devotee callously refer to the event as karma. While that may be true, that does not diminish the Vaisnavas’ sympathy for those afflicted. In a purport in Bhagavad Gita, Srila Prabhupada glorifies Arjuna’s soft-hearted nature when lamenting the impending demise of soldiers on the battlefield:
“As far as his soldiers were concerned, he was sympathetic from the beginning, but he felt compassion even for the soldiers of the opposite party foreseeing their imminent death. This overwhelmed a kind devotee like Arjuna. Such symptoms in Arjuna were not due to weakness but his softheartedness, a characteristic of a pure devotee of the Lord.”
[Bhagavad Gita, Chapter 1, verse 28, purport]
If anything, such tragedies serve to remind us about the temporary nature of this world and the need to be more serious about our spiritual lives.
ahany ahani bhutani
gacchantiha yamalayam
sesah sthavaram icchanti
kim ascaryam atah param
“Every day, hundreds and millions of living entities go to the kingdom of death. Still, those who are remaining aspire for a permanent situation. What could be more wonderful than this?”
[Mahabharata, Vana-parva 313.116]
These thoughts were on my mind and certainly on the minds of the 12 devotees in my party too as we drove to the Sochi Airport to catch our 3-hour flight to Sheremetyevo airport in Moscow. When we arrived at the airport it was obvious to me that we were not the only ones with the plane crash on our minds. The atmosphere was quieter and more somber than normal. There wasn’t the usual boisterous noise and excitement emitted by people travelling on vacation or business. There appeared to be an atmosphere composed in equal parts of sobriety and anxiety.
In such situations, I often find people are inclined to be more spiritual. They think more about God and care more for each other. As we walked towards the check-in area, I noticed people were staring at me in my sannyasi cloth as usual, but their stares seemed more compassionate and understanding. At one point a burley well-dressed man approached me with his arms outstretched; he smiled and embraced me. Then he took out his phone and politely asked if he could take a selfie with me. Afterwards, he shook my hand in firm appreciation. Several people walking by nodded and smiled, as if agreeing with his attitude.
“That never happens,” Mahavan das said.
“It’s the mood of the day,” I said. “People are affected by the tragedy in Moscow and are expressing their emotions.”
While many people seemed sympathetic, though, I saw the lady at the check-in counter roll her eyes when she saw our party of devotees. We were all dressed in vaisnava clothes and our luggage carts were overflowing with bags. The check-in lady motioned to another woman to come and help her. Neither of them looked very happy with the prospect of dealing with all our luggage and the variety of foreign passports we piled on the counter.
Vrajamrita dasi, the organizer of our 3-week Russia tour, came forward. There was a tense exchange of words between her and the check-in ladies.
“This is not going to be easy,” I said to Mahavan.
Sure enough, as soon as we started placing bags on the carousel one of the women refused to accept them.
“Most are three or four kilos overweight,” she said decisively.
“That’s not a lot,” said Vrajamrita. “And some of our bags are far under the weight limit. Put them on the scales and see. Considering that, you can let all our luggage through.”
“Absolutely not!” said the lady firmly.
“It means we’ll have to take things from some bags and put them into others,” Vrajamrita said. “But the end result will the same.”
The lady shrugged, indicating our luggage wasn’t her problem.
When the devotees started unpacking, the intensity of the situation increased as the long line of passengers behind us became restless.
A woman in uniform came to the front of the line where devotees were mired in repacking. It was obvious from her demeanor that she was the superintendent authority of the airline.
“What is going on here?” she asked.
Vrajamrita politely and calmly explained the situation. The superintendent glanced at the devotees. “You don’t deserve this treatment,” she said. “You need not worry. It’s only a few extra kilos. Put all the bags on the carousel. We’ll just check them through.”
Vrajamrita looked surprised. “This never happens with this airline,” she said.
“It’s the mood of the day,” I said.
People appeared unusually nervous as we boarded our flight. I was upgraded to Business Class and as the flight took off, I chanted softly on my japa beads. The roar of the engine got louder and I started chanting a little louder too. After 20 minutes the man in the seat in front of me turned around and said rudely, “Stop the mumbling! You’re disturbing all of us!”
“Hey! Leave him alone,” the man in the aisle next to me said. “Can’t you see he’s praying?”
Then the man in the seat behind piped up, “Yes, he’s praying. That’s a good thing. Perhaps that’s what all of us should be doing now!”
As the roar of the plane’s engines died down I was inclined to chant softer, but since people seemed pleased by my japa and perceived it as prayer, I just kept going. A few times during the flight passengers looked over at me and smiled.
“It’s unusual,” I thought to myself. “But it’s the mood of the day.”
After our flight landed in Moscow, I stood up to take my bags out of the luggage compartment. One of the gentlemen who had defended me stepped forward and said, “Let me help you, sir.”
When we parted ways at the plane exit, he said, “You keep well.”
“You too,” I replied.
No doubt our well-wishes were a product of the heightened awareness of human fragility brought on by the horrific crash of flight SU 1492. As terrible as such tragedies are, they serve to bring out sympathy and empathy for each other and an urgency to take shelter of the Lord.
Exiting the airport, I reflected on the tragedy and the reactions of the people I had encountered in my travels. Determined to transcend the miseries of this world and desiring the same for all of them, I prayed:
vivrta vividha badhe bhranti vegad agadhe
balavati bhava pure majjato me vidure
asarana gana bandho ha krpa kaumudindo
sakrd akrta vilambam dehi hastavalambam
“I am drowning in the painful, fathomless whirlpool of repeated birth and death. O Lord, O friend of the shelterless, O effulgent moon of mercy, please, just this one time, quickly extend Your hand to save me!”
[Srila Rupa Goswami, Padyavali, text 61]
“Summer of Love”
July 22, 2019
During my teenage years, I was living in San Francisco during 1967’s “Summer of Love” when hippies were trying to establish the brotherhood of mankind without any positive lifestyle alternative or anyone to guide them. History shows that the young people of my generation fell hopelessly short of the goal of universal peace and love, for true love and peace can only be experienced on the spiritual platform.
The summer of 2019 is momentous, for it is a milestone in the devotees’ distribution of spiritual love: this year marks the thirtieth annual summer festival tour along Poland’s Baltic Sea coast. As my flight landed in Poland, I realized that I was the only original member of the tour that started three decades ago. In fact, several of this year’s participants are the teenage children of the devotees who were part of the inaugural festival tours during the early 90s. I thought how fortunate those teenagers were to be spending their summer vacation chanting, dancing and sharing Krsna consciousness with others, just as their parents had.
I had just flown in from Macedonia wearing non-devotee dress, but as soon as I landed, I changed into my devotional attire. Many devotees feel more comfortable in Western dress, but I still favor the traditional dhoti, kurta and shaved head. As I changed, I remembered a story my godbrother Bhavananda das had shared with me. He told me that when he first joined the movement in Los Angeles in 1969, he didn’t immediately shave his head. Srila Prabhupada noticed but didn’t say anything; he was away on the morning Bhavananda finally did shave his head clean. When Srila Prabhupada arrived back in Los Angeles the next day, Bhavananda gave him a garland and paid his obeisances. When he stood up Srila Prabhupada looked at him, rubbed his head with his hand and said with a big smile “Thank you very much!”
Although Srila Prabhupada preferred his disciples to dress in traditional clothing, he was not against them wearing Western dress. However, he made several conditions about this in a letter to Brahmananda das:
“The next point is that you should dress just like perfect American gentlemen, but the sikha and tilak must be very prominent. Coat, pants, necktie and everything – brahmacari and grhasthas, they can put on because you are not Sannyasi. In the temple, you can dress as brahmacari, but in order not to become ridiculous in the eyes of others, outside you can dress just like a very nice perfect aristocratic American. So there is no objection. But we must have always our tilak and sikha and there is no compromise for this purpose.”
[Srila Prabhupada letter to Brahmananda, October 6, 1968]
In other words, Srila Prabhupada expressed his desire that we retain the important symbols of our tradition—the sikha and tilak marking.
Guru Kripa das was waiting for me in a van outside the terminal.
“Welcome home!” he greeted me.
“Thank-you,” I said. “Actually, you’re right. This is my home, because home is where the heart is. I have been waiting for this moment all year!”
The 300 tour devotees had already set up the first festival of the summer in the nearby town of Pobierowo. The festival was in progress when we arrived. Driving in, I was overwhelmed with emotion at seeing hundreds of people walking through the festival grounds enjoying various activities in our numerous colorful tents. Some guests were immersed in the cooking demonstration, others were listening attentively to a seminar called “The Art of Happiness”, and still others were reading information in the exhibits on reincarnation and vegetarianism. Several young girls were in line to get gopi-dot face paint. The restaurant was jam-packed with customers. And to my greatest satisfaction, the book tent was full of people browsing through Srila Prabhupada’s books.
Guru Kripa looked at his watch and said, “Your stage lecture is in 10 minutes. We have to hurry!”
“This seems to happen every year,” I said with a laugh. “I arrive at the first festival just in time to lecture!”
Within minutes I was waiting in the stage wings as Krsna Karsani dasi, our Master of Ceremonies, was introducing me. I gathered my thoughts; it had been a year since I had given my usual introductory lecture on Krsna consciousness to a summer crowd.
“It’s a simple talk, but it must contain all the basic tenants of our philosophy,” I thought. “It must be presented in an informal, interesting and captivating way.”
The stage manager gave me a thumbs-up sign.
“You’re on,” he said.
I walked onto the stage to a crowd of several hundred people. “This is a most serious responsibility,” I thought as I faced them. “It may be the one and only chance these people get to hear the unique message of Krsna consciousness as it has been handed down through millennia. My presentation has the potential to awaken people’s interest or not.”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I began, “it is such a pleasure to be here today. I’ve stood before the people of Poland sharing the wisdom of Bhagavad-Gita for 30 years now. Please allow me to share with all of you today its message while our actors are preparing for the next theater performance.”
I ended my talk by offering to sign any Bhagavad Gitas people purchased, and to write them a dedication. I wasn’t prepared for the reaction to this offer. I saw people running towards the book tent and by the time I descended the stage there was already a line of people jostling to have me sign their books.
“It’s my second one,” a lady said as she handed me a Bhagavad Gita.
“Where’s your first one?” I asked.
“Oh, I bought it some years ago at your festival in Rewal,” she said. “To tell you the truth I wasn’t really interested. It was my husband who insisted we get it. When we got home, we put it on the bookshelf and basically just forgot about it. Then nine months ago my husband passed away from cancer. I was devasted. I was ready to take my own life. Then I remembered the book we’d bought together at your festival. I remembered you saying in your lecture that the book could prepare one for death. So I went to our library and searched for the book until I found it. That night I sat down and read it until I fell asleep at 2:00 am. When I woke in the chair later that morning I just kept reading. That book, the Bhagavad Gita, gave me the solace I needed. It explained everything so clearly. Especially how the soul is eternal. I was so grateful.”
“I’m happy that it helped you,” I said.
“But that’s not all,” she said. “Three months ago my only daughter was getting married. I was so attached to her that I was envious of her fiancé. I knew it wasn’t right, so I picked up the Bhagavad Gita and went through it again. It helped me deal with that issue too by teaching me that a wise person sees everyone equally and treats them as God’s children.
“The day before the wedding I was frantically going from shop to shop looking for an appropriate wedding present for them. I was in a big store looking at kitchen equipment when it suddenly dawned on me that the very best thing I could give them was the Bhagavad Gita! All I bought in that shop was some wrapping paper and ribbon, and the next day I proudly gave them the Bhagavad Gita with a note about how dear it was to me. That night I was a little despondent because I felt like I’d lost a friend—I mean the Bhagavad Gita. I turned my attention to planning my vacation to Pobierowo, and I saw your summer festival advertised on the town’s website! I jumped for joy knowing I could get another copy of the book. Now that I have it, I’m confident I can face any challenge that comes my way. And I can also share its knowledge with others. Thank-you. From the bottom of my heart, thank-you.”
Her eyes welled up with tears, and so did mine. It felt good to be home again with the people I had come to love. As the festival ended, I watched people walking away with Bhagavad Gitas under their arms.
“This will be the summer of love my generation hoped for so many years ago,” I thought.
***************
“Out of Lord Caitanya’s spontaneous compassion He restored all people back to their original consciousness and through the means of His holy names, He enabled them to pass beyond the impassable ocean of the age of quarrel. Thus through the golden moons of Lord Hari and the Vaisnavas the news of the names of Krsna was told from person to person.”
[Susloka-Satakam, text 46, by Sarvabhauma Bhattacarya]
”Bonds of Brotherhood”
July 27, 2019
During the month of June I visited ISKCON’s temple in Skopje, Northern Macedonia. Macedonia is a small, land-locked country in Southeastern Europe with a population of just 2.7 million people. I had been invited to speak and hold kirtan at the country’s International Yoga Day Festival.
While we were waiting at a red light on the way to the festival, a horse-drawn wooden cart driven by a teenage boy and holding a family of gypsies pulled up alongside our car. I grabbed my camera, wanting to capture the juxtaposition between the old and the new at the intersection. The gypsy boy was obviously intimidated by the camera; he jumped off the cart and came running towards me, his fist raised.
“Please don’t take offense,” I said to him. “I greatly respect your people.”
He lowered his fist. “Really?”
“Yes,” I replied. “One time I was attacked by some hooligans and your gypsy brothers stepped in to defend me. They literally saved my life.”
“I see,” he said. “Well, ok then.” He returned to his cart and they went on their way.
“Did some gypsies really save your life?” my driver, Prema-vilas dasa, asked me as the light turned green.
“Yes,” I said. “In France in the 1970s a motorcycle gang of 10 men attacked my sankirtan party. Seven of us were camped by a river near the city of Marseille and early one morning they came at us with baseball bats and iron chains. We had no chance. But a group of gypsy men who we had befriended and who were camping nearby came to our rescue with big sticks and a ferocious presence I hadn’t seen before or since. We all became close friends in the ensuing days. When it came time for us to move on, the leader of the gypsies declared I was one of their brethren; he cut his arm with a knife and indicated I should do the same. I was young and somewhat naive and I followed his order. We placed our wounds together to exchange our blood; this is the tradition in the gypsy community for sealing the bonds of brotherhood. Whenever I share this story with gypsy communities, no matter in which country I meet them, they take me as one of their own.”
“Wow!” said Prema-vilas.
“I actually have several gypsy disciples around the world,” I added. “And they’re some of my best disciples.”
“We have a large community of gypsies here in Skopje,” said Prema-vilas. “But we’re wary of them. They beg at the red lights and some of them steal.”
“Every ethnic group contains people with bad habits,” I said. “But ultimately everyone is a spirit soul, part and parcel of Krsna. Have you ever tried sharing Krsna consciousness with the local gypsy community?”
“No way!” His response was vehement.
“Then,” I said, “now is the time to reach out to them.” I quoted a famous verse from the Srimad Bhagavatam:
kirata-hunindhra-pulinda-p ulkasa
abhira-sumbha yavanah khasadayah
ye ‘nye ca papa yad-apasrayasrayah
sudhyanti tasmai prabhavisnave namah
“Kirata, Huna, Andhra, Pulinda, Pulkasa, Abhira, Sumbha, Yavana, members of the Khasa races and even others addicted to sinful acts can be purified by taking shelter of the devotees of the Lord, due to His being the supreme power. I beg to offer my respectful obeisances unto Him.”
[ Srimad Bhagavatam 2.8.14 ]
“Bear in mind,” I said, “that this verse includes you and me amongst the fallen races!”
Prema-vilas looked thoughtful. “How would we go about reaching out to the gypsies of Macedonia?”
“We’ll go straight to the top,” I said. “We need to find out who the leaders are in the gypsy community. We’ll start by visiting one of them and offering our services.”
“What kind of services?” said Prema-vilas.
“We can offer to help their community by giving them food, if they need it,” I said. “Or we can open a vegetarian restaurant. We can start a small yoga studio where we can eventually introduce kirtan and Bhagavad Gita classes. We can have regular harinam parties through their area. And we can make friends with them.”
“You really think that will work?” he said.
“It works everywhere else in the world without exception,” I said. “Besides, chanting Hare Krsna is the chosen dharma for the age of Kali. It must work! Do some research and get back to me. I’d be happy to visit one of their leaders while I am here. I’ll show him the brotherhood scar on my arm.”
The next morning Prema-vilas called me.
“Maharaja, he said, “I did some research and found out that the most influential leader of Macedonia’s gypsy community is a man named Mr. Shaban Saliu. He is the leader of a political party representing the gypsies. Because they form a large base of voters, his position is very strong in the country.”
“Call him up immediately,” I said. “Tell him a leader from our movement would like to meet him to offer our help to his people.”
Ten minutes later Prema-vilas called back.
“Mr. Saliu said he’d be very happy to meet you,” he said, sounding shocked.
“Great,” I said. “When?”
“Right now,” Prema-vilas said. “He’s invited you to his home.”
“Wow! Fantastic!” I said. “Gather a few devotees and we’ll leave in an hour.”
Half an hour later Prema-vilas called me back.
“I can only find 4 devotees who want to go,” he said. “The others are a little hesitant. Aside from a large market we occasionally visit there, we’ve never really ventured into the gypsy community even though it’s just outside the city.”
“Four devotees will be ok,” I said. “Try to find a garland we can take and a few sweets and a Bhagavad Gita too.
The devotees were quiet and fidgety as we drove into the gypsy community. People stared at us.
“It’ll be fine,” I said. “Lord Nityananda preached in such situations and he was always successful!”
Standing next to the gate at the address we’d been given was a nicely dressed gentleman. I got out of the car and he stepped forward and shook my hand with a wide smile on his face.
“Welcome to our community,” he said. “I’m Shaban Saliu. You can just call me Shaban.”
“I am honored to meet you Shaban,” I said. “It’s been a long time coming.”
“Please come into my home,” he said. He took my hand and led me into his house. “We need to go upstairs. I hope you’re ok with a few stairs.”
Nothing could have prepared me for Shaban’s staircase. Beautiful paintings of Radha and Krsna lined the wall all the way up. In the living room there were even more paintings of Krsna: Krsna playing His flute, Krsna dancing with the gopis and Krsna frolicking in the Vrindavan forest.
“So, you are part of a spiritual tradition?” he asked me, gesturing towards a couch.
“Yes,” I replied, my eyes wandering over the paintings. “Our movement is one of the oldest spiritual traditions in the world. It’s based on an authentic scripture called the Bhagavad Gita which was spoken by Lord Krsna in India 5,000 years ago. I believe we can help your community in many ways. For stress and anxiety, we can teach yoga and meditation. We also sing a spiritual song composed of various names of God that quickly purifies the heart and awakens love for the Lord. It’s called the Hare Krsna mantra. We can also distribute blessed food to the people in your community who need it. Some of our volunteers can also work with the youth to reduce crime and violence.”
“What can I say?” Shaban said. “I am completely at your service. I will offer you all my political contacts. There is no city in this country where I don’t have connections. If you can open a preschool or can work in primary education, you are free to share your lifestyle and wisdom with our children. I am familiar with your singing, with your song. In 1988 I saw people like you singing every Saturday on a street corner in Skopje. It went on for many years. There were three boys and three girls. Some were playing drums and others small cymbals.”
“Yes, it all comes from India,” I said.
“Ah, mystical India,” he said, closing his eyes. “I went to India and spent a couple of weeks there. I was fascinated by the country. I felt as if my roots were there. I actually felt it was my home.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yes! he said. “In fact, I did some research. I have a PhD in law, so I was given some facility and you know what I discovered? I discovered that my people, the Romani gypsies, originally come from India. I encountered one scholar at a university who wrote a book entitled The Lost Children of India. He described in detail how my people migrated to Europe in the eleventh century from the northern part of India in search of a better livelihood and to escape rising Muslim attacks. Historical and archaeological evidence suggests the Romani used to dwell in the states of Punjab, Haryana, Sindh and Rajasthan of present-day India. Some scholars say we used to be a part of the present Dalit community, which is a minority still existing in India.”
“I am aware of all this,” I said. A distinguished-looking woman entered the lounge.
“This is my wife, Mirdita,” Shaban said. “She just completed her Master’s degree in Journalism.”
“I am honored to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand. “You can call me Maharaja.”
“Maharaja,” she said, “is this your first time here in our community?”
“Yes, it is,” I said. “We have come to serve your people. Your husband and I have just been discussing that we have a bond of brotherhood because both of our traditions come from India. Plus, my life was saved by your people one time and I became blood brothers with the leader of that group of gypsies. I want to help in whatever way I can.”
She said, “Perhaps you can start with a workshop in our community to present what the Hare Krishna faith is. Most gypsies here are Muslim, but I believe they would be interested in your teachings.”
I glanced over at the devotees who had come with me; their mouths were virtually hanging open.
“We could invite Romani people from all over Macedonia,” Shaban said. “You can give a talk, Maharaja, and sing your special song. It will turn our Romani community around. I think some of them will find their way through your teachings. I am very impressed with your culture. Let’s work together as a team and put something together on a high level.”
“Thank you, Shaban,” I said. “I have this gift for you.” I handed him a copy of the Bhagavad Gita.
“I have heard about this book,” he said. “I see there is even the original Sanskrit text here. The roots of our language come from Sanskrit, you know. Now, tell me: who is Krsna? I know he is blue and I know I have always been attracted to him. You can see the paintings of Krsna I brought back from my visit to India. I have some paintings of his friends too. I think one friend is named Siva. Others are Ganesh and Saraswati. Am I correct?”
I nodded and explained to Shaban who Krsna is and the difference between him and the demigods he mentioned.
After discussing for more than an hour I concluded saying, “Let’s keep in close touch.”
“Yes, of course,” Shaban said with a smile. “And Maharaja, I would like to invite you to my son’s wedding in a month’s time. Around 800 guests will be coming, including many distinguished members of Macedonian society. The leader of the opposition party will also be there. I would like you to give the opening address at the wedding. Maybe you could speak for 30 minutes and sing your song as well. What do you think?”
“I would be honored, Shaban,” I replied, overwhelmed.
As he escorted us down the stairs I glanced again at the paintings.
I thought to myself, “My Lord, who can understand your plans? You are the supreme mystic!”
“Let’s talk later about making a Hare Krsna base here in our Romani community,” Shaban said when we reached the car. “Let’s not just talk words; let’s do something tangible. It can be connected to the culture we share. It can remind gypsies of their origins and can facilitate the deeds of your community as well. Let’s construct a building or monument that will stand for a hundred or two hundred years. Something glorious to represent our combined cultures. This day of our meeting should go down in history in the collective memories of our people.”
He took both my hands and said warmly, “You are so wonderfully dressed! Before you go, let’s walk through the streets of our community so you can meet my people. We can take a few photos as well to remember this momentous day.”
He taught me a few phrases in gypsy language as we walked. When I greeted people with those words they smiled broadly. Everyone knew Shaban and showed him respect. Because I was with him, they were very respectful to me as well. An hour later, when we finally parted ways, Shaban took my hand one last time.
“There is something called destiny,” he said. “Today destiny has brought us together. And in one month’s time destiny will bring us together again.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “Destiny is in the hands of the Lord. How he brings us together to serve him is beyond our understanding.”
************************** ***************
“I was born in a different family, my Guru Maharaja was born in a different family. Who knew that I will come to his protection? Who knew that I would come in America? Who knew that you American boys will come to me? These are all Kṛṣṇa’s arrangement. We cannot understand how things are taking place.”
[Srila Prabhupada lecture on Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati’s Disappearance Day, Los Angeles, December 9, 1968].
“A Sure Sign Of Success”
August 14, 2019
They say that time flies by when you are doing something you enjoy. And conversely it moves slowly when you are busy with something you don’t like. I can say with all honesty, that this summer seems to have passed by in a moment’s time. Now, in the twilight of my years, more than ever before, I relish every moment in Krsna consciousness. I am grateful for what I have; all of it being a gift from my ever well-wisher, my eternal spiritual master, Srila Prabhupada. One verse from sastra, which I repeat many times each day, epitomizes the good fortune I feel:
nama srestam manum api saci putram atra svarupam
rupam tasya grajam uru purim mathurim gosthavatim
radha kunda giri varam aho radhika madhava sam
prapto yasya pratita krpaya sri gurum tam nato’ smi
“ I bow down to the beautiful lotus feet of my spiritual master, by whose causeless mercy I have obtained the supreme holy name, the divine mantra, the service of the son of Sacimata, the association of Srila Svarupa Damodara, Rupa Goswami and his older brother Sanatan Goswami, the supreme abode of Mathura, the blissful abode of Vrindavan, the divine Radha Kunda and Govardhan Hill and the desire within my heart for the loving service of Sri Radhika and Madhava in Vrindavan.”
[ Srila Raghunatha Dasa Goswami, Sri Mukta Carita ]
Raghunatha Dasa Goswami mentions “the loving service of Sri Radhika and Madhava in Vrindavan.” I have not attained that yet, but I am hopeful one day I will. And just how to attain that most precious of all goals has been made clear to me by another one of our acaryas:
yatha yatha gaura padaravinde
vindeta bhaktim krta punya rasih
tatha tathotsarpati hrdy akasmad
radha padambhoja-sudhamburasih
“To the degree that we surrender to Lord Caitanya’s service, to that degree we acquire qualification for service to Radharani’s lotus feet in Vraja.”
[ Sri Caitanya Candramrta, chapter 8, text 88, by Srila Prabodhananda Sarasvati ]
With surrender to Mahaprabhu’s service in mind I gave everything I had to the first half of our summer festival tour along the Baltic Sea coast in Poland. As anyone who has been on the tour during the last 30 years knows, it is not for the faint-hearted. With a major festival, entertaining close to 3,000 people every day for two months, one is pushed to the very limit of his or her mental and physical abilities. But for those who contribute, the rewards are great. Not great in any monetary term, but great in seeing so many people awakened to Krsna conscious and the satisfaction and bliss that brings:
For those who give their living breath
Upon their lips the Holy Name
In praise of He who came
To them a store of bliss in known
And hidden worlds to them are shown
[ ‘Hidden Worlds’ from Nature’s Secret, by Michael Cassidy]
On the tour I see that miracle every day. It’s possible in Krsna consciousness, in the movement of Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu:
“There are only two ways to live your life. One is though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”
[ Albert Einstein ]
In Miedzyzdroje, where we held our first festival after returning from the Polish Woodstock festival halfway through the summer, I marveled how Krsna consciousness touches so many people’s hearts.
As I was signing a Bhagavad Gita for a woman after my talk from the stage, she confided in me:
“I was very much against any form of yoga before meeting you people. My local pastor told us it is the ‘work of the devil.’ When my son started to attend yoga lessons, I forbade him to continue. But after coming here today and observing you people and hearing the talk you gave, I changed my mind. In fact, I just called my son and gave him permission to attend the yoga classes. It’s his birthday tomorrow and I will give him this book as a present.”
Another man approached later asking if I remembered him. I apologized saying I didn’t.
“You must remember,” he said. “It was 15 years ago on this very spot. After your talk I gave you a ship in a bottle. I had made it myself. I worked on it for two years. I was so impressed with what you shared. You kindly gave me a Bhagavad Gita. I must admit I didn’t read it at first. In fact, it was on the bookshelf for 14 years. Last year I had a heart attack. The doctors said I probably wouldn’t survive. I was terrified. I asked my friends to bring that book to the hospital and they read it to me day and night. Hearing the philosophy I conquered my fear. Somehow, I survived. But I haven’t stopped reading the Bhagavad Gita. I know death will come someday and I want to be prepared.”
A few minutes later our tour manager, Nandini dasi, came up to me.
“Gurudeva,” she said, “I am meeting so many people today who are expressing their appreciation for our festival.”
“Me too,” I said.
“I just came from the parking lot,” she continued. “After entering I realized I didn’t have any money to put in the parking meter. I must have looked frustrated, as a lady approached me and asked if I was alright. When I told her my dilemma she said, “Don’t worry I’ll pay for your parking. I just came from your festival. The young people in your movement are living such a pure life and setting the highest example for their generation. We should all support you!”
As we stood appreciating the people’s reception of our festival our Ramayana theater began on stage. It has been one of our ‘mainstays’ as we upgrade it into something more spectacular each year.
This year one of the main characters, the evil-minded Ravana, is played by Sundara Caitanya das. To perform the role more effectively Sundara Caitanya worked out in a gym much of the year and he looks like a modern day Hercules. With his large tattooed covered frame and bulging muscles along with his frightening dress his appearance is quite overwhelming. He has become a good actor as well, making him a very scary and formidable demon.
As we watched the theater I could see the audience was becoming deeply engaged as happens in any good theater production. But I wasn’t prepared for the reaction of one man, who upon seeing Ravana kidnap Sita, jump up and rush the stage furiously screaming, “Let her go! Let her go! You filthy man! Have you no decency?”
The man’s wife and a male friend quickly leapt up and chased after him. He was still yelling when they got to him in front of the stage and calmed him down. Coming to his senses he realized his overreaction and sheepishly returned back to the bench they were sitting on. He appeared a gentleman who simply got too involved in the drama. The reaction in the crowd was mixed. Some were laughing at him, while others seemed to understand. I thought to myself, “This is a really good theater!”
At that moment Nandini’s cell phone rang.
“We’ve got a problem Gurudeva,” she said, “One of our devotees just got caught shoplifting.”
“Shoplifting?” I said. “Are they sure it was a devotee?”
“Yes,” I know the owners of the store.“ replied Nandini “We make purchases there every time we come to town. They know me well.”
“Well, go and take care of this immediately.” I said.
An hour later Nandini called me.
“The store owners were shocked,” she said, “They told me, ‘We’ve known your movement for 20 years. You uphold the highest standards and morals. We never expected anything like this.”
“I told them it certainly doesn’t represent us and I apologized profusely. They said they were obliged to call the police, but I asked if it would be enough if we just sent the devotee boy home and they agreed. He’s already on the train back home.”
We were both a little despondent at this misrepresentation of our tour group when Krsna sent two souls to cheer us up. The festival was just finishing when a couple approached us with a Bhagavad Gita in hand.
“Can you please sign our book?” the lady said.
“Sure,” I replied.
As I took the Bhagavad Gita from her hand I asked, “Did you enjoy the festival today?”
“Actually, we arrived one minute ago,” she replied, “Just in time to buy the book.”’
“Oh, I’m sorry you missed the event.” I said.
“It’s Ok,” she said. “I’ve been attending your event every year since I was a child. 20 years to be exact,” she said.
“Wow!” I said.
“I came this year simply to buy the Bhagavad Gita,” she continued. “Sorry it’s taken so long, but I’ve been thinking about what you say in your lectures and have concluded it’s time to get serious and study your philosophy. I’ve seen how it’s changed the lives of so many people I know.”
As Nandini and I joined the devotees walking to our cars and buses to return back to our base I said, “There’s a Sanskrit saying: phalena pariciyate, which means “Judge a thing by its result.” The fact that so many people are inspired to read Srila Prabhupada’s books as a result of our cultural presentation of Krsna consciousness is a sure sign of success. I pray His Divine Grace is looking favorably upon us.”
***********************
“Now in your temple you are distributing so many books and this is very, very encouraging to me. It is the perfect form of preaching. Follow the line laid down by Prahlada Maharaja and try to take everyone back home, back to Godhead. And this is done by distributing our literature. I am so much pleased upon each and every one of you for helping me this way to push on this great movement.”
[ Srila Prabhupada letter to disciple December 3, 1972 ]
“The Most Appropriate Plan”
August 23, 2019
Dearest Srila Prabhupada, Please accept my humble obeisances.All glories to you!
This year marks the 123rd anniversary of your appearance in this world. Somehow, by the causeless mercy of the Supreme Lord, I am connected to you through initiation as one of your spiritual sons. This can never be disputed in the chronicles of time because on December 10, 1971, you wrote the following to my temple president:
“I beg to acknowledge receipt of your letter dated November 22, 1971, along with beads and letters from several devotees at Detroit temple. I am very glad to accept these students as my duly initiated disciples and their names shall be as follows:
Brian Tibbitts / Indradyumna Das
Ilene Tibbitts / Krpamayi Dasi
Heidi Paeva / Hrisakti Dasi
“These are all very nice boys and girls and I have very much appreciated their attitudes of devotion and surrender as displayed in their letters to me. I have replied them under separate cover. Their beads, duly chanted [upon] by me, are sent under separate post.
“I hope this meets you in good health and cheerful mood,
“Your ever well wisher,
A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami”.
Srila Prabhupada, I consider December 10, 1971, the day you wrote to accept me as your disciple, to be my actual birthday, for it was on that day that I began my spiritual life in earnest. In a lecture in Vrindavan, you quoted a verse that corroborates this perspective:
janame janame sabe pita mata paya
krsna guru nahi mile baja hari ei
“Under ordinary circumstances one’s own father and mother are worshipable, but in every species one gets a father and mother. Far rarer is to get guru and Krsna. The spiritual master can bestow prema-bhakti to those who have attained his mercy; therefore he is the topmost father, mother and friend of everyone.”
[Srila Prabhupada lecture, September 9, 1975, Vrindavan. Verse quoted from Prema Vivarta, by Jagadananda Pandit]
Coincidentally, in that initiation letter you expressed your desire for Krsna conscious festivals to be held far and wide, a statement that planted a seed in my heart:
“I am pleased by your festival plan for the colleges all over the state. Actually, this roving sankirtan and college program is the most appropriate plan for spreading Krishna Consciousness and preaching. I have just received intimation from Rupanuga of a very large festival he is planning for Central Park. His conjecture is very nice and I want that many such festivals should be held in every city.”
You then gave a hint as to how to organize such festivals:
“I have one suggestion. Make a tent in that backyard garden to accommodate many guests and provide profuse prasadam to all.”
As the years went by, I often meditated on those instructions and worked on developing and expanding the idea of holding large outdoor festivals to “accommodate many guests” and “provide profuse prasadam to all.”
Srila Prabhupada, you will be very pleased to know that this year we distributed over 160,000 plates of delicious prasadam from our Food for Peace tent at the Polish Woodstock festival. That was as “profuse” as we could manage at this moment in history! I want to continue expanding on your desire to hold such festivals in as many cities as possible and I am confident I can do it, for inherent in the spiritual master’s instruction is the secret to success. You once said:
“I took that order of my spiritual master very seriously. But I did not think that I’ll have to do such and such thing. I was at that time a householder. But this is the arrangement of Krsna. If we strictly try to serve the spiritual master’s order, then Krsna will give us all facilities. That is the secret.”
[Purport on the CD entitled “Prayers to Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati”]
I am very happy doing this service for you, Srila Prabhupada, along with a dedicated team of disciples, friends and well-wishers. I cannot think of anything else I’d rather do. To be frank, I feel I am already back home in the spiritual world by doing this service. I was elated to read a comment recently by Srila Baladeva Vidyabhusana which confirmed my sentiment: he writes that the pastimes of Lord Caitanya are especially appreciable in the material world because of the dark backdrop of material existence which doesn’t exist in the spiritual world. He gives the example that when a diamond sits on a black cloth, its brilliance is more pronounced.
My dear lord and master! Though I know our goal is to go back home, back to Godhead, I am hesitant to ask for your blessings to go there when I have not adequately fulfilled your desire in this world for a “roving sankirtan party and festivals to be held in every city.” You clearly describe such outreach programs as “the most appropriate plan for spreading Krishna Consciousness and preaching.” Of course, all the programs you introduced are “most appropriate” for the people of this age. I feel so fortunate that on the day of my spiritual birth you gave a hint as to which one I could take up. I stand ready and willing to execute your plans for many births to come.
This sentiment is one I have imbibed from you, Srila Prabhupada, for you are the foremost of all preachers in this world. Just this morning I came across a purport in the Fourth Canto of Srimad Bhagavatam in which I felt you were speaking directly to me:
“After being initiated and receiving the orders of the spiritual master, the disciple should unhesitatingly think about the instructions or orders of the spiritual master and should not allow himself to be disturbed by anything else. This is also the verdict of Srila Visvanatha Cakravarti Thakur, who, while explaining a verse of Bhagavad-gita, points out that the order of the spiritual master is the life substance of the disciple. The disciple should not consider whether he is going back home, back to Godhead; his first business should be to execute the order of his spiritual master. Thus a disciple should always meditate on the order of the spiritual master, and that is perfectional meditation. Not only should he meditate upon that order, but he should find out the means by which he can perfectly worship and execute it.”
[Srimad Bhagavatam, 4.24.15 purport]
Surely it will take many lifetimes to implement “such festivals in every city,” especially now in the age of Kali. But whatever challenges there are, whatever austerities are involved and whatever inconveniences I might suffer, these are a small price to pay for the precious and incomparable gifts you have bestowed upon me in this lifetime. Each morning upon waking and each night before resting, I slowly repeat the following verse which serves to remind me of all you have bestowed upon me:
nama-srestham manum api saci-putram atra svarupam
rupam tasya grajam uru-purim mathurim gosthavatim
radha-kundam giri-varam aho radhika-madhavasam
prapto yasya prathita-krpaya sri-gurum tam nato’ smi
“I bow down to the beautiful lotus feet of my spiritual master, by whose causeless mercy I have obtained the supreme holy name, the divine mantra, the service of the son of Sacimata, the association of Srila Svarupa Damodara, Rupa Goswami and his older brother Sanatana Goswami, the supreme abode of Mathura, the blissful abode of Vrindavan, the divine Radha Kunda and Govardhan Hill and the desire within my heart for the loving service of Sri Radhika and Madhava in Vrindavan.”
[Srila Raghunatha Dasa Goswami, Sri Mukta Carita]
Srila Prabhupada, my prayer is that the very same verse will be on my lips when I close my eyes for the last time in this life, and that it will manifest again within my heart of hearts when I open my eyes for the first time in my next life—wherever that may be in our good Lord’s creation.
My dear spiritual master! Please never leave me! May I always remain by your side, birth after birth, as your traverse the fourteen worlds, flooding them with the ecstasy of Krsna consciousness. Like your own spiritual master, you are an ocean of compassion. In glorification of him you once said:
“Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati Thakura came into this world to execute the mission of Caitanya Mahaprabhu. So he executed it and when it was required, he left this place and went to another place to do the same business.”
[Lecture on the appearance day of Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati, February 8, 1977]
Srila Prabhupada, I am prepared to join you wherever you go in service to your spiritual master! But should you return to Goloka while I remain here, I am confident that you will not forget me. My connection to you is through the service you wrote about in my initiation letter: to hold large events in the “central parks” of as many cities as there are on the face of the earth. When that great task is done—and done well—I will look up to the sky and say, “Your order has been fulfilled, my dear master. Pray tell me, what is your next command?” Perhaps at that time, you will appear, and taking me by the hand, lead me on to Sri Vrindavan Dhama in the spiritual sky. You wrote in a letter to a godbrother of mine:
“My dear Brahmananda, regarding your request for your deliverance from the clutches of Maya, please rest assured of being delivered. So far as I am concerned in relationship with my disciples who are so kindly cooperating with me in the matter of my rendering service to my spiritual master, for them I am always ready to come back from Goloka Vrindavan if they are not delivered along with me. So don’t be worried about the clutches of Maya. Be fixed up in your determination and go on serving the Supreme Lord, Krishna, with determination as you are already doing.”
[Srila Prabhupada letter to Brahmananda, November 15, 1969]
The older I get, Srila Prabhupada, the more I feel your personal presence in my life. When I was younger, it was merely a point of philosophy that the departed spiritual preceptor continues guiding the disciple. Now in my old age, as I accept more and more responsibilities on your behalf, that philosophical point has matured into the blissful realization that you are guiding me at every step. You confirmed this many years ago. One of my godbrothers wrote to you:
“My dear Srila Prabhupada, please accept my humble obeisances at your divine lotus feet. We fervently pray that Your Divine Grace continues to remain in this world because we need your personal guidance. Even when Lord Krsna disappeared, Arjuna lost all strength temporarily.”
You replied:
“I shall remain your personal guide, physically present or not physically, as I am getting personal guidance from my Guru Maharaja.”
[ Letter to a disciple, Vrindavan, July 14, 1977]
O savior of the fallen souls, let me put aside these noble sentiments for now so that the tears of joy they bring forth from my eyes do not disturb my service to you. A letter has just arrived on my desk with an invitation to do a festival in Ukraine. This is “a conjecture,” as you put it in my initiation letter, that will certainly prove “very nice.” I pray to always maintain the same “attitude of devotion and surrender as displayed” in my original letter to you, so that I may develop all the good qualities necessary to fulfill your every order.
samadi satka prada vaibhavabhyam
subhakta dana vrata diksitabhyam
ramadhavanghri sthira bhaktidabhyam
namo namah sri guru padukabhyam
“I offer obeisances to the two shoes of my guru, which are initiated in the vow of giving beautiful devotional realizations to the disciple, which bestow fixed devotion unto the feet of the husband of Laksmidevi and which bestow all good qualities unto the disciple.”
[Guru-paduka stotram, verse 7]
In the dust of your lotus feet,
Your servant,
Indradyumna Swami
“These Golden Days”
September 3, 2019
I nodded off to sleep on the way to one of our last summer festivals along the Baltic Sea coast in Poland. I woke just as Guru Kripa dasa was parking behind our large Ratha Yatra chariot at the festival site.
“I’m so tired I don’t even know what town we’re in,” I said, laughing.
“The name of the town isn’t so important,” said Guru Kripa. “What’s significant is that this is our forty-sixth festival of the summer!”
“Forty-six festivals, one after another,” I thought. “And with Woodstock in the middle. No wonder I’m exhausted.”
But there was no time to dwell on the tiredness of my body. Hundreds of excited people were already taking their seats on the benches in front of our stage. The restaurant was packed with guests ordering prasadam. Numerous tents depicting various aspects of the Krsna conscious lifestyle were overflowing.
“If it wasn’t for Nandini dasi,” I said to Guru Kripa, “none of this would be happening today.”
“How’s that?” he asked.
I told him how some high-placed people on the political right convinced the local mayor and the city council to cancel our festival on the grounds that we make too much noise. They requested Nandini to come to their weekly meeting so that they could officially inform her and cancel the contract. Despondent, but eager to argue our case, she drove to the town hall on the day of the meeting. In the parking lot, she happened to see the previous mayor who had been in power for many years and was an old friend of hers. She asked for his advice on how to handle the situation.
“My advice?” he said. “I’m going in with you!”
The previous mayor was a powerful orator and he spoke in our defense for thirty minutes in front of the city council. Nandini didn’t say a word, and neither did the city councilors who sat looking thoroughly chastened. When he finished, he picked up the contract and waved it in the air.
“It still stands,” he said. “Are we all in agreement?”
The city councilors nodded.
As he and Nandini were leaving the room, he said over his shoulder, “And what’s more, you should all come to the festival. It’s one of the most prestigious events we hold in our town each year. It’s an honor to host this event.”
There were no further complications with the festival; everything had been running smoothly since then. Today, although it rained for half an hour at one point during the Ramayana play, no one left the benches; instead, a forest of umbrellas—big ones, small ones, colorful ones, patterned ones—popped up and the people stayed where they were. Then the rain stopped, the sun peeked out from behind the departing clouds, and the umbrellas came down. No one missed even a moment of the drama!
The actors, though, couldn’t take shelter under umbrellas. Despite the rain on the stage, they kept up their performance, and they had been performing for two months straight whether it was windy or rainy or hot. They were real troopers!
As the play ended my cell phone buzzed to signal a text message. It was from a godbrother I had never met who had been watching the theater live-view. His comments were not at all complimentary: he complained that we were using modern dance and ballet, that the music was not traditional and that we had left out significant parts of the Ramayana. He concluded that Srila Prabhupada would never approve of our presentation. I thought about writing back to say how innovation is necessary in presenting Krsna consciousness as time goes on, but I didn’t want to get into a protracted argument. I didn’t have much energy left after the exertion of the summer, and I preferred to use what little time remained to push on the last few days of the tour. Yet, I did want to defend the devotees who had sacrificed so much during the summer. So I quickly texted back a famous quote by Theodore Roosevelt:
“It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming. But one who does actually strive to do the deeds, who knows great enthusiasms and great devotions, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
I got up to walk around the festival. I mistakenly bumped into an older man.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “Please excuse me.”
“No need to excuse yourself,” he said. “It gives me a chance to finally speak to you.”
“Oh, you wanted to speak to me?” I said.
“Yes,” he said. “I was 54 when I first came across your festival. I’m 84 now. I can attest to the fact that you’ve been holding this festival for 30 years.”
“You don’t look 84!” I said.
“Of course not,” he said. “I took to heart what you said in the first lecture I heard you give. I gave up eating meat, fish and eggs. I started practicing yoga and I read the Bhagavad Gita every day. And I sing the song too!”
“You mean the Hare Krsna song?” I asked.
“Is there any other song worth singing?” he replied with a grin.
“No, no. You’re right,” I said, secretly wishing I had the same conviction he seemed to possess.
“We have to sing it because someday we’ll die,” he continued. “In the fourth lecture I heard you give, you said that we can’t take anything with us when we die, except our love of God. And you said God is present in His name.”
“Yes, I do say that,” I said. “Where do you plan to go when you die?” I instantly felt sorry, thinking it might be an inappropriate question to ask someone I had just met.
“With him.” He pointed to the actor who had played Lord Ramacandra and who was posing for photos with guests. “But up there!” He pointed to the sky. “Being with Krsna would be ok too!” he added.
The hair on my arms stood up as I watched him walk away.
“We know that old man,” a teenage girl said. She was standing nearby with her friend, both of them wearing saris. “We see him here every year. Sometimes during the theater performance, he cries.”
“I see,” I said, feeling overwhelmed. Fortunately, the other girl changed the subject.
“We just picked out our favorite saris in the fashion booth. They said we could keep them. We plan to wear them to school this coming semester.”
“Really?” I said. “Can you do that?”
“Yes,” she said. “If we wear saris to school, all the other girls will start wearing them. And if all the girls in our school start wearing them, then girls in other schools will also start wearing them. We plan to start a new fashion in Poland.”
“That sounds like a bit of a challenge,” I said.
“Not really,” said the first girl. “We’re beautiful and so are the saris. Just wait and see.”
“Sure, I’ll wait and see,” I said with a smile.
I decided to check out the book tent, but I had only gone 20 meters when a man came up to me and placed a Bhagavad Gita in my hand.
“Can you sign this for my wife?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said. “Should I include your name too?”
“Don’t bother,” he said. “I’m not interested. Every year my wife drags me to this event and before we leave, she asks me to buy her a Bhagavad Gita. I always refuse and we argue about it for the rest of our vacation. So, I finally agreed to buy it for her. Hopefully I’ll get some peace now and be able to enjoy my vacation.”
“Well, you made the right choice,” I said, handing the book back to him. “Finding peace of mind and real happiness are two of the themes in the Bhagavad Gita.”
Just outside the book tent, another man approached me.
“I heard you talk in another town this summer,” he said. “I bought a Bhagavad Gita afterwards. I’ve been reading it for two weeks. As a result I’ve made a firm resolution.”
“Interesting,” I said. “What resolution are you thinking of making?”
He stood up a little straighter and his voice took on a slightly official tone. “I am going to put it in my will that all generations of my family who come after me will be obliged to read this book before they reach 20 years of age. I already mentioned it to my lawyer.”
A teenage girl came up to the man with a Bhagavad Gita in her hands.
“Papa, I want my own copy! And I want the man to sign it.”
Her father hesitated. They were not well-dressed, so perhaps they couldn’t afford it.
“Papa!” she insisted. “Today is the celebration of the ascension, when the Virgin Mary goes back to heaven. My name is Maria. It only makes sense that you buy the book for me today. Ave Maria!”
Her father still seemed to hesitate.
“Look,” I said, “because this is such a special day, a holy day, I’m just going to give you this book, Maria. It’s yours now. You just take it.”
Hearing this, she burst into tears, and then her father started crying too. I felt my own eyes well up with tears of appreciation for the mercy of Lord Caitanya in making Krsna consciousness so accessible to people.
One of the more popular theaters, a drama we call “The Bhagavatam,” was starting on the stage, so I turned back to the benches. The play centers on Maharaja Pariksit’s deliverance, and its theme is the art of dying. In the last scene, one of the performers comes down off the stage and presents the First Canto of Srimad Bhagavatam to someone in the audience. As the devotee descended the stairs, I motioned to her to give the book to one middle-aged woman who had sat mesmerized throughout the entire performance. The lady was overwhelmed by the gift and started crying.
“This festival is a real tear-jerker tonight,” I thought.
The woman with the book came over to me. “I saw you directed that actor to me,” she said.
“Well, yes I did…” I said.
“But how did you know?” Tears were streaming down her face. “How did you know?”
“How did I know what?” I asked.
“Today is my 40th birthday,” she said. “I am all alone. My family – my husband and children – have all passed away. I woke up this morning asking God to give me a sign that He is still here for me. I prayed for Him to give me the knowledge I need to not give in to depression and to go forward in life. Then this afternoon I got an invitation to your festival, and in the theater, I found so much comfort and hope. And then you directed the actor to give me this book!”
She paused. “How did you know?” she asked softly.
“The Lord is in everyone’s heart and He alone knows our deepest desires,” I said. “I am happy I could act as His instrument.”
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” she said. “This has been a life-changing experience for me.”
“For me too,” I said.
As she walked away, I thought about the recipients of Lord Caitanya’s mercy I had encountered that night. “No doubt these are the modern-day pastimes of Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu,” I pondered. “He seems to always send the right people at the right time. I am so blessed to be witnessing this.”
Then I remembered a song I used to sing every day as I went out to distribute books in the 1970s and 80s. It seemed to perfectly illustrate that woman’s search for meaning in her life:
There is a light coming down from the face
Of the beautiful Lord
Far beyond outer space
So radiant and bright
Shining perfectly clear
Descending in glory
Removing all fear
Once in the night I did wander in pain
Praying for sunrise to see Him again
Then from great height
Came a vision of grace
Your causeless mercy
From a transcendent place
There is a light coming down from the face
Of the beautiful Lord far beyond outer space
Oh grant me my sight
Let me stand in the rain
Of your rainbow of love
The eternal refrain
Om Namo Bhagavate Vasudevaya!
[“There is a Light,” by Jeffery Armstrong and Michael Cassidy]
After the final kirtan of the night, there was an older woman waiting for me at the bottom of the stage steps.
“Do you remember me?” she said.
“Yes, of course!” I said. “You were the mayor in this town 15 years ago. You fought off all the opposition so we could have our festivals here.”
“Yes,” she replied with a smile. “You had many enemies back then.”
“We certainly did,” I said. “But you stood up for us. And we always won.”
“Yes,” she said, with a touch of nostalgia. “It was a good fight.”
Again, tears came to my eyes. “I’m such a cry-baby tonight,” I thought. Aloud I said, “Thank you for coming this evening! You still remember us.”
“How could I forget you?” she said. She held up one of her hands. “You gave me this ring one day after we defeated a particularly difficult opponent. You told me it was worn by your God who gives protection. And it seems it has worked. All my friends have passed away, but I am standing.”
“Jaya Nrsimhadeva,” I said under my breath.
“We are here only because you safeguarded our mission,” I told her.
“I hope to see you again next year,” she said as we parted ways.
“It’s been an extraordinary festival,” I said to Guru Kripa, as we got in the van.
He smiled and replied, “You say that after every festival, Gurudeva. In fact, you’ve said it 46 times this summer so far.”
“That’s true,” I admitted. “These are golden days. I don’t know how we’re going to survive after our last festival three days from now. How will we all bear separation from these magical events? Where else can one see the causeless mercy of Lord Caitanya continuously day after day after day?”
We both fell silent and remained so for the one-hour drive back to our base.
******************
“The fortunate town of Navadvipa remains on the earth. The seashore remains. The city of Jagannatha Puri remains. The holy names of Lord Krsna remain. Alas! Alas! I do not see anywhere the same kind of festival of pure love for Lord Hari. O Lord Caitanya, O ocean of mercy, will I ever see Your transcendental glory again?”
[Srila Prabhodananda Sarasvati, Caitanya Candramrita, Chapter 12 – Verse 140]
“Fortune in Misfortune”
January 23, 2020
My dear spiritual master, Srila Prabhupada,
Please accept my most humble obeisances. All glories to you!
This letter was originally written as a private offering to you, but these days my life is an open book. Because I act as your representative in all that I do, I want to open my heart and share with you the realizations I have gained while dealing with two of life’s greatest challenges: old age and disease. In making this private offering public, I also hope to instruct my own disciples, your spiritual grandchildren, who I’ve taken under my wing on your command.
When I was younger, I would preach with strong conviction about the “perception of the evil of birth, death, old age and disease” that Lord Krsna describes in Bhagavad Gita (13.9). However, I must admit that I had little realization of those unpleasant features of material existence. Only now, when I myself am old and diseased, do I realize the stark reality of those miseries. There’s a saying: “The hardest lessons are the ones best learned.”
Albert Einstein wrote about the value of personal experience in learning. “I never teach my students,” he famously said. “I only attempt to provide the conditions in which they can learn.”
Because I know without a doubt that you watch over and protect me, I am sure that you are aware that the most dreaded disease, cancer, has attacked me not once or twice, but now a third time. We say, “third time lucky,” but it was certainly not luck that the silent killer raised its ugly head again. It can only be the result of my previous sins or the sins of others I have willingly taken upon my head. But I want you to know, Srila Prabhupada, that I have accepted all the pain, anxiety and the discomfort I’ve experienced as the Lord’s causeless mercy upon me. It was Queen Kunti who gave all vaisnavas the proper understanding of misfortune:
vipadah santu tah sasvat
tatra tatra jagad-guro
bhavato darsanam yat syad
apunar bhava-darsanam
“I wish that all those calamities would happen again and again so that we could see You again and again, for seeing You means that we will no longer see repeated births and deaths.” [Srimad Bhagavatam 1.8.25]
Though my suffering has been minimal compared to that endured by Queen Kunti, it is unsettling (to say the very least) to be on death’s doorstep. After my five-hour surgical operation and several days in the intensive care unit, my doctor said, “Swami, you’ve clearly used up your nine lives. Keep your fingers crossed from now on, just in case.”
But I don’t have to cross my fingers, Srila Prabhupada, because I’m confident of your protection and the Lord’s too. You once wrote to me that you always felt your spiritual master was watching over and protecting you. I feel the same. Yesterday, in a moment of despair due to complications arising from my surgery, I prayed to you for a sign that you’re still there. I hoped you would appear to me in a dream as you have in the past. Of course, in 1968 you wrote in a letter to Rayarama dasa that “dreams are nonsense.” Nevertheless, your disciple Hayagriva dasa once reminisced:
“I remember Swamiji telling me that although most dreams are simply functions of the mind, dreams of the spiritual master are of spiritual significance.” [Srila Prabhupada Lilamrita, Volume 2]
Srila Prabhupada, last night my prayers were answered, and I dreamt of you again! You were visiting a devotee community somewhere in Europe, but the facilities were not adequate. As devotees were discussing how to improve things I went to your room and cleaned and arranged everything very nicely. In the late evening, I found you walking in a nearby garden and I brought you to your room and helped you settle into bed. I sang a bhajan as you drifted off to sleep and stayed up all night sitting in a chair next to you in case you woke up and needed anything. As the sun rose the next morning, you opened your eyes and seeing me sitting there you smiled and said softly, “Thank you very much.”
I take that dream seriously, Srila Prabhupada. You once wrote to my godbrother Sudama dasa, who was trying to start a temple in Tokyo: “Actually, I was thinking of you from London, and by the grace of Krsna my anxiety was televisioned to you in your dream.” [Letter, January 8, 1970]
Srila Prabhupada, last night’s dream has given me even greater inspiration to overcome the difficulties I am presently encountering in regaining my health and returning to the preaching field as your soldier in the war with maya. The preaching field is where my heart is. It is where I belong. You indicated the same in your letter to Sudama:
“So Krsna is very kind upon us, and His kindness will be more exhibited the more we expand this Krsna Consciousness Movement. Take it as a fact, there is no question of doubting this statement, the whole world is in need of Krsna Consciousness. Krsna inspired my Guru Maharaja, and He inspired me, and I am trying to inspire you all because Krsna wants it.”
Srila Prabhupada, I’m grateful for all the challenges that have come with my ill health for the realizations I’ve gained far exceed the pain and discomfort I’ve endured. In your books, you often speak of the frailties of material existence and how there is no shelter in this world save and except Krsna. You write that we must tolerate the miseries of this world, while not being deterred in our services. Lord Brahma says the same in the famous verse:
tat te ’nukampam su-samiksamano
bhunjana evatma-krtam vipakam
hrd-vag-vapurbhir vidadhan namas te
jiveta yo mukti-pade sa daya-bhak
“My dear Lord, one who earnestly waits for You to bestow Your causeless mercy upon him, all the while patiently suffering the reactions of his past misdeeds and offering You respectful obeisances with his heart, words and body, is surely eligible for liberation, for it has become his rightful claim.” [Srimad Bhagavatam 10.14.8]
In your purport to this verse, you quote Srila Sridhara Swami who states that by just remaining alive and following the rules and regulations of Krsna consciousness, one becomes eligible to go back to Godhead.
It is certainly my good fortune to be alive. The doctors caught my cancer before it could spread to other parts of my body. At 70 years of age I’m in the twilight of my life. The writing is on the wall. But for the most part the inscriptions are positive. Now, each day I awake and thank Krsna for another day of service to you. Each time I pick up my japa beads I savor the holy names like never before. Every word, every sentence, every paragraph of your books now acts as a divine elixir relieving me of the struggle of material existence and giving me more hope that I will achieve the ultimate goal in this very life. Now every moment is like gold.
So, let these calamities come again and again for by seeing them I have come closer to you. And by coming nearer to you, I have come closer to Krsna and to the privilege of assisting you one day in your eternal service to Him in the spiritual world, far beyond the dualities of birth and death.
In closing, let me quote you, for your words are the choicest in illuminating everything in this world and the next:
“This material world is certified by the Lord in the Bhagavad-gita as a dangerous place full of calamities. The duty of the sane person, therefore, is to be undisturbed by worldly calamities, which are sure to happen in all circumstances. Suffering all sorts of unavoidable misfortunes, one should make progress in spiritual realization because that is the mission of human life. If someone is lucky enough to get in contact with the Lord by devotional service, it is all gain. Contact with the Lord by any one of the nine devotional services is always a forward step on the path going back to Godhead.” [Purport, Srimad Bhagavatam 1.8.25]
Forever your servant,
Indradyumna Swami
“These Are All Krsna’s Arrangements”
January 31, 2020
I was on my morning walk on the beach in Durban, South Africa, last week when my cell phone rang.
“Hey, Maharaja. This is Craig! Craig from high school!”
“Wow, Craig! I can’t even remember the last time we were in touch! How are you doing?”
“Just fine,” he replied. “I heard through the grapevine that you’re recovering from a big surgery and I just wanted to call and wish you well.”
“Thanks a lot, Craig. That’s very kind of you,” I said. “Hey, I’m curious. How did you get my number?”
“I met a few of your students here in California,” he said. “And I follow you on Facebook too. You’ve done well for yourself!”
“Well, thanks,” I said.
“Remember way back in 1969? I predicted who your guru would be. And it all came true!” he said.
“That’s true, you did predict it,” I said. We both laughed.
“Well, get better, my friend,” he said. “And let’s keep in closer touch.”
“Yes,” I said. “Let’s do that.”
Craig had reminded me of a defining moment in my life. Overwhelmed with emotion, I sat down on a bench. I looked out at the ocean and, wondering at the mysterious ways of the Lord, I thought back to that moment.
On leave from the United States Marine Corps for a month in July 1969, I was living with six of my friends in a rented house in my hometown of Kentfield, California. One evening the phone rang.
“Hey, Steve,” one of the guys called out, “get the phone, will you?”
“Man, I’m watching the Beverly Hillbillies,” Steve yelled back. “No way I’m getting up!”
“I’ll get it,” said Jonny in a resigned voice. He put his beer down and dragged himself off the sofa and into the kitchen. “The darn phone rings all day long, and it’s never for me.”
Sure enough: “It’s for you Brian,” he called to me.
“Who is it?”
“Dunno, I didn’t ask,” Jonny said. “But the guy sounds official.”
“Thanks, man,” I said, taking the receiver from him. Into the phone I said,
“Hello, this is Brian. Can I help you?”
“Is this Lance Corporal Tibbitts?” said a commanding voice. I immediately realized it was a Marine Corps official.
“Sir, yes sir! It’s me.”
“The captain of the local duty station is requesting that you come to see him at zero-eight-hundred tomorrow morning,” he said.
“What’s it about?” I asked.
“That’s classified, soldier.”
“Sure. Ok,” I said. “I’ll be there.”
The next morning, I arrived in full uniform at the Marine Corps center on Madison Ave in San Rafael at 8 am. I knew where it was because I had signed up for the Corps there three years earlier. The captain was a serious-looking man in his 60s; he directed me to a chair in front of his imposing desk.
“Lance Corporal Tibbitts, thank you for coming in,” he said. “I have the report of your meeting with the naval doctors last week in Oakland.”
“Yes, sir,” I said nervously.
“Son,” he said, “on the advice of those physicians, we’re discharging you from the Corps, effective immediately. An honorable discharge.”
I felt my stomach drop. “But why?” I blurted out. “I thought I was on my way to Vietnam!”
“Well, according to the report, you joined the Corps with eight of your high school friends. Correct?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied. “All guys from my high school football team.”
“And when your unit shipped out to Vietnam, you were ordered to stay back for advanced weaponry training. Yes?”
“Yes, sir. Underwater demolition.”
“And then you served stateside for some time?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And while you were stateside, your platoon came under heavy artillery and rocket fire during the Tet Offensive. And all your friends were killed. Correct?”
“Yes, sir,” I said in a quiet voice.
“The doctors have determined that that’s had a major effect on you,” the captain said. “We don’t deem you fit for combat.”
“But I’m over it,” I said in a bigger voice. “I’m ready to go.”
“Not according to what I have here in front of me,” he said, tapping the pages on his desk. “Your father’s deceased?”
“Yes, sir. Last year.”
“It says here he was on the aircraft carrier USS Cabot in WWII in the South Pacific. Says that he was injured and that he received a purple heart.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, surprised. “He saw action there. It was his dying wish that I join the armed forces.”
“Has your mother remarried?” the captain asked.
“No, sir.”
“Are you helping her out financially?”
“Yes sir, I am.”
“Son, we’ve taken all that into consideration. Your discharge papers will be mailed to you within a week.”
“But sir…”
“That will be all, soldier.”
“But I’m not a soldier anymore,” I said, standing up.
“You gave a few good years to your country,” he said. “You can be proud of that.”
When I got back to the house, I shared the news with my friends. They all jumped up and down for joy, but I was despondent.
“Come on, man!” Steve said. “Be happy! You know how many guys wish they could get out of going to the war in Vietnam?”
“You know my story, Steve,” I said. “Harvey, Jerry, Paul, and all the others died in combat while I was stateside. They’re gone and I’m still here. I don’t feel good about that.”
The mood in the room changed suddenly. Craig, the most spiritual of my friends, spoke up.
“Everyone has their karma, Brian,” he said. “Try not to feel guilty. Karma is a law of nature. What you do, good or bad, comes back to you. It wasn’t your time to die then, and it isn’t your time now either.”
“Whatever,” I said.
I walked down to the corner church and sat awkwardly in the pews with folded hands.
“I can’t remember ever having come into a church,” I said out loud. I wasn’t sure who to talk to, so I directed my words toward the cross on the altar. “My parents weren’t religious, and I guess neither am I. But what can I say God? I’m struggling with a few issues and, honestly, I don’t know who to turn to. If you’re there, if you’re real, can you give me a sign? Some direction?”
It was quiet in the church. I sat a few minutes and when nothing happened, I stood up and left, grabbing one of the free bibles at the entrance on the way out.
I wandered into a local alternative bookstore. Browsing through the section on eastern philosophy, I picked out a book I thought might help. It was called The Tibetan Book of The Dead.
I stopped in a park on the way back to the house and read the first few chapters. I was confronted with an idea totally foreign to me: the theory of reincarnation, the idea that there is life after death.
“It helps a little if you believe in reincarnation, I guess,” I thought. “If it’s true, it means the guys are probably doing OK somewhere else.”
When I finally got back to the house, Craig was sitting on a couch waiting for me. He could see I was upset even without me saying a word. Craig was like a big brother to me. Tall, freckled and with a full head of red hair, he stood out in a crowd. He had done well in school until the drug culture hit and he had started missing classes. Intelligent and inquisitive by nature, he had recently started showing an interest in Indian philosophy.
“Hey Brian, Billy saw you go into the church,” he said. “How about we sit and have a talk? How are you?”
“I just don’t know where to turn from here,” I confessed.
“I think you should look to the East,” he said. “Like India. The Beatles went there. They stayed in an ashram for a few weeks. Look, yesterday I was in San Francisco, in the Haight Ashbury, visiting some friends. Someone gave me an invitation to a big event that’s happening tomorrow in Golden Gate Park.”
“Yeah, what kind of event?”
“It’s a big parade with a gigantic chariot from India,” he said. “A spiritual gathering. People dress up like in India. They’re gonna sing songs and burn incense. Stuff like that. It’s the talk of Haight Ashbury. All the hippies in San Francisco are going.”
“What’s it all about?” I asked.
“I’m not completely sure,” Craig said. “But there’s going to be a vegetarian feast at the end, so I’m going. You wanna come with me? It’s free!”
“I guess so,” I said. “I don’t really feel like going to a big celebration, but I guess I’ll go if you’re going”.
“Hey, but it’s not just a celebration,” Craig said. “Maybe you can find the answers you’re looking for.”
“Yeah, sure. OK,” I said. “Where shall I meet you?”
“I’ll meet you at the event,” Craig replied. “Just drive over Golden Gate Bridge and take the second exit into the park. We can meet at noon next to the big chariot.”
The next morning, I got up late and rushed through the traffic towards Golden Gate Bridge, which was an hour from where we lived. There a long line of stationary cars backed up for at least half a mile at the tollgate.
“Reports are just coming in of a bad accident on Golden Gate Bridge,” the newsreader announced on the radio. “The California Highway Patrol says to expect a delay of several hours.”
I gave up after two hours. “Must be my karma,” I thought, remembering Craig’s explanation for unfortunate reversals.
The next day Craig came bursting into the kitchen where I was having breakfast.
“Hey Brian,” he said. “What happened, man? I looked for you everywhere at the parade yesterday.”
“Sorry,” I said “there was an accident on the bridge. I waited for hours and just gave up.”
“Man, you really missed out,” Craig said. “It was far out! There were literally thousands of people. The chariot was huge! We all pulled it through the park on ropes for three miles down to the beach. Then we had a feast of rice pudding, fruit salad, and sugar balls. The food was so delicious! But you know what impressed me the most?”
“What?” I said.
“The guru,” he said. “He’s the spiritual teacher of the people who organized the event. He’s from India. He rode on the chariot with statues of their gods. His speech in the Family Dog Auditorium was super cool. He began by telling us he was going to sing a song by an Indian holy man who lived 450 years ago. Then he explained the song. It was something about an incarnation of God who lived 500 hundred years ago. At the end, he encouraged us to sing, dance and eat the food.”
“Wow. Sorry I missed it,” I said.
“Yes, but listen to this,” Craig said. “I was thinking of you as he spoke. Everything he said seemed to resonate with who you are. I mean, he was talking about finding the answers to the questions of life. And how we’re struggling in this world but that there’s a spiritual way out. Stuff like that. And when he said his practice includes singing and dancing, I thought, ‘Yeah, that’s Brian when he’s doing good.’ Because you like to sing and dance. And you know what?”
“What?”
“I’m convinced he’s your guru. I mean seriously, man. One day you’re gonna be his student!”
“No way, Craig,” I said. “I’m not even looking for a guru.”
“I get it,” he said. “But if you ever do want a guru, he will be your guru. Believe me. I’m gonna write down his name for you.”
Tearing off a piece of newspaper that was lying on the couch, he wrote down each letter of the guru’s name and handed it to me. “They call him Srila Prabhupada,” he said.
I took the scrap of paper and crammed it into a pocket in my jeans. That night before going to sleep I emptied out my pockets onto my bed and found the piece of paper. I stuffed it into the cover of my Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band record album by the Beatles.
For a few weeks, I mused over Craig’s advice that I look to the East for the answer as to why my friends died in the war and I didn’t. My discharge from the Marine Corps, though honorable, also weighed heavily on my mind. I finally decided to leave the house I was living in with my friends, leave California, and leave the United States altogether.
“For now, I’ll go to Europe and experience different countries and different cultures. I’ll meet all kinds of people. Maybe I’ll find some answers to my questions,” I thought.
In September 1969, I boarded a flight for Europe with a friend. We visited England, Denmark, France, Germany and Greece. We were still unfulfilled, so we went on to Turkey, Egypt and Lebanon. I started thinking of going on further to India when unforeseen circumstances forced me to return to the USA. Upon my return, I got married and, with my wife started to follow Craig’s advice in earnest by attending lectures of various yogis and spiritual teachers who themselves had traveled from India with their teachings.
Then, as fate would have it, in December 1970, my wife and I chanced upon a small group of men who seemed to be monks. They were dressed in flowing saffron robes and were singing and dancing on the main lawn of the campus of the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor where I was working as a gardener. A large group of 200 or so students had gathered around them. When the singing stopped, one of the monks stepped forward to speak.
“Thank you, boys and girls,” he said in a clear and joyful voice. “This chanting of the Hare Krsna mantra is a transcendental sound vibration coming down from the spiritual world.”
The students started drifting away. After a few minutes there were only a few remaining. But I stood dumbfounded by the whole experience, captivated by the young monk’s presence and by the atmosphere they had created. The young monk came over to me.
“My name is Visnujana Swami,” he said. “What’s yours?”
“Brian,” I said. “Tell me more about what you’re doing. Tell me about Krsna.”
“First let tell you first about my guru,” he said. “One can only understand Krsna by the mercy of the spiritual master.”
“Who is your guru?” I asked.
“His name is Srila Prabhupada,” he replied.
The name was familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why. It rang a bell and awakened a deep emotion I couldn’t understand.
We sat and the swami spoke about Srila Prabhupada for well over an hour. When he finished, he asked me, “So what do you think?”
“Can he be my spiritual master too? Can I be his disciple like you?” I asked.
It wasn’t long before I was. My wife and I moved into the nearby Hare Krsna temple and, within a year, I was an initiated disciple of His Divine Grace Srila AC Bhaktivedanta Swami, affectionately known to his disciples and followers as Srila Prabhupada.
I had long forgotten the short exchange I had had with my friend Craig after he saw Srila Prabhupada at the chariot festival in San Francisco. But ten years after joining the movement, I went to visit my mother in California where I went through some of my old possessions which I had left with her when I went to Europe. When I picked up my Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band record album a tiny yellow piece of newspaper fell out from the cover. Picking it up, I saw Srila Prabhupada’s name scribbled in Craig’s handwriting on it. Suddenly, everything came back to me and I broke into tears.
I marveled at how the Lord orchestrates for His devotees to come to Krsna consciousness and at how He had arranged for me to meet and take shelter of my eternal spiritual master, Srila Prabhupada. I could only conclude that such arrangements are not of this world.
Srila Prabhupada has said the same:
“Today is the disappearance day of my Guru Maharaja. I was born in a different family, my Guru Maharaja was born in a different family. Who knew that I would come to his protection? Who knew that I would go to America? Who knew that you American boys would come to me? These are all Krsna’s arrangements. We cannot understand how things are taking place.”
[Srila Prabhupada lecture on the disappearance of Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati Gosvami Maharaja, Los Angeles, December 9, 1968]
Vyasa Puja Offering 2020 – “Solitary Bhajan”
August 12, 2020
My dear Srila Prabhupada! Please accept my most humble obeisances in the dust of your lotus feet. All glories to you!
This year I have no tales to share with you of adventures in foreign lands, of festivals so grand that a million souls heard the holy names and tens of thousands took prasadam, or of your temples around the world where I was witness to your faithful followers’ preaching of your wonderous glories far and wide.
For exactly 50 years to the day, I have traversed this planet sharing your message of Krsna consciousness wherever I go and with whomever I meet. It was the joy of my life and I thought it would never end! Then suddenly the entire world came to a screeching halt, and I with it. From where I was stationed in Vrindavan, India, I watched in disbelief as an invisible foe forced the entire human race to their knees and a lockdown sent the world spiralling downwards like nothing within living memory.
But for all the chaos and confusion that has eclipsed the world, the worst outcome has been that the loud chanting of Krsna’s holy names has been muffled to a whisper. Usually resounding throughout the world, the names are now being chanted and heard only by isolated devotees huddled in front of computer screens. They watch the best of ISKCON’s kirtan leaders, often singing alone, with no call and response to enliven them.
As the world struggled with the viral pandemic, I, like every other human on the planet, was forced to adjust to a new reality. The driving force in my life has always been your instruction to me: “Preach boldly and have faith in the holy names.” While contemplating the alternatives for continuing my service from behind closed doors, I began searching for directives from your Divine Grace. How could I sit tight in Vrindavan for months – maybe even for years – and not become restless? Then I remembered an instruction you gave me in a letter in 1971: “Always follow in the footsteps of advanced devotees.”
Traditionally, Vrindavan is the place where advanced devotees retire to engage in solitary bhajan day in and day out with a fixed routine of basic hearing and chanting. Although you have many times warned that neophyte devotees should not leave their preaching services to engage in solitary bhajan, there appeared to be no alternative for me. Fortunately, I was aware of your purport in Srimad Bhagavatam where you actually invite your disciples to come to Vrindavan for the very purpose of advancing in Krsna consciousness:
“One must go to the Vrindavan forest and take shelter of Govinda. That will make one happy. The International Society for Krsna Consciousness is, therefore, constructing a Krsna-Balarama temple to invite its members as well as outsiders to come and live peacefully in a spiritual atmosphere. That will help one become elevated to the transcendental world and return home, back to Godhead.”
[ Srimad Bhagavatam 5.13.8 purport ]
To corroborate that the misfortune brought on by the pandemic could be converted into fortune through a lengthy stay in the dhama, I searched online for a lecture of yours that I attended in Geneva, Switzerland, on June 1st, 1974. None of us had been in the movement for more than a few years, but that morning you stressed we should all strive to become devotees of the highest caliber through adherence to serious sadhana. I vividly remember hearing you use the phrase “first-class devotee” that morning:
“Every one of you should become a pure devotee, a first-class devotee. In this age it has been made very easy. Simply keep yourself clean, do not indulge in the four prohibitions and chant Hare Krsna. Then you will be all first-class devotees …. The Hare Krsna mantra chanting means keeping Krsna always within your heart. Think that, ‘I have kept one diamond throne, a very costly throne because Krsna is coming. He will sit down here.’ Create such a situation within your heart. ‘Now Krsna has seated. Let me wash His feet with Ganges and Yamuna water. Now I will change His dress with first-class costly garments. Then I will decorate Him with ornaments. Then I will give Him food for eating.’ You can simply think of this. This is meditation. It is so easy.”
[ Srimad Bhagavatam class, Geneva, June 1st, 1974 ]
Of course, this was not the vision I had for myself when I reached my present age of 71 years. I had dreamt of continuing to travel and preach to my last breath, dying on the battlefield “with my boots on”, so to speak. But any doubts that remained about sitting tight in Vrindavan doing “solitary bhajan” were dispelled the next day when I chanced upon another one of your stellar purports in Srimad Bhagavatam:
“Thus Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati Thakur advocated that every devotee, under the guidance of an expert spiritual master, preach the Bhakti movement, Krishna Consciousness, all over the world. Only when one is mature can he sit in a solitary place and retire from preaching all over the world. Following this example, the devotees of the International Society for Krishna Consciousness now render service as preachers in various parts of the world. Now they can allow the spiritual master to retire from active preaching work. In the last stage of the spiritual master’s life, the devotees of the spiritual master should take the preaching activities into their own hands. In this way, the spiritual master can sit down in a solitary place and render nirjana-bhajan.”
[ Srimad Bhagavatam purport 4.28.33 ]
Within your words in this purport, there seemed to be some credence for my new-found fate. The very next day I started following a strict regime of rising early, chanting my rounds, doing my puja and memorizing Sanskrit verses. I began eating frugally only once a day. I cut my sleeping down to 4 or 5 hours a night and spent 10 -12 hours a day on studying. I began giving classes online 3 times a week for my disciples on the glories of Vrindavan dhama.
As the weeks turned into months, I felt I was making a little progress in coming closer to a goal – or rather a challenge – you had once given me to go “higher and higher” in Krsna consciousness in order to understand the deeper mellows of devotional service. At a darshan in New Mayapur, France on August 5, 1976, I asked you:
“Srila Prabhupada, you’ve mentioned several times in the recent lectures that a pure devotee can see Krsna everywhere – that He’s never out of your vision. And at the same time in Siksastakam prayers Lord Caitanya explains that ‘Govinda, I am feeling Your separation to be twelve years or more. I am feeling the world vacant in His absence.’ Could you explain this?”
You looked at me and replied:
“Yes. He’s praying how you can become mad without seeing Krsna. That is highest stage. It cannot be explained. But when you gradually go higher and higher you will understand.”
Srila Prabhupada, I’m ashamed to say that after so many years I have still not reached the goal. But I hope that one day I will truly understand how Lord Caitanya was “mad” in separation from Krsna! A similar emotion is expressed by Rupa Goswami:
“I have no love for Krsna, nor for the causes of developing love of Krsna – namely, hearing and chanting. And the process of bhakti-yoga, by which one is always thinking of Krsna and fixing His lotus feet in the heart, is also lacking in me. As far as philosophical knowledge or pious works are concerned, I don’t see any opportunity for me to execute such activities. But above all, I am not even born of a nice family. Therefore I must simply pray to You, Gopijana-vallabha [ Krsna, maintainer and beloved of the gopis ]. I simply wish and hope that some way or other I may be able to approach Your lotus feet, and this hope is giving me pain, because I think myself quite incompetent to approach that transcendental goal of life.”
[ Srila Rupa Goswami, quoted in Nectar of Devotion, Chapter 18 ]
And so I spend my time here in the abode of the Lord in thoughtful contemplation. There are days when I miss my colleagues, friends and disciples terribly! And Srila Prabhupada, I miss the people too. I really do; all those hundreds and thousands of inquisitive souls who graced our festivals year after year in Poland, America, Brazil, South Africa, Australia – the list goes on and on. Without them my life is empty, no matter what I do. I think it’s the hardest part of this situation. I pray to the Lord to watch over and protect them too. When I am affected by such feelings of empathy I remember your words, Srila Prabhupada, which give solace to my soul:
“Once when a cowherd boy named Vrsabha was collecting flowers from the forest to prepare a garland to be offered to Krsna, the sun reached its zenith, and although the sunshine was scorching hot, Vrsabha felt it to be like the moonshine. That is the way of rendering transcendental loving service to the Lord; when devotees are put into great difficulties –even like the Pandavas, as described above – they feel all their miserable conditions to be great facilities for serving the Lord.”
[ Nectar of Devotion, Chapter 42 ]
Srila Prabhupada, I’ll return to my studies now. I have a large pile of your books on the desk in front of me waiting to be read again and again as I pass this unusual time in “solitary bhajan.” But behind the books is a quotation in a frame on the wall that is very dear to my heart, a quotation that I glance at several times throughout the day and which inevitably causes a tear or two to fall from my eyes:
“The fortunate town of Navadvipa remains on the earth. The seashore remains. The city of Jagannatha Puri remains. The holy names of Lord Krsna remain. But alas, alas! I do not see anywhere the same kind of festival of pure love for Lord Hari. O Lord Caitanya, O ocean of mercy, will I ever see Your transcendental glory again?”
[ Srila Prabodhananda Sarasvati, Sri Caitanya-candramrita, Chapter 12 – Verse 140 ]
Forever your servant,
Indradyumna Swami
“Comrades-In-Arms”
September 13, 2020
My very dear godbrother Vaisesika Prabhu,
Please accept my most humble obeisances. All glories to Srila Prabhupada.
I want to begin by thanking your disciples for giving me this opportunity to acknowledge and glorify your service to our divine master, Srila Prabhupada, on this day of your appearance.
I hope you won’t feel uncomfortable with the praise I am about to offer you, my dear friend, for such praise is authorized. In acknowledging the good qualities of Prahlada Maharaja, Sri Narada Muni says in Srimad Bhagavatam 7.4.31:
dasavat sannataryanghrih
pitrvad dina-vatsalah
bhratrvat sadrse snigdho
gurusv isvara-bhavanah
“To respectable persons, he acted exactly like a menial servant, to the poor he was like a father, to his equals he was attached like a sympathetic brother, and he considered his teachers, spiritual masters and older godbrothers to be as good as the Supreme Personality of Godhead.”
I am older than you by eight years, but you are most certainly senior to me in your vision and experience in pushing forward the great samkirtan mission we have inherited from Srila Prabhupada. And it is for this very reason that you have received his special favor:
vettha tvam saumya tat sarvam
tattvatas tad-anugrahat
bruyuh snigdhasya sisyasya
guravo guhyam apy uta
“And because you are submissive, your spiritual masters have endowed you with all the favors bestowed upon a gentle disciple. Therefore you can tell us all that you have scientifically learned from them.”
[Srimad Bhagavatam 1.1.8]
I see you as my superior because of your unrivaled success in keeping the heartbeat of book distribution pumping long after Srila Prabhupada’s disappearance. Yet, I also have the good fortune to call you my friend. Better still, I consider us comrades-in-arms despite us fighting on different parts of the battlefield. I very much appreciate the Collins Dictionary definition of “comrades-in-arms”:
“A comrade-in-arms is someone who has worked for the same cause or purpose as you and has shared the same difficulties and dangers.”
No doubt both of us have encountered difficulties and dangers in our service of spreading the glories of the holy names. One time I returned from a chanting party on the streets of Paris in 1974 and Srila Prabhupada, who was visiting our temple at the time, called me to his room and asked with a smile, “So Indradyumna dasa how was the samkirtan today?”
Having encountered some stiff resistance, I replied: “Srila Prabhupada, there were some difficulties…”
Before I could finish the sentence, he interjected with a serious look on his face and said sternly, “When did I ever say preaching is easy?”
Throughout my life those words have served to embolden me in welcoming any difficulties or hardships in spreading the holy names of the Lord everywhere. They resonate with one of my favorite stanzas from a poem by Srila Bhaktivinode Thakur:
tomara sevaya, duhkha hoya jato,
se-o to’ parama sukha
seva-sukha-duhkha, parama sampada,
nasaye avidya-duhkha
“Troubles encountered in Your service shall be the cause of great happiness, for in Your devotional service joy and sorrow are equally great riches. Both destroy the misery of ignorance.”
[Saranagati, Atma Nivedana Tuwa Pade, text 4]
Throughout your devotional career, my dear godbrother, we have witnessed the fact that no obstacle is too great for you in fulfilling Srila Prabhupada’s desire to flood the world with his books. You were at the forefront of the recent worldwide triumph in distributing 10,000 sets of Srimad Bhagavatams. You have many such victories under your belt. And surely many more are yet to come!
You have made the impossible possible by your firm faith in the instructions of our spiritual master, leaving no doubt that you have endeared yourself to him. Though you do not want fame and recognition and though you graciously give credit to others for your success, you cannot hide your wonderful qualities:
“The transcendentally attractive qualities of a great devotee popularize his presence everywhere, even though he may be hidden from public view, just as musk spreads its fragrance everywhere even when locked away in a tight container.”
[Srila Rupa Goswami, Vidagdha Madhava 1.1.3]
Your theme, “Fan The Spark”, has reignited the flame of book distribution around the world. For myself, dear comrade-in-arms, that is nothing less than miraculous. Yes, I said miraculous.
“How does he do it?” one devotee asked me recently. My reply was, “Look at his sadhana.”
On numerous occasions, Srila Prabhupada made clear the connection between good sadhana and successful preaching:
“If you simply keep to our standard program, that means chanting daily 16 rounds, rising early, attending mangal arati, like that, if this program is strictly maintained amongst all the devotees, they will remain pure, and if preaching is pure, automatically leaders, managers, funds, everything will be given profusely by Krishna – without any doubt. Life will flourish.”
[Srila Prabhupada letter, February 3, 1975]
I have seen with my own eyes how ISKCON Silicon Valley has flourished under your direction over the years because your sadhya and sadhana – your goal in Krsna consciousness and your means of achieving it – are perfectly in line with the instructions of Srila Prabhupada and our previous acaryas. This single-minded devotion is the root of your success and is in harmony with the final instructions Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati gave to his disciples on December 23, 1936 just before his departure from this world:
ekantanuraga tahe thake vardhamana tabe ta sarvartha siddhi purna manaskama
“In the performance of samkirtan, if your single-minded devotion goes on increasing, then all your desires will be fulfilled and all your goals achieved.”
Vaisesika prabhu, I am honored to serve these divine instructions alongside you for our parama guru also said on that day:
ekoddesya aikatane avasthita hao mulasraya vigraha-sevaya adhikara lao
“Working together with the same purpose, we will become qualified for the service of Radharani, the original reservoir of love for Krishna.”
I am confident that the both of us, along with many esteemed godbrothers, godsisters and inspired devotees around the world, can achieve perfection by fulfilling the desires of our beloved Srila Prabhupada and our previous acaryas. Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati confirmed this in his final instructions:
sri-rupa-raghunatha-katha parama-utsahe birbhaye pracara kara sarva-siddhi jahe
“Preach the message of Sri Rupa and Raghunatha fearlessly and with great enthusiasm. Through this preaching, you will attain all perfection.”
Armed with the sword of knowledge and eager for the fight, my dear friend, I stand proudly by your side.
With affectionate regards,
Indradyumna Swami
“A Favorite Son”
September 14, 2020
My very dear friend Giriraja Swami, Please accept my humble obeisances. All glories to Srila Prabhupada.
I always feel a little awkward addressing you as my friend for you are, in fact, senior to me in every way in Krsna consciousness. You are more learned and wiser in your understanding of our sacred scriptures; as an older sannyasi and emeritus GBC member you are more experienced in the ways of our ISKCON society; and your personal association with Srila Prabhupada in the formative years of our movement has given you a seemingly unlimited reservoir of his pastimes to share with us, as well as insights as to how he desired his mission to be run.
An example that often comes to my mind is when, towards the end of his earthly pastimes, Srila Prabhupada asked you how this movement would go on in his absence. You gave a very nice reply: “By chanting our 16 rounds and following the 4 regulative principles.” Surely Srila Prabhupada accepted your reply, but, recognizing you as a future leader in his movement, he gave a further answer to his own question: “By organization and intelligence.”
There is no question that Srila Prabhupada had seen and marked your potential in those early years. His Holiness Tamal Krsna Goswami, who was Srila Prabhupada’s secretary for some time and who also knew him well, once said that Srila Prabhupada loved two of his disciples just like his own sons. One was Madhuvisa dasa and the other was Giriraja dasa.
But it wasn’t just that Srila Prabhupada saw potential in you; he also witnessed you fulfilling that potential in your selfless and untiring efforts to help him fulfill his promise to Radha-Rasabihari to build a temple for Them. When your magnum opus, “I’ll Build You A Temple – The Juhu Story” is published, we will all be able to read in full just how immense the struggle was to establish that temple. Srila Prabhupada summed it up appropriately when he remarked: “It was a good fight.” And you, dear Maharaja, were involved in so many ways from beginning to end, so much so that Srila Prabhupada said on one occasion: “Giriraja is Bombay and Bombay is Giriraja.”
How fortunate I am to have you as a friend!
prasangam ajaram pasam
atmanah kavayo viduh
sa eva sadhusu krto
moksa-dvaram apavrtam
“Every learned man knows very well that attachment for the material is the greatest entanglement of the spirit soul. But that same attachment, when applied to the self-realized devotees, opens the door of liberation.”
[ Srimad Bhagavatam 3.25.20 ]
When I compare myself to your purity, your sense of purpose, your strictness in following our process, and your deep, enduring and endearing love for our spiritual master Srila Prabhupada, I see how far I am from the goal. But I don’t become discouraged because I have faith in one of the instructions Srila Prabhupada gave me in the one and only letter he ever wrote to me: “Always follow in the footsteps of advanced devotees.”
My dear Maharaja, I will state it publicly and unequivocally here. Let the whole world know, now and forever, that you are the number one “advanced devotee” in my life in whose footsteps I follow. I have 100% confidence in your faith in Srila Prabhupada and his trust in you. That’s all I require. If, for whatever reason, they stop me at the “pearly gates” of the spiritual world and stare at me in disbelief as if to say, “What are you doing here?” I’ll smile and reply, “I’m just following in the footsteps of my good friend Giriraja Swami who passed this way not too long ago.” No doubt they’ll check their records and say, “Oh yes, he put in a good word for you. Welcome home!”
Maharaja, my father once told me I would be lucky if I made one or two real friends throughout my entire life. At the time I wondered how I could ever be satisfied with so little camaraderie. But now I know. It’s not so much the quantity but the quality of the friends we keep close to our hearts: friends who imbibe the same love for sadhana and sadhya, the practice and the goal of Krsna consciousness. His Divine Grace Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati stressed this in his final instructions to his disciples on December 23, 1936, just a fortnight before his left this world:
“In the performance of samkirtan, if your single-minded devotion goes on increasing, then all your desires will be fulfilled, and all your goals achieved. Working together with the same purpose, we will become qualified for the service of Radharani, the original reservoir of love for Krishna.”
Dear Maharaja, I look forward to many more years of serving Srila Prabhupada together with you and our esteemed godbrothers and godsisters and all the assembled devotees! I am confident that by serving Srila Prabhupada’s desire to give Krsna consciousness to the people of this world we will qualify ourselves to one day serve him and the residents of Vrindavan in the spiritual world. Dearest Maharaja, we look to you to show us the way!
Before finishing, I want to offer you and all your wonderful disciples a most precious gift. For several weeks now leading up to this ceremony, I have been contemplating your amazing qualities for the purpose of composing a unique and appropriate pranam mantra for your good self. It’s traditional that an initiating spiritual master has a pranam mantra that his disciples chant each time they bow down to him. A pranam mantra imbibes the essential characteristics and achievements of the spiritual master which are unique to him. I discussed with a few of your senior disciples and we agreed on several qualities that stand out in your service to guru and Gauranga. Then I conferred with Hari Parsada Prabhu, a member of the GBC Sastric Advisory Committee and we came up with the following mantra:
namah om visnu-padaya
krsna-presthaya bhu-tale
prabhupadati-priya-sri-
girirajaya svamine
suvaktre sastra-vijñaya
drdha-sadhana-saline
radha-rasaviharibhyam
bhaktebhyas catma-dayine
Translation:
“I offer my respectful obeisances unto Srila Giriraj Swami, who is very dear to Lord Krishna on this earth, having taken shelter at His lotus feet. He is loved by Srila Prabhupada and is an expert speaker and knower of sastra. He is fixed in sadhana and has given his life in service to Radha-Rasabihari and the devotees.”
Forever following in your footsteps….
Your servant,
Indradyumna Swami
“A service Dear To Your Heart”
August 31st, 2021
My Dearmost Spiritual Master,
Please accept my most humble obeisances in the dust of your lotus feet.
Today I am praying to the Supreme Lord to find the proper words to glorify you on this special occasion of your 125th appearance day anniversary.
abalam prabhur ipsitonnatim
krta-yatnam sva-yasah-stave ghrni
svayam uddharati stanarthinam
pada-lagnam jananiva balakam
“Wishing to drink from his mother’s breast an infant child clutches his mother’s foot and she kindly picks him up. In the same way when a sincere devotee, although not expert with words, yearns to praise others, the Supreme Lord uplifts and empowers him.”
( Hari-bhakti-vilasa 8.351 )
Srila Prabhupada, the other day a person inquiring about Krsna consciousness asked me if I was happy. When I replied, “Yes, of course I am,” he countered, “But how can you be happy when there’s so much suffering in this world? Everywhere one looks people are unhappy.”
I replied, “Sir, my happiness lies in encouraging people to chant the holy names of Krsna, a time-honored remedy to alleviate all suffering in this world. I’m sure if you tried it you’d be happy too!”
“I can’t do that,” he said bluntly.
“It’s easy,” I said. “Just say, ‘Hare Krsna!’”
“Sorry,” was his only response.
“Well,” I said, “then you’ll just have be satisfied with being one of the unhappy persons you mentioned.”
There was a pause and then suddenly he blurted out, “Alright! Hare Krsna! Hare Krsna! Hare Krsna!”
I waited for a moment and then asked him, “So, how was it?”
He replied, “Well, yeah. It was nice. I felt something different. I’ll give it a go.”
Srila Prabhupada, that conversation reminded me of how you were once walking on a beach in Bombay with some of your disciples and a little girl walking by folded her hands and said to you, “Hare Krsna!” Smiling, you turned to your disciples and commented, “Just see how successful our movement is!”
One disciple asked, “What do you mean by ‘successful’, Srila Prabhupada?”
You replied, “If you taste just one drop of the ocean, you can understand how salty the whole ocean is. Similarly, by this one girl greeting us with ‘Hare Krsna’ we can appreciate how the chanting of the Lord’s holy names has spread around the world.”
Such small triumphs in the spreading of the holy names certainly add to the success of your mission, Srila Prabhupada, but to be perfectly honest, locked down and locked out of my previous services to you as a result of the worldwide pandemic, I miss more than ever the big victories we helped you achieve in days gone by.
I miss seeing thousands of young people loudly chanting the holy names of Krsna at the Polish Woodstock Festival every year.
I miss distributing tens of thousands of plates of prasadam annually to Zulu children in the poor townships of South Africa.
I miss the standing ovations that our theater productions received as we toured the United States.
I miss our festivals along the Baltic Sea coast, where for 30 years running, each summer night, people would leap from their seats during the final kirtan and chant and dance with us in great ecstasy.
I miss our harinam parties in Altay, Dzag, Urgamal, and Hodrogo on the far-western steppes of Mongolia, where each time, literally the whole town would follow us back for a program in a hall.
The list is endless, Srila Prabhupada, but recently I realized I can’t go on forever daydreaming about the past. You said many times that if we are sincere, then there can be no real impediments to spreading the glories of the holy names. I was reminded of this recently while listening to a lecture you gave in London on July 18th, 1973, wherein you said:
“Material impediments cannot check progress in the science of God. We are experiencing that Krsna consciousness does not get checked anywhere. We have got branches all over the world. Any country, there is no language difficulty. Wherever we chant Hare Krsna they join. Even in Africa, they are also chanting Hare Krsna. So, there is no checking this movement.”
Your words had a profound effect on me, which is often the case when I listen to your lectures. I feel you are speaking directly to me.
“The learned say that nectar resides in the ocean, the moon, the lips of a young lady, the abode of serpents and in heaven. But the ocean is salty, the moon wanes, the husbands who drink nectar from the lips of their wives die, snakes provide poison, and one falls down from heaven when the fruits of his virtuous deeds are exhausted. But indeed, nectar is found in the voice of realized saints whose sweet words and instructions lead one to immortality.”
[ The Subhāṣita-ratna-bhāṇḍāgāram ]
Inspired by your words, Srila Prabhupada, the daily chanting of my mantras took on a different tone. I pleaded to be engaged once again in some significant service to your mission.
Narada Muni says to Gopa Kumara in Brhad-bhagavatamrta:
“My dear boy, whatever you desire while chanting your mantra, by its power you will fully achieve. Indeed, you will attain more than your desire.”
[ Sri Brhad-bhagavatamrta 2.1.189 ]
Time passed in this way, and having received no discernable sign from the Lord that He would fulfil my prayer for service to your mission, I suddenly realized how foolish I was to think that I, an aspiring devotee at best, could personally request something from Krsna, the Supreme Personality of Godhead. So then I did the right thing: I begged you, my beloved Spiritual Master, to pray to the Lord on my behalf!
In a letter to Mahananda das on April 26th, 1970, you wrote:
“Regarding your questions, are the Spiritual Master and the grand Spiritual Master consciously aware of the prayers of a sincere devotee who prays in love to Them? The answer is that no conscious prayers go in vain. They are transmitted positively. Any prayer you offer to your Spiritual Master and Superior Spiritual Master is conveyed to Krsna. No sincere prayers go in vain.”
So it was no surprise to me, Srila Prabhupada, when one week later, without any additional effort whatsoever on my part, my prayers [ to you! ] were answered.
“The quality of mercy is not strained.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath.”
[ William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice, Act 4, Scene 1 ]
As I was walking by the prestigious Vrindavan Research Institute, near to our Krsna Balarama Mandir here in Vrindavan with my disciple Visnu-tattva das, he turned to me and said, “Srila Gurudeva, the managers of the institute told me they would like to meet with you. Can I make an appointment?”
I looked at him in disbelief. Since 1973, when I first travelled to Vrindavan, the prestigious institute with all of its thousands of sacred scriptures had mostly been off-limits to anyone except research scholars. I often dreamed of walking into the institute and having darshan of the sastras contained within its walls, which I knew included the original handwritten manuscripts of Srila Rupa Goswami, Srila Jiva Goswami, Narottama das Thakura, Visvanatha Cakravarti Thakura and many other great Vaisnava saints, as well.
“It’s under new management now,” Visnu-tattva continued. “They are eager to improve the important work they are doing. I’ve actually been helping them for some time now with cataloguing their vast library.”
Visnu-tattva comes from a well-respected Goswami family in Vrindavan and is pursuing a master’s degree in Sanskrit.
“They know about you, Srila Gurudeva, and are asking for your cooperation with scanning, digitizing, preserving, translating and publishing the 32,000 scriptures in the institute.”
Surprised, I said, “But how in the world do they know me?”
“Through your social media,” he replied. “And they’re aware that you’ve been lecturing about Vrindavan for almost two years based on authentic scriptures.”
I shook my head in disbelief.
“Ok,” I said. “Make an appointment.”
Several days later we met with the head of the institute and his managers for several hours, discussing the dynamics of how we could cooperate.
Afterwards, one of the managers took me on a tour of the institute.
As we walked through numerous rooms encasing the sacred texts, she said, “The previous managers were mainly interested in protecting the valuable manuscripts. But our new management realizes these scriptures were written to be read by the entire world.”
As we sat down to discuss more, she placed an old palm-leaf manuscript in my hands.
“Take this one for example,” she said. “It’s the original Bhakti-rasamrita-sindhu by Srila Rupa Goswami. It is over 500 years old. You can see how much it is in need of preservation.”
“Good Lord!” I said softly. “I’m holding one of the most important sastras of our tradition in my hands.”
I could hardly fathom my good fortune. Looking closely at the beautiful handwriting of Srila Rupa Goswami, I remembered a verse from Caitanya-caritamrita:
sri-rupera aksara—yena mukutara panti
prita hana karena prabhu aksarera stuti
“Thus being pleased, Lord Caitanya praised the writing by saying, ‘The handwriting of Rupa Gosvami is just like rows of pearls.’”
[ Sri Caitanya-caritamrta, Antya 1.97 ]
Carefully taking the manuscript from my hands, she placed another in front of me.
“Do you know the saint Narottama das Thakura?” she asked.
“Yes, I do,” I replied. “He’s one of my great heroes.”
“That is his book, Prarthana,” she said with a smile. “The original.”
As I very carefully turned each parchment page to inspect the condition of the book, she said, “These treasures need to be treated and preserved for future generations. Would you like to help?”
My eyes became moist and a lump appeared in my throat. I tried my best to convey my consent, but I couldn’t. I finally just blurted out, “Yes! Thank you!”
As she carefully placed the parchment in its box, she noticed a tiny sliver of the manuscript in the corner that had apparently broken off. Handing it to me, she said, “Please accept this as a blessing from your hero. Place it in a kavaca and wear it around your neck.”
At that point, I couldn’t help myself and I burst into tears of gratitude.
Srila Prabhupada, thank you for answering my prayers and entrusting me with a service that I know is very dear to your heart. You yourself carried a number of our previous acaryas’ books everywhere you travelled. Every day you would refer to them as you wrote your Bhaktivedanta purports. I know this for a fact, for I once carried a heavy suitcase of yours filled with those precious scriptures from the London airport to your room in our temple at 7 Bury Place. Huffing and puffing, I placed it at your lotus feet and when I bowed down, you slapped me on the back in firm appreciation and gave me an eternal blessing, saying:
“So much endeavour in this material world, but when I take you home, back to Godhead, everything will be easy and sublime.”
I look forward to that day when you’ll take me home, Srila Prabhupada, but in the meantime I’ll work closely with a team of devotees I am assembling from around the world to help the Vrindavan Research Institute raise funds, as well as catalogue, scan, digitize, preserve, translate and publish all the works—known and unknown—of our previous acaryas. All the while, I will keep your following words close to my heart:
“It is my serious desire to devote the fag end of my life to translating Srimad Bhagavatam and so many other Vaisnava literatures, so by assisting me in this regards you will be performing the highest service to Krsna.”
[ Srila Prabhupada, letter to Hayagriva das, April 27th, 1972 ]
Your eternal servant,
Indradyumna Swami
“Serving Together”
September 12, 2021
My dearest friend, advisor and close associate, Giriraj Swami,
Please accept my most humble obeisances. All glories to Srila Prabhupada.
Like many thousands of others around the world, you are in my thoughts and prayers on this special day. We all miss you, we all love you and we all hanker for your association. But with all due respect, I think I miss you most, love you most and hanker for your association most of all.
Maybe that is simply because we’ve been friends for such a long time and our friendship has matured with age. I met a friend from high school the other day who, like me, has been on lockdown for a year and a half here in India. He remarked that with age one has more confidence, is slower to judge, values things more and learns to let go of things one cannot change. Then he smiled and said, “And one wears his wrinkles with pride.”
I nodded my head at those little snippets of logic and reasoning, but with your Vyasa Puja just around the corner, my friendship with you came to mind and I thought, “But in our lives as devotees in Krsna consciousness, the very best thing about growing old is sharing with our godbrothers and godsisters the realizations we’ve gained from 50 years of service together.”
Such realizations are hard earned and do not come easily. To conquer over the material energy and rise to the stage of always remembering Krsna and never forgetting Him takes great effort and determination. But when we are successful, even in the smallest of ways, it becomes a great victory and we want to shout out to our godbrothers and godsisters, saying: “I did it and so can you!”
My dear Maharaja, your whole life in Krsna consciousness has been such a statement to me, beginning with your extraordinary love for Srila Prabhupada and from there, extending out to include your deep, enlightening Krsna conscious stream of lectures; your enthusiasm for chanting the holy names; your steadiness in all situations—favorable or not—your appreciation for your godbrothers, godsisters and each of your disciples; and now in your later years, the numerous books you have written and published—especially, if I might remark, your magnum opus: “I’ll Build You A Temple – The Juhu Story.” A magnum opus is the greatest achievement of an artist or writer—their masterpiece! You, my dear Maharaja, have managed to accomplish all of the aforementioned and more, and I am inspired, thinking that one day I can too!
What a wonderful life we have lived as Srila Prabhupada’s disciples, carrying on his mission as best we can in our different ways—all culminating in one great offering to his lotus feet.
The sun is gradually setting on the horizon of our lives and we naturally think of what lies beyond. But I, for one, have full faith that it will be a natural progression from what we have been doing in our present lives all along: chanting, dancing, feasting, sharing our good fortune with others and visiting the holy dhamas. That being said, it would mean nothing without the deep loving relationships we have with those we have come to hold most dear.`
So on this day, so full of grace, I pray that I may always serve alongside you, for your heart’s desire will take you to be with Srila Prabhupada and his family of devotees. There is no other place in this world, or the next, where I would wish to be!
Always by your side, your friend for now and forever more…
Indradyumna Swami
“Phoenix of the Baltic Sea”
July 16, 2022
It had been two-and-a-half years that I had been religiously following COVID restrictions from my base in Vrindavan, India. I had begun traveling as a monk almost fifty years before the 2020 lockdown began, and I suddenly found myself confined to a small apartment. The situation conflicted with my nature, but I devoted myself to research and lecturing, sometimes studying for ten hours a day. However, when there opened a window of opportunity to begin traveling and teaching again, I was ready to go.
My top priority was to reestablish the annual festival tour I had been leading along the Baltic Sea coast since 1990. There were many challenges to overcome. During the pandemic, many of the tour’s core group had faced life changes and were no longer able to be a part of the two-month festival tour. The war in Ukraine had created complications and there had also been changes in the Polish government. Local officials who had long supported us and allowed us to hold our festivals in prominent locations in their towns were no longer in office. Some of the new leaders were unaware of or disinterested in our festivals. Finally, many of our funding sources had dried up due to the economic impact of the pandemic on our donors.
It took hard work, some luck and, no doubt, Krsna’s mercy, but we somehow overcame the obstacles. And at the beginning of July, 110 devotees, most of them brand new to the tour, assembled in Poland to witness the Festival of India tour rise like a phoenix on the Baltic Sea coast.
I arrived the day before the first festival and was pleasantly surprised to see all the new faces. At the same time, though, I was concerned because I knew it took a 250-strong crew to run the tour. That night I dreamt I was back in Vrindavan on parikrama with several devotees, including my good friend Chaturatma Prabhu. I woke with a sense of nostalgia for the holy dhama, but it was soon pacified when I remembered one of my favorite slokas:
yatha yatha gaura padaravinde
vindeta bhaktim krta punya rasih
tatha tathot sarpati hrdya kasmad
radha padambhoja sudhambu rasih
“To the degree that we surrender to Lord Caitanya’s service, to that degree we acquire qualification for service to Radharani’s lotus feet in Vraja.”
(Srila Prabodhananda Saraswati, Sri Caintaya Candramrita, text 88)
The connection between residing in Vrindavan and teaching others about Krsna in the West has always been clear to me. On the one hand, when devotees become purified by living in Vrindavan, they naturally develop a strong urge to share their good fortune with others:
adhuneha maha-bhaga
yathaiva narakan naraḥ
nanogra-yatanan neyat
tan me vyakhyatum arhasi
“O greatly fortunate and opulent Sukadeva Goswami, now kindly tell me how human beings may be saved from having to enter hellish conditions in which they suffer terrible pains.”
(Maharaja Pariksit, Srimad Bhagavatam 6.1.6)
On the other hand, by serving Lord Caitanya’s mission in the West, one develops an affinity for living in the company of the Vrajavasis in Vrindavan:
jihvayam hari nama sadhanam aho dhara-satam netrayoh
sarvange pulakodgamo niravadhi svedas ca vibhrajate
srimad gaura hareh pragalbha madhura bhakti pradatur janaih
seva sri vraja yositam anugata nitya sada siksyate
“On His tongue He worships the names of Sri Hari. Oh, how wonderful! From His eyes shower hundreds of tears. All the hairs of His body instantly stand erect out of ecstasy and He shines with perspiration. In this way, people learn of the eternal service which forever follows in the footsteps of the milkmaids of Vraja from Sri Gaura Hari, the donor of the most exalted and nectarian process of devotional service.”
(Sarvabauma Bhattacarya, Susloka-Satakam, text 3)
The day of the first festival dawned and I went with all the devotees on harinam samkirtan in the streets of Niechorze to advertise the event. I had been chanting every summer on the Baltic Sea coast since the inception of our tour 30 years ago, but this time I felt even more joyful and excited, no doubt due to two years of separation from my most treasured service:
“What would not I give to wander
Where my old companions dwell?
Absence makes the heart grow fonder;
Isle of Beauty, fare thee well!”
(Thomas Haynes Bayly, Isle of Beauty, 1844)
I quickly noticed that I was not the only one who had missed the tour. It was obvious by the way people responded that they had missed us too: their eyes lit up upon seeing us, they smiled and waved, they literally grabbed the colorful invitations we were giving out and, eventually when we stopped to chant in one place, they came forward and chanted and danced along with us. Watching the scene unfold before me, I was overwhelmed and another favorite verse of Sarvabhauma Bhattacarya’s came to mind:
yesam kasmin kali yuge
noddharo bahu janmasu
kalua te te sukhe magna
nama gana prasadatah
“In which Kali Yuga can the living being who, having taken many births, not attain deliverance? Now, in the age of Kali those very living beings become submerged in the ocean of happiness by the mercy of congregational chanting of the holy names.”
(Sarvabhauma Bhattacarya, Susloka-Satakam, text 50)
That evening before the festival began, I kept looking towards the street that led to our site with the large stage and the numerous colorful tents and exhibits. I wondered how many fortunate souls might come that evening.
An hour before the festival began, I noticed a woman standing in the restaurant tent watching the devotees put the finishing touches on the prasadam displays. When she saw me, she waved as if she recognized me.
“I’ve waited two long years for this day!” she called to me. “Your food is unlike any other in this world. I don’t know how I survived!”
Soon the crowd started arriving and quickly filled up the many benches we provide for our audiences. There was palpable excitement in the air as everyone waited for the show to begin. And when it finally did, both the audience and the devotees cheered. We were back in action!
I walked around the festival site while the stage show progressed from one beautiful performance to the next, watching people browse through the different tents and exhibits. In some places, the crowd was so large I couldn’t move. A family in the crowd insisted I take a photo with them. The people around the family moved back and a stranger snapped the photo with the family’s camera. Then the family showed me a photo of the living room in their home. On the wall was a large photo of all of them posing with me 15 years ago.
“We’ve been waiting for you to come back for two years. Thank you so much for coming to Niechorze!”
Looking on was a devotee who is part of our setup crew. He showed me a photo which he pulled out of his pocket.
“Maharaja,” he said, “This is me as a baby in my mother’s arms at your festival 25 years ago. We were guests. My mother told me that you whispered the Hare Krsna mantra into my ear. I think it must be why I’m here serving on the tour today!”
I walked on to the book tent, where an older gentleman asked me to sign two Bhagavad-gitas.
“One is for me,” he said. “I was thinking to buy one years ago when I attended one of your festivals, but I hesitated. During the pandemic I lamented I hadn’t done so, because I believe it would have helped me through those difficult times.”
“And the other Bhagavad-gita?” I asked.
“It’s for my granddaughter,” he replied. “Only God knows what she’ll go through in her lifetime. She needs to have this book to help her.”
A woman in the book tent approached me. “Can you please write a dedication in this book?” she asked, handing me a Bhagavad-gita. “I have attended at least one of your festivals each summer for 30 years. When I saw your poster in town, I decided I should finally try and understand the philosophy behind your movement and so I am buying the book you always hold up when you speak on the stage!”
“Better late than never,” I joked, as I took the book and wrote a short dedication inside.
I left the book tent to sit in a quiet area at the side of the festival grounds. One of my all-time favorite things is to watch people’s first reactions as they arrive at the festival and get their first glimpse of Krsna consciousness. I saw the bright eyes, the surprise, the joy, the astonishment!
“This is all the mercy of Lord Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu,” I thought. “He is the most merciful incarnation of the Lord.” I remembered a verse in which the Lord himself prayed:
“‘He Krsna! Oh, ocean of mercy! Protect! Please protect these people. Oh, my great master! They are burning in the great forest fire of birth and death. O ocean of mercy, kindly bestow your own devotional service upon them.’ His mercy upon the living beings having expanded to its zenith, Sri Gaura Hari, who is the only Lord and refuge for the wretched, performed thus with prayerful cries.”
(Sarvabhauma Bhattacarya, Susloka-Satakam, text 63)
After the audience had been left mesmerized by two beautiful theatrical productions, it was time for me to give my lecture from the stage, a lecture I have given close to a thousand times over the years. I was sure that some people in the audience had heard it more than once. But I remembered a passage from Srila Prabhupada’s purport to Bhagavad-gita 2.25:
“Repetition of something is necessary in order that we understand the matter thoroughly, without error.”
And sure enough, after I had delivered my talk, a woman was waiting for me by the stage stairs with words of encouragement and appreciation.
“I have been attending your festivals for years. And I have read most of your teacher’s books. I know your philosophy by heart. But I came today specifically to hear your lecture because I needed to be reminded how important all this is. Thank you!”
In my heart, I passed her gratitude on to my own spiritual master. “Srila Prabhupada,” I said softly, “are you watching? Surely you must be, for without your mercy none of this would be happening.”
3,000 people attended the first festival that night. At the end of the five-hour program, I gathered the devotees together.
“This first festival was so auspicious,” I said, “and it is only the beginning of what will surely be our most successful tour in 31 years. Thank you for joining us and working so hard to make it a success. The only reward we seek is to see the smiling faces of these people as they experience the wonderful world of Krsna consciousness!”
“When Lord Gauracandra, the most attractive personality within the three worlds, appeared in this universe, all the fallen souls began to wave their arms in the air, excited by the congregational chanting of the Holy Names. We are also completely fulfilled because of our taking shelter of those names of Lord Krsna. Oh, my Lord!”
(Sarvabhauma Bhattacarya, Susloka-Satakam, text 44)
“My Homeless Friend”
August 9,2022
We were chanting down the main street in Ustronie Morskie on the Polish Baltic Sea coast and I was keeping an eye out for a friend I’d met there 15 years ago. He was a homeless man in his 70s who sold small items that he found in the county dump. He usually set up shop under a tree on the sidewalk. Despite his disheveled appearance, he somehow managed to sell enough to have money to eat and keep warm through the cold Polish winters. Our very first encounter took place when our kirtan party was weaving its way through a crowd and I saw him waving to us from a distance. When we got closer, he ran up and gave me a big bear hug.
“I just love you people,” he said. “You bring such joy and happiness to our town. I came to your festival last year. Maybe you don’t remember, but your security team asked me to leave. I must have looked like trouble with my dirty clothes and all. But you told them to let me in. You took me to the restaurant, sat me down and ordered me a full meal. But what I appreciated most was your talk that evening.”
From that point on, our friendship grew. Each summer we’d meet at the same place when our kirtan party chanted through town advertising our festivals. He’d always run up and give me that same bear hug while locals and tourists looked on with disbelief: a homeless man hugging a monk in saffron robes. In the evening, he’d show up at the festival with a large bunch of wild flowers he’d picked from the fields nearby.
Even though he was poor and barely scraping together a living he never asked me for anything. But I always made sure to take him to the restaurant tent, and I told the cooks to serve him whatever he wanted. And every year without fail, when it came time for my lecture, I would see him sitting in the back of the crowd waiting for me to start. He was noticeable even from a distance because there was never anyone around him, probably because he rarely bathed. He listened intently throughout my lecture, his eyes sparkling. At the end, he would always run through the audience and hand me the bouquet of flowers he’d picked and then dance in the kirtan with great joy.
One time he said to me, “You talk about how this world is a place of suffering. I know that better than anyone. That’s why I’m an alcoholic. The drink is the only thing that stops the pain. But when you come to town all my sadness goes away, at least for a few hours. I am so grateful for those hours. They mean the world to me.”
Today we were back in Ustronie Morskie after the two long years of the pandemic. But when we came close to the tree he was usually under, I could see that someone else was busy selling jewelry there. I broke away from the kirtan party.
“Sir,” I said to the jewelry seller, “there used to be a homeless man who sold things here each summer. Do you know where he is? He’s an old friend of mine.”
“You mean the drunkard?” the man asked. “The old man with the scruffy white beard?”
“Yes,” I replied, “that’s him.”
When the man shook his head, I knew something was wrong.
“I didn’t know he had any friends,” he said. “I’m sorry to say that your friend died of Covid last year. They found his body in a shed just off the beach, and nobody was sure of his name. He was buried in an unmarked grave outside of town.”
I felt stunned. “Ok,” was all I managed. I turned and walked to a bench. Then I closed my eyes and prayed to Lord Caitanya to be merciful to him, remembering how the old man had loved the Lord’s samkirtan movement. I felt so distressed that I couldn’t immediately go back to the kirtan party. I followed from a distance and prayed for my friend again and again.
When I caught up with the kirtan, a devotee asked me if I was alright.
“Not really,” I replied. “I just lost an old friend.”
“Oh,” he said. “A devotee?”
“Yes, a devotee,” I replied. “He was a devotee of Lord Caitanya.”
“What service did he do?” the devotee asked.
“He appreciated devotees, respected prasadam, liked to hear Krsna conscious lectures and dance in kirtan,” I said. “And he gave a nice donation to our festival every year.”
“Oh wow! How much did he give you?”
“A bouquet of wild flowers,” I replied.
“That’s not much, Maharaja,” the devotee said, looking puzzled.
“Maybe not,” I said. “But they meant the world to me.”
*******
“From the time that Sri Gauranga Mahaprabhu, the sacred form of love for Krsna gave out His gifts of love, the sinner, the ascetic, the drunkard, the dacoit, the rogue and the thief, all very grateful to Him, completely abandoned their duties, families and sense enjoyment as if they were deadly poison and then very intoxicated, loudly sang the names of Krsna until they sank exhausted into the ocean of Krsna prema.”
(Sarvabhauma Bhattacarya, Susloka-Satakam, Text 49)
“A Summer Tradition on the Coast”
August 17,2022
The days of our summer tour along the Polish Baltic Sea coast are spent chanting and dancing. For four to five hours a day, we go on harinam and hand out invitations for the festivals we will host in the evenings. The chanting parties are full of such color and joy that they are festivals in and of themselves. After 30 years of chanting along the coast each summer, we are well-known—I would even go so far as to say we are loved.
This was apparent when we arrived in Mielno. I asked the driver to stop at a local grocery store so that Guru Kripa das could buy us all some fruit. The lady behind the counter said to him, “I haven’t seen you before. You must be a tourist. This is your lucky day! Our town is hosting the famous Festival of India down by the beach this evening. They come every summer. Believe me, you shouldn’t miss it. My husband jokes that it’s the greatest show on earth. But it’s not a joke! They have a big stage, delicious food and so many attractions! Really sir, make it a point to go with your family!”
Guru Kripa thanked her for the information and said he would surely visit the festival.
The people’s love of the devotees was shown in a different way in Rewal. Our kirtan party passed an elderly gentleman playing a guitar at the entrance to the beach one Saturday afternoon. I recognized him because I had seen him at the same spot many times over the years. But this time I saw he was crying, so much so that tears were streaming down his face. I was immediately concerned.
“Run over and see what the problem is,” I said to Jahnavi dasi. “See if he needs help.”
The kirtan party continued down the beach, and Jahnavi caught up with us half an hour later.
“Gurudeva,” she said. “You may remember there were always two men singing there together every summer.”
“Yes, I vaguely remember,” I replied.
“Well, they were childhood friends. They were homeless and they played music in the summer to make some money. Last night one of them suddenly passed away from a heart attack. The remaining man you saw is so distraught.”
“How did you console him?” I asked. “Did you speak to him about the eternal nature of the soul?”
“Well, I didn’t really have to,” she replied. “He has one of Srila Prabhupada’s books and he’s read it cover to cover. He told me he understands that his friend has passed on to another life. It’s just that he’s going to miss him. But he shared something quite amazing with me.”
“What is that?” I asked.
“He composed a song last night to help him with his grief and he’s been singing it all day to help others who may be suffering as well. I recorded it on my phone. Please listen.”
An angelic voice filled with emotion sang:
“Oh brothers! Come forward! I will reveal to you a secret:
“How to perceive this world through a song of grace
“That reveals beyond the shadow of darkness
“The light of Him who gives the gift of love
“Which removes the pain of those we’ve lost.
“Oh, brothers all! Raise your voices and sing along!
“Hare Krsna Hare Krsna
“Krsna Krsna Hare Hare
“Hare Rama Hare Rama
“Rama Rama Hare Hare.”
Jahnavi said, “He heard the Maha Mantra from our kirtan party years ago. He
told me he’ll be singing his song here over and over until the last day of summer.”
I smiled and said, “That means there are two kirtan parties singing in town. Such is the mercy of Lord Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu.”
“Out of His spontaneous compassion He restored all people back to consciousness and through the means of His holy name enabled them to pass beyond the impassable ocean of the age of quarrel. Thus, by the golden moons of Lord Hari and the Vaisnavas, news of the names of Krsna was told from person to person.”
(Sarvabhauma Bhattacarya, Susloka-Satakam, text 46)
I continued to think about the man and the song he wrote for his lost friend as the kirtan party continued down the beach. When we took a break I said to Jahnavi, “It was a very touching story that you told me about that man.”
“I have another one just as heart-warming, Gurudeva,” she said, smiling. “Yesterday I met a woman who told me that she came to Niechorze last year with a group of friends to attend our festival. It was her 50th birthday and she had planned to celebrate it with us. Three years before she had come and really enjoyed the event. But because of the pandemic we weren’t on the coast last year. She told me she was very disappointed. She had wanted her friends to experience our festival. So, you know what she did, Gurudeva?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “but I’m intrigued! What did she do?”
“She rented a vacation home for a day and held a Hare Krsna festival there for her friends. She began by dressing them all in makeshift saris which she fashioned from colorful cloth she had purchased in the market. Then she painted gopi dots on their faces. She read to them from a Bhagavad-gita she had bought at the festival years ago. Then she answered their questions as best she could. Finally, she taught them the Maha Mantra and led them in a blissful one-hour kirtan. The whole program lasted three hours and everyone loved it. Now whenever anyone asks her what her religion is, she says she’s a Hare Krsna devotee.”
That evening at our festival in Mielno, I sat alone behind the stage before giving my lecture. I prayed to Srila Prabhupada to give me the intelligence and purity to touch the hearts of the audience in my talk. I reflected on the fact that I was representing the efforts of generations of acaryas and their combined efforts to establish Krsna consciousness as a worldwide movement.
I also wanted to take advantage of the fact that we were there that evening by the grace of the Supreme Lord and one very pious mayor. Several years ago, when the topic of our festival coming to town had arisen in a town council meeting, all the members had voted against it except one: the mayor. He said, “With the power invested in me as mayor I am overruling all of you. The Festival of India has been coming to our town each summer for years and sharing a culture rich in the arts, and full of color and festivity. It’s a family event that appeals to people of all ages and provides our citizens and tourists with a unique experience. We will welcome this festival to our town this coming August and there will be no debate on the matter.”
And so, this year, our festival continued in Mielno as it has throughout the years. In Mielno, Rewal, Niechorze and all the other towns up and down the Baltic Sea coast, our festival has literally become a summer tradition.
I went on stage and began explaining the basic points of our philosophy. I was encouraged to see that most of the audience was listening carefully. But there was a sudden interruption: a fire engine, its sirens blaring, came screaming down the street and stopped outside a house right next to the festival site. As the fireman jumped out to unroll the fire hoses, most of the audience ran over to watch what was happening. I continued speaking to those who stayed in spite of the commotion.
Afterwards I went to the book tent. A number of people came forward to ask me to sign a dedication in the Bhagavad-gitas they had purchased. One man spoke to me about the fire truck interruption.
“I was torn between staying and listening to you or running over to see the fire,” he admitted. “Luckily, I stayed and listened to your lecture. And I’m glad I did because I agree with everything you said and I can’t wait to read this book!”
The woman next to him spoke up.
“My daughter and I just arrived two minutes ago,” she said. “My daughter saw someone walking by with that book you’re holding.”
“You mean this Bhagavad-gita?” I asked.
“I don’t know what it’s called,” she replied. “But when my daughter saw it, she became very emotional and ran over and asked the person where he got it. It’s unusual because she’s only nine years old and she’s usually very shy. She actually asked the gentleman if she could hold it. When he gave it to her, she started crying and her hands were shaking. I’ve never seen her like that. Something came over her. Now she’s insisting I buy one for her. But she’s only nine. What will she understand? I’ve told her it’s a book for adults and that I’m not going to buy it.”
Hearing this, the girl shouted, “No Mommy, I must have it. I know this book!”
People were staring and her mother looked stunned.
“What do you mean you know this book?” she asked.
“I don’t know, Mommy. I just know that I have to have that book. Please!” She started to cry. Finally, the mother relented and bought the Bhagavad-gita.
“Let me carry it,” the girl said. Holding the book to her chest as they walked away, the girl looked calm and peaceful. Before they disappeared into the crowd, she looked back at me and smiled and I felt the hair on my neck stand up.
“All this is possible only by the causeless mercy of Lord Caitanya Mahaprabhu!” I thought.
************************
“He gifts the song of the names ‘Hare, Krsna and Rama’ which destroys all obstacles such as sorrow, delusion, greed and suffering. He gives devotional service of Lord Krsna to the multitude of devotees who are eager for shelter at His lotus feet. I fall down swiftly to offer my prostrated obeisances to the Lord in His golden form who holds a string of meditation beads.”
(Sarvabhauma Bhattacarya, Susloka-Satakam, text 23)
Vyasa Puja Offering 2022
August 20,2022
Dear Srila Prabhupada,
Please accept my most humble obeisances in the dust of your lotus feet. All glories to you!
In mid-August in the midst of our summer tour in Poland, I was surprised to see that many trees were already turning to their autumn colors. Generally, they don’t change color until mid-September.
“They will start losing their leaves soon,” I thought.
Watching the bright colors blur together through my window as we sped towards our next festival site, two thoughts came to my mind. First, I thought about how I am in the autumn of my life and soon you will call me to another service, somewhere here in the material world or perhaps even in the spiritual world. The second thought I had was that I am fortunate to have lived as long as I have!
You said on a morning walk on February 21, 1975 in Caracas, Venezuela:
“Instead of contemplating what will happen to this world, you have got a short duration of life, say fifty, sixty years. You chant Hare Krsna and go back to home, back to Godhead.”
Fortunately, I’ve lived 13 years past the sixty-year deadline, but unfortunately, I have yet to shed a tear while chanting the holy names. I am not discouraged, though, because you said in a lecture in Los Angeles on May 4, 1973:
“This is called firm faith, that ‘Now, because I am engaged in Kṛṣṇa consciousness business, so I must be able to face Kṛṣṇa, face to face, see Kṛṣṇa face to face. That I must have.’ So don’t be disappointed. Go on with your Kṛṣṇa consciousness activities. Time will come when you’ll see Kṛṣṇa, just like Kuntī is seeing, face to face. There is no doubt about it.”
So, I don’t doubt that I will see Krsna one day, and I’m certain that that will happen only by your grace. Thus, whatever time I have left in this body I will fully dedicate to your mission of delivering the fallen conditioned souls. I realized long ago that it is only by serving your mission in this world that I can qualify myself to participate in your pastimes in the spiritual world. This means preaching the message of Lord Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu with full vigor just as you did!
yatha yatha gaura-padaravinde
vindeta bhaktim krta punya-rasih
tatha tathot-sarpati hrdya-kasmad
radha-padambhoja-sudhambu rasih
“As much as one can devote his full attention to the lotus feet of Sri Caitanya, to that extent he will be able to taste the nectarine service of the lotus feet of Srimati Radharani in Vrindavan. The more one engages in the service of Sri Caitanya, the more one finds oneself in Vrindavan, tasting the nectar of the service of Sri Radha.”
( Srila Prabodhananda Sarasvati, Caitanya Candramrta, Verse 88 )
There are many excuses I could use to stop preaching: I’m too old, I’m too tired, I’ve done my part. But nothing I’ve done can equal even one iota of what you’ve done for me. My dear spiritual master, my debt to you can never be repaid.
Recently, I watched again the heart-wrenching video of your last hours in this world. On your deathbed, you were using your final breaths to speak your Bhaktivedanta purports into a dictaphone held close to your mouth by a disciple. May I embrace those words to my heart and share them with the unfortunate people of this world!
I pray that nothing will ever distract me from your mission and from my desire to join you in your nitya-lila pastimes in Goloka Vrindavan. The present world is overrun with unlimited distractions. On the same morning walk on February 21, 1975 in Caracas, Venezuela, you warned us against becoming infatuated by these distractions:
“Don’t consider what will happen to this world. Nature will take care of it. You don’t puzzle your brain with these thoughts. You utilize whatever time you have got in your possession and go back to home, back to Godhead. You cannot check it. Best thing is that you mold your life and go back to home, back to Godhead. Because people will go on with their material civilization, natural consequences will be there. You better take advantage of whatever time you have got and become fully Krsna conscious and go back to home.”
That I will do, my beloved spiritual master, and knowing your compassionate heart, I will try to bring as many conditioned souls with me as I can. Like you, I will try my best to preach until my last breath, whether it comes today or tomorrow. If I am to be remembered, let it be only for my attempts to render service to your lotus feet. The Samurai warriors had a code: “Don’t ask me how he died. Ask me how he lived!”
I am early in my awakening as a servant of the Lord, so I can’t claim to know Krsna. But I am confident that I will reach the goal because I know you. It is you who will one day bring me face to face with the Lord.
One time the great Ramanuja Acarya asked Ranganath, the presiding deity of Sri Rangam, “My Lord, what will happen if for some reason Your devotee cannot remember You at the moment of death?”
Ranganath replied, “If My devotee cannot remember Me at the moment of death, I will remember My devotee!”
In my case, Srila Prabhupada, this could only happen by your causeless mercy. It is only because I am always remembering you that Krsna might remember me.
My dear spiritual master, you are my life and soul, the most cherished element of my existence. You are everything to me, my “saksad hari,” the Lord’s representative in this world. I surrender myself totally unto your lotus feet.
As the sun sets on my life, I am not afraid of what lies ahead, for it can only be service to your lotus feet. I have experienced in this life that I am happy serving you in any condition, at any time, in any place—in the jungles of the Amazon, the freezing steppes of Siberia, the deserts of Mongolia, the favelas of Rio di Janeiro, the ruins of Sarajevo and the concrete jungles of New York, London and Paris. I have always been happy sharing your message with others.
This is especially true when I am on the Baltic Sea coast with our festival, where, for the last 30 years, thousands of guests have been in attendance every summer evening. When the audience gives us a resounding standing ovation, tears come to my eyes and I look up to the sky and wonder, “Srila Prabhupada, are you watching?”
I hope that you are and I feel that you must be. Please know that by holding these festivals in my remaining years, I want to reciprocate with your tireless efforts in establishing this movement in the pioneer days of ISKCON. My life is coming to a natural conclusion and I often dream of where I will serve you next. Every day I am trying to improve myself so that I will be a real asset to your mission. Forgive me for using a mundane phrase I learned in the military, but I want to “hit the beach running.”
One time a godbrother of mine said to you, “Srila Prabhupada, I want to be just like you!”
The assembled devotees were shocked. One devotee chastised that person saying, “It’s offensive to say that. You can never be equal to the spiritual master!”
But you took it differently. You said, “That is the proper sentiment because the spiritual master is acarya – he is setting the example what kind of devotee the disciple should be.”
I still have time left: a few days, a few months or perhaps even many years. I will use this time to try to become like you, to serve with the same determination as you did.
You once wrote to me that I should “always follow in the footsteps of advanced devotees.” That instruction has guided me throughout my life. I have always honored my godbrothers and godsisters, understanding them to be more advanced than me. Most importantly, Srila Prabhupada, I have honored you as the most advanced devotee I will ever know, either in this life or the next. I look forward to meeting you again one day in the spiritual world. You told one of my godbrothers that when we return to the spiritual world our spiritual master will be waiting for us. He will take our hand and lead us into the forest of Vrindavan where he will introduce us to Krsna, our beloved Lord. I shall keep that vision in my heart as I wander the world attempting to bring fallen souls to your lotus feet, for you are Prabhupada, the master at whose feet all masters sit.
All glories to you on this occasion of your divine appearance in this world!
Your servant,
Indradyumna Swami
Our Bus Driver
August 28, 2022
Our summer tour was coming to an end, and I noticed a mixture of joy and sorrow pervading our tour base. We had spent the best part of summer sharing our good fortune with others, so there was a great deal of joy. But it was late August and autumn was in the air; the summer was almost over and some sadness began settling in. It had been a tough summer with a lot of hard work for the devotees, but the reward was seeing the smiling faces of people as we handed them invitations to our festivals on harinam — and then to see their delight in experiencing the festival itself.
For me, the greatest pleasure of all was seeing interest develop in unexpected quarters.
Our bus driver, Mr. Artur, is a good example. Every year we have a bus driver who stays with us throughout the whole summer. Most of our bus drivers over the years have done their job reluctantly and have showed little or no interest in who we are and what we do.
Mr. Artur seemed to fit this model at first. But one morning on the way to harinam, something happened that revealed him to be far from typical. Every day devotees would begin the bus ride with loud kirtan calling upon Lord Nrsimha for protection on the road. On that particular morning, though, we didn’t have the usual kirtan. Mr. Artur’s eyes were glaring at us through the rearview mirror as he pulled out onto the motorway.
“Am I deaf or something?” he shouted. “Why aren’t you singing? Remember this for tomorrow: if you don’t sing, I don’t drive!”
“Wow,” I thought, smiling to myself, “the chanting of the holy name has brought about a change in his heart!”
From that day on, Mr. Artur showed more and more changes. Instead of sitting in his bus during the festivals, he started attending the events. I could see him from the stage when I was giving my lecture, sitting off to the side of the crowd and listening intently to my 40-minute talk.
About halfway through the tour, Jahnavi dasi told me he had confided in her.
“He told me that he had been very sick, and the doctors said it could be cancer,” she said. “While he was waiting for the test results, he was so terrified he might die that he bought a place in the cemetery for his grave. But the results were negative. Mr. Artur said he felt tremendous relief, but the experience made him realize that he had to find answers. He was left wondering about the purpose of life and what happened after death. He feels like he’s found the answers now. There were tears in his eyes when he told me, ‘You all have given me hope.’”
As the summer went on, Mr. Artur came to feel like one of us. He became friends with the devotees, chanted and danced in the kirtans, and had ice cream waiting for us at the bus when we came back from a long, hot harinam. He became addicted to prasadam, consuming a large plate every evening at the festival. He seemed determined to try everything the restaurant had to offer.
One evening, he came up to me. “Mr. Guru, can I speak to you?” he asked. I saw he was holding a Bhagavad-gita.
“Of course, Mr. Artur. What’s up?”
“I don’t have much money,” he said, “but I have saved enough money to buy this book, the book you speak from every night. I’m really enjoying it! I want to learn more about your way of life. I can see the world has forgotten the values that you keep and maintain. I’m a simple man but I understand that without faith and without people like you, the future of this world is quite dark.”
That evening at our festival, I saw him carrying his Bhagavad-gita around the festival site. He was chatting to other festival-goers, and I could see that he was talking about the book. Watching him, I was reminded of Srila Prabhupada’s words I had read the previous night:
“When one searches for a devotee and fortunately gets a devotee’s association one actually begins to study and understand Bhagavad-gita. By advancement in the association of the devotee one is placed in devotional service, and this service dispels all one’s misgivings about Krsna, or God, and Krsna’s activities, form, pastimes, name and other features. After these misgivings have been perfectly cleared away, one becomes fixed in one’s study. Then one relishes the study of Bhagavad-gita and attains the state of feeling always Krsna conscious. In the advanced stage, one falls completely in love with Krsna. This highest perfectional stage of life enables the devotee to be transferred to Krsna’s abode in the spiritual sky, Goloka Vrndavana, where the devotee becomes eternally happy.”
(Bhagavad-gita 8.28 [purport])
I pray that by the mercy of Lord Caitanya, Mr. Artur comes to the stage of falling completely in love with Krsna and is transferred to Krsna’s abode in the spiritual sky, where he will become eternally happy. After all, isn’t that why we spent the entire summer holding festivals along the shores of the Baltic Sea with the people of Poland?
kalinā sadṛśaḥ ko ’pi yugo nāsti varānane
tasmiṁs tvāṁ khyāpayiṣyāmi gehe gehe jane jane
anya-dharmāṁs tiras kṛtya puras kṛtya mahotsavān
yadi pravartaye na tvāṁ tadā dāso harer nahi
tvad-anvitāś ca ye jīvā bhaviṣyanti kalāv iha
pāpino ‘pi gamiṣyanti nirbhayā hari-mandiram
[Seeing the pitiable condition of Bhakti Devi at the beginning of the age of Kali, Narada said to her], “O beautiful faced lady! There is no age equal to Kali. In this age, I will personally preach your glories in each and every home and establish you within the hearts of every individual. Hear my vow! Giving priority to devotional festivals over all other forms of religiosity, if I do not spread you everywhere on earth, then I shall no longer be known as a servant of Hari. The living entities born in this age of Kali who become devotees will attain the abode of Lord Hari without hinderances, even if they are sinners.”
—Translated by Hari Parshad Das from the Padma-purāṇam (Uttara-khaṇḍa (194.14 – 16). Vol 6 and 7. pp. 625. Gurumandal Series No. XVIII. Calcutta (Kolkata). 1946
A Dream Come True
July 18, 2023
My favorite time of the year was just around the corner: our annual summer festival tour in Poland. When the Polish festival tour began 32 years ago, I was a young man, but now at 74 years old, I readied myself for the months of travel ahead by taking long walks in the forest and getting as much extra rest as I could. I was determined to soldier on.
But just days before our first festival in Poland, I developed a terrible toothache. I knew that my tooth was in bad condition. I have a disciple, Dhanvantari dasa, who is a dentist, and he had cautioned me that the tooth needed attention. I had not heeded his warning.
“It’s major work,” he said when I called him. “You best come to my clinic as soon as you can.”
The next morning, I was on a cheap Wizz Air flight from London to Skopje, the capital of Macedonia. Upon arrival, I went straight to Dhanvantari’s clinic, where he worked on the damaged tooth and several others as well. I remember him asking me to open my mouth wider, and then two hours later I woke up just as he finished the initial work.
Smiling, Dhanvantari said, “Well, that’s the first time I’ve ever had a patient sleep through an entire appointment! You can get some good rest while I fix your teeth. By the way, do you know the meaning of Skopje, our capital?”
“No,” I replied. “What does Skopje mean?”
“It dates back many centuries,” Dhanvantari said. “It means, ‘The place where soldiers recuperate.’”
Hearing that, I smiled and said, “I was going to soldier on, but perhaps Krsna had other plans for me. I’ll rest as much as I can while I’m here!”
A week later, I flew from Skopje to Berlin, well-rested and with my teeth looking like new. We had arranged that my student, Guru Kripa dasa, would meet me in Berlin and drive me over the border to the first festival in Poland. During the flight, the passenger sitting next to me noticed I was chanting Hare Krsna on my beads.
“Are you a Buddhist?” she asked with curiosity. “No, I’m from the Hare Krsna Movement,” I replied.
“Oh, I’ve always wanted to talk to a Hare Krsna!” she said eagerly. We talked and talked and towards the end of the flight, she asked me an interesting question.
“Do you believe in miracles?”
“I’m going to answer that in a way that might seem unusual,” I said. “I’ve helped organize a festival event in Poland consistently for the last 32 years. It’s called the Festival of India, wherein we introduce people to the spiritual culture of India through theater, dance, music, yoga, meditation, philosophy and fine cuisine. It’s a family event that attracts thousands of people each day throughout July and August.”
“That sounds very interesting,” she said.
“But this year we met with many major obstacles,” I said. “Our manpower has been drastically curtailed by war and conflict. Our finances have also been depleted by inflation and higher prices in countries where our donors live. I put out an appeal for more devotees to join us in running the festival, but things are so uncertain in the world right now that not many people committed to coming to Poland to help. As for money, I could only pray. Nevertheless, we decided to depend on God and made plans to go ahead. To our surprise and relief, 145 devotees showed up last week on the first day of festival preparations – some with significant donations. To me, this is truly a miracle.”
“God bless,” the lady said.
Upon arrival in Berlin, I mentioned to Guru Kripa how eager I was to meet the devotees who had sacrificed their summer to help us hold our public festivals.
“They are also eager to meet you,” he said.
Four hours later we approached the festival site, where devotees were making final preparations for the event to begin. As I stepped out of the van, my emotions were running deep in gratitude for all those who had stepped forward to help. As I saw them come running towards me, I remembered a pastime in Sri Caitanya Caritamrita which resonated with my heart at that moment.
One year when devotees from Navadwip were arriving in Jagannatha Puri for the annual Ratha Yatra parade, the King, Maharaja Prataparudra, wanted to see the great souls amongst them. So he stood on the roof of his palace and asked a devotee named Gopinatha Acarya to identify each and every devotee. As the devotees came forward, Gopinatha Acarya said:
“Here are Srivasa Pandita, Vakresvara Pandita, Vidyanidhi Acarya and Gadadhara Pandita.
“Here are Acaryaratna, Purandara Pandita, Gangadasa Pandita and Sankara Pandita.
“Here are Murari Gupta, Pandita Narayana and Haridasa Thakura, the deliverer of the whole universe.
“Here is Hari Bhatta, and there is Nrsimhananda. Here are Vasudeva Datta and Sivananda Sena.”
So in a similar way, in my eagerness to be introduced to the many new devotees, as well as to reunite with the veterans who had joined us this summer, I asked Guru Kripa to identify them as they approached.
He said, “Gurudeva, look: there is your Dvijavara, who has been in charge of our sound system for the last 20 years. And walking with him is Svalaksana, his faithful wife. Just behind them is Jayatam das, our main tour manager. And see over there is Nityananda Caran, who can fix anything that breaks down. And walking quickly next to him is a new couple from Lithuania, who immediately volunteered for kitchen duty. Behind them is a brahmacari from India, who helps Radha Syama dasa with collecting the garbage. And here comes Syamesvari Prema from the USA. She stars in several of our theatrical productions.”
In this way, Guru Kripa introduced devotee after devotee who were carrying on the work of those great souls identified by Gopinatha Acarya at that famous Ratha Yatra. For this, these devotees deserved my full love and gratitude.
“From this day to the ending of the world
But we in it shall be remembered.
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.”
(William Shakespeare, Henry V)
Soon our festival site filled with a large crowd eager to experience the wonderful world of Krsna consciousness. Walking around the festival site, I noticed that we were missing some of the tents we usually had. Catching Jayatam, I asked where the other tents were. His reply was simple and to the point.
“Although we are lucky to have had devotees join us this summer, we still have a skeleton crew. Many devotees are doing the work of four people. But don’t worry, Gurudeva; we’ll manage.”
Once again, my gratitude soared for those who had come to serve.
Two hours later, it was time for me to deliver my talk from the main stage. I reflected on the fact that I was representing an entire disciplic succession of eternally liberated souls, great acaryas who had envisioned the time when the teachings of Lord Caitanya Mahaprabhu would be shared with the greater population of the world.
As I had done literally thousands of times over the decades, I prayed for their mercy as I walked onto the stage. When I finished my talk, I offered to sign any of Srila Prabhupada’s books that people purchased from our book tent. By the time I descended the stage stairs, there was a line of people with newly acquired Bhagavad- gitas.
“Please, could you sign this book for my daughter?” asked one lady. “She’ll be fascinated.”
“Sure,” I replied.
I wrote, “May the wisdom of the Gita inspire you on your spiritual journey back Home to the spiritual world where every step is a dance, every word is a song and there is a festival every day.” Then I signed and dated the note.
The next woman in line didn’t have a book in her hand. “Would you like a Bhagavad-gita?” I asked.
“No,” she replied. “You may not remember, but I bought one from you 30 years ago at one of your first festivals. I’ve read it many times and it’s helped me immensely in my life. I have given up so many of my bad habits. I have a faded photo of you and me together at the festival on the wall in my living room. I often look at that picture for inspiration when I’m reading the Gita. I just wanted to ask some questions which I have from my studies.”
I was in the process of answering her questions when the first lady returned, obviously anxious to speak to me. She had a second Bhagavad-gita in her hand.
“I bought another Gita because I have twin daughters,” she explained. “You know how siblings are; if they don’t get equal attention there can be fireworks! Can you please sign this book too?”
Next in line was a gentleman who began by thanking me.
“I loved your talk,” he said. “I wrote down everything you said, especially your points about how God is a person. My wife is an atheist and we have fought for 20 years about the existence of God. I’ve run out of arguments, but now I have real ammunition in this book. Surely, I’ll come out victorious now!”
Finally, a husband and wife approached with their teenage daughter who was holding a Bhagavad-gita tightly to her chest.
“Some years ago at your festival,” she began, “my father bought this book. Last year when we attended, my mother bought it. Now it’s my turn. Father said I’m old enough to understand it!”
After signing several more Bhagavad-gitas, I sat to watch our theater group perform the Ramayana on stage. It’s always a crowd pleaser because the devotees have perfected the performance over many years. It’s both highly professional and devotional at the same time. A number of the devotees are ballet dancers with many years of experience. Others have gone to acting school. When the drama finished, the audience erupted into a rousing applause.
As I sat watching their enthusiastic appreciation, my thoughts traveled back to a performance of the Mahabharata that I had attended on July 7, 1985. Directed by internationally acclaimed theatre director Peter Brook, the Mahabharata was enacted on a stage in a stone quarry just outside Avignon, France by a cast comprised of 21 performers from 16 countries. The performance was 10 years in the making and went on to tour around the world. That day in July, I was out on samkirtan with seven brahmacaris when we heard about the event. Curious, we managed to meet Mr. Brook and give him a Bhagavad-gita. In exchange, to show his gratitude, he gave us eight free tickets to his show.
On the morning of the event, we held our own little festival in a small hall in town. Twenty people attended. We had a short kirtan, gave a 20-minute lecture, and performed a small skit entitled, “Bird in the Cage.” Afterwards, we gave out “simply wonderful” sweets to the nine guests who had stayed until the end.
When we arrived at Peter Brook’s event that evening, we were stunned to find over a thousand guests. Everyone was milling about dressed in fine clothes, eager for the theatrical performance to begin. We certainly turned a few heads when we sat down in the stands with our shaved heads and bright saffron dhotis.
We were as mystified as everyone else with the amazing performance that evening – the acting, the costumes and the live music. When the five-hour performance ended, it was met with a thunderous applause. I sat spellbound by the magnitude and success of the drama, especially considering that it was presenting Vedic culture.
As we got up to leave, one of the brahmacaris asked me, “Maharaja, what do you think of it all?”
“I thought it was incredible,” I replied. “I feel inspired to do something like that for Srila Prabhupada. One day I’d like to present Krsna consciousness like we saw tonight.
Something like a large cultural event with theater, music and dance.”
The brahmacari looked surprised and glanced around at the rest of our party. Then they burst into laughter.
“Right! A thousand people will come to see our little ‘Bird in the Cage’ skit,” one boy said. “And your 20-minute lecture?” he continued. “You’re dreaming!”
Another boy quipped, “Maybe they’ll all come for the ‘simply wonderful’ sweets!” With that, they laughed even harder.
“Listen, you guys,” I said. “I’m talking about something really grand. It’s possible. Dreams do come true in Krsna consciousness. And we should dream big! We can do big things for Srila Prabhupada!”
“Dream on,” the first brahmacari said. “It’s late, we’re tired, and we have to get up tomorrow and distribute books!”
The resounding applause of the audience broke my meditation and brought me back to our festival. As the closing music of the drama echoed through the air, our talented actors gracefully descended from the stage. A large portion of the crowd rushed forward, jostling to stand next to them with their colorful costumes as their family members took photos. It was a beautiful exchange between the actors and the audience – a vibrant tapestry of laughter, chatter and appreciation.
Then, as a small break was announced to set up the stage for another performance, I saw people streaming toward our restaurant, forming a long line to buy prasadam. Others scurried off to the gift shop and a number of ladies approached our “Fashion Tent” to try on a sari. The whole atmosphere was bustling with activity. But as soon as the stage performance resumed, everyone hurriedly returned to their seats.
Standing there watching the large crowds’ enthusiasm for all we had to offer, I smiled and said softly to myself, “Dreams do come true.”
*******************
“The Ratha-yatra procession, with its three fifty-foot-tall carts, began at Grand Army
Plaza on Fifth Avenue and proceeded downtown. Young men, girls in saris, Indians, New Yorkers – hundreds – tugged at the ropes, pulling the gigantic chariots. With silken towers billowing yellow, green, red, and blue in the wind, slowly and majestically, the carts sailed south. The parade was complete with beautiful weather, hundreds of chanting and dancing devotees, and thousands of onlookers. And the route was some fifty blocks down Fifth Avenue, the most important street in the world, to Washington Square Park.
It was a gorgeous, appropriate climax to Srila Prabhupada’s ten years of preaching in New York City. When he had first come he had had no money, no place of his own to live, and no place for people to congregate and hear about Krsna. Now he was riding in splendor down Fifth Avenue at the Ratha-yatra festival, and his Radha-Govinda Deities had a skyscraper. In 1965 he had been alone on the street, but now he was accompanied by six hundred disciples, loudly singing the holy names and benefiting millions of conditioned souls. Srila Prabhupada said it was like a dream come true.”
[ Srila Prabhupada-lilamrta, Chapter 50]
A Most Lovely Event
August 5, 2023
Holding festivals for thousands of people six evenings a week takes its toll. Because I could see some of the devotees’ energy was flagging and because of the unusually cold and rainy weather, I started to consider the option of canceling some of the events on our annual Festival of India tour in Poland.
We had been lucky to have devotee guests arrive from various parts of Europe to bolster our limited manpower. Every day, two or three devotees appeared unexpectedly, suitcases in hand, and offered to assist us for a few days or a week. We needed their help, but having extra people onsite created new problems. The classrooms where devotees slept were already crowded and the newcomers were relegated to sleeping in the corridors. But when I voiced the idea of cancelling some of the festivals, the devotees immediately vetoed the suggestion. As one devotee put it, “I waited all year for this tour and I wouldn’t miss a day for anything!”
I could see their exhaustion, yet their simultaneous enthusiasm came as no surprise to me. After all, our days were spent blissfully doing harinama along the beaches to advertise our evening events. And the evening festivals themselves were unlike anything most of the devotees had ever experienced. They, like me, seemed spellbound seeing thousands of festival-goers experiencing Krsna consciousness every evening in diverse ways: the captivating 5-hour stage show, the restaurant, the question-and-answer tent, the yoga tent, the tent containing exhibits explaining Vedic philosophy, the face painting tent, the gift shop, and the fashion booth where ladies can pick a sari to wear for the evening.
I have always considered the International Society for Krsna Consciousness to be an expansion of the modern-day pastimes of Lord Caitanya Mahaprabhu, Who predicted that the chanting of Krsna’s holy names would one day spread to every town and village in the world. If anything surprised me, it was that we fallen souls were carrying on that mission. One time Srila Prabhupada commented humorously: “Just as Lord Ramacandra conquered Sri Lanka with monkeys and bears, so I am conquering the world with my disciples.” I felt that Lord Caitanya was daily submerging us within a tidal wave of mercy that allowed us to taste the nectar of Krsna consciousness. Srila Sarvabhauma Bhattacarya, an intimate associate of Lord Caitanya whom I often quote, describes this phenomenon:
satatam janata bhava tapa haram
paramartha parayana loka gatim
nava leha karam jagat tapa haram
pranamami saci suta gaur avaram
“I bow down to Gaura, the beautiful son of Mother Saci, Who is always removing the suffering of material existence for mankind, Who is the goal of life for those persons who are dedicated to their supreme interest, Who inspires materialists to accept new transcendental qualities and become like bees eager to lick up the honey of Krsna-katha, and Who removes the fever of the material world.”
(Sri Saci-sutastakam, verse 4)
And so, every evening, we watched as the festival guests accepted transcendental qualities and became bee-like in tasting the nectar of Krsna consciousness.
At one festival, a woman (a well-known surgeon, I later found out) told me that she had attended one of our festivals in Niechorze four years ago. It had left an indelible impression on her, but she had struggled with many challenges in her life and had lost touch with us. This summer she felt a strong need to find us, but she had no idea how to do so. She typed “Festival Indii in Niechorze” into Google and found our festival prominently advertised on the town’s summer event schedule. She then postponed all upcoming surgeries and drove up to the coast to participate in our festival for two full days.
That same weekend, another lady shared with me her unusual story of how she was inspired to attend our event. She said she had been a staunch atheist her whole life, until a recent traumatic incident impelled her to visit her local church to seek guidance. There she prayed to Mother Mary to give her a sign about how she should proceed. Later that day our kirtan party passed her in the street and she received an invitation to our festival. She said to me emphatically, “So it’s not by chance that I am here. The Holy Spirit directed me here and I am grateful he did!”
One couple I met also had an interesting story about how they came to our festival. They also received an invitation on the street, but they disagreed about whether they should come or not: the wife wanted to, but the husband wasn’t interested. She ended up coming alone, while he walked around town with some friends. Having had a wonderful time, the wife implored her husband the next morning to come to the second day of the festival in the town. He grudgingly agreed. He was so impressed by everything he saw and experienced that he decided to buy a Bhagavad-gita, even though they were on a shoestring budget.
I was signing the book when I heard her say, “Honey, you shouldn’t have bought it. I don’t think we can afford this.”
“I’m sorry, but I must have it,” he replied. “As the monk said in his lecture, spirituality should take priority in our lives.”
Sometimes our guests’ enthusiasm for what we are offering amazes me. One evening as the festival was concluding and I was getting ready to leave, a lady came up to me.
“Please don’t leave yet, sir,” she said. “Can you wait for my husband?”
“Sure,” I said. “Where is he?”
“He’s in the gift shop buying the Bhagavad-gita,” she replied. “We bought one yesterday at the festival but didn’t have a chance to get it signed by you. In your lecture yesterday you offered to sign any books people bought. We had planned to bring our copy today but we left it in our hotel room. My husband is buying another one so you can sign it. We’ll give the other copy to a close friend of ours back home.”
Unfortunately, not everyone is well-off enough to be able to buy our books. At our festival in the prestigious town of Kolobrzeg, I saw a bearded and disheveled homeless man sitting on one of the benches in front of the stage. His few belongings were stuffed into an old rusty shopping cart next to him. Though the benches were packed with people, the area around him was vacant, obviously because of his vagrant appearance. But during my lecture I saw that he was listening attentively. In fact, it seemed to me that he was more absorbed in the talk than anyone else. After my talk I gave him a Bhagavad-gita and we spoke. It turned out he was an intelligent man – a successful lawyer who had fallen on hard times. He was genuinely interested in the Bhagavad-gita. I took him to the restaurant and gave him a free meal. The next day we met again at the festival and continued our conversation on the Bhagavad-gita over lunch. When we parted, he said he would wait for us to return to the town for our second event there, scheduled in August.
“But where will you live until then?” I asked.
“Under that tree,” he said, pointing to a pine tree in the nearby park. “It’s my fate and I accept it. Besides, I’ll have plenty of time to study the Gita.”
“Alright,” I said sympathetically. “See you then.”
As I walked away, he called out, “And if destiny ever favors me again, I’ll invite you home for a delicious lunch!”
“Thank you,” I called back.
As I’ve mentioned many times before, the highlight of each festival for me is giving an introductory lecture from the stage. For me it’s the nucleus of the program. Our guests are often surprised that we include a lecture; after all, a “festival” generally implies singing, dancing, feasting and perhaps a theatrical performance. But a philosophical lecture? So, I always begin by explaining that our festival is unique: it’s the Festival of India, and spiritual philosophy is an integral part of India’s history and culture. Confirming the importance of a lecture at the event, there is always reciprocation from the audience, as seen by the fact that a number of people purchase Bhagavad-gitas right after the lecture. In fact, immediately after my talk, I relish standing in the wings of the stage to peek out and see people stand up and head straight to the book table in the gift shop.
One evening, a couple asked me if they could take a photo with me. They told me how much they appreciated the way the philosophy clearly answers the questions of life. As the man prepared to take the photo of his wife and son standing next to me, he commented to his wife, “If you want a photo with the guru, you have to fold your hands in prayer.” She did, and he took the photo.
That same evening, a large man came forward to shake my hand.
“I am captain of a large merchant ship,” he said. “I’ve been all over the world and learned many things. But today I finally understood that I am not my body; I’m a spirit soul. And I also wanted to say that my boss is the same age as you but he looks much older. I concluded that this is because he doesn’t know about Krsna’s words or how to put them into practice as you do!”
My disciple, Mathuranath dasa, brought one of Poland’s most famous actors, Tomasz Stockinger, to another of our festivals. They have developed a close relationship over the years and Mr. Stockinger, now in his late 60s, has expressed a sincere interest in Bhagavad-gita. After Mathuranath introduced us, I suggested that Mr. Stockinger come on stage to share his realizations on the Gita with the audience. He happily agreed and when he walked on stage an hour later, there was an audible gasp from the crowd. He spoke very nicely for 15 minutes. That evening we sold the most Gitas ever at a festival, no doubt because he, an influential cultural personality in Poland, had shared with the audience his appreciation for the sastra.
At times, even our competition becomes sympathetic to our cause. There was one incident where a beach town allotted us grounds near a large circus which blared loud music. Several devotees had gone over to ask them to turn down the music, but to no avail. One of the devotees reported that there was a grumpy old lady in charge who refused to even speak to them. I offered to go over and negotiate.
“There’s no chance, Maharaja,” one devotee said.
“I have a plan,” I replied.
I got 15 large samosas from the restaurant tent and packed them in a gift box. I took these, plus a beautiful bouquet of flowers, over to the circus. I asked the workers where the lady in charge could be found. They pointed to a small portable office unit. I walked over and knocked.
“Yes?” The voice was loud and sounded annoyed.
I opened the door and stepped into the office with the flower bouquet and samosas hidden behind my back.
“Oh! Not again!” the old lady barked. “I said I didn’t want to talk to any Hare Krsnas!”
“I’m the organizer of our event,” I said. “I just wanted to stop by and ask once again if you could possibly turn down the music for the three days we’re here?”
“Why should I?” she growled.
“Because I brought these flowers for you,” I said. I handed her the bouquet with a smile. “And these pastries too. I think you’ll find they are simply delicious.”
The woman’s eyes filled with tears. “How sweet of you,” she said with a flushed face. “I can’t remember the last time someone gave me such beautiful flowers.”
There was a short pause, and then she said, “Of course we’ll turn the music down. Don’t worry. I hope you have a most lovely event.”
And a most lovely event we had. In fact, the whole past month has been one lovely event after another as we touch people’s hearts in a variety of ways that gradually open them to Krsna consciousness. Certainly, all this is due to the strong desire of Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu, the most merciful of all incarnations of the Lord! He once prayed:
“‘He He Krsna! O ocean of mercy! Protect! Please protect these people. O My great master! They are burning from the great forest fire of birth and death. O ocean of mercy, kindly bestow Your own devotional service unto them.’ His mercy upon the living beings, having expanded to its zenith, Sri Gaura Hari, Who is the only Lord and refuge for the wretched, prayed in such a way.”
(Srila Sarvabhauma Bhattacarya, Susloka-satakam, Verse 63)
My Cherished Desire
September 8, 2023
Dear Srila Prabhupada,
Please accept my most humble obeisances in the dust of your lotus feet. All glories to you!
My dear spiritual master, as we find ourselves in the twilight of our lives, my godbrothers, godsisters and I are coming face-to-face with the harsh realities of material existence that you so poignantly warned us about in the innocence of our youth: birth, disease, old age and death. The stark experience of these sorrows serves as a sobering reminder that your words of wisdom about the material world always ring true. However, even more significant to us – and indeed to devotees of any age – is the positive alternative you compassionately bestowed upon us all: the path back home to the spiritual world, where life is eternal, full of knowledge and bliss. If there is any advantage to growing old, it is that we now hold this alternative closer to our hearts than ever before!
I am eternally grateful for your direct guidance and blessings. Your instructions to “preach boldly and have faith in the holy names” have been the guiding principles of my life in Krsna consciousness. Your unwavering faith in the power of the Hare Krsna mantra has instilled a deep conviction within my own heart. Your dedication to spreading Krishna consciousness through large-scale events has been the source of inspiration for the same service I offer to your lotus feet. And your profound love for Vrindavan, that sacred abode which you so mercifully revealed to us all, has been the motivation for my ongoing research efforts and weekly lectures on the dhama. Through your grace alone, I have spent the last 50 years sharing the joy of Krsna consciousness with others; my goal has been to make your divine presence felt in every kirtan I lead, in every lecture I deliver, and in every soul I meet on this sacred journey.
My dear spiritual master, your arrival in the Western world was a turning point – a pivotal moment – in the history of spirituality on this planet. Your journey from the shores of India to the distant land of America was not just a physical one; it was a transcendental voyage on which you carried the eternal wisdom of our scriptures to the eager hearts of seekers across the globe. Your Bhagavad-Gita As It Is has become a timeless classic, and your Srimad Bhagavatam will continue to illuminate the path of bhakti for many generations to come. May your words continue to resonate in the hearts of all those who encounter them and may your legacy shine eternally as a ray of hope and love in this world. Your literary contributions are a veritable treasure trove of spiritual knowledge, and I am eternally grateful for the opportunity to share these jewels with others. May I always remain a faithful servant in your divine mission to spread the glories of Krsna far and wide, as I know this pleases Your Divine Grace.
Srila Prabhupada, I long for the day I can be with you again in person. But I know I must earn that privilege through the medium of service to your lotus feet. Throughout this past summer, amidst the exhilarating kirtans we held with the many guests who attended our festivals along the Baltic Sea coast in Poland, I often gazed towards the heavens and wondered if you were watching. I earnestly prayed for a sign that you were aware of our efforts to please you.
Then, one night, I had a dream that I was chanting japa while strolling through a picturesque park. Suddenly, you were there! You were walking towards me in the company of several of my esteemed godbrothers. Overwhelmed, I prostrated myself at your feet. As I rose, you passed by and turning towards me, you kindly said, “You are doing well. I am pleased with you. Continue as you are.”
I took great inspiration from that dream, Srila Prabhupada. My godbrother Hayagriva dasa recounted in his book, The Hare Krsna Explosion, that you told him that although most dreams are simply functions of the mind, dreams of the spiritual master are of spiritual significance.
“If the guru gives instructions in a dream,” you said to him, “the disciple is supposed to follow them. When I came to the West my spiritual master repeatedly advised me in a number of dreams.”
Srila Prabhupada, I am determined to continue “doing well” so that you will be “pleased with me” and so that my cherished desire to be with you again will come true. Honestly, nothing else matters to me in this world. I stand prepared to accompany you to any corner of the three worlds in order to propagate Krsna consciousness. I beg you, my dear spiritual master, to please be present with me when I leave this mortal frame one day. Please take me by the hand and lead me to my next service. I promise wholeheartedly to try to make you proud! And sometime in the future, when the day arrives that your mission in this world has been achieved, perhaps you will take me home to Sri Vrindavan dhama to serve you eternally in that transcendental abode.
Until then, I will keep memories of days spent with you locked safely within my heart. From time to time, I will unlock those treasures and gaze upon them with relish. One time you left your chaddar on the vyasasana after a lecture on a grassy lawn in New Mayapura in France. Seizing the opportunity, I grabbed that chaddar and carefully carried it back to your quarters in the chateau. After knocking softly on your door, I entered to find you motionless, staring out the window at the large assembly of devotees and guests starting to take prasadam on the lawn. After a minute, you turned around and with tears flowing down your cheeks, you said softly, “Let them take Krsna prasadam!”
Srila Prabhupada, I miss you more than words can express. I relive that moment again and again in hopes of meeting you once more.
The Vrajavasi poet, Rasika dasa, has written:
(1)
kabahu dekhun ina nainana, udata upraina sundara cala, nasata tapa hridaya te bhapa
(2)
kabahu dekhun ina nainana, sundara-mukha daya jhalakata hai, kripa sisya pe karata rasala
(3)
kabahu sunu jhankara sri-mukha ki, sravanana milata rasa jhalakata hai
(4)
rasikadasa-vira kabahu men calatahu pache, prita-rita me punha-milana ki bata
TRANSLATION:
1) When will I see again the glorious gait of my guru who, with his chaddar flowing in the wind, removes the distress in the hearts of his disciples?
2) When will I again behold with these eyes the beautiful and merciful face of my guru, whose eyes are dripping the most condensed form of mercy which melts the hearts of his disciples?
3) When will I again hear his nectarian words which reveal the blissful pastimes of the Divine Couple in my heart?
4) The poet Rasika dasa says, “Oh brother, tell me please, when will that day come when I will walk beside my guru again, relishing our sacred reunion?”
Srila Prabhupada, I am and will always be,
Your eternal servant,
Indradyumna Swami
Our Hearts Beat In Unison
September 19, 2023
My dear Godbrother, Giriraj Swami,
Please accept my most humble obeisances in the dust of your lotus feet. All glories to Srila Prabhupada.
In regard to yourself, Maharaja, I do not hesitate to use exalted terms like “the dust of your lotus feet” because, to me, you represent the epitome of what I aspire to become one day: a fully surrendered disciple of our illustrious spiritual master, Srila Prabhupada.
In every way, you embody his perfect representative, and thus, in my eyes, you are also a flawless representative of Lord Krishna, the Supreme Personality of Godhead. This may seem like a profound statement for a Godbrother, but it is nonetheless true, as confirmed in Srimad Bhagavatam 7.4.31:
“He, [ Prahlada Maharaja ] was completely cultured as a qualified brahmana, possessed exemplary character, and was resolute in his quest to understand the Absolute Truth… He served venerable personalities as a humble servant, acted as a father to the needy, displayed brotherly affection towards his peers, and regarded his teachers, spiritual mentors, and senior Godbrothers as no less than the Supreme Personality of Godhead.”
Therefore, you are worthy of my worship. In fact, not to honor you as an exalted godbrother would be foolish! The Padma Purana, Uttara-khanda, cited in the purport to Srimad-Bhagavatam 11.17.37, explicitly states:
“Those who worship Lord Govinda but do not worship His devotees should not be known as devotees. They should be known only as pretenders.”
In my view, you are the most accomplished speaker on Srimad Bhagavatam among the living. Your lectures are marked by authority, with every word rooted in the teachings of guru, sastra, and sadhu. Listening to your discourses feels like hearing the Bhagavatam’s verses come to life. Sarasvati, the goddess of learning herself, has graced you with the unique ability to embellish your lectures with captivating anecdotes and experiences from your time with Srila Prabhupada. These memories endure the test of time due to your profound love for His Divine Grace.
My heart holds a deep affection for Srila Prabhupada and his mission in this world. Therefore, I seek shelter at your lotus feet, as per Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati Thakur’s final instructions:
“All of you, please preach fervently about Sri Rupa and Sri Raghunatha. Our ultimate desire is to become particles of dust at the lotus feet of Sri Rupa Goswami’s followers.”
You, Maharaja, are one such follower, and I follow in your footsteps. By adhering to this principle, I am assured of success. I am confident in this, for in a letter to me from 1971, Srila Prabhupada wrote:
“Please continue to follow all the rules and regulations, chant 16 rounds of the maha-mantra daily, and always follow in the footsteps of advanced devotees. Then, in time, I will accept you as my duly initiated disciple.”
I diligently followed Srila Prabhupada’s instructions and was subsequently initiated. I continue to uphold these instructions to attain the purpose of my initiation: pure, unwavering love for Radha and Krishna. As you play a pivotal role in my journey toward this goal, I proudly declare myself a follower of my dear friend and well-wisher, Giriraj Swami. I believe your disciples will rejoice to hear this, and thus, I seek their blessings as well.
sakala vaisnava pade mora namaskara
ithe kichu aparadha nahuka amara
hoiyachen hoiben prabhur jato bhakta vrnda
vandana kori sabara charanaravinda
“I offer my respectful obeisances unto the lotus feet of all Vaisnavas, praying I will not commit offences in my attempts to please them. To all Vaisnavas who have ever been, and to all Vaisnavas who will ever be, I offer my obeisances to their lotus feet.”
[ The poet Devakinandana dasa ]
Maharaja, although our meetings are infrequent these days, you remain close to my heart, for our hearts beat in unison in our commitment to fulfill Srila Prabhupada’s mission in this world. And what is that mission? Srila Prabhupada’s guru maharaja made it unequivocal in his commentary on Sri Caitanya Siksamrita.
Therein, he wrote:
“In the teachings of Sriman Mahaprabhu, there are only two principal instructions: develop a taste for chanting the holy names and show compassion to fallen souls.”
I am truly amazed that, despite your advanced age, your preaching continues to expand in diverse ways. Each day, when I open my computer, the first thing I do is eagerly seek out your delightful announcements, which invariably begin with:
“I have scheduled the following programs, to which you are all welcome to join, on Zoom, YouTube, or Facebook. Most programs will run for an hour to an hour and a half. The starting times are Pacific time.”
And your literary contributions! When do you find the time? You are so busy diligently chanting your 16 rounds every morning (and I love how you smile as you glance at the camera to greet those who join you in these sessions). You are engrossed in your scheduled programs, frequently hosting guests at your ashram. And surely, many devotees write seeking guidance from you. My realization is that the many books you have authored are a testament to your unwavering adherence to our beloved spiritual master’s instructions. In a letter to your dear friend, Satsvarupa Maharaja, on February 28, 1972, Srila Prabhupada wrote:
“You ask a question about the nature of books I want you to write as my disciples. In Krsna Consciousness, there are no limitations. Great personalities like the Gosvamis wrote numerous books, Visvanatha Cakravarti and all the acaryas authored books, and I too am writing books. Similarly, my disciples will also write.”
Please do remember me from time to time, Maharaja. You received Srila Prabhupada’s mercy at an early stage of your spiritual journey. It is a blessed fact that when reflecting on your presence as a guest at a program in Boston during the early days of our movement, Srila Prabhupada actually prayed to Krsna, “May this young man become your devotee.”
The blessings of a pure devotee never go in vain when the recipient is sincere. You are living proof of this, and we all thank you for your unwavering dedication to Srila Prabhupada and his mission in this world. May Srila Prabhupada continue to shower his blessings upon you until you attain perfection. That moment is surely not far away…
param gopyam api snigdhe
sisye vacyam iti srutih
tac chruyatam maha bhaga
goloka mahi-madhuna
“The Vedas say that to a loyal disciple one may speak the confidential secret. Therefore, O most fortunate one, now please hear the glories of Goloka.”
[ Brhad Bhagavatamrta, Part 2, Chapter 1, text 6 ]
Your friend, servant, and admirer,
Indradyumna Swami
Standing Ovations
August 06, 2024
As we embarked on our 34th annual Festival of India tour along Poland’s Baltic Sea coast this summer, I was curious as to how our audiences would respond to our presence. Millions have attended our events over the years and many more have heard about the festivals from friends and family. Whatever opposition we faced in the early years is now mostly a distant memory. As in previous years, we were planning to saturate the coast with our programs, but I wondered how many people would be inclined to attend. With over one million Ukrainian refugees in Poland, I questioned whether people would be too preoccupied with the nearby war to enjoy the summer. Fortunately, as we soon discovered, large numbers of people gravitated to our festivals, many of them looking for spiritual solutions to the turmoil of modern society.
“Ordinarily, at the end of the age of Kali, religious principles are established by the Kalki incarnation. But this current one is the ‘blessed Kali yuga;’ Kalki is not required to incarnate in this age because Sri Caitanyadeva has incarnated in this Kali yuga. By His grace all social ills will be removed. That is certain.”
[Srila Bhaktivinoda Thakura, Sri Sri Bhagavata Patrika (Issue 1)]
By Lord Caitanya’s mercy, we secured the same school we have used as a base for many years. Finding appropriate base facilities has become increasingly difficult due to the many regulations imposed by the European Union; it provides large donations to schools in Poland and, in turn, expects the schools to be used exclusively for educational purposes. We succeeded mainly because members of the school administration staff have attended our events over the years and have come to love us.
The personal impact of our festivals is a theme I continually encounter in Poland. The consistency of our annual events has caused many Polish people to accept us, trust us, and even take up some aspects of devotional service. After our first three-day event in Niechorze, Daivi Radhika dasi, a veteran tour devotee, wrote a note to me:
“Dear Maharaja, over the years I have noticed how much influence the Festival of India has been having on Polish people and their lifestyle. First of all, the people of this country have become much more favorable towards Krsna consciousness and our philosophy in general—no matter their age. They don’t argue with us anymore, they ask intelligent questions, and they are tolerant.
“Secondly, Sanskrit words like ‘guru,’ ‘karma,’ ‘yoga,’ and ‘tilak’ are now in everyday use in the Polish language (for example, in crosswords) and most Poles understand their meaning.
“There are also many people who have become vegetarian or vegan. And yoga has become extremely popular in the last few years, even in small cities. In my own tiny hometown, there are nine yoga schools!
“This change is also visible in Polish people’s hairstyle and dress. A few years back, some men started wearing something that resembled a sikha and now for women, popular clothing stores sell tops that look exactly like cholis! They are a hit among teenage girls. Ankle-long skirts and dresses are back in fashion too, and I’ve seen a few chaddars being used as well.
“Maharaja, I am a hundred percent sure that none of the above would have ever happened if not for our Festival of India. Thanks to your lectures on the stage, the Polish people are more and more conscious of us and so many of them are becoming devotees at heart. I am proud to play a tiny part in this great cultural revolution.
“Your servant,
“Daivi Radhika devi dasi”
In the town of Rewal a few days later, I was fortunate to witness Daivi Radhika’s words come to life. Our theater group was performing the highlight of our festival—a theater production called “Song of Grace,” which illustrates how the soul continues to exist after death. Meanwhile, I was doing one of my favorite things: walking around the perimeter of the crowd and observing people’s reactions. Towards the end of the production, during an emotional scene in which a woman realizes that her departed grandmother has ascended to the spiritual world, I noticed that several people had tears in their eyes. When the play concluded, it received a standing ovation from the crowd. At that moment, I couldn’t hold back my own tears.
To my great satisfaction, immediately after the theater performance concluded, many people streamed towards our book display to buy copies of the Bhagavad Gita. As I quickly made my way there to sign books, I recalled an interview my godsister Rasajna dasi gave wherein she recounted Srila Prabhupada’s reaction to a theatrical performance in which she had played the role of Rukmini, one of Krsna’s wives:
“After the play we were taking our makeup off, when Mohanananda, Prabhupada’s servant, came and told us what Prabhupada had said about the performance. Prabhupada had said, ‘This is better than reading my books. I want to take this whole troupe with me to Africa.’ Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible because we were the main event of the Brooklyn temple’s Sunday feast program. But the fact is that Prabhupada put great importance on theatrical performances. He wanted Krishna consciousness to be presented as a cultural movement. Once in the Bhagavatam class he said, ‘All my disciples should act in plays because when you play the part of any of these characters, you get the feeling of what it’s all about. It becomes more real.’ We tend to forget about our feelings because we get caught up in the process. But when you perform a part, you have to use your feelings to portray the character. For the period of the performance, you’re transformed. Prabhupada also complimented me. He said, ‘Rukmini, she was the best.’”
She continued, “Another time, we had an ecstatic performance at the Mayapur Festival in 1977. Prabhupada was sick and not giving lectures, but he would come to see the play and then go back to his room. We were doing a portion of the Ramayana, and I was playing Surpanaka. Somehow, we got trees on stage to create a forest effect, and as I was coming up the stairs in the back Prabhupada saw me and started clapping and laughing. During the exchange between Surpanaka, Lord Ramachandra, and Laksman, he was laughing hard and slapping his legs with both hands. I looked out for just a moment, and all the devotees were watching him. He was the only one who was watching the play. Then he stood up and gave a standing ovation. It was ecstatic!”
The next morning, Daivi Radhika sent me another note: “Maharaja, it’s amazing how many people love and appreciate our festival. And not only because it’s fun, colorful, and exotic, but because they actually are interested more and more in the deep message behind it. This evening at the book table it was truly touching to see many elderly people buying books or commenting on ones they already have from previous years and thanking us for being there again and again. I was amazed because they were the generation which so vehemently opposed us in the past!”
Our next festival took place in the port town of Mrzezyno. A harinam party went out in the morning to distribute invitations and to put up posters to advertise the event that afternoon. I had stayed back from the harinam, but at 4 p.m. I received an urgent phone call from the samkirtan leader.
“Maharaja, we had just finished the harinam when we realized that we gave out 6,000 invitations with the wrong address for the festival! Someone made a big mistake while stamping them! What should we do? The festival is supposed to start in a few minutes and no one is here!”
“Hold on!” I said. “I’ll be right there.”
Ten minutes later, I arrived at the festival site just as the first performance was supposed to begin. Not a single soul occupied the benches in front of the stage. As I stood there contemplating the situation, I noticed the two large buses that had brought the devotees to the event.
“Tell the bus drivers to get into the buses right now!” I said.
“Why?” asked the samkirtan leader.
“We’re heading to the place we mistakenly advertised for this event!” I replied.
“Why would we do that?” the devotee asked.
“We’ll collect all the people who went there and who will be wondering right now where we are,” I said. “We’ll bus them in groups back here to the festival!”
Twenty minutes later, we arrived at the “wrong address” to find a large crowd milling about, obviously confused by our blunder.
Exiting one of the buses, the samkirtan leader announced with a bullhorn that a slight mistake had been made and that the festival was taking place in another part of town. He then invited everyone to board the buses. When the buses were full, he announced that we would return to pick up those who had not managed to secure a seat.
That afternoon, we made three trips back and forth to our festival site. By the time we finished, the benches in front of the stage were full, the festival site was alive with music, the sweet smell of incense was billowing from the gift shop, and people were happily eating the prasadam from our restaurant.
That evening after my lecture, I sat at the book table signing the numerous copies of Bhagavad Gita that people had just purchased—a telltale sign that the festival was a success. One lady walked up, handed me her Gita, and said, “I am so blessed!”
“How so?” I asked.
“Well, she said, “I was in Rewal the other evening when I came across your festival by chance, just as you were finishing up. Seeing the happy faces of all the guests, I realized I had missed something very significant. I stood there lamenting that I hadn’t come earlier. Then I left, wondering if I would ever see you all again.
“Then, last night here in Mrzezyno, I went to bed very late and got up around noon. I did some office work throughout the afternoon. Around 5 p.m., I opened my bedroom window and suddenly smelled this wonderful aroma and heard beautiful music. I went outside to see where it was coming from, and when I saw that the same festival was set up just 50 meters away from my house I almost fainted! I literally ran here and have been enjoying every minute. I won’t forget this day for the rest of my life, and I have decided to buy a book to understand the deeper meaning behind your event!”
“O swan gliding in the lakes of the Vrajavasis’ love, I wish that I may wander everywhere always chanting and drinking the nectar of Your names. Those most sweet names arise from the ocean of Gokula and spread the glories of Your infinitely varied dress and ways of acting. As I wander, behaving like a madman, may I distribute joy to everyone in all the worlds.”
[Sri Brhad Bhagavatamrta 1.7.143]
One Important Question
August 12, 2024
Summertime in Europe has been a favorite of mine since 1972, when Srila Prabhupada requested that a close godbrother and I go overseas to help the fledging Paris temple. Taking advantage of the warm weather, I often took to the roads for traveling samkirtan, distributing Srila Prabhupada’s books in the small towns and villages scattered across the countryside of France, Belgium, Spain, Italy and Switzerland. These locations were often inaccessible during Europe’s winters due to the frigid temperatures, but in the summertime, they were alive with beauty. Walking from village to village along scenic country roads, I often found myself distributing books alone, taking the opportunity to honor lunch prasadam in a peaceful grove of trees or a lush green meadow.
One of the most beautiful places I discovered was the Baltic Sea Coast in Poland. The coastline stretches for hundreds of miles, adorned with pristine sandy beaches that shimmer under the soft sunlight. Tall dunes, shaped by the wind over centuries, rise gracefully, their slopes blanketed in golden grasses. Behind the dunes, there are dense pine forests rich with life, offering a tranquil refuge for wildlife and a serene retreat for those seeking solace in nature’s embrace.
Summer in Poland is unique, featuring early sunrises and long, lingering sunsets. As the day fades, the sun sets in a blaze of colors, painting the sky with hues of orange, pink, and purple, often until 11 p.m. This breathtaking backdrop provides the perfect setting for our Festival of India, which runs from 5:30 p.m. to 10 p.m. daily, except on Mondays, throughout July and August.
As beautiful and captivating as it is, the Polish Baltic Sea coast has not yet become as commercialized a tourist destination as, for example, the coastal rivieras in France or Italy. While Polish people flock to the region to bask in the sun and stroll through the surrounding forests, there is little in the way of entertainment—no music concerts, sporting events, circuses, etc. By Lord Caitanya’s arrangement, our grand cultural extravaganza stands as the sole event, and we fully seize this opportunity!
Every day, from our base—an old school constructed in the 1960s during Poland’s communist era—we send out a harinam party of 50-60 devotees to chant on the beaches and boardwalks near the location of our evening program. Meanwhile, a crew of 25 men sets up our event at a prearranged festival site in a prominent part of the town hosting us that day. They assemble the massive stage, the seating for the audience, as well as the numerous, colorful tents showcasing various aspects of India’s spiritual culture. Thirty other devotees remain at the school, using its kitchen to prepare the prasadam that will be sold in our onsite restaurant during that evening’s festival. Another 50 devotees are meticulously engaged in fine-tuning every detail, ensuring that the festival runs seamlessly. It is truly a team effort in every sense of the word!
Then, at 5:30 p.m., the crowds start to pour onto our festival grounds. It never ceases to amaze me how, every day without fail, hundreds, if not thousands, of people arrive. What astonishes me most, however, is how many of them come eagerly searching for spiritual life. Krsna says in the Bhagavad Gita:
manuṣyāṇāṁ sahasreṣu
kaścid yatati siddhaye
yatatām api siddhānāṁ
kaścin māṁ vetti tattvataḥ
“Out of many thousands among men, one may endeavor for perfection, and of those who have achieved perfection, hardly one knows Me in truth.” [ Bhagavad Gita 7.3 ]
In my experience, that figure is pleasingly disproportionate to the number of people who are eager to hear about Krsna at our events. There are numerous examples of this every day—far too many to recount them all! But let me try to highlight a few.
As I walked toward our festival grounds the other day for our second festival in Kolobrzeg, a large, bearded man approached me, accompanied by his wife. He was tall, muscular and imposing, and so I hesitated for a moment to engage with him—until he extended his hand and clearly addressed me by name.
“Indradyumna Swami,” he began. “Do you remember me?”
I thought for a moment, but I could not remember ever having met him before.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Was it recently?”
“No,” he replied. “Twenty-one years ago, at one of your festivals along the coast here.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said with an apologetic tone. “I don’t remember.”
“That’s alright,” he continued, “I will never forget our meeting. It made a lasting impression on me.”
“Oh, really? How so?” I asked.
“Well, we spoke for over an hour about the Bhagavad Gita and spiritual life. In that short duration of time, you convinced me to give up meat-eating. I’ve been vegetarian since that very day—21 years ago.”
“Wow!” I said. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“You also encouraged me to chant the Hare Krsna mantra.”
When he said the words, “Hare Krsna mantra,” I immediately noticed that he pronounced them perfectly, just as he had done with my name earlier. Sensing an opportunity, I asked, “Did you ever take my advice and chant the mantra?”
“Oh, yes!” he responded. “You don’t remember how you gave me japa beads to chant on?”
Somewhat surprised, I asked, “I gave you japa beads to chant on?”
“Yes!” he replied with a smile. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a well-worn bead bag and said, “And here they are!”
Then, from the bag, he revealed a pair of smooth japa beads, their shine clearly indicating the time he had spent chanting on them.
“I took your advice to heart and have chanted 16 rounds every day, without fail, since that memorable meeting.”
“Every day?” I asked, incredulously.
“Yes, of course,” he confirmed. “But on some days when I have the time, I chant 64 rounds, like you mentioned some saints do. But I am very busy, so it’s not often possible to chant that many rounds.”
At this point, quite curious about him, I asked, “May I inquire what your profession is?”
His wife chimed in then, saying, “He’s a famous movie producer. He mainly produces documentaries. Everyone in the film industry here in Poland knows him.”
“But I’m about to retire,” he said humbly. “It’s not been easy. Life’s always a struggle. But the power of the Hare Krsna mantra has gotten me through it all.”
“Have you ever visited any of our temples, or read any of our books?” I inquired.
“Honestly,” he said, “I haven’t. With all due respect, the Hare Krsna mantra is everything I’ve ever needed. And I’ll keep chanting till the day I die.”
With that, he thanked me profusely, embraced me, offered a bow, and then walked away.
As he was leaving, Guru Kripa dasa asked me if he should run after him to collect his contact details.
“In this particular case, I don’t think so,” I said. “He would have offered that to me if he had wanted to. Besides, he’s fully embraced the essence of Krsna consciousness: the chanting of the holy names. In time, Krsna will arrange whatever he needs to reach the goal.”
As Guru Kripa and I continued walking to our festival, I said, “We are so fortunate to once again witness first-hand the power of the holy names. We are indebted to Srila Prabhupada and Lord Caitanya for this service of introducing people to the glories of those holy names. I feel I could do this forever! And the amazing thing is that Sarvabhauma Bhattacarya says we can!”
“Where does he say that?” Guru Kripa asked.
“In his Susloka-Satakam, text 99,” I replied.
“I have been immersed for many lives in this ocean of birth and death. O Lord Gauracandra! O golden moon-like master! If You bestow upon me continuous service to Your brilliant lotus feet, I shall chant and describe to others the glories of Sri Hari forever.”
As if the meeting with the famous movie producer was not enough, Lord Caitanya had another encounter in store for me, further convincing me of His causeless mercy.
As soon as we entered our festival grounds, Guru Kripa and I headed straight to the sound tent to ensure that everything was running on schedule. The benches in front of the stage were already packed with more than 500 people, leaving only standing room. The introductory kirtan on stage was just concluding when, suddenly, a gentleman tapped me on the shoulder.
“Excuse me,” he said. “Are you the organizer of this event?”
Turning around, I responded, “Yes, sir, I am.”
“Can I speak to you?” he asked.
“Sure,” I replied, stepping out of the tent to speak with him privately.
“Thanks,” he began. “I want to know if this event has any connection to the author Swami Prabhupada?”
His choice of words took me a little by surprise, and I replied, “Swami Prabhupada?”
“Yes,” he continued. “He’s the author of a collection of books called the Srimad Bhagavatam. I was just passing by and I stopped, because I heard the singer on the stage singing, ‘Hey Prabhupada.’”
“Oh, you mean ‘Jaya Prabhupada?’”
“Yes, something like that,” he said.
“Well, yes,” I said. “Srila Prabhupada, as we call him, is the founder of our movement, the Hare Krsna movement, and he has translated and commented on the Srimad Bhagavatam.”
“Swami Prabhupada has a movement?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “It’s all over the world.”
In a surprised tone, he commented, “I wasn’t aware of any movement.”
“Yes,” I said. “And this festival is part of that movement.”
With curiosity, I added, “You said you’ve read Srimad Bhagavatam?”
“Yes,” he replied. “I’ve read a number of what are called cantos. I bought twelve of them online a few years ago when I was searching on the internet for spiritual knowledge. I’ve been reading them every day since then. I am particularly interested in the pastimes of Dhruva Maharaja. But I am glad that I now know that there is a movement of Swami Prabhupada, because he says in his books that we need to find a spiritual master to guide us.”
“I have one important question,” he continued. “Something akin to what the sages of Naimisaranya asked Suta Goswami. May I ask you?”
“Wow, this gentleman really has read the Bhagavatam!” I thought to myself.
“Sure, go ahead,” I said.
“Well, I heard the singers on the stage singing a mantra about Krsna.”
“That’s correct,” I said. “It’s called the Maha Mantra.”
“My question is whether that Hare Krsna mantra is more powerful than, ‘om namo bhagavate vasudevaya,’ the mantra Dhruva Maharaja received from Narada Muni. I ask because I have been chanting that mantra for several years.”
I took the time to explain to him that the Hare Krsna mantra is the recommended mantra for this age. He listened carefully and concluded, “If that is what you say Swami Prabhupada says, then I will switch mantras. But after chanting ‘om namo bhagavate vasudevaya’ for so many years, is there any hope I can develop attraction for the Maha Mantra?”
I thought for a moment and replied, “Yes, there is. Can you stay with us until the end of our event? We’re going to sing the Maha Mantra as the final part of the program.”
“Well, I’m supposed to catch a train in 45 minutes, but I’ll change my plan. I want to see if the Maha Mantra works for me.”
That evening, as I adjusted my harmonium on stage for the final kirtan, I glanced out at the large crowd gathered in front of the stage. Alongside the devotees, many guests who had chanted with us in previous years were eagerly waiting to chant again. Among them was the gentleman who stayed to test the power of the Maha Mantra. I prayed to Lord Caitanya to allow me to chant purely, so that the gentleman might experience the mercy of the holy names.
Surrounded by the many devotee musicians on stage, I closed my eyes and began the kirtan. We started off slowly, all of us meditating on the sweetness of Krsna’s holy names. After about 30 minutes, I picked up the tempo. When I opened my eyes, I saw the entire crowd chanting and dancing in ecstasy in front of the stage. As I scanned the crowd, searching for the gentleman I had been praying for, I suddenly spotted him right up front. He was chanting and dancing with abandon, his arms raised high in the air.
As the kirtan quickened, he became even more enthusiastic and appeared like a firebrand in front of the stage as he danced while loudly chanting the Maha Mantra. Overwhelmed by emotion, I momentarily skipped part of the Hare Krsna mantra while trying to regain my composure. When I finally concluded the kirtan, I saw the gentleman standing there completely stunned, himself overcome by emotion.
Once again, the holy names of Krsna had conquered the heart of a searching soul. And once again, I had come a step closer to having full faith in Krsna’s holy names, brought to us by the all-merciful yuga avatar, Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu.
kṛṣṇotkīrtana-gāna-nartana-kalā-pāthojani-bhrājitā
sad-bhaktāvali-haṁsa-cakra-madhupa-śreṇī-vihārāspadam
karṇānandi-kala-dhvanir vahatu me jihvā-maru-prāṅgaṇe
śrī-caitanya dayā-nidhe tava lasal-līlā-sudhā-svardhunī
“O my merciful Lord Caitanya, may the nectarean Ganges waters of Your transcendental activities flow on the surface of my desertlike tongue. Beautifying these waters are the lotus flowers of singing, dancing and loud chanting of Krsna’s holy name, which are the pleasure abodes of unalloyed devotees. These devotees are compared to swans, ducks and bees. The river’s flowing produces a melodious sound that gladdens their ears.”
[ Sri CaitanyaCaritamrita, Adi-lila 2.2 ]