Srila Prabhupada's Departure for USA - 5th Aug'2001

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Srila Prabhupada Lilamrita SPL 11 - The Dream Come True

by Satsvarupa Dasa Goswami

 

With the manuscript for Volume Three complete and with the money to print

it, Bhaktivedanta Swami once again entered the printing world, purchasing

paper, correcting proofs, and keeping the printer on schedule so that the

book would be finished by January 1965. Thus, by his persistence, he who had

almost no money of his own managed to publish his third large hardbound

volume within a little more than two years.

 

At this rate, with his respect in the scholarly world increasing, he might

soon become a recognized figure amongst his countrymen. But he had his

vision set on the West. And with the third volume now printed, he felt he

was at last prepared. He was sixty-nine and would have to go soon. It had

been more than forty years since Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati had first

asked a young householder in Calcutta to preach Krsna consciousness in the

West. At first it had seemed impossible to Abhay Charan, who had so recently

entered family responsibilities. That obstacle, however, had long ago been

removed, and for more than ten years he had been free to travel. But he had

been penniless (and still was). And he had wanted first to publish some

volumes of Srimad-Bhagavatam to take with him; it had seemed necessary if he

were to do something solid. Now, by Krsna's grace, three volumes were on

hand.

 

Srila Prabhupada: I planned that I must go to America. Generally they go to

London, but I did not want to go to London. I was simply thinking how to go

to New York. I was scheming, "Whether I shall go this way, through Tokyo,

Japan, or that way? Which way is cheaper?" That was my proposal. And I was

targeting to New York always. Sometimes I was dreaming that I have come to

New York.

 

Then Bhaktivedanta Swami met Mr. Agarwal, a Mathura businessman, and

mentioned to him in passing, as he did to almost everyone he met, that he

wanted to go to the West. Although Mr. Agarwal had known Bhaktivedanta Swami

for only a few minutes, he volunteered to try to get him a sponsor in

America. It was something Mr. Agarwal had done a number of times; when he

met a sadhu who mentioned something about going abroad to teach Hindu

culture, he would ask his son Gopal, an engineer in Pennsylvania, to send

back a sponsorship form. When Mr. Agarwal volunteered to help in this way,

Bhaktivedanta Swami urged him please to do so.

 

Srila Prabhupada: I did not say anything seriously to Mr. Agarwal, but

perhaps he took it very seriously. I asked him, "Well, why don't you ask

your son Gopal to sponsor so that I can go there? I want to preach there."

But Bhaktivedanta Swami knew he could not simply dream of going to the West;

he needed money. In March 1965 he made another visit to Bombay, attempting

to sell his books. Again he stayed at the free dharmasala, Premkutir. But

finding customers was difficult. He met Paramananda Bhagwani, a librarian at

Jai Hind College, who purchased books for the college library and then

escorted Bhaktivedanta Swami to a few likely outlets.

 

Mr. Bhagwani: I took him to the Popular Book Depot at Grant Road to help him

in selling books, but they told us they couldn't stock the books because

they don't have much sales on religion. Then we went to another shop nearby,

and the owner also regretted his inability to sell the books. Then he went

to Sadhuvela, near Mahalakshmi temple, and we met the head of the temple

there. He, of course, welcomed us. They have a library of their own, and

they stock religious books, so we approached them to please keep a set there

in their library. They are a wealthy asrama, and yet he also expressed his

inability.

 

Bhaktivedanta Swami returned to Delhi, pursuing the usual avenues of

bookselling and looking for whatever opportunity might arise. And to his

surprise, he was contacted by the Ministry of External Affairs and informed

that his No Objection certificate for going to the U.S. was ready. Since he

had not instigated any proceedings for leaving the country, Bhaktivedanta

Swami had to inquire from the ministry about what had happened. They showed

him the Statutory Declaration Form signed by Mr. Gopal Agarwal of Butler,

Pennsylvania; Mr. Agarwal solemnly declared that he would bear the expenses

of Bhaktivedanta Swami during his stay in the U.S.

 

Srila Prabhupada: Whatever the correspondence was there between the father

and son, I did not know. I simply asked him, "Why don't you ask your son

Gopal to sponsor?" And now, after three or four months, the No Objection

certificate was sent from the Indian Consulate in New York to me. He had

already sponsored my arrival there for one month, and all of a sudden I got

the paper.

 

At his father's request, Gopal Agarwal had done as he had done for several

other sadhus, none of whom had ever gone to America. It was just a

formality, something to satisfy his father. Gopal had requested a form from

the Indian Consulate in New York, obtained a statement from his employer

certifying his monthly salary, gotten a letter from his bank showing his

balance as of April 1965, and had the form notarized. It had been stamped

and approved in New York and sent to Delhi. Now Bhaktivedanta Swami had a

sponsor. But he still needed a passport, visa, P-form, and travel fare.

The passport was not very difficult to obtain. Krishna Pandit helped, and by

June 10 he had his passport. Carefully, he penned in his address at the

Radha-Krsna temple in Chippiwada and wrote his father's name, Gour Mohan De.

He asked Krishna Pandit also to pay for his going abroad, but Krishna Pandit

refused, thinking it against Hindu principles for a sadhu to go abroad-and

also very expensive.

 

With his passport and sponsorship papers, Bhaktivedanta Swami went to

Bombay, not to sell books or raise funds for printing; he wanted a ticket

for America. Again he tried approaching Sumati Morarji. He showed his

sponsorship papers to her secretary, Mr. Choksi, who was impressed and who

went to Mrs. Morarji on his behalf. "The Swami from Vrndavana is back," he

told her. "He has published his book on your donation. He has a sponsor, and

he wants to go to America. He wants you to send him on a Scindia ship." Mrs.

Morarji said no, the Swamiji was too old to go to the United States and

expect to accomplish anything. As Mr. Choksi conveyed to him Mrs. Morarji's

words, Bhaktivedanta Swami listened disapprovingly. She wanted him to stay

in India and complete the Srimad-Bhagavatam. Why go to the States? Finish

the job here.

 

But Bhaktivedanta Swami was fixed on going. He told Mr. Choksi that he

should convince Mrs. Morarji. He coached Mr. Choksi on what he should say:

"I find this gentleman very inspired to go to the States and preach

something to the people there." But when he told Mrs. Morarji, she again

said no. The Swami was not healthy. It would be too cold there. He might not

be able to come back, and she doubted whether he would be able to accomplish

much there. People in America were not so cooperative, and they would

probably not listen to him.

 

Exasperated with Mr. Choksi's ineffectiveness, Bhaktivedanta Swami demanded

a personal interview. It was granted, and a gray-haired, determined

Bhaktivedanta Swami presented his emphatic request: "Please give me one

ticket."

 

Sumati Morarji was concerned. "Swamiji, you are so old-you are taking this

responsibility. Do you think it is all right?"

"No," he reassured her, lifting his hand as if to reassure a doubting

daughter, "it is all right."

"But do you know what my secretaries think? They say, "Swamiji is going to

die there.'"

Bhaktivedanta made a face as if to dismiss a foolish rumor. Again he

insisted that she give him a ticket. "All right," she said. "Get your

P-form, and I will make an arrangement to send you by our ship."

Bhaktivedanta Swami smiled brilliantly and happily left her offices, past

her amazed and skeptical clerks.

 

A "P-form"-another necessity for an Indian national who wants to leave the

country-is a certificate given by the State Bank of India, certifying that

the person has no excessive debts in India and is cleared by the banks. That

would take a while to obtain. And he also did not yet have a U.S. visa. He

needed to pursue these government permissions in Bombay, but he had no place

to stay. So Mrs. Morarji agreed to let him reside at the Scindia Colony, a

compound of apartments for employees of the Scindia Company.

 

He stayed in a small, unfurnished apartment with only his trunk and

typewriter. The resident Scindia employees all knew that Mrs. Morarji was

sending him to the West, and some of them became interested in his cause.

They were impressed, for although he was so old, he was going abroad to

preach. He was a special sadhu, a scholar. They heard from him how he was

taking hundreds of copies of his books with him, but no money. He became a

celebrity at the Scindia Colony. Various families brought him rice, sabji,

and fruit. They brought so much that he could not eat it all, and he

mentioned this to Mr. Choksi. Just accept it and distribute it, Mr. Choksi

advised. Bhaktivedanta Swami then began giving remnants of his food to the

children. Some of the older residents gathered to hear him as he read and

spoke from Srimad-Bhagavatam. Mr. Vasavada, the chief cashier of Scindia,

was particularly impressed and came regularly to learn from the sadhu. Mr.

Vasavada obtained copies of Bhaktivedanta Swami's books and read them in his

home.

 

Bhaktivedanta Swami's apartment shared a roofed-in veranda with Mr.

Nagarajan, a Scindia office worker, and his wife.

 

Mrs. Nagarajan: Every time when I passed that way, he used to be writing or

chanting. I would ask him, "Swamiji, what are you writing?" He used to sit

near the window and one after another was translating the Sanskrit. He gave

me two books and said, "Child, if you read this book, you will understand."

We would have discourses in the house, and four or five Gujarati ladies used

to come. At one of these discourses he told one lady that those who wear

their hair parted on the side-that is not a good idea. Every Indian lady

should have her hair parted in the center. They were very fond of listening

and very keen to hear his discourse.

 

Every day he would go out trying to get his visa and P-form as quickly as

possible, selling his books, and seeking contacts and supporters for his

future Srimad-Bhagavatam publishing. Mr. Nagarajan tried to help. Using the

telephone directory, he made a list of wealthy business and professional men

who were Vaisnavas and might be inclined to assist. Bhaktivedanta Swami's

neighbors at Scindia Colony observed him coming home dead tired in the

evening. He would sit quietly, perhaps feeling morose, some neighbors

thought, but after a while he would sit up, rejuvenated, and start writing.

Mrs. Nagarajan: When he came home we used to give him courage, and we used

to tell him, "Swamiji, one day you will achieve your target." He would say,

"Time is still not right. Time is still not right. They are all ajnanis.

They don't understand. But still I must carry on."

 

Sometimes I would go by, and his cadar would be on the chair, but he would

be sitting on the windowsill. I would ask him, "Swamiji, did you have any

good contacts?" He would say, "Not much today. I didn't get much, and it is

depressing. Tomorrow Krsna will give me more details." And he would sit

there quietly.

 

After ten minutes, he would sit in his chair and start writing. I would

wonder how Swamiji was so tired in one minute and in another minuten Even if

he was tired, he was not defeated. He would never speak discouragement. And

we would always encourage him and say, "If today you don't get it, tomorrow

you will definitely meet some people, and they will encourage you." And my

friends used to come in the morning and in the evening for discourse, and

they would give namaskara and fruits.

 

Mr. Nagarajan: His temperament was very adjustable and homely. Our friends

would offer a few rupees. He would say, "All right. It will help." He used

to walk from our colony to Andheri station. It is two kilometers, and he

used to go there without taking a bus, because he had no money.

 

Bhaktivedanta Swami had a page printed entitled "My Mission," and he would

show it to influential men in his attempts to get further financing for

Srimad-Bhagavatam. The printed statement proposed that God consciousness was

the only remedy for the evils of modern materialistic society. Despite

scientific advancement and material comforts, there was no peace in the

world; therefore, Bhagavad-gita and Srimad-Bhagavatam, the glory of India,

must be spread all over the world.

 

Mrs. Morarji asked Bhaktivedanta Swami if he would read Srimad-Bhagavatam to

her in the evening. He agreed. She began sending her car for him at six

o'clock each evening, and they would sit in her garden, where he would

recite and comment on the Bhagavatam.

 

Mrs. Morarji: He used to come in the evening and sing the verses in rhythmic

tunes, as is usually done with the Bhagavatam. And certain points-when you

sit and discuss, you raise so many points-he was commenting on certain

points, but it was all from the Bhagavatam. So he used to sit and explain to

me and then go. He could give time, and I could hear him. That was for about

ten or fifteen days.

 

His backing by Scindia and his sponsorship in the U.S. were a strong

presentation, and with the help of the people at Scindia he obtained his

visa on July 28, 1965. But the P-form proceedings went slowly and even

threatened to be a last, insurmountable obstacle.

 

Srila Prabhupada: Formerly there was no restriction for going outside. But

for a sannyasi like me, I had so much difficulty obtaining the government

permission to go out. I had applied for the P-form sanction, but no sanction

was coming. Then I went to the State Bank of India. The officer was Mr.

Martarchari. He told me, "Swamiji, you are sponsored by a private man. So we

cannot accept. If you were invited by some institution, then we could

consider. But you are invited by a private man for one month. And after one

month, if you are in difficulty, there will be so many obstacles." But I had

already prepared everything to go. So I said, "What have you done?" He said,

"I have decided not to sanction your P-form." I said, "No, no, don't do

this. You better send me to your superior. It should not be like that."

So he took my request, and he sent the file to the chief official of foreign

exchange-something like that. So he was the supreme man in the State Bank of

India. I went to see him. I asked his secretary, "Do you have such-and-such

a file. You kindly put it to Mr. Rao. I want to see him." So the secretary

agreed, and he put the file, and he put my name down to see him. I was

waiting. So Mr. Rao came personally. He said, "Swamiji, I passed your case.

Don't worry."

 

Following Mrs. Morarji's instruction, her secretary, Mr. Choksi, made final

arrangements for Bhaktivedanta Swami. Since he had no warm clothes, Mr.

Choksi took him to buy a wool jacket and other woolen clothes. Mr. Choksi

spent about 250 rupees on new clothes, including some new dhotis. At

Bhaktivedanta Swami's request, Mr. Choksi printed five hundred copies of a

small pamphlet containing the eight verses written by Lord Caitanya and an

advertisement for Srimad-Bhagavatam, in the context of an advertisement for

the Scindia Steamship Company.

 

Mr. Choksi: I asked him, "Why couldn't you go earlier? Why do you want to go

now to the States, at this age?" He replied that, "I will be able to do

something good, I am sure." His idea was that someone should be there who

would be able to go near people who were lost in life and teach them and

tell them what the correct thing is. I asked him so many times, "Why do you

want to go to the States? Why don't you start something in Bombay or Delhi

or Vrndavana?" I was teasing him also: "You are interested in seeing the

States. Therefore, you want to go. All Swamijis want to go to the States,

and you want to enjoy there." He said, "What I have got to see? I have

finished my life."

 

But sometimes he was hot-tempered. He used to get angry at me for the

delays. "What is this nonsense?" he would say. Then I would understand: he

is getting angry now. Sometimes he would say, "Oh, Mrs. Morarji has still

not signed this paper? She says come back tomorrow, we will talk tomorrow!

What is this? Why this daily going back?" He would get angry. Then I would

say, "You can sit here." But he would say, "How long do I have to sit?" He

would become impatient.

 

Finally Mrs. Morarji scheduled a place for him on one of her ships, the

Jaladuta, which was sailing from Calcutta on August 13. She had made certain

that he would travel on a ship whose captain understood the needs of a

vegetarian and a brahmana. Mrs. Morarji told the Jaladuta's captain, Arun

Pandia, to carry extra vegetables and fruits for the Swami. Mr. Choksi spent

the last two days with Bhaktivedanta Swami in Bombay, picking up the

pamphlets at the press, purchasing clothes, and driving him to the station

to catch the train for Calcutta.

 

He arrived in Calcutta about two weeks before the Jaladuta's departure.

Although he had lived much of his life in the city, he now had nowhere to

stay. It was as he had written in his "Vrndavana-bhajana": "I have my wife,

sons, daughters, grandsons, everything, / But I have no money, so they are a

fruitless glory." Although in this city he had been so carefully nurtured as

a child, those early days were also gone forever: "Where have my loving

father and mother gone to now? / And where are all my elders, who were my

own folk? / Who will give me news of them, tell me who? / All that is left

of this family life is a list of names."

 

Out of the hundreds of people in Calcutta whom Bhaktivedanta Swami knew, he

chose to call on Mr. Sisir Bhattacarya, the flamboyant kirtana singer he had

met a year before at the governor's house in Lucknow. Mr. Bhattacarya was

not a relative, not a disciple, nor even a close friend; but he was willing

to help. Bhaktivedanta Swami called at his place and informed him that he

would be leaving on a cargo ship in a few days; he needed a place to stay,

and he would like to give some lectures. Mr. Bhattacarya immediately began

to arrange a few private meetings at friends' homes, where he would sing and

Bhaktivedanta Swami would then speak.

 

Mr. Bhattacarya thought the sadhu's leaving for America should make an

important news story. He accompanied Bhaktivedanta Swami to all the

newspapers in Calcutta-the Hindustan Standard, the Amrita Bazar Patrika, the

Jugantas, the Statesman, and others. Bhaktivedanta Swami had only one

photograph, a passport photo, and they made a few copies for the newspapers.

Mr. Bhattacarya would try to explain what the Swami was going to do, and the

news writers would listen. But none of them wrote anything. Finally they

visited the Dainik Basumati, a local Bengali daily, which agreed to print a

small article with Bhaktivedanta Swami's picture.

 

A week before his departure, on August 6, Bhaktivedanta Swami traveled to

nearby Mayapur to visit the samadhi of Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati. Then

he returned to Calcutta, where Mr. Bhattacarya continued to assist him with

his final business and speaking engagements.

 

Mr. Bhattacarya: We just took a hired taxi to this place and that place. And

he would go for preaching. I never talked to him during the preaching, but

once when I was coming back from the preaching, I said, "You said this thing

about this. But I tell you it is not this. It is this." I crossed him in

something or argued. And he was furious. Whenever we argued and I said, "No,

I think this is this," then he was shouting. He was very furious. He said,

"You are always saying, "I think, I think, I think.' What is the importance

of what you think? Everything is what you think. But it doesn't matter. It

matters what sastra says. You must follow." I said, "I must do what I think,

what I feel-that is important." He said, "No, you should forget this. You

should forget your desire. You should change your habit. Better you depend

on sastras. You follow what sastra wants you to do, and do it. I am not

telling you what I think, but I am repeating what the sastra says."

As the day of his departure approached, Bhaktivedanta Swami took stock of

his meager possessions. He had only a suitcase, an umbrella, and a supply of

dry cereal. He did not know what he would find to eat in America; perhaps

there would be only meat. If so, he was prepared to live on boiled potatoes

and the cereal. His main baggage, several trunks of his books, was being

handled separately by Scindia Cargo. Two hundred three-volume sets-the very

thought of the books gave him confidence.

 

When the day came for him to leave, he needed that confidence. He was making

a momentous break with his previous life, and he was dangerously old and not

in strong health. And he was going to an unknown and probably unwelcoming

country. To be poor and unknown in India was one thing. Even in these

Kali-yuga days, when India's leaders were rejecting Vedic culture and

imitating the West, it was still India; it was still the remains of Vedic

civilization. He had been able to see millionaires, governors, the prime

minister, simply by showing up at their doors and waiting. A sannyasi was

respected; the Srimad-Bhagavatam was respected. But in America it would be

different. He would be no one, a foreigner. And there was no tradition of

sadhus, no temples, no free asramas. But when he thought of the books he was

bringing-transcendental knowledge in English-he became confident. When he

met someone in America he would give him a flyer: ""Srimad Bhagwatam,'

India's Message of Peace and Goodwill."

 

It was August 13, just a few days before Janmastami, the appearance day

anniversary of Lord Krsna-the next day would be his own sixty-ninth

birthday. During these last years, he had been in Vrndavana for Janmastami.

Many Vrndavana residents would never leave there; they were old and at peace

in Vrndavana. Bhaktivedanta Swami was also concerned that he might die away

from Vrndavana. That was why all the Vaisnava sadhus and widows had taken

vows not to leave, even for Mathura-because to die in Vrndavana was the

perfection of life. And the Hindu tradition was that a sannyasi should not

cross the ocean and go to the land of the mlecchas. But beyond all that was

the desire of Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati, and his desire was

nondifferent from that of Lord Krsna. And Lord Caitanya Mahaprabhu had

predicted that the chanting of Hare Krsna would be known in every town and

village of the world.

 

Bhaktivedanta Swami took a taxi down to the Calcutta port. A few friends and

admirers, along with his son Vrindavan, accompanied him. He writes in his

diary: "Today at 9 a.m. embarked on M.V. Jaladuta. Came with me Bhagwati,

the Dwarwan of Scindia Sansir, Mr. Sen Gupta, Mr. Ali and Vrindaban." He was

carrying a Bengali copy of Caitanya-caritamrta, which he intended to read

during the crossing. Somehow he would be able to cook on board. Or if not,

he could starve- whatever Krsna desired. He checked his essentials:

passenger ticket, passport, visa, P-form, sponsor's address. Finally it was

happening.

 

Srila Prabhupada: With what great difficulty I got out of the country! Some

way or other, by Krsna's grace, I got out so I could spread the Krsna

consciousness movement all over the world. Otherwise, to remain in India-it

was not possible. I wanted to start a movement in India, but I was not at

all encouraged.

 

The black cargo ship, small and weathered, was moored at dockside, a gangway

leading from the dock to the ship's deck. Indian merchant sailors curiously

eyed the elderly saffron-dressed sadhu as he spoke last words to his

companions and then left them and walked determinedly toward the boat.

For thousands of years, krsna-bhakti had been known only in India, not

outside, except in twisted, faithless reports by foreigners. And the only

swamis to have reached America had been nondevotees, Mayavadi

impersonalists. But now Krsna was sending Bhaktivedanta Swami as His

emissary.

 

SPL 12: The Journey to America

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Journey to America

 

Today the ship is plying very smoothly. I feel today better. But I am

feeling separation from Sri Vrindaban and my Lords Sri Govinda, Gopinath,

Radha Damodar. My only solace is Sri Chaitanya Charitamrita in which I am

tasting the nectarine of Lord Chaitanya's lila. I have left Baharatabhumi

just to execute the order of Sri Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati, in pursuance of

Lord Chaitanya's order. I have no qualification, but have taken up the risk

just to carry out the order of His Divine Grace. I depend fully on Their

mercy, so far away from Vrindaban.

-Jaladuta diary

 

September 10, 1965

The Jaladuta is a regular cargo carrier of the Scindia Steam Navigation

Company, but there is a passenger cabin aboard. During the voyage from

Calcutta to New York in August and September of 1965, the cabin was occupied

by "Sri Abhoy Charanaravinda Bhaktivedanta Swami," whose age was listed as

sixty-nine and who was taken on board bearing "a complimentary ticket with

food."

 

The Jaladuta, under the command of Captain Arun Pandia, whose wife was also

aboard, left at 9:00 A.M. on Friday, August 13. In his diary, Srila

Prabhupada noted: "The cabin is quite comfortable, thanks to Lord Sri

Krishna for enlightening Sumati Morarji for all these arrangements. I am

quite comfortable."