This is the email I told you about from Hari Sauri Prabhu.y.s,k.k.das

[Guest guest]

Prabhus, you simply have to read this. Its by a Godbrother,

Paratrikananda prabhu from LA. Its a bit long, but I assure you, you will be

very glad you did. I almost split my sides laughing, and simulataneourly

cried at some of the poignant rememberances of Srila Prabhupada and his

early devotees. Enjoy!

 

Your humble servant,

Hari-sauri dasa

 

Prabhupada's Coming by Paratrikananda dasa

---------------------------

Prabhupada's Coming

by Paratrikananda dasa

 

Preface

 

Although I joined the Krsna consciousness movement many years ago, I can't

honestly say I've been a devotee a long time. Over the years I've drifted

away

from devotional practices I once followed. Many of us have drifted away to

some

degree, and it's a great tragedy. However, if we help each other remember

our

spiritual master and the wonderful times we had serving him, I'm confident

we

can turn things around. "Prabhupada's Coming" was written to reflect my

impressions of the time His Divine Grace was physically with us. Truth be

told,

we had our share of problems and personality clashes, but somehow we managed

because of our mutual love for Srila Prabhupada. It's this mutual love for

him

that moves me to reflect on those times with the deepest admiration and

affection for all the devotees who were there, who shared the experience and

who accepted me as a brother.

 

 

The high regard with which I write of my God brothers and sisters of that

era

is not to imply that devotees of my generation were in some way better than

those of subsequent generations-many devotees from newer generations are

equally dedicated and hard working and their devotion to Prabhupada is

inspirational-rather, I simply beg to share some of my memories. Hopefully

they

will help stimulate your love and appreciation for Srila Prabhupada, his

family

and the missionary spirit embraced during a happier time.

 

 

I began writing, "Prabhupada's Coming," in 1987. It started as a poem, but

after writing a few verses I realized that newer devotees may not relate to

all

the references, so I decided to tell some of the back-story. Over the years

the

back-story grew larger as I compiled more details and anecdotes to help set

the

scene.

 

 

Setting the Scene

 

 

In May of 1970, Srila Prabhupada sent the following message to his temple

presidents:

 

lease accept my blessings. I hope everything is going on well in your

center.

 

As each and every ISKCON Center is my life and soul for preaching this

movement, I hope you are doing your best to conduct the regular routine

duties

of the Temple--chanting regularly the beads, observing the restrictive

regulations, taking Sankirtana Party to the streets, and selling our

magazines

and books...

 

 

 

The men that received this letter were each responsible for one of

twenty-six

temples. It had taken the first four years of Srila Prabhupada's

International

Society for Krishna Consciousness to establish these centers.

 

 

 

In June of 1971, during the Rathayatra Festival in San Francisco, Prabhupada

asked Karandhara, "We have got fifty centers., how many centers now?"

Karandhara replied, "Almost sixty, fifty-eight." In slightly over a year,

thirty-two new centers (almost three a month) had been opened and the number

of

temples had more than doubled!

 

 

 

That was my first Rathayatra and I remember standing in the hall at 4 A.M.

with

scores of other men waiting to use the only bathroom available. Karandhara

prabhu was planted next to the sole bathtub with his stone cold mug fixed on

his watch, counting down the time to make sure no one took more than their

allotted thirty seconds to shower. Some devotees had risen earlier and some

were still doing service from the previous night but there certainly were

well

over a hundred men who used the single bathroom that morning and everyone

made

mangala-aratik on time. Karandhara and Kesava talked about how Prabhupada

would

be pleased because there were so many new devotees this year.

 

 

 

During the festival I overheard one devotee, who apparently was overlooked

for

initiation, tell his friend with all sincerity, "It doesn't matter. I can

serve

Prabhupada whether I'm initiated or not." This struck me and made me a bit

ashamed because I had received initiation a couple months earlier but my

motive

was to insure my own liberation. This prabhu only wanted to serve

Prabhupada.

Here was a real disciple and a vivid example of the selfless attitude that

enabled the movement to grow at such an astonishing rate in the seventies.

 

 

 

My journeys on traveling sankirtan in addition to my own wanderlust during

this

time allowed me to observe the differences and similarities among Krsna

temples

from coast to coast in North America. There were many more similarities than

differences. For example, a devotee visiting any temple was immediately

greeted

with obeisances (the kind where you actually get down on the floor) followed

by

a hug, a flower garland and a big plate of maha prasadam. There was a

palpable

comaraderie and unity of spirit among devotees during this period and the

service rendered by my God brothers and God sisters was accented by

dedication,

simplicity and unwavering attachment to Srila Prabhupada.

 

 

In those days we had no furniture, and everyone slept on the floor.

Offensive

language was never spoken. and seeing a movie or watching TV was

unthinkable.

All Laksmi was turned over to the temple treasurer and all personal

possessions

easily fit in a BTG box. These usually consisted of a Bhagavad-gita, japa

beads, a toothbrush, and perhaps a couple articles of clothing. No one ever

took a day off or went on vacation. From the moment of waking 'til the time

of

rest, devotees would be busy serving Krsna. In fact, it was a general

practice

that if someone finished their assigned duties they would report to the

temple

commander with folded hands and request more service.

 

 

 

Most of the buildings that served as temples were rented houses. It wasn't

hard

to find the Sri Sri Radha Krsna Temple. You knew you had the right place if

you

came across a house painted with a somewhat psychedelic combination of

pastel

yellow, orange, peach or blue and saw long, narrow strips of saffron cloth

hanging out the windows (curiously, one might also see similar strips of

cloth

hanging out the backside of the men's dhotis). To help support the temple,

devotees spent time each week stuffing incense sticks into Spiritual Sky

Incense packages and these were wholesaled to local head shops and retail

stores. A fair amount of the flowers used to decorate the altar were

appropriated from neighboring homes, much to the aggravation of the

homeowners.

This, and hounding people for donations on sankirtan, were our most

notorious

indiscretions of the time. With the exception of a few large centers, most

temples had an average of ten to twenty members, some with as few as two or

three. But these small groups of devotees would regularly perform sankirtan

at

every major venue in a metropolitan area. Although the entire body of

devotees

numbered only in the hundreds, people would often remark that they saw us

everywhere and therefore believed we had many thousands of followers. They

didn't realize they were seeing the same devotees over and over again.

 

 

 

At that time very few devotees had gone to India and almost all our

devotional

articles were makeshift western facsimiles. One temple I stayed in had no

mrdanga so during kirtan a devotee would play the drum beats on a plastic

one

gallon jar. We strung our own japa mala from colored beads-red, yellow,

green

or blue-purchased from local bead shops. Our tilak was made from Fuller's

Earth

which turned white when it dried on the body. Our dhotis and saris were cut

from bolts of polyester cloth. Householders wore yellow then, and the single

men and women both wore saffron. We usually wore t-shirts or button- down

shirts, and at one point the turtleneck became a fashion trend. At times,

even

Srila Prabhupada wore such shirts. A standard element of the Krsna uniform,

for

both men and women, was the cape-a rectangular piece of cloth tied at two

corners, draped over one shoulder and across the chest (now worn exclusively

by

sannyasis). Genuine Indian kurtas and saris were rare commodities and if

anyone

happened to acquire one they became the envy of the temple. For the most

part,

clothing was communal property and you took what you could get. Dirty

clothing

was thrown in a barrel, washed and returned in the same barrel. To find a

matching pair of socks was like discovering gold. To find matching socks

without holes was as rare as pure devotional service. During winter months

devotees wore hooded sweatshirts. In colder parts of the country they'd wear

a

hooded sweatshirt, thermal underwear and an extra pair of socks, which made

it

really hard to keep flip-flops on when trudging through snow.

 

 

 

Before coming to Krsna Consciousness, most of us had been hippies and had

led

lives devoid of any regulation. We were used to going to bed at sunrise and

sleeping ten or more hours a day. But as devotees we rose before the sun

after

five or six hours sleep and often less. The transition was painfully

difficult.

It took me four years before I was able to stay awake during mangala-aratik.

One friend told me he'd been jumping up and down during kirtan and had

fallen

asleep in mid air.

 

 

 

Nevertheless, in the morning everyone would rise by 3:30 or 4:00, including

those who'd been up most of the night doing service or finishing rounds.

We'd

brush our teeth with a toothpaste made from baking soda, salt and mustard

oilYYY-a formula given by Srila Prabhupada. In the dead of winter we

dutifully

took bone chilling, cold showers. Kirk's was the official soap of the

devotees.

To save money, bath towels were cut into two or three pieces, so after

showering we'd dry off with a terry cloth rag about the size of a hand

towel.

Fresh razor blades were uncommon and when it came time to shave up, heads

were

scalped and sikhas hewn with ancient, jagged blades, by God brothers anxious

to

get to aratik on time. Bloodshed was profuse and occasionally a careless

stroke

of the razor would transform someone into a Mayavadi.

 

 

 

As Prabhupada said, our recreation was chanting & dancing. This was the

grandfather of all aerobics and we really got a workout, often jumping up

and

down or back and forth non-stop through the entire aratik. This also helped

us

stay awake because, more often than not, if someone sat down during the

morning

program it meant they were going to sleep. Even the person giving class

would

sometimes nod off in the middle of a sentence. But snoozers didn't dally

long

with maya because there was always one irritating devotee who would place

his

mouth about three inches from his sleeping victim's eardrum and shout, "Hare

Krsna!" The typical response was to indignantly insist, "I'm just resting my

eyes!" But no one could stay awake long while sitting down. The only

exception

to this axiom was when devotees took prasadam. Then the principle

reversed-during prasadam, no one could fall asleep even while sitting down.

But

if you sat down any time other than prasadam, it was just as good as waving

the

white flag to maya.

 

 

 

The alternative was to stand but then you ran the risk of dozing off and

falling over, which is exactly what happened to my God brother, Pratyaya

prabhu. Pratyaya had been working non-stop to prepare for Prabhupada's first

visit to San Diego in 1972. In addition to neglecting sleep he told me he

had

also been neglecting his rounds, believing his service was more important.

One

morning while he stood listening to Prabhupada's Bhagavatam class, he nodded

out and tumbled over like a bag of rice. Despite Pratyaya's sacrifices,

Prabhupada made it decidedly clear later in his lecture that nothing is more

important than finishing your rounds.

 

 

 

Prabhupada: So similarly, how to see God. You will see God with these eyes

when

it is clarified. Premanjana-cchurita, by the ointment of love of Godhead. So

these are the function, how to love. One has to rise early in the morning.

He

doesn't like, but, "No. I will have to satisfy Krsna." This is the

beginning.

 

 

 

Then Prabhupada panned the room and when he came to Pratyaya he stopped and

looked him dead in the eye.

 

 

 

Prabhupada: "Oh, I have to chant sixteen rounds." He is lazy. He doesn't

want

to do it. But if he loves Krsna, he must do it. He must do it.

 

 

 

Pratyaya was stunned by Prabhupada's perceptivity, but also elated to be

personally disciplined by his spiritual master in regard to chanting japa.

 

 

 

The holy name was the linchpin in our relationship with Krsna and devotees

went

to extreme lengths to stay alert while chanting rounds in the morning. One

God

brother, in order to hear his rounds clearly and avoid distractions, would

chant japa with a 5 gallon plastic bucket over his head. I also heard of one

small-framed devotee who chanted his rounds in the utility room while curled

up

inside the clothes dryer. Pinching, straining, stretching, slapping yourself

in

the face, running around the block, chanting japa loudly while leaping up

and

down, plundering the maha sweets, standing in a bucket of cold water, taping

eyelids to the forehead, lightly banging one's head against the wall and

shooting each other in the face with squirt guns; these were some of the

zany

devices devotees employed to stay awake during the brahma-muhurta-the most

sacred period of the day. For visitors, it probably looked like an episode

of

The Three Stooges.

 

 

 

But devotional service was a declaration of war on the external energy and

at

times one would lose the battle. This could be something as innocent as

getting

discouraged on sankirtan, or it could fall under the heading of a bloop.

There

were three types of bloops. The least serious bloop was when a cook ruined a

preparation by burning it, adding too much salt or some other carelessness.

The

most serious bloop, of course, was when someone left the movement. And the

marginal bloop was when someone moved to another temple without

authorization

from his temple president. Ironically, in this case the other temple would

usually see it as Krsna's arrangement rather than blooping because more

often

than not, someone had just blooped from their temple and they needed a

replacement.

 

 

 

Despite all the wacky behavior there was something very noble about the

assembly of devotees. They were sincere and they were trying their very best

to

please Srila Prabhupada. In addition to following the regulative principles

and

chanting sixteen rounds, which was inconceivable to the overwhelming

majority

of the population, devotees had taken upon themselves the enormous task of

helping Prabhupada bring Krsna consciousness to millions of forgetful souls.

 

 

 

After the morning program everyone would help clean the temple and then we'd

all go on sankirtan. We'd cram into one vehicle and drive to a business

district or college campus, chanting rounds along the way and trying

valiantly

to stay awake. Within ten minutes we'd be out cold, but Krsna usually made

sure

there was at least one conscious person in the vehicle who could wake up the

driver.

 

 

 

When we reached our sankirtan spot, we'd scramble out of the van and form a

line facing our audience. The men would be stationed at either end of the

line

with the women in the middle, to insure their safety. A brief pep rally

prefaced the chanting as the sankirtan leader called out, "Back to home!"

with

devotees responding, "Back to Godhead!" We really felt we were going home,

and

this call and response was repeated three times with escalating enthusiasm.

Then the mrdanga came in with a couple bars of pounding rhythm, followed by

the

sizzle of kartals and prayers to our spiritual master. While chanting, we'd

dance in time to the music and in step with one another. Every ten minutes

one

devotee would address the onlookers with a brief explanation of Krsna

consciousness. We'd also chant and dance in procession, moving single file

or

double file up and down the street while remaining in step with each other.

After thirty minutes we'd break into two groups. Half the devotees would

continue chanting and the other half would distribute BTGs, trying to get a

quarter for each magazine. Every half hour the chanters and distributors

would

trade places. At that time it was considered a good day for a small temple

if

the entire sankirtan party distributed two or three dozen BTGs and collected

fifteen to twenty dollars. To sell even one hard back book was nothing short

of

a certified miracle. But later, when we realized Prabhupada's precedent

desire

was to distribute his books, we made that our priority and amazing things

happened.

 

 

 

In 1971, as book distribution was getting off the ground, an average

distributor could easily sell four, five, even six big books a day! And we'd

always stuff about twice as many books as we could sell into our canvas book

bags, just in case we got lucky. Before the discovery of airports and wigs

we'd

spend the entire day running door to door in devotional clothing with thirty

pounds of Krsna books bouncing off our hips. If we went to the store, ran

errands or went out to chant japa, we brought our book bag along and made

sure

everyone that crossed our path had a chance to know about Krsna. And though

sankirtan often meant being ridiculed by the public or harassed by the

police,

we were determined to please our spiritual master by this service and

convinced

that Krsna consciousness would take over the world within twenty years. It

was

exciting and blissful being in the vanguard of Prabhupada's mission.

 

 

 

While preaching, one of the most frequently heard comments was, "You guys

have

an answer for everything." And we did, because we had unshakable faith in

Srila

Prabhupada. Even if we didn't know the answer to a challenging question, if

we

were preaching intrepidly and depending on Krsna, He would provide the

answer

on the spot. It would come to you like a lightning bolt and you could just

stand back and watch in amazement as Krsna used your tongue and your mouth

to

silence the opposition by revealing something even you weren't aware of.

 

 

 

We were a handful of youngsters. We had almost no resources. We had almost

no

experience in spiritual life or in the ways of the world. But we did have

Prabhupada as our spiritual master. And this singular asset gave us

unabashed

confidence to face any adversary-students, professors, scholars, scientists,

politicians, atheists, impersonalists or yogis-it didn't matter. Srila

Prabhupada made a similar declaration during his morning walk at Cheviot

Hills

in 1973:

 

 

 

Just like we dare to face any chemist, any scientist, any philosopher. Why?

On

the strength of Krsna, we believe that "There is Krsna. When I shall talk

with

him, Krsna will give me intelligence." This is the basics. Otherwise, from

qualification, standard, they are very much qualified. We are common laymen

before them. But how do we challenge them? Because we know. Just like a

small

child He can challenge a very big man because he knows, "My father is

there."

He is catching the hand of the father, and he's sure that "Nobody can do

anything to me."

 

 

 

In the evening we'd head back to the temple for prasadam, aratik, and

Bhagavad-gita class. And before taking rest we drank hot banana milk and

read

from Krsna book. We read from each of Srila Prabhupada's books every day, 6

classes in all-Bhagavatam, Nectar of Devotion, TLC, Sri Isopanisad,

Bhagavad-gita and Krsna book. Reading Prabhupada's books was paramount

ecstasy.

He was our absolute authority and practically everything that came out of a

devotee's mouth was prefaced with: "Srila Prabhupada said...". Everything

fell

into one of two categories-bona fide and bogus. All that came from

Prabhupada

was bona fide and anything else was simply bogus.

 

 

 

During the week, prasadam was served on sheets of wax paper to save money.

We

ate with our fingers and refrained from conversation while honoring Krsna's

mercy. The lunch staples were rice, capatis and spicy hot dahl. Dahl

chaunces

were so devastating that when the chaunce pan was flung into a boiling pot

of

dahl, flames would shoot up, blowing the lid off the pot and filling the

kitchen with a dark, pungent cloud that sent everyone scrambling out the

door,

coughing and wheezing.

 

 

 

When Sunday came around most, if not all, the devotees would stay back to

clean

and decorate the temple or help prepare the Sunday Love Feast. The kitchen

was

considered an extension of the deity room and the jurisdiction of Sri Radha.

Some devotees would offer obeisances before beginning kitchen service. Karmi

clothing and prajalpa were strictly forbidden and only initiated Brahmins

could

work with the fire. And the word was, Krsna would not accept an offering

unless

the kitchen was spotless. Pots, utensils and tables were rinsed immediately

before use, even if they'd been cleaned minutes prior. We even kept Krsna's

pots shiny on the outside and often spent an hour or more scouring the

carbon

and rust off the underside of a wok. Preparations were made with utmost

care,

while struggling to refrain from savoring the aroma of the un-offered food.

The

entire process was a meditation on pleasing Krsna. Many of these standards

were

described in a letter Srila Prabhupada wrote to Aniruddha in 1968:

 

 

 

Kitchen should be considered as good as the Lord's room, and nobody should

wear

shoes in the kitchen, smelling and tasting of foods being prepared for the

Lord

should never be done, talking within the kitchen should be only what is

necessary for preparing the prasadam, or about the Lord.

 

 

 

Daily prasadam was irresistible but Sunday feast prasadam was simply beyond

mortal conception-sweet rice flavored with camphor, butter oozing from the

halava, puris puffed like balloons, gulabs exploding in your mouth, saffron

rice with fried curd balls, samosas the size of your fist, exotic lassis,

fresh

milk burfi, crispy golden pakoras, subjis and chutneys so hot your forehead

would sweat, and everything floating in puddles of ghee. We always took to

our

full satisfaction, and then some! After the Sunday lecture we'd have two or

three massive plates of prasadam while preaching to guests. When the guests

went home we'd finish whatever was left on their plates. When that was gone

we'd wipe out whatever was left in the serving containers and pots. And when

the prasadam supply was finally exhausted we'd have a kirtan. We knew

prasadam

was spiritual because it was physically impossible to consume as much as we

did. During my first year of devotional service I heard repeatedly,

"Prabhupada

said new devotees should take so much prasadam that they waddle like a

duck."

This was one instruction I took to heart. But later on, when I tried to

become

more serious about Krsna consciousness, I came to dread Sundays, knowing I

wouldn't be able to control myself during the feast. I felt like a werewolf

on

a full moon night and once I actually asked Bhakta das, my temple president,

to

lock me in the office so my senses wouldn't get the best of me. But he

didn't

take me seriously and I remained a servant of my tongue for a long time.

Controlling the senses was difficult but at least prasadam was non-different

from Krsna. He appeared in this form to help us become attached to Him. In

becoming addicted to prasadam we became addicted to Krsna.

 

 

 

Chanting, dancing, feasting and philosophy. This was Lord Caitanya's

movement-Prabhupada's gift to the world. And although Krsna Consciousness

was

sometimes a struggle, it was always wonderful. Perhaps the most wonderful

part

was how much Prabhupada cared about us despite our deficiencies. We were all

lost souls who had given up on God, turned our backs on religion, and

rejected

the moral standards of our parents. Some of us were drug addicts, some of us

were suicidal, and some of us were just crazy. Some of us were even

civilized

and educated, but none of us had a clue. It was not until we met Srila

Prabhupada that we understood the purpose of life. He brought us hope and

gave

thousands of young hearts a reason to live.

 

 

 

In Prabhupada we realized a gentle father, a trusted friend, an exalted

teacher. He guided us beyond the insanity of materialism and offered us the

precious gift of devotion to Krsna. In return we were fiercely loyal. At a

time

when it was fashionable to sport hair below the shoulder, we shaved our

heads

clean to please him. When sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll were a way of life,

we

gave them up because he asked us to. When love and peace were bywords, he

taught us to stand and fight for Krsna. When others were preparing for their

future, we gave the best years of our lives to him. And although he always

directed our love toward Krsna, that made us love him even more. Whenever he

would visit our temple and we had a chance to see him, it made all our

sacrifices worthwhile. The week prior to his arrival would always turn into

a

'round the clock marathon-remodeling, painting, cleaning, sewing,

decorating,

cooking and publicizing the arrival of, "His Divine Grace A.C. Bhaktivedanta

Swami Prabhupada, Spiritual Master of the Universe". The non-devotees had

their

"Miss Universe" and "Mr. Universe" contests but with Prabhupada there was no

contest. He was the undisputed jagad-guru, Spiritual Master of the Universe,

and we were proud to announce his arrival that way, no matter how strange or

pretentious it sounded to outsiders.

 

 

 

For most of us, physical association with Srila Prabhupada was during

guru-puja

or Bhagavatam class, and occasionally we'd get a chance to offer some

personal

service. We were happy to be menial servants of such a great personality,

though most of the time our service was in separation. That did not imply,

however, that we weren't greedy for Prabhupada's physical association. No

one

could deny there was something magical about being in his presence.

 

 

 

When Prabhupada came to California in the summer of 1972, he spent much of

his

time in Los Angeles, but he also visited smaller temples in the area to

enliven

his disciples. I was on a traveling sankirtan party at that time and somehow

our itinerary just happened to coincide exactly with Srila Prabhupada's

(hmmm.must've been Krsna's arrangement). Every time Prabhupada landed at an

airport or arrived at a temple on his '72 west coast tour, we were there to

greet him. In Los Angeles, ours were faces in the crowd but with consecutive

appearances in a string of smaller temples, those same faces stuck out like

sore thumbs. But we had no shame-we'd do anything to see him. From Southern

California to the Pacific Northwest, we were Prabhupada's unofficial west

coast

welcoming committee. And Prabhupada didn't seem to mind. Perhaps because all

along the way we were distributing his books-we didn't decrease our service.

 

 

 

For Prabhupada's visit to Portland, the devotees had made accommodations for

him in a fancy hotel suite, as the tiny temple facilities were crowded and

inadequate. But Prabhupada wanted to be with the devotees and elected to

stay

at the temple. As no arrangement had been made for him there, he patiently

waited for us to prepare a little space. With expeditious devotion, I helped

scrub and clean the small room and adjacent bathroom that would serve as His

Divine Grace's quarters during his visit. Prabhupada's humility and love for

us

made a deep impression on me.

 

 

 

While Srila Prabhupada was in Los Angeles, I was fortunate to be there also.

In

the morning he'd go for a japa walk then return to greet the deities and

give

class. The devotee that first saw Prabhupada's car in the distance would

enthusiastically cry out, "Prabhupada's coming!," and the message would

quickly

echo throughout the temple. This was our curtain call and upon hearing it

we'd

rush around making final arrangements for the reception of His Divine Grace

and

the greeting of the Lord. Someone would start a kirtan and we'd form two

lines

facing each other in front of the temple. When Prabhupada arrived he'd walk

between us carrying a basket of flowers. He'd stop in front of each devotee,

accept a flower from them, reach into his basket and offer a flower in

return

(to the best of my knowledge this pastime was unique to LA). Then he'd

proceed

to the temple room for darsana.

 

 

 

When greeting the deities, Prabhupada would always offer full dandavats at

each

altar. As he sat on his vyasasana we'd sing the Guruvastakam prayers and

offer

flower petals at his feet (the offering of aratik paraphernalia had not yet

been introduced). Afterwards he'd lead us in an electrifying version of,

"Jaya

Radha Madhava" and deliver a brilliant lecture on Srimad Bhagavatam.

 

 

 

And then the grand finale: Kirtan began slow and purposeful like a

locomotive

leaving the station. Gradually picking up speed, the momentum soared until

the

energy of hundreds crystallized into a single mass. We were Prabhupada's

army

and no force on earth could stop us. The power of serving him was almost

more

than we could wield. Our enthusiasm could not be contained, and it exploded

like a volcano. Chanting and dancing in rampant ecstasy, we affirmed our

allegiance and gratitude to our eternal spiritual master, His Divine Grace

A.C.

Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada.

 

 

 

Inevitably Srila Prabhupada went on to visit other centers in other parts of

the world. But even when Prabhupada wasn't physically present, the devotees

in

some centers would still relay the "Prabhupada's coming" mantra throughout

the

temple when it was time to greet the deities. This was our way of

remembering

him and making the pain of separation a bit more tolerable.

 

 

 

Although many years have passed, we can still foster this mood today. We can

still serve Srila Prabhupada as if his arrival was just around the corner.

We

can meditate on him traveling and preaching throughout the world or the

universe and hope that someday he'll visit us again. And if we believe and

act

as if Prabhupada's coming, he will come. For the only thing that truly

separates us from him is our own consciousness.

 

 

 

 

Prabhupada's Coming

 

 

 

 

We stand waiting for you in front of the temple-

 

a field of orange and yellow

 

 

 

With flowers in our hands, we hope to win your smile

 

We live to serve you

 

 

 

No kurtas or khadi or gopi-candana

 

These are unknown to us

 

 

 

Just western shirts and polyester saffron,

 

Fuller's Earth and off-beat kirtan

 

 

 

Crazy-quilt teenage sadhus

 

You've made us devotees

 

 

 

Vaisnavas in tennis shoes

 

with socks that never match

 

 

 

A most unusual batch of souls

 

waiting just to see you amidst a surge of, "Hari bols",

 

as someone shouts, "He's coming! Prabhupada's coming!"

 

 

 

Hearts and drums beat frantically

 

As your car draws near we realize our great fortune

 

You are Krsna's pure devotee...but so much more

 

No one else could have done what you did

 

 

 

You came into our world of darkness

 

when the others would not venture West

 

It was you who saved us...No one else

 

 

 

You've become our teacher, father and friend

 

-our spiritual master

 

 

 

However many lifetimes it's taken,

 

somehow we've won the privilege of serving you

 

 

 

We've dedicated our lives to the sankirtan movement

 

and your books have been distributed in quantities no one could've imagined

 

This is what pleases you most

 

 

 

"Prabhupada's coming!"

 

 

 

Now our efforts are being rewarded in the best way

 

We want only to be with you

 

 

 

As your car door opens you step out and look our way

 

Appearance thin and small but you stand out like a giant,

 

towering over all your young disciples

 

We love to see you

 

 

 

Faces beaming, touch the sidewalk

 

Obeisances are heartfelt but quickly offered

 

We don't want to lose sight of you for a moment

 

 

 

You exchange flowers and smiles with us

 

Your glance maintains us and allows us to embrace impossible austerity

 

 

 

As you walk toward the temple

 

we scurry after you like anxious ducklings,

 

barely able to keep your pace

 

 

 

"govindam adi-purusam tam aham bhajami

 

govindam adi-purusam tam aham bhajami..."

 

 

 

You approach the altar and pledge your life to Lord Caitanya,

 

lying flat before the Supreme Personality of Godhead

 

 

 

We drop to the floor following your example

 

but we pledge our lives to you...

 

 

 

"venum kvanantam aravinda-dalayataksam

 

bharhavatamsam asitambuda-sundarangam..."

 

 

 

Radha and Krsna greet their beloved servant...

 

 

 

"angani yasya sakalendriya-vrittimanti

 

pasyanti panti kalayanti ciram jaganti..."

 

 

 

The Lord of the universe accepts a third wave of surrender...

 

 

 

"govindam adi purusam tam aham bhaja mi

 

govindam adi purusam tam aham bhaja mi

 

govindam adi purusam tam aham bhaja mi..."

 

 

 

Seated in red and golden splendor,

 

adorned with flowers and pure devotion,

 

the emissary of God appears before us

 

 

 

Crystal water cascades from a silver chalice held high above your open mouth

and your lotus feet are visible to those fortunate to be near the vyasasana

 

 

 

"Jaya Radha Madhava Kunjabi Hari,

 

Gopijana Valabha Girivaridhari..."

 

 

 

Your deep voice resonates

 

-not from this world but from Goloka

 

 

 

The temple is saturated with happiness

 

-an ocean of smiling faces

 

 

 

Your kartals ring sweetly, one cast decisively upon the other

 

as your fingers fan open and close like the tail feathers of a peacock

 

 

 

"Om namo Bhagavate Vasudevaya..."

 

 

 

The compassion of Krsna descends in your chanting

 

Our ears drink the pure sound of your voice

 

 

 

Surrendered devotees, only five or six hours of sleep

 

....there's so much to be done

 

"Krishna, please let me stay awake"

 

...heads bob up and down

 

 

 

Your glasses sit low on your nose

 

and sometimes you peer over the rim at us when emphasizing a point

 

 

 

You urge us to be serious

 

-Don't run the risk of taking birth again

 

 

 

And once more you comfort us with your promise:

 

"Chant sixteen rounds and follow the four regulative principles

 

....at the end of this lifetime go back to home back to Godhead.

 

Thank you very much."

 

 

 

"Jai! All glories to Srila Prabhupada!"

 

 

 

"Nama om Vishnu padaya, Krsna prestaya bhutale,

 

Srimate Bhaktivedanta Swamin iti namine..."

 

 

 

We sway to the sound of the music

 

 

 

"Namaste Sarasvati Devam, Gouravani pracarine,

 

Nirvisesa sunyavadi pascatya desi tarine"

 

 

 

All eyes are fixed on you

 

 

 

"Bhaja Sri Krsna Caitanya, Prabhu Nityananda,

 

Sri Advaita, Gadadhar, Srivas adi Goura Bhakta Vrnda"

 

 

 

Your gong propels the kirtan

 

and your head bounces slightly to the rhythm

 

 

 

"Hare Krsna Hare Krsna, Krsna Krsna Hare Hare

 

Hare Rama Hare Rama, Rama Rama Hare Hare"

 

 

 

Drums pound and kartals resound,

 

battering temple walls

 

 

 

"Hare Krsna Hare Krsna, Krsna Krsna Hare Hare..."

 

 

 

The untamed kirtan swells,

 

decimating our attachment to illusion

 

 

 

"...Hare Rama Hare Rama, Rama Rama Hare Hare"

 

 

 

Defying gravity, we leap to the sky, competing for your glance

 

Wild and wonderful, transcendental, jumping madmen

 

 

 

"Hare Krsna Hare Krsna, Krsna Krsna Hare Hare,

 

Hare Rama Hare Rama, Rama Rama Hare Hare"

 

Nothing can stop us

 

You are the life and soul of the devotees!