Chapter Four

July 21st, 1976

The overnight flight to London was extremely difficult for Śrīla Prabhupāda. It seems that at night airlines lower the cabin temperature. Racked by a heavy cold, Prabhupāda spent practically the whole flight lying down, coughing up large amounts of mucus every few minutes. In fact, he hardly moved at all during the six and a half hour flight.  

In the morning, as arrival into London neared, the airline served breakfast. Prabhupāda tried to eat a little fruit, but he found it very difficult. He was feeling so ill that he called for Gurudāsa Mahārāja, asking him to arrange a wheelchair for his arrival.  

The plane touched down at 7:30 a.m. and Gurudāsa Mahārāja immediately disembarked to get a wheelchair, leaving Śrīla Prabhupāda to wait on the plane. After only a few minutes delay Prabhupāda changed his mind about waiting and began to walk Heathrow Airport’s long corridors toward immigration. He was so ill that he swayed slightly from side to side and had to pause several times to steady himself. I kept right at this side, afraid he might collapse, but Prabhupāda didn’t want to stop and there was nowhere to sit down.  

Gurudāsa returned after five minutes informing us that the airport would supply a wheelchair, but only to the plane itself. They would not send it down the corridor. Not wanting to go all the way back, Prabhupāda continued walking. Two policemen joined us, presumably having been informed that there was a potential emergency. They didn’t speak to us, but kept close behind, walking at a respectful but watchful distance, accompanying Prabhupāda all the way to the immigration desk. 

At the counter there were seats, so Prabhupāda sat down and I went forward with his passport. I requested the young immigration official to please hurry because Prabhupāda was sick. Śrīla Prabhupāda’s passport is thick and has three sections to it, so I patiently stood as the man looked through the whole passport trying to find the visa. Rather than ask if I knew where it was, he turned to the very back and began to look through again. It was apparent that he was taking his time simply to confirm who was in charge. Becoming exasperated, I reached out, took the passport from him and opened it immediately to the visa. Then gave it back. This annoyed the man. In a fit of petulance he grabbed his rubber stamp and poked it in my face. “ ‘Ere, why don’t you stamp it as well, eh?” he shouted childishly. “Go on! Sign it, why don’t you sign it as well?” 

When the policemen looked at him disapprovingly, he cooled right down and stamped the visa. Then, amazingly, as he handed back the passport, he said, “ ‘Ere, isn’t that the author of the Bhagavad-gītā As It Is?”   

That such an apparent rascal would know the Gītā, let alone its author, was astonishing to me. I said, “Yes, it is. How do you know him?” The man said he had purchased a copy of the Gītā on Oxford Street and recognized Śrīla Prabhupāda from his picture.  

I thought, “Well maybe there’s hope yet that he can redeem himself.” I told him that Prabhupāda would be speaking on the Gītā during his stay, and invited the man to Bhaktivedanta Manor to hear him.  

He gave me a smile and thanked me, and with that we were through. 

Leaving the policemen behind, Prabhupāda proceeded through the gate. The local GBC, Jayatīrtha prabhu, Mukunda dāsa and Harikeśa Swami headed the large crowd of joyous devotees greeting His Divine Grace. Blissfully unaware of Śrīla Prabhupāda’s condition, they stepped forward and draped him with colorful garlands of roses and carnations. Rohiṇīnandana dāsa walked alongside holding an elaborately sequined yellow satin umbrella over Prabhupāda’s head and despite his weak condition, Prabhupāda received their offerings gracefully with a smile and praṇāmas. 

 I quickly informed Jayatīrtha that Śrīla Prabhupāda was very sick and requested him to take us to the Manor without delay. He escorted Prabhupāda directly to a waiting Rolls Royce, which was owned and driven by an Indian life member, Mr. Patel.  

With Prabhupāda and Jayatīrtha in the back and Harikeśa and me in the front, we set off on the hour long drive to the Manor. After a mere ten minutes Prabhupāda suddenly asked to stop the car. Pulling up at the roadside, he opened the door and vomited. It was alarming because it consisted more of thick, yellow bile and mucus rather than food waste. All we could do was continue on as quickly as possible to get Śrīla Prabhupāda to the Manor where he could rest.  

A few minutes later I looked around to check on His Divine Grace and was shocked to see Prabhupāda gagging and going through the motions of throwing up without actually doing so. He was gesturing with his hand, moving it in a circular motion from his stomach up to his mouth and back. I shouted to Mr. Patel to stop immediately, and Prabhupāda just got the door open in time before vomiting once more. It was all the more distressing because there was nothing any of us could do to relieve him. Thankfully, we reached the Manor without further incident. 

Bhaktivedanta Manor 

Letchmore Heath, Hertfordshire 

Since Prabhupāda’s quarters are on the upper floor, he was faced with a steep climb up a wide wooden staircase. He stood for a minute at the bottom while we quickly procured a chair, with the idea of carrying him up on it. He actually sat down on it, but as I fumbled around trying to coordinate how to lift it with two men holding the front legs and me holding the back, Prabhupāda lost patience. Without a word, he stood up, climbed the stairs and left us behind holding the empty seat.  

Entering his rooms, he immediately took rest for the remainder of the day. He took no prasādam, no massage and received no visitors. He did, however, see Nirañjana dāsa, an young Indian college student, and one of his oldest disciples here, Kṣīrodakaśāyī Viṣṇu dāsa, a middle-aged Indian businessman who joined in London when the devotees were first starting up. He and his wife Kīrtimā dāsī were initiated in 1969. He was sitting out on the lawns and Prabhupāda saw him through the window and had him brought up. While Prabhupāda rested in bed he discussed with them whether a Gujarati Āyurvedic doctor could be brought. Then Kṣīrodakaśāyī Viṣṇu had his son bring from their home in London the Āyurvedic medicine, Cyavana-prasha, which is good for congestions and chest ailments and acts as a general tonic, as well as some Āyurvedic cough drops. Nirañjana also gave Prabhupāda a powdered medicine called Sitopalādi-cūrṇa which he mixed with honey and crushed cardamon into a paste. In addition we made a hot ginger brew with a little honey for him. Prabhupāda requested that we give him these medicines every day, as they seemed to have a salutary effect.  

The British weather certainly doesn’t seem conducive to Prabhupāda’s quick recovery. Although it is mid-July and there has been a drought here for the past two months, the daytime is barely warm and it grew surprisingly chilly in the evening. 

July 22nd, 1976

After his prolonged rest, Prabhupāda seems to have recovered a little this morning. Although he decided to greet the Deities, it was a great strain on him. He had heart palpitations coming back up the staircase. He is still very weak. Later he attempted to eat some breakfast, but managed only two spoonfuls of fruit. 

He refused his massage, and bathed by wiping himself with a sponge. He ate no lunch, save for a couple of small spoonfuls of khicharī brought by Kṣīrodakaśāyī Viṣṇu  prabhu, which Prabhupāda ate while sitting up on the side of his bed, the plate on his lap. 

During the day he called in Harikeśa Mahārāja, and told him that he wanted to return immediately to Bombay, for the climate there suited him much more favorably. Extensive inquiries, however, indicated that there were no airplane seats available until the 26th, so Prabhupāda put off making a decision for the time being. 

* * * 

After resting all afternoon Śrīla Prabhupāda called in Harikeśa Mahārāja and Jayatīrtha prabhu, who has just taken over as the GBC here since April. He preached and chatted for a couple of hours, which was very encouraging to everyone. Though very ill, he could not resist talking about Lord Kṛṣṇa and preaching to us. Somehow even in failing health he still finds the strength for kṛṣṇa-kathā.  

July 23rd, 1976

Prabhupāda called us servants in early this morning at around 5:00 a.m. He then preached to us until 7:00 a.m. Then, feeling enlivened, he went to greet the Deities. The devotees were extremely happy to see him, and he them. 

 There was, however, one disturbance. As Prabhupāda offered his prostrated obeisances to the beautiful forms of Śrī Śrī Rādhā-Gokulānanda, a devotee came forward and touched his feet. Prabhupāda was annoyed. When he got up he stopped his darśana and turned to see who had done it. He didn’t like that it was done in front of the Deities and he warned that it should not happen again. 

He stayed to give class, and it astonished me how he was able to summon the necessary strength, for he had not eaten a bite for two days. He continued with the Caitanya-caritāmṛta verse he was speaking on in New York. The verse described Lord Kṛṣṇa’s potencies as inconceivable to the common man, but to the Lord as natural as heat and light are to fire. For the benefit of his new audience, Prabhupāda brought in the same themes he had preached on so much in America: life on other planets, and the logic of the mother (nature) and her children (the living beings) as proof that there is a supreme father.  

“We cannot conceive that in the fire also there can be living entities. And why not? There are five elements, matter. So if earth is producing life, if water is producing life, if air is producing life, why not fire? What is the fault there? Everything is producing life. So the mother produces children. So many children are coming out—tāsāṁ brahma mahad yoniḥ.Yoni means mother. So the children are there, the mother is there, and where is the father? A common sense. Is there any mother can produce children without father? Is there any science can prove that a mother without connection with the father has produced child? No. If you say, ‘I cannot see the father.’ You do not see your fathers. There are many children nowadays who do not know who is father. But that does not mean there is no father. Common sense. There is father. Similarly, we see so many living entities produced by the mother, material nature—there must be father. And the Father personally says, ahaṁ bīja-pradaḥ pitā, ‘I am the Father.’ So why these rascals they say that there is no God. There must be God, and He has inconceivable potencies. Everything is being done by Him. If you say nature is doing, nature is a machine. Nature is not the doer. So less intelligent, for them, it is inconceivable, but those who are intelligent, they take knowledge from the right source.” 

He then explained that that source was the Vedas, also called Veda-mātā. “This Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement is not blind. Don’t think wrongly. We are confident. We sometimes challenge big, big scientists. On what ground? Not whimsically, but on the ground of śāstra. So we may not please everyone, but we cannot go out of this scope. We know that in the moon planet, in the Mars planet and all other planets, Jupiter and others, there are living entities, there is a predominating deity in each and every planet. Just like Kṛṣṇa says, imaṁ vivasvate yogaṁ proktavān aham avyayam. So if there is no living entity in the sun planet, how there is Vivasvān, the sun-god or the predominating deity in the sun planet. So we cannot believe this version that there is no living entity in the sun, moon, or . . . There are living entities . . . Full of, janākīrṇa, this word is used—congested. Just like here in this planet we are congested—so many living entities, different varieties. Similarly, the same congestion is there in all other planets. So do not try to poke your nose [in that] which is inconceivable. And that also is not assertion. You say, ‘Perhaps,’ ‘Maybe,’ ‘Millions of years,’ ‘It might have been’—all suggestion. So if you want knowledge, then you have to consult this Vedic knowledge.” 

He went on to explain that the purpose of the Vedas was to know Kṛṣṇa as the Supreme Lord. “In this life one can understand what is God, what is Kṛṣṇa. Just like we are trying; that is possible. But if we do not take advantage of this human form of life to understand what is God, what is Kṛṣṇa, then you are lowest of the mankind. And if we say that ‘There are so many doctors of philosophy, doctors of science, they are also hovering under this darkness, how is that? Then what about their education?’ Yes, their education certainly, but māyayāpahṛta-jñānāḥ. The result of education—knowledge—that is taken away by māyā. Therefore we should not be washed away by these mūḍhas’ conclusion, narādhamas’ conclusion, māyayāpahṛta-jñānas’ conclusion. We should take up seriously the conclusion in the śāstra, conclusion given by Kṛṣṇa. Then our life will be successful. Thank you very much.” 

His dynamic lecture showed us once again that Prabhupāda’s physical condition may be weak, but his spiritual potency remains unchecked. It is as inconceivable and natural as the Lord’s own energies. 

* * * 

After taking a very small amount of fruit for breakfast Prabhupāda complained of exhaustion. He rested for a long while. His cold is now subsiding, but only after continually coughing up mucus for two days. He is still very, very weak, but he took his massage for the first time since our arrival, although he continued to wipe himself down with a sponge rather than take a full bath. 

* * * 

Bhagavān prabhu has been attempting to arrange a meeting with the Pope. Prabhupāda was scheduled to visit the new center in Rome, with a meeting with the Pontiff on the agenda, but after some discussion Prabhupāda decided it would be too much endeavor. He questioned the practical advantage of meeting the Pope, saying that simply meeting big men and showing no profit was the business of his Godbrothers like Bon and Tīrtha Mahārājas. He noted that they always advertise that they met this one or that one, but no actual preaching about Kṛṣṇa consciousness was really accomplished.  

To illustrate the point he told us the story of the tiger and the crane. There was once a tiger who, after eating a small animal, got a bone stuck in his throat. Not being able to dislodge it he called to the crane, “My dear friend, you have a nice long beak. Kindly put your head in my mouth and remove this bone. Otherwise I shall die. Do not be afraid, I shall not harm you, and I shall be very pleased with you.” Naturally the crane was wary, for after all the tiger’s business was to eat other animals like himself. But he thought that since the tiger is so powerful, if he actually removed the bone, certainly he would give him some benediction. So he agreed and stuck his head in the tiger’s mouth. The crane then successfully removed the bone. Relieved, the tiger was about to go when he saw the crane still standing before him expectantly.  

“Well, what is it?” the tiger growled. 

“My dear sir,” said the crane, “I have done what you requested and removed the bone. Kindly give me some benediction.” 

 “What?” roared the tiger, “I have allowed you to put your head in my mouth without biting it off and you want something more?”  

Prabhupāda then explained that although his Godbrothers go to call on the so-called leaders of society expecting something from them, the leader is thinking, “What, I have given you some of my time and still you want something more?” He said that the conclusion was that there is no profit to be had in meetings such as these. Therefore he decided to tell Bhagavān not to bother arranging a meeting with the Pope. 

* * * 

In the afternoon Mukunda brought Mr. Cline Cross, the religious correspondent for the Observer newspaper, along with his photographer Tony Craw for a brief interview. Mr. Cross was an intelligent, respectful gentleman, but didn’t ask many questions. He had already watched the film Spiritual Frontier and had read up a little on the philosophy. Prabhupāda started out by asking him. “So you are observing our Movement?” 

“Yes. Really for the first time at close quarters.” 

“First time?” Prabhupāda said, a little surprised. “We are here for the last seven years.” 

“Yes, I know a little about you. But it’s only in the last hour that I’ve really begun to learn.” 

Prabhupāda joked good humoredly, “Your paper is Observer. Why did you not observe for the last seven years?” 

Then Śrīla Prabhupāda asked, “So you are religious observer. What is your idea of religion?” 

“I would say much the same as yours,” Mr. Cross said, “from what I’ve seen in your writings—that there’s an underlying truth behind all religion. Would you agree with that?” 

Śrīla Prabhupāda explained that the basic idea of religion was to understand the supreme controller. He said this was common to all religions. When Mr. Cross asked him what he thought about Christianity, Prabhupāda told him, “Don’t come to Christianity. I am talking on religion, the science of religion.” He told him there was no question of Christian, Muslim or Hindu; just as when one deals with gold, it does not matter where it has come from. “Whether it is gold,” Prabhupāda said. “That is our business.” 

“Would you count Jesus Christ as gold?” 

“Yes, why not?” Prabhupāda said. “He’s speaking about the supreme controller, God, so why should we not? Anyone who is speaking about God . . . Religion without science or philosophy is sentiment. And philosophy without religion is mental speculation. So they must be combined together. So far the controller is concerned, this is a scientific understanding. Just like the father. We consider . . . why we? Everyone. Either he is Christian or Muhammadan or Hindu, the conception of God is generally accepted as the Supreme Father.” He explained his logic of the mother and children once more, concluding that there must be a father.  

Mr. Cross listened with appreciation but he didn’t respond to the philosophical concepts Prabhupāda put before him. Instead, he asked why Prabhupāda thought that the Christian church was losing its followers. “In England, the Christian church in recent years, or recent decades, has been doing very badly. Your teaching could perhaps provide a substitute for the more traditional type of Christian teaching.” 

“Yes, this is the science. Therefore I say religion without scientific idea, that is sentiment; it has no value. This is basic principle of religion that the mother is there, the children are there—there must be father. If you say, ‘I do not see what is God,’ it doesn’t matter. Sometimes the child after birth does not see his father. But that does not mean that he has no father, because without father there is no possibility of his existence.” 

Mr. Cross switched subjects, and asked about Śrīla Prabhupāda personally. “What impelled you, when you, at a fairly late stage in life, to come to the West to teach?” 

“I must be prepared to teach,” Prabhupāda told him. “Teaching is not so easy thing. I was ordered to teach at the age of twenty-five years by my Guru Mahārāja. But I was finding out the opportunity how to take up the work. So it took me so many years, so that at seventy years I came out for teaching.” 

“Why particularly in the West?” 

“Because my Guru Mahārāja ordered that, ‘You go and teach this gospel in the Western world.’ 

“And are you surprised at the great success you’ve had?” Mr. Cross asked. 

“That is my Guru Mahārāja’s blessing. He ordered me, I tried my best, so there is little success. When I see so many boys and hundreds of centers, they are living very peacefully in a nice house, getting good prasādam, having good knowledge in the books, and reforming their character, and getting some good home, that is my success. Otherwise, they are loitering, no home, no character, no peace of mind. So at least this is my success. I have given so many boys a life.” 

Mr. Cross had no further questions and began to take his leave. “Well, I’m very honored to have met you. I’ve read some of your work; I intend to read more.” 

Prabhupāda smiled and thanked him. “Yes. So we are trying to give the best service to human society, and this is the only service. People should come forward and cooperate with us. It is not a sectarian sentimental religious system. It is a scientific understanding of the value of life.” 

* * *  

Despite his own illness, Prabhupāda remains as full of regard as ever for others. When Mukunda came in his room looking pale and gaunt, Prabhupāda became very concerned. Wanting assurance that his disciple was all right, he asked if he was keeping his health and if he needed anything. 

* * * 

Śrīla Prabhupāda skipped his evening massage tonight. 

July 24th, 1976

Ekādaśī.  

Śrīla Prabhupāda had a quiet day. He took a light massage and ate a little more than the last few days. He also replied to one or two pieces of mail.  

Girirāja prabhu wrote from Bombay, informing Prabhupāda of the latest developments. A life member from Poona, Mr. S. P. Malhotra has offered thirty-five acres of farmable land along with a four bedroom guest house, in Mahabaleshwar, which Girirāja described as “the most important hill stay in Maharashtra” and “the Switzerland of Maharashtra.” Girirāja suggested that it would be an ideal place for Śrīla Prabhupāda to sit peacefully and translate his books and the devotees could farm it and the foreign devotees could use it as a place to recoup their health. He invited him to visit it when he arrives back in India and make a decision then whether to accept it or not. 

Girirāja is also keen to start a Marathi version of Bhagawat Darshan, our Indian equivalent of Back to Godhead magazine. He feels it is long overdue and he suggested that local members could do the translation work and Lokanātha Swami could edit and approve it. 

As well as this, he reported that another life member, Mr. G. D. Binani wants to encourage the production of our Hindi publications. “He may be inclined to contribute Rs. 100,000 for Bhagawat Darshan but he wants the phrase ‘Subsidized by the Binani Trust’ included in every issue of the magazine. Mr. Binani says that he wants our propaganda to increase and that as we expand the circulation of Bhagawat Darshan he will also give us more and more money. . . . He said that people who donate Rs. 25,000 can get their name permanently inscribed on a marble plaque in our temples but that he was more inclined to give for the publication of our literatures.” 

Girirāja has also met with Mrs. Birla, the mother of Ashok, and he feels she may be inclined to help with the gurukula project at Hare Krishna Land. 

He also reported that they were working with lawyers to draft an appeal for tax exemption on the basis that we are a research organization and their recommendations regarding ISKCON’s present constitution will be presented to Śrīla Prabhupāda for approval when he arrives. 

Prabhupāda liked the prospect of the hill station. “This news of the donation of Mr. Malhotra is very good. Take the land and utilize it. Many good guests will come to such a place and I will also come. Estimate the cost and we shall do it immediately. I will come and see the land upon arriving in Bombay.” 

He was also enthusiastic about the Mahrathi Bhagawat Darshan and especially the offer made by Mr. Binani. “This idea of Mr. Binani’s is very good; you should encourage him. You may say that the entire expense of this issue has been met by the Binani Trust. This will encourage the other trusts to also contribute. It is very nice that he wants to help the printing of literatures. The construction of the temple is going on, now let us have new publications.” 

Nirañjana dāsa has given Prabhupāda his Hindi translation of The Nectar of Devotion and Prabhupāda told Girirāja that he was sending it to him by separate registered post for printing, thus expanding the functions of the temple there. “Our Bombay center is a general cultural institution for the education of scientific knowledge and spiritual life,” he told him.  

Describing Ashok Birla’s mother as a “good lady” he asked Girirāja to extend his blessings to her.  

Finally, regarding the research tax exemption, he said, “We have got so many Phd’s also, and are starting the Bhaktivedanta Institute for making research work for the improvement of the economic condition of the world. We are introducing many farms and they are very successful. We want to introduce this in India also.” 

The other letter he replied was the one from Puṣṭa Kṛṣṇa Swami that I had read out to him on the plane from New York. Without commenting specifically on the difficulties Puṣṭa was obviously suffering from by the contents of his letter, Śrīla Prabhupāda offered him encouragement and hope. “I am very pleased that you are preaching for preaching is our main line. Harikesa Swami was also doing preaching work and now you are also. Preaching is the most important business. Although my personal service is also important, the preaching work comes first. I want every one of our men to become first class preachers. So you want to preach that is best. Don’t be worried, but go on with your preaching and you will be happy.” 

* * * 

Harikeśa Mahārāja made a booking for a direct flight to Bombay rather than through Europe in case Prabhupāda wants to return to India. Prabhupāda is still undecided at this point. 

* * * 

Shocked to see Prabhupāda missing a tooth since the last time he had seen him, Harikeśa asked him what had happened. I presumed it was the tooth that gave him so much trouble in Toronto, but Prabhupāda hadn’t ever mentioned it. 

To Harikeśa’s query he simply laughed. “My teeth are all rotten and want to fall out, but on account of this toothpaste they are forced to remain!”  

His fortitude is inconceivable. What ordinary man could endure the pain and loss of a whole tooth and not mention a word of it? 

* * * 

In the early evening Prabhupāda gave a general darśana in the large sitting room because so many devotees have not been able to see him. Jayatīrtha prabhu especially wanted the new devotees to have the chance to meet him. The most actively devoted members of the Indian community also came.  

In the course of the discussion an Indian man complained that last Janmāṣṭamī he had to purchase prasādam from a stall on the grounds. He said that it should have been given freely because it was the mercy of God.  

Prabhupāda expertly countered him by saying, “The real position is that you should be giving to this Movement. But because you won’t, so we have to charge.” Everyone laughed and the man fell silent. 

* * * 

Śrīla Prabhupāda’s health is gradually improving and the cold is receding. 

Instead of taking his nightly massage lying on his bed, this evening Prabhupāda sat in his rocking chair. He put his feet up on a pouffe and had me massage them for about half an hour.  

He has not done any translation work since we have been here, preferring to rest and get his strength back. 

July 25th, 1976

Today was Sunday and Prabhupāda decided to go ahead with plans to visit the temple in London. Although he is still very weak and his respiratory tracts are thick with mucus, he went just to have darśana of Śrī Śrī Rādhā-Londonīśvara. They were the first large Deities he installed in the West, and he has a special affection for Them.  

Before we left, the devotees came in with the Observer which carried a four column article by Colin Cross on his meeting with Śrīla Prabhupāda. Actually it contained very little of Prabhupāda’s own words, it was mainly an essay on Colin’s own impressions, interspersed with various facts about Prabhupāda and the Movement. He described his interview as an “unnerving experience” and his meeting with several shaven headed devotees as “oddly disquieting.” But it was generally favorable however, and it at least contained the whole mahā-mantra. His description of Harikeśa gave us a laugh. “Eventually His Divine Grace’s private secretary—a monk with a face and manner that would not have been out of place at the Vatican—arrived to say that the moment for the audience had come.” Harikeśa happens to be from an Italian family.  

On the way into London I was thinking of the conversation with Kulaśekhara dāsa in New Vrindaban, and Śrīla Prabhupāda’s unwillingness to declare Śrī Śrī Rādhā-Vṛndāvana-candra as more attractive than Śrī Śrī Rādhā-Londonīśvara. I asked Prabhupāda if these were indeed his favorite Deities. He confirmed they were.  

Before going to the temple, Jayatīrtha prabhu took Śrīla Prabhupāda to see the outside of a building on Soho Street, just off famous Oxford Street. It was formerly a pub, but is now vacant. Jayatīrtha explained that if the devotees bought it they would completely renovate it, turning it into a restaurant downstairs and a temple upstairs.  

The building itself wasn’t impressive—its size could only be described as adequate; but the location is difficult to beat and that is what Prabhupāda appreciated most. When Jayatīrtha assured Prabhupāda they would be able to buy it without taking a BBT loan, he gave his approval for the purchase. 

7 Bury Place 

Bloomsbury, London, WC1 

Śrī Śrī Rādhā-Londonīśvara’s home is a small terraced house near the British Museum. There are five floors, with a series of small rooms off a steep and narrow wooden staircase connecting top to bottom. The temple room can barely hold thirty people, with a low ceiling and narrow walls. Prabhupāda commented that the building is worthless but the location very important. There has been a tremendous push by the neighbors to have the temple closed down, but somehow or other the devotees have managed to keep ahead of the city authorities and stay open.  

He was very pleased to see how well the devotees were looking after the Deities. After offering his daṇḍavats and taking a little caraṇāmṛta, he sat on his vyāsāsana in front of Their Lordships and gave a talk encouraging the devotees to continue without being disturbed.  

Citing the examples of Prahlāda Mahārāja and Haridāsa Ṭhākura, Prabhupāda told his disciples to follow the advice of Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu. “You should always expect some obstruction by the demonic party; that is not very astonishing. But still, we have to do our business and be tolerant. Be humble, be tolerant, don’t be agitated—then your business will suffer. This is māyā’s kingdom, the test is always there. Combating is always there, and māyā’s party is very strong. Especially the present moment, Kali-yuga, the atheistic persons are almost everyone.” 

Describing the material world as a very dangerous place, he advised the devotees to remain sober. They should stick to the spiritual principles, read his books and avoid being discouraged. If the karmīs were successful in having them evicted, he said that Lord Kṛṣṇa would certainly provide another suitable place.  

“But go on executing your routine work,” he said. “I am very glad to see that you are taking care of the Deities very nicely. Whenever I come I see. This is very encouraging. . . . So God consciousness means you have to face difficulty, but you should not be discouraged. You must go on with your business, then success is sure. When there is difficulty, a devotee thinks, ‘It is my good fortune that Kṛṣṇa has given some difficulty to counteract my previous bad action.’ So in this way, if we live, then mukti-pade sa dayā-bhāk. If one is not opposed by all these difficulties and with determination he goes forward, then for him going back to home, back to Godhead is guaranteed. Dayā-bhāk means it is inherited. Just like the son gets the father’s property, there is no law to check it. Similarly, those who are humbly, tolerantly, going on with Kṛṣṇa consciousness with full determination, for them going back to home, back to Godhead, is fully guaranteed.” 

He left the cramped temple room to ascend the steep stairs to his room. Due to his heart palpitations it was a difficult climb. As he entered his room he told Jayatīrtha that they have a elevator in Paris.  

Prabhupāda took breakfast there and then decided to remain for his rest period afterward.  

* * * 

At 11:20 a.m. Śrīla Prabhupāda went to visit the home of Kṣīrodakaśāyī prabhu at 108 Ellesmere Road, NW10. He has made his house a temple by installing a beautiful set of small Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa Deities, and holds regular programs attended by groups of his friends and neighbors.  

A small crowd of about forty guests and a dozen devotees was already gathered in anticipation of his visit when Prabhupāda arrived. Greeted with thin strands of stephanotis flowers and roses, Prabhupāda entered through the front door and went straight into the former living room, now a modest but attractive temple room for Śrī Śrī Rādhā-Govinda. The place was festively decorated with streamers and BBT posters adorned the walls. Kṣīrodakaśāyī Viṣṇu  invited Prabhupāda to sit on a red velvet covered vyāsāsana in the corner next to the altar and he and Jayatīrtha bathed Prabhupāda’s feet. Without the formality of guru-pūjā Prabhupāda went straight into a lecture.  

It was standing room only in the room and corridors as he spoke from Bhagavad-gītā 13.3. He had Kṣīrodakasāyī explain the verse in Hindi before speaking strongly for about thirty-five minutes in English. He delineated the difference between ourselves and God, and between Kṛṣṇa and the demigods. Then he encouraged everyone to take advantage of the facility provided by his disciple. “So this institution, Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement, we have started. Now we have opened this center. I am very glad that you are coming here. But study the science of Kṛṣṇa. Don’t remain blind. The science of Kṛṣṇa means science of God. The human life is meant for understanding the science of God. Athāto brahma-jijñāsā, this is the Vedānta-sūtra. ‘This human form of life is meant for inquiring about the Absolute Truth,Brahman.’ That Brahman,Parabrahman, is Kṛṣṇa. So don’t waste your time even by a minute. Try to understand the science of Kṛṣṇa. That is the only business. Other business, they are subsidiary. They are not very important business. Why Kṛṣṇa understanding is important business? Because it will give you liberation from this material condition life.”  

Prabhupāda complimented his disciple on having Deities in his home and said that such a program should be expanded. He was also happy to hear that Kṣīrodakaśāyī Viṣṇu received Gujarati and Hindi literature from India for distribution to the local Indian community.  

After speaking for some time, he called a halt. Then, before retiring upstairs for his massage, a complete bath, and prasādam, he took a quick tour of the house. In one room Kṣīrodakaśāyī showed him a huge library of several thousand books, mostly Gita Press editions.  

Kīrtimā dāsī cooked, and afterward Prabhupāda decided to stay until after his afternoon rest.  

By 3:30 p.m. the place was filled again with more visitors and, on Kṣīrodakaśāyī Viṣṇu’s request, Prabhupāda received a few special guests up in his room before coming down to give another talk to the general body. This time he spoke in Hindi, since many were older Indian immigrants and many have not yet gained a full grasp of the English language. While recommending them to visit the Rādhā-Govinda Mandira on a regular basis, he also encouraged the visitors to follow Kṣīrodakaśāyī Viṣṇu’s example by worshipping in their own homes.  

* * * 

I took Prabhupāda’s permission to return early to Bhaktivedanta Manor to meet my parents and other family members. I left at two o’clock and got there just as they walked through the front gates. I first took my afternoon bath and then went out onto to the smooth lawn for our first meeting since I emigrated to Australia in April of 1971.  

Everything about me and our surroundings was new to them. They had never met or seen the devotees before and seemed quite fascinated by a group of them chanting at one side of the garden. After warm embraces and a few minutes chatting to acclimatize, I took them on a guided tour around the seventeen acres of grounds and through the historic rooms of the Manor house. The whole family had come and were all pleased to see me, impressed with the facilities and with the devotees as well.  

The strangeness of their surroundings put me at an advantage in explaining everything about our activities. My mother was especially impressed with the gold leafed temple room and the opulence and beauty of the Deities. My only disappointment was that when I asked one of the devotees if some prasādam was available, he informed me there was nothing left. 

My elder brother, Brian, studied marine biology at Bangor University. He was a typical skeptic scientist and we had a friendly debate as we walked the grounds. He was a tough nut, unwilling to suspend his absolute trust in his own mind and senses in order to venture into the higher realm of revelation and surrender to God. At one point I explained that God, Kṛṣṇa, was an objective reality, regardless of whether we understand Him or not. He told me that as far as he was concerned, it was all just a question of what you believe. “If you believe there is a God, fine. If you don’t believe there is a God, fine.”  

He was stumped when I told him, “Its not a question of belief. It is a fact. You might not believe that someone on the other side of the world in Russia is making an atom bomb, and you can go on living in your own little world. But if he drops it on your head then what is the value of your belief? You’ll be forced to accept, like it or not.”  

At another point he rapped his knuckles on the wooden staircase banister and told me, “Look, I believe in whatever you can touch, or see, or smell, or perceive with your senses. That is real. There’s nothing beyond that.”  

Again I easily defeated his argument with some commonsense logic learned from Śrīla Prabhupāda. “Do I have a mind?” I asked him. “You can’t see it, you can’t touch it, you can’t smell it, you can’t hear it and you can’t taste it. But you know I have a mind, and so you do too. There are many things beyond your senses and to know about them you have to hear from an authority. You will never understand them with your limited faculties.” Although he remained unconvinced, I was very happy that he and my mother pooled together and bought a Bhagavad-gītā As It Is to take home with them. 

They had a four-hour drive home, so at five o’clock we stood just outside the main gates to say our goodbyes. I was lamenting to myself that they had not been fortunate enough to see Śrīla Prabhupāda when suddenly the Rolls Royce appeared and entered the temple grounds with His Divine Grace in the back. Almost instantaneously a large group of chanting, dancing devotees came to greet him. Telling my family to wait, I ran around the side of the building after the car. My father and mother were so astonished at the scene that they followed me in, just managing to get a glimpse of Prabhupāda as he climbed out of the car and entered the Manor.  

After offering my obeisances I returned to my parents. I explained to my father that the “commotion” as he put it, that he had just witnessed was the way the devotees usually greeted Prabhupāda. He was mystified and intrigued by the joyous uproar, and I thought I’d like to introduce them to Śrīla Prabhupāda. Unfortunately they were pressed for time, and with Prabhupāda’s weak condition I wasn’t sure how long they would have to wait before seeing him. Thus they missed the opportunity of personal darśana with His Divine Grace. Nevertheless, the brief spiritual contact they experienced by their visit left them all happy, especially with regard to the change in my character.  

When I had left home five years earlier I had an abominable demeanor. I was always angry, ready for a fight and extremely frustrated. As my mother said, I had a “big chip on my shoulder.” From today’s meeting they saw I was now completely changed for the better under Śrīla Prabhupāda’s influence, so they thought that he must be a remarkable man indeed. They did not understand our philosophy, but they could see in me its practical effects, and so concluded that it must be a good thing. 

After bidding them farewell, I went up to Prabhupāda’s room. He asked me what had transpired, and was pleased to hear that they liked everything. “So, they took prasādam?” he asked.  

My face fell and I had to admit they had not.  

Prabhupāda’s instant look of disappointment and his simple, “Oh,” was as much to say, “Well, what was the use of inviting them, then?”  

But apart from that, he enjoyed hearing of my conversations with them. I told him of an exchange with my father where I had told him that the goal of our activity was to go back to Godhead by absorbing our thoughts in Kṛṣṇa. I had warned him that he was risking another birth in the material world because at the end of his life he would certainly think only of his family. Puzzlement crossing his face, he had replied, “Well, of course I will.”  

Śrīla Prabhupāda laughed, and knitting his brow like a man bewildered, he mimicked, “Yes, I must!” as if to say, for a materially absorbed man, what else is there? 

* * * 

At 7:30 p.m. there was still a large crowd of Indians present. They had come from all over England by the bus load, and so Jayatīrtha prabhu asked Prabhupāda if he would like to give them darśana out on the lawn. Despite his already hectic day, Prabhupāda readily agreed. He not only gave a darśana; he also gave a lecture.  

Sitting on a vyāsāsana on the edge of the lawn, he first had one of the devotees speak in Hindi. Then he delivered a cathartic speech based on the verse beginning śrī-caitanya-mano-’bhīṣṭaṁ sthāpitaṁ yena bhū-tale. He said the purpose of Lord Caitanya’s movement was to establish as many Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa temples as possible. The beginning was in Vṛndāvana with the Madana-mohana temple. Now, he said, there are three Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa temples here in England and everyone should take full advantage of them. He pointed out that it was not just Hindus or Indians who were coming. Anyone could come and they should be judged according to their devotion to Kṛṣṇa, not by any other criteria. “So far Kṛṣṇa bhajana is concerned, there is no such distinction of caste, creed, nation, religion, no—everyone. This is Caitanya Mahāprabhu’s word, and Kṛṣṇa’s personal words are, in the Bhagavad-gītā,māṁ hi pārtha vyapāśritya ye ’pi syuḥ pāpa-yonayaḥ. People are generally against the mlecchas,yavanas or the caṇḍālas because according to Vedic system, the brāhmaṇas, the kṣatriya, they are supposed to be pious family. Less than that, even woman, they are not so pious. So in that sense there is discrimination. But Kṛṣṇa says that anyone, it doesn’t matter, even he belongs to the pāpa-yoni, low grade family. And because women and vaiśyas and śūdras are also considered as less important, so Kṛṣṇa mentions, te ’pi yānti parāṁ gatiṁ: ‘Even women, śūdras, or the vaiśyas, everyone can be elevated to the higher transcendental platform, parāṁ gatim.’ Gati means advancement, stepping forward. So everyone is given this advantage of stepping forward. There are two ways stepping forward: one way, go to hell; and another way, go to Kṛṣṇa, stepping forward.” 

Quoting from Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, he described the type of person who takes the path leading away from the supreme destination. “Their consciousness is not for Kṛṣṇa. Matir na kṛṣṇe. Why they are not Kṛṣṇa conscious? They cannot be? No, they cannot be. Matir na kṛṣṇe parataḥ svato vā, by personal deliberation or by congregation deliberation, or by the instruction of the spiritual master. Mitho ’bhipadyeta gṛha-vratānām. Gṛha- vratānām. There are different meanings of gṛha. Especially gṛha, we mean the home, house. Gṛha-vrata and gṛhastha, they are two different. Gṛhastha means although he is in gṛha, household life, his purpose is to go back to home, back to Godhead. And whose only purpose is to live at home, decorate the home, decorate the wife, decorate the children and make money to live very comfortably—they are called gṛhavrata or gṛhamedhī. So those who are not following this principle of varṇāśrama-dharma, living like cats and dogs, they also live with wife, children. That sort of living is called gṛha-vrata.Matir na kṛṣṇe: ‘They cannot become Kṛṣṇa conscious.’ Why? Now, adānta-gobhiḥ. Go means ‘senses.’ Go means ‘cow.’ Go means ‘land’ also. So anyone who has taken the vow of sense gratification . . .  That is the modern world, that ‘Somehow or other, satisfy senses.’ They cannot control the senses. Adānta.Danta means controlled. Adānta, not controlled. So what is that? Viśatāṁ tamisram: ‘They are going toward hell,’ because this unrestricted sense gratification process, he is creating a situation of different mentality and that mentality will be prominent at the time of death, and according to that situation he’ll get his next birth. Therefore we have to become very, very careful. This life I may be born in big nation, America, or English nation, or some other nation, or family. But if I create a mentality of cats and dogs or if I do not take advantage of this human form of life, I remain dull as the trees or the animals. Then next life we have to accept a similar body. This is the law of nature. You can say or I can say that ‘I do not believe in the next life,’ but that is not the fact.” 

He explained to his alert audience how birth as a human being means having the power to discriminate.“You have to make your choice whether you are going to hell or you are going back to home, back to Godhead. If you don’t make your choice, if you miss this opportunity, then you are committing suicide. You are knowingly drinking poison. As Narottama dāsa Ṭhākura says, hari hari biphale, janama goṅāinu: ‘My Lord Kṛṣṇa, I have wasted my time without any meaning, without any good result.’ Why? No, manuṣya janma pāiyā rādhā kṛṣṇa nā bhajiyā, jāniyā śuniyā viṣa khāinu: ‘I got this human form of life. It was an opportunity to worship Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa, but I did not do it. I simply wasted my time in sense gratification. This means knowingly I have drunk poison.’ Anyone can drink poison if he likes; nobody can check. But it is a fact that if one does not become Kṛṣṇa conscious in this human form of life, he is drinking poison knowingly. So people should be very careful and take advantage of this Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement. 

“It is vijñāna, a great science,” he went on to say. “Don’t think that ‘These people are sentimentally chanting and dancing.’ That is the process, very easy made for this age. But if you think yourself that you are a great scientist, great philosopher, then we have got eighty-four books of four hundred pages. If you have got actually learning, you can study them. We can convince you. And people are becoming convinced. We are selling books all over the world, daily, sixty thousand dollars’ worth. People are receiving, and they are appreciating. We have got big, big learned scholars’ opinion. So the idea is that you must take to the Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement, otherwise you are drinking poison knowingly.” 

Then, after stressing that one must have specific knowledge of who is God, he took questions. One man asked what was the necessity of the four regulative principles. Prabhupāda replied by describing the four kinds of people who do not surrender to Kṛṣṇa. He said that all of them were categorized as duṣkṛtinaḥ. Although their material activities may be beneficial, because they do not utilize their talents for Kṛṣṇa their lives are spoiled. “So why this meritorious person or educated person, they do not take to Kṛṣṇa consciousness? That means dull brain. So in order to make the dull brain suitable for understanding Kṛṣṇa, these four principles of austerities is the first need: no illicit sex, no meat-eating, no gambling, no intoxication. Then his brain, the finer tissues of the brain, will develop to understand Kṛṣṇa. Otherwise, not possible.” 

As the evening chill set in he brought the session to a close, retiring to his room. He called in Harikeśa and Jayatīrtha and after a half hour of hearing various arguments in favor of continuing with his European tour, he decided that he wanted to return to Bombay straight away. 

July 26th, 1976

Giving four lectures, traveling in and out of London and going up and down the stairs in each place he visited yesterday put a great strain on His Divine Grace. He rested almost the entire morning, although he has begun to eat more today. He allowed Harikeśa Mahārāja to bring a newly arrived letter from Jayapatāka Swami, and he promptly answered it.  

Jayapatāka Mahārāja first reported on the progress of the land acquisition application. Now it is in the hands of the Chief Minister of Bengal, awaiting his approval. Jayapatāka suggested it may be necessary for Śrīla Prabhupāda to meet personally with him. 

Māyāpur also had a visit from the Pro–Vice-Chancellor of the University of Calcutta and a group of professors. Jayapatāka Mahārāja said the Chancellor was writing an approval, with some conditions, for an application we have made to start a Ph.D. college. The devotees fed them sumptuous prasādam which they found so tasty they requested more for their families at home. The gurukula boys did a recitation by memory of the first chapter of Gītār-gān which gave the visitors great pleasure. 

Apart from this he said they were about to publish the first Bengali Bhagawat Darshan in several years.  

Jayapatāka ended with a sincere homage. “Your books are a source of refuge for the whole world, because they are revealing Krishna and devotional service to Krishna. This has not been done before. . . . Therefore, everyone is in great debt to Your Divine Grace. As your humble disciples kindly be pleased to empower us to enlighten everyone about your glories.” 

Prabhupāda’s response to the suggestion that he meet the Chief Minister over the acquisition proposal was interesting. Rather than agreeing, he replied, “As far as going to see the Chief Minister is concerned, let him decide on the merit of the report. A full report is there in hand, so let him decide as he likes. If the Chief Minister comes to Mayapur then that is all right. Otherwise officially whatever he likes he can decide on the merit of the project.” 

As far as the approval of the University Vice-Chancellor was concerned Prabhupāda told him “First we must know the conditions which they are asking of us to fulfill. It was very good that they liked the prasadam. Introduce the recitation of Gitar gan in every school. That will be a nice credit.” 

He appreciated Jayapatāka’s final prayer and humbly returned the praise. “The latest report from Tamal Krsna Goswami is that we are selling $60,000 worth of our books daily. It is because you are helping me that all this has become possible otherwise how can I do anything alone, ekaki amara nahi paya bol, Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu says that I cannot do anything, alone I am helpless. So Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu is Krsna Himself and He wants the help of His devotees and what to speak of me.” 

* * * 

Gurudāsa Mahārāja brought George Harrison to see Śrīla Prabhupāda at 3:00 in the afternoon. George is an old friend of Gurudāsa and Mukunda and he was happy to respond to Śrīla Prabhupāda’s invitation to come and see him. George has not been very actively involved with us lately, but he is still very favorable and certainly likes to chant the mahā-mantra. George struck me as a good candidate for spiritual advancement—unpretentious and humble. He lacked the air of self-importance one usually associates with those who have attained some status in life, and he was at ease in the presence of devotees. 

Prabhupāda was resting in bed when he arrived. There is a standing rule that Śrīla Prabhupāda is never to be woken for any reason, but for George, Prabhupāda made an exception. I went into the bedroom and informed him George had arrived.  

“Yes, bring him immediately,” he said. And then, rather than come into the sitting room, he sat up in bed to talk to George. 

When he entered Prabhupāda had a seat brought for him and instructed us to feed him some prasādam. We set up small tables for George and some of the senior men. Prabhupāda engaged him in light conversation as they ate. 

Having been informed of Śrīla Prabhupāda’s illness, George inquired, “How do you feel?” 

Prabhupāda smiled. “I have old man’s disease, cough and cold, so coughing. But still, work is going on. And I shall complete eighty years this month, September, eighty-one. So now, due to age, it is becoming little difficult.” Then Prabhupāda asked George how he was and if he was still chanting.  

George said he was, and Prabhupāda replied, “Thank you. That is our life and soul. Gṛhe vā vanete thāko, ’ha gaurāṇga ’bole ḍāko. Wherever you live, it doesn’t matter, chant Hare Kṛṣṇa. That’s all. That is our only support.” 

George complimented Śrīla Prabhupāda that he was pleased to see that his disciples were looking healthy and strong.  

Prabhupāda chuckled. “Yes. Phalena paricīyate. By the result, one has to study. Yesterday, one devotee’s father and mother came, Hari Śauri. She and his father were very pleased to see him healthy, bright. So we are inviting everyone, ‘Come here. Such a nice house given by George. You live here comfortably, eat nicely and chant Hare Kṛṣṇa.’ We don’t want any factory work.” Prabhupāda laughed. “Simply karatāla and mṛdaṅga. Still, people do not come. They’ll prefer to go the factory, whole day work in the hell.”  

“I suppose some day the whole of the world will just be chanting in the country,” George mused. 

“That is not possible,” Prabhupāda said, “but if some of the leading men, they take it seriously, then others will follow. Just like in our book, your signature is there, ‘Oh, George Harrison. Yes.’ They take it without any consideration, Kṛṣṇa book. Yad yad ācarati śreṣṭhas tat tad evetaro janaḥ. If the leading man does something, then his followers also do. This is the way. So if some of the leading men of the world, they take this Movement seriously, then people will be happy. There’s no doubt about it.” 

All the while Prabhupāda attentively supervised the serving of prasādam. Noticing which preparations George had a taste for, he told us to give him more. At the same time he kept him at ease with sweet words. “Hare Kṛṣṇa. You give him two more samosās, he likes it. Yes. All the boys and girls are so nicely qualified for Kṛṣṇa’s service.” 

George expressed pleasure at seeing his old friends. “They are looking better and better all the time. It’s nice for me to see Gurudāsa. He’s turning into a mountain!”  

Prabhupāda smiled. Then, referring to Yamunā dāsī, he said, “His wife has also [become] sannyāsī, renounced. Have you seen her lately? She has cut hair and white dress, living alone in the temple. Vairāgya-vidyā-nija-bhakti-yoga. This bhakti-yoga means vairāgya-vidyā, means detachment. That is the perfection of life. If we remain attached, that is conditional. Māyā has made so many things attractive so that we have to remain attached. And to come out of this attachment is called bhakti.” 

Referring to the current drought, George said there was a lot of concern over how dry it was. He said some claimed it was a result of too much pollution.  

Prabhupāda told him it was the result of too much sinful activity, especially the killing of innocent animals. Prabhupāda also told Jayatīrtha prabhu to arrange for the Manor’s grounds to be watered as he was concerned the grass was yellowing. 

George ate steadily with Prabhupāda ensuring he had enough. When he offered more samosās, George laughed. “I’ve got plenty, thanks.” 

Prabhupāda also laughed. “Prasādam, we can eat up to the neck! There is no harm. You’ll never get indigestion. You have got some fruits?” 

Prabhupāda continued to encourage him, offering cauliflower, mango drink and other preparations. “Take little.” 

George was doing his best, responding warmly to Prabhupāda’s hospitality. “I can’t finish,” he laughed. He said he had been sick with jaundice recently. He had turned yellow and his liver had been affected. He thought he had contracted it from eating Chinese take-away food.  

Śrīla Prabhupāda advised him to cook simple foods for himself.  

As conversations are wont to do, theirs meandered from one subject to another. Prabhupāda mentioned our growing number of Govinda’s restaurants, and asked George if he had met Ambarīṣa. He also filled him in on the successful New York Ratha-yātrā.  

Prabhupāda also told him about the Māyāpur project. “We are just attempting a big planetarium in Māyāpur. We have asked government to acquire land, three hundred and fifty acres. That is negotiation going on. We shall give a Vedic planetarium.”  

Gurudāsa furnished some of the details. “The planetarium will be three hundred fifty feet high and show the cosmology of the spiritual world.”  

Prabhupāda added, “The construction will be like your Washington capital, like that.” 

“A big dome?” George asked. 

“Yes. Estimated eight crores of rupees.” Then Prabhupāda offered him more dāl and fruit.  

George was grinning as he said, “Very good. Fantastic. Maybe just a little bit of, but now I’m not . . . Thanks. That’s fine. No, okay, thanks, fine, that’s enough, that’s fine.” 

Prabhupāda smiled. “That watermelon, you can give. It is water.” 

Prabhupāda asked George if he was reading his books at all.  

George said he was, mainly the Kṛṣṇa book. “Mukunda gave me the new books, but there’s so much in, ah, there’s just so much to read. I don’t know how anybody could have written it; it’s difficult enough to read all that amount.” 

Prabhupāda acknowledged his appreciation. “Sometimes they are surprised how one man can write so many books, but it is Kṛṣṇa’s grace,” he said humbly. “Otherwise not possible. For a human being, it is not possible.” 

As they chatted, Prabhupāda ensured a steady flow of prasādam. “Pradyumna, give him little, this one here.” 

“Oh, no, no. Please, no more,” George laughed. “I’m really full. I won’t have to eat for a few days.”  

That was the signal for the finale. “Sweets,” Prabhupāda offered.  

George smiled and conceded. “Very well.” 

“Sweet will help you digest,” Prabhupāda said. To the server he instructed, “Don’t give three—at least four.” 

With George protesting that he wouldn’t be able to eat much more, Prabhupāda explained, “Three is given to the enemy. According to our Indian system, if you give somebody three, that means he is enemy.” 

George was a little surprised. “Oh, really? I always liked the number three.” 

While waiting to be served some fruit, Prabhupāda listed three enemies; kāma, krodha, lobha—lust, anger and greed. 

“Yes. But there’s a lot of nice threes,” George said.  

Prabhupāda agreed. “Yes. Just like Brahmā, Viṣṇu, Maheśvara. Three worlds, Śaṅkha, Martya, Padma. Trinity. These are nice things.” 

George gallantly tackled the sweets. As he downed the last one he declared, “My compliments to the chef.” 

While we cleared away the small tables and pots, Śrīla Prabhupāda thanked George for coming. “So I am very much pleased that you take so much trouble to come here.” 

“It’s my pleasure,” George smiled. Then he asked, “Are you ever going to stop traveling?” 

“That is Kṛṣṇa’s desire. I don’t want personally. But if Kṛṣṇa wants, that is everything. We have got more hundred and two centers in different parts of the world.” 

“Still six more to go,” George said, aware of the auspiciousness of one hundred and eight.  

Prabhupāda then told him about Detroit, inviting him to visit. He also mentioned New Māyāpur, the French farm.  

When Jayatīrtha prabhu said he thought we would have a hundred and eight temples by this year, Śrīla Prabhupāda downplayed it. “We want worker. Otherwise, Kṛṣṇa is giving us so many centers. In India I can get so many places, but how to manage? Simply taking from persons. And if I cannot manage nicely, that does not look well. Therefore I say first of all get men, then take donation. There is no harm. How many devotees were living here?” 

“There’s about a hundred, Śrīla Prabhupāda,” Jayatīrtha informed him. 

“Yes, then it is all right. And if there was no devotees, ten devotees, then how could we manage?” 

When Jayatīrtha said it took ten to fifteen devotees full time to simply look after the grounds, Prabhupāda revived his concern about the lack of irrigation water.  

George chipped in with some knowledgeable advice about how to establish a bore well, based on his personal experience with his estate in Henly-on-Thames. 

Śrīla Prabhupāda then asked George if he would like to take a little rest after eating. George declined, suggesting that Śrīla Prabhupāda himself might need some rest. The other devotees echoed his concern. As he sat up in his bed, his elbows resting on a pillow across his knees, Prabhupāda grinned. “I am taking rest now these twenty-four hours. I have no other business than to take rest.” 

“Always resting at the lotus feet of Śrī Kṛṣṇa,” Jayatīrtha prabhu said reverentially. 

Prabhupāda paused a second and responded with devotional objectivity. “That is real rest.” He quoted a verse the saintly King Kulaśekhara wrote in the Mukunda-mālā-stotra. “Kṛṣṇa tvadīya-pada-paṅkaja-pañjarāntam. The paṅkaja means lotus flower. So Kṛṣṇa’s lotus feet is just like lotus flower. The lotus flower has stem down; and the swans, they take pleasure to go down in the water and be entangled by the stem. Have you seen their pleasure? Yes. That is their great sporting, to be entangled by the stem and come out, in this way, go deep, this is their sporting. So this Kulaśekhara is praying, ‘My Lord Kṛṣṇa, let my swan of mind be entangled with the stem of Your lotus feet.’ Adyaiva, ‘immediately;’ viśatu, ‘let enter.’ Who? Mānasa-rāja-haṁsaḥ, ‘my mind which is just like a swan.’ So why adyaiva—immediately? He says that prāṇa-prayāṇa-samaye. ‘At the time of death,’ kapha-vāta-pittaiḥ, ‘when the physical condition of the body will be in disorder,’ kaṇṭhāvarodhana. ‘At that time I shall not be able to speak. I’ll ahn, ahn, but that’s all. So I may not be able to chant Hare Kṛṣṇa. Better I am now in good health, so let my mind be entangled in the stem of Your lotus feet.’ Very nice poetry.” 

The Sanskrit verse rolled off his tongue once more in a rhythmic, melodious flow, pleasing the ears, minds and hearts of the small assembly. He went on, “ ‘At that time I may be not able to utter Kṛṣṇa or think of You. And now I am healthy, let me finish this business.’ That means, ‘Let me die immediately. Now I’m healthy, I’m quite fit.’ This is the ideal. Ante nārāyaṇa-smṛtiḥ. At the time of death, if one remembers Kṛṣṇa, then his life is successful. Immediately he goes to Kṛṣṇa. Just like Ajāmila; he chanted ‘Nārāyaṇa,’ and immediately his path to Vaikuṇṭha became clear. So this practice means, whatever we practice all through life, there is chance of coming that remembrance at the time of death, and then life is successful. If at the time of death one can remember Kṛṣṇa, then his whole life is successful.”  

Prabhupāda told a story to illustrate this point. “Our one students, Kārttikeya, his mother was very fortunate. So his mother had nothing to do with this Society, but the boy was attached, and she heard several times ‘Kṛṣṇa,’ that this boy is attached to Kṛṣṇa. At the time of her death, she asked her son, ‘Is your Kṛṣṇa here?’—and died. Just see how fortunate she is. She simply uttered this word, ‘Is your Kṛṣṇa here?’ then she died. Very fortunate. So on account of her son she got salvation. 

 “Otherwise, Kārttikeya told me that he went to see his mother, and the mother was going to ball dance, and the mother did not receive him well. ‘All right, you sit down. I’ll come again.’ She was such lady. But by Kṛṣṇa’s grace, at the time of death, she inquired her son, ‘Is your Kṛṣṇa here?’ Very fortunate.” 

Prabhupāda’s narrative inspired George to describe his own experience of dealing with death. “When my mother died, I had to send my sister and father out of the room because they were getting emotional. And I just chanted Hare Kṛṣṇa.” 

“Oh, very nice,” Prabhupāda said. “So she could hear?” 

“I don’t know,” George said. “I don’t know, she was in like a coma or something. It was the only thing I could think of. In 1970. It was the only thing I could think of that may be of value, you know.” 

“Anyway,” Prabhupāda told him, “if she has heard Hare Kṛṣṇa, she’ll get the benefit. Either she chants, or somebody chanting, if she hears, śravaṇaṁ kīrtanam, both the same thing. Little chance, sv-alpam apy asya dharmasya trāyate mahato bhayāt. So let us practice in such a way that at the time of death we may remember. That is success.” 

Prabhupāda again asked George if he was reading Kṛṣṇa book. 

George said that once in while he did but he always carried a Bhagavad-gītā with him wherever he went. He admitted that he wasn’t a great reader. 

Prabhupāda chuckled. “No, you have got chance here to think soberly. But on account of your chanting ‘Kṛṣṇa’ so many people are chanting.” 

George displayed his natural modestly saying, “I don’t think it’s on my account.” 

“No,” Prabhupāda said approvingly. “They say, ‘George chants Hare Kṛṣṇa.’ They say, do they not?” 

Mukunda prabhu assured him it was true.  

“And you have got many thousands followers,” Prabhupāda added.  

George was self-effacing. “It’s nice, but I think we all . . . ” 

“Anyway,” Prabhupāda said, “you go on chanting. That will influence.” To encourage him further, he cited Rūpa Gosvāmī in Caitanya-caritāmṛta. “There is a poetry, ‘I do not know what sweetness there is in these two words, Kṛṣ-ṇa.’ ” 

The conversation then progressed to the topic of gurukula. George said that, “all kinds of strange things” were written in the newspapers about the Dallas school. He was quick to add that he didn’t necessarily believe them.  

The devotees also mentioned the half dozen new schools that were opened this year.  

Śrīla Prabhupāda had Pradyumna read the Sanskrit and translations for the first fourteen verses of Chapter Twelve from the newly-published Seventh Canto part three in which the brahmacārī training given in the gurukula is described. 

George listened carefully, and at the end of the recitation Prabhupāda presented him with his personal copy of the book. George appeared to be very grateful for this.  

It was evident that although George appreciated hearing the Bhāgavatam verses, his mind was focused on Prabhupāda’s previous comment about the holy name. “Yes. But I thought you were saying something about the sound of the two sounds of Kṛṣ and ṇa.”  

Raṇacora dāsa looked up the verse up, while George expressed his respect for Śrīla Prabhupāda’s hard labor. “These books are such a lot of work. I don’t know how he did it all.” 

Gurudāsa Mahārāja explained that Śrīla Prabhupāda translated at night, and Prabhupāda added, “At night I don’t sleep, not that because I am nowadays sick, but generally—I don’t sleep. At most two hours. I take little rest during daytime. So on the whole, three to four hours. But actually, I do not like to sleep.” 

George empathized. “No, it’s a waste of time.” 

“I think it is. When I go to sleep I think that now I’m going to waste my time. I actually think like that.” 

“What’s the word for it?” George said. “They call it a little death. Sleep is the little death.” 

Prabhupāda quoted Prahlāda’s instructions in the Seventh Canto part two. “He’s estimating you have got hundred years at most. Out of that, fifty years lost, sleep. And then twenty years playing as child, a boy.” He then had me read out the verses that describe how a materially attached person wastes an entire life of one hundred years.  

George showed some interest in those verses, so Prabhupāda gave him that volume too. Turning to the devotees, he asked, “Kṛṣṇa varṇa-dvayī, you have got that?” 

“Raṇacora found it,” Jayatīrtha said. Then he read, “Tuṇḍe tāṇḍavinī ratiṁ vitanute tuṇḍāvalī labdhaye. And the translation is, ‘I do not know how much nectar the two syllables kṛṣ-ṇa have produced. When the holy name of Kṛṣṇa is chanted, it appears to dance within the mouth. We then desire many, many mouths. When that name enters the holes of the ears, we desire many millions of ears. And when the holy name dances in the courtyard of the heart, it conquers the activities of the mind, and therefore all the senses become inert.’ ”  

Prabhupāda smiled. “That is very nice poetry.” He asked Pradyumna to recite the full Sanskrit, instructing me to record him doing it. “In India,” Prabhupāda told George, “all different states they have different alphabets, but the Sanskrit is the same; there is no change in Sanskrit. India’s culture, all the provinces, they talk a little Sanskrit. If you chant this mantra according to the Sanskrit tune, oh, your admirers will take it very nicely. And that will be a great benefit to the mass of people.” 

George was laughing, “I don’t know if they’d like it. Already they don’t understand such a lot, even if you say it in English.” 

“That word Kṛṣṇa, if they hear, that will be sufficient,” Prabhupāda assured him. 

George told him about his visit to Vṛndāvana, and a song he picked up there. “We were singing, in the morning, singing this ‘Jaya Kṛṣṇa.’ This person said to me, ‘You should make it into a song in English.’ So I wrote English verses, and in each chorus it has ‘jaya kṛṣṇa, jaya kṛṣṇa, kṛṣṇa, jaya kṛṣṇa, jaya śrī-kṛṣṇa; jaya rādhe, jaya rādhe, rādhe, jaya rādhe, jaya śrī-rādhe.’ I don’t know if you heard that song. It was on that Extra Texture. I wrote the English words: ‘He whose eyes have seen, what our lives have been, and who we really are, it is He, jaya śrī-kṛṣṇa.’ And then it has a chorus. ‘He whose sweetness flows, to any one of those, that cares to look His way, see His smile, jaya śrī-rādhe,’ then the chorus again. And, ‘He who is complete, three worlds at His feet, cause of every star, it is He, jaya śrī-kṛṣṇa.’ It’s a nice song. I took the tune that we sang in Vṛndāvana, and just made it slightly different, you know, with chord patterns.” 

“So in your next record, you can give this.” Prabhupāda smiled.  

Pradyumna sang the verse out loud three or four more times in a lilting, harmonic cadence. When he finished I slipped the cassette out and handed it to George. 

George told Prabhupāda about a friend who was trying to think of a name for his little girl. “I told him to call it Dhārā, you know? ’Cause from Rādhā—rādhārādhārādhā—it becomes dhārā. So he called his girl that name.” 

Jayatīrtha pointed out how George had followed in the footsteps of the great sage Nārada Muni without even realizing it. “Valmīki was a murderer, or a dacoit, thief. So he was met by Nārada Muni. And he was advised by Nārada Muni to please chant the holy name of the Lord and give up this thievery. So he wouldn’t. So instead Nārada Muni said, ‘You chant māra.’ Māra means ‘death,’ so he agreed.” 

Prabhupāda explained. “Māramāra—rāma.” 

“Later on, this Valmīki,” Jayatīrtha continued, “he wrote the Rāmāyaṇa after having chanting rāma, māra, he became purified.” 

By this time it was five o’clock. The darśana had lasted one and a half hours, and everyone noticed that Śrīla Prabhupāda was looking a little strained. Everyone took their leave and George, Gurudāsa, Mukunda, Jayatīrtha and the other devotees called, “All glories to Śrīla Prabhupāda!” as they left the room. 

Prabhupāda smiled at George and blessed him. “Jaya. Long live!” 

The devotees took George downstairs and showed him the film, Spiritual Frontier, which he liked. He left after that, full of satisfaction at the state of the temple and devotees, and enlivened by his meeting with His Divine Grace. He promised Gurudāsa and Mukunda he would come again. 

* * * 

Bhagavān prabhu and Pṛthu-putra Swami arrived from France. Śrīla Prabhupāda saw them in the early evening. They brought samples of the new French Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam First Canto, first part. Although Prabhupāda has been strictly supervising the production of the English versions of his books, he has allowed some leeway in the presentation of the foreign language editions. Bhagavān and his men have taken full opportunity to exercise this prerogative, and the book he placed before His Divine Grace drew exclamations of delight from Harikeśa and even Prabhupāda. It was gorgeously produced, with elaborate gold stamping, colorful end-pages, and built-in silk bookmarkers—an ISKCON first. The first run was 25,000 copies.  

Bhagavān reported high annual distribution figures for the French Bhagavad-gītā, and he said the printing of the first half of the Kṛṣṇa book and Upadeśāmṛta was imminent. He told Śrīla Prabhupāda they are now printing at very good prices in Italy.  

Prabhupāda was extremely pleased with the book’s format as well as the distribution figures. He especially enjoyed hearing Pṛthu-putra translate the Preface from the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam. A professor Śrīla Prabhupāda met the year before last, Jean Vardin, had written it. In halting English Pṛthu-putra read it aloud. “ ‘Amongst all the Purāṇas, the most famous is the Bhāgavata Purāṇa, called Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam because this literary form is achieved the most beautiful, and also because it’s the poem which expresses best the doctrine of the faith that Śrī Kṛṣṇa is the Supreme Person, Puruṣottama, the principle of everything, the absolute unique without second, advaitam-brahman. Like in the Śrīmad Bhagavad-gītā the Lord reveals His majesty in plain. Much more than an avatāra of Viṣṇu, He appears in our eyes like the unique God. Towards Him all devotion is due. . . . We have to thank very much the International Society for Krishna Consciousness, to give us that very big text, one of the master book of the humanity. This book is very benefic, and with the translation of the Sanskrit there is the majestical commentary, which is given verse after verse by the master, A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupāda, founder of the association.  

“ ‘As he did it with the Bhagavad-gītā which was published in French in 1975 with the preface of Professor Harvi Delacombe, Swami Prabhupāda explains word by word each mantra—stanza or sacred text—to give a signification. Then the reader can judge every piece, what is the meaning of the teaching of the master, by confrontation with the text itself . . . ’ ” 

Prabhupāda liked that. “Yes,” he interjected agreeably. 

Pṛthu-putra read on. Describing Prabhupāda’s position as a member of the succession from Lord Caitanya the professor wrote, “ ‘It is a considerable advantage for the French public to have these volumes where there is a vitality manifested from one of these past panthā, which are the most followed by the followers of the Hinduism. We hope that there is a large distribution of this tradition and commentary of the Bhāgavata Purāṇa. Anyone who is interested in the life of India can find the authentic teaching, spiritual teaching authorized, and can also have access to one of the most beautiful religious poem from the Hindu tradition.’ ” 

Pṛthu-putra Mahārāja looked up with a bright smile. “It’s wonderful!” 

Śrīla Prabhupāda’s eyes gleamed with pleasure. “Yes. So he likes our . . . ” 

“Oh yes,” Bhagavān said. “We are very respected in the country.” 

“That’s nice,” Prabhupāda said. “You must keep our position.” 

The devotees also included some reviews inside the book. Pṛthu-putra translated one from a doctor of letters in Neuchatel, Switzerland. “ ‘The truth is one and universal, and the tradition of this work is always valuable. The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam is an essential development of the Bhagavad-gītā. It’s talking about the questions metaphysical, philosophical, religious, psychologic, political and social. The wonderful tradition of Swami Prabhupāda is inspired from the same principles that the one who guided him in his translation of the Bhagavad-gītā. Every Sanskrit verse is written in Latin characters and then a literary version. The commentary, which is referring always from the Veda, Upaniṣad and other texts, is allowing the reader to make spiritual progress. The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam is a precious work and will be revealed for a lot of people from the West. And there is a very urgent need to spread this message throughout the world.’ ” 

Śrīla Prabhupāda was delighted with both the high praise and the production standard of the books and Bhagavān told him they plan to produce a whole library with all the books done in a similar style. 

Throughout the meeting Prabhupāda had frequent heavy coughing bouts, his voice was thick and his nose was congested. This prompted Bhagavān prabhu to inquire how he was feeling.  

He told Bhagavān that he had heart palpitations and it was difficult for him to go up any stairs. He therefore felt that further travel would not be possible. Still he asked about the French farm. “So in the village, how many devotees are there?” 

“Almost two hundred.” 

“Oh, very good.” 

“They are waiting for you,” Bhagavān said with a gentle laugh.  

“Yes,” Prabhupāda said appreciatively. “They must be waiting. So farming is going?” 

“Oh, yes, we’ve just harvested barley and oats, big harvest. And the farm is supplying beans, cauliflower right now. And tomatoes, they have planted three thousand tomato plants, and all the farmers, they are asking how we have done.” 

“And milk?” 

“We have not bought many cows yet. We will.” 

“No? No milk at all? No cows?” Prabhupāda asked him again. 

“Oh, yes, we have five cows, six cows.” 

Prabhupāda was glad to hear they were getting at least some milk. He told him about his visit to the Pennsylvania farm and to New Vrindaban, once again repeating that the world’s economic problems could be solved by having sufficient milk and grains. “Kṛṣṇa is providing so much facilities for becoming Kṛṣṇa conscious, and why should we deviate and spoil this life, take the risk of again going into the cycle of birth and death? Common sense affair. We have got the good, greatest opportunity to solve this problem of repetition of birth. And only for little sense gratification we are going to sacrifice so great opportunity of life? This much education is wanted. Na sādhu manye yata ātmano ’yam. Find out the verse, Fifth Canto, Fifth Chapter. Very bad civilization. Mad civilization, pramatta. Simply for a little sense gratification they are prepared to take so much risk. Next life you may become cat, dog or a small grass or a tree by laws of nature.” 

Listening as Jayatīrtha read out the verse and purport, Prabhupāda added that although it is such a serious subject matter, when you speak it in public they think, “What nonsense he is speaking.” He went on to explain, “Dull brain. By eating meat and intoxication they have lost their all human brain tissues. Such a condition. Still, some professors receiving and doing some applause. That is, otherwise who is understanding? The brain is so dull in the modern world . . . Pramatta, that we can see, mad. And everyone, especially in the Western country, so many madmen. The hippies, their whole sect—mad. Then so-called businessmen, so-called scientist, so-called philosopher—everyone is mad. And kurute vikarma, all sinful activities, especially the slaughterhouse, horrible. Everyone is taking share of these sinful activities. They’re fighting amongst themselves, this party, that party, Communist party, Fascist party, then barking in the United Nation and so on, so on. All mad. At least we must know it.” He looked pointedly at his GBCs and smiled. “Or we are talking nonsense; they are all right. What is your conviction?” 

He had more of the purport read out, and then he pointed out the helplessness and foolishness of the materialists who are so stringently controlled by material nature yet believe they can make adjustments. Describing an Indian cartoon, he said, “There was some drought. So there was some representation: ‘And there is no water. We are suffering. This is the difficulty.’  

“ ‘Yes, we are taking step, but next week you’ll have television!’  

“Because there was no television, so this is the advancement. Next week they have television. As if television will solve the problem. All mūḍhas, rascals, are very horrible condition. Chant Hare Kṛṣṇa. There is no other way.” 

After repeating his criticisms of the Mars and moon excursions, he turned his attention back to the books laying on his desk. “My Guru Mahārāja is very pleased. As soon as a book comes out, he is pleased. He was lamenting that ‘These men, they did not publish any number of books. They are simply after this stone and bricks.’ He condemned. He was very, very sorry. So I thought that I must take a risk. And he’s pleased.” 

“So now you have books and temples,” Bhagavān said. 

Prabhupāda smiled. “Yes, temple is automatically. I never stressed on temple. I was engaged in publishing the Back to Godhead. Whatever I could do, I did it because I took it very seriously that he is very sorry that these things were not done. He said that, ‘There will be fire in this Gaudiya Math.’ Āgun jvalbe, he said. Āmari taci loka kichui boi kakrayebo: ‘If I can, I shall sell these marbles of this temple and convert them into books.’ That was his ambition. He started a very nice press and this Tīrtha Mahārāja sold it.” 

“Sold it?” Jayatīrtha asked in surprise. 

“Yes,” Prabhupāda said. “He’s not representing guru . . . ‘Better let’s have money for fight in the court.’ ” 

“Sometimes I’m sorry that my name also has this word in it,” Jayatīrtha said a little ruefully. 

Prabhupāda paused a moment, and then offered him a word of comfort and encouragement. “You are Jaya-tīrtha; you are victorious. Now whatever is being done, it is by his [Bhaktisiddhānta’s] blessing. Let us work sincerely. Things will be all . . . Otherwise it is humanly impossible. It is by his grace.” 

“George was also commenting on that, how one man could have written so many books,” Jayatīrtha said. “He could not even read them all, what to speak of writing them.” 

Prabhupāda quoted a Sanskrit verse: mūkaṁ karoti vācālaṁ panguṁ laṅghāyate girim/ yat-kṛpā tam ahaṁ vande śrī-guruṁ dīna-tāriṇam. “A dumb [person] is a great orator. The lame man, is jumping over the mountain. Yat-kṛpā, by the mercy of guru it is possible. So let us cooperate and do this business. Higher authority will be pleased, and that is our success. Yasya prasādād bhagavat-prasādaḥ. If the higher authorities are pleased, then Kṛṣṇa is pleased. That is our success.” 

Śrīla Prabhupāda returned to the topic of his health. “So, Bhagavān may carry one letter that ‘I am very sorry. On account of my health failure, I could not go to see you,’—that professor and all devotees. And, I am very, very sorry for this, but, I humbly invite you, come to India, and we shall be very glad to sit together,’ like that.” 

For Bhagavān and the European devotees it was an obvious disappointment. Still hoping to attract His Divine Grace to France, Bhagavān gently presented that Prabhupāda’s rooms were completed, the weather was warm and the sun shone into his quarters throughout the day. He added that if the difficulty was going up the stairs, there were three hundred devotees waiting to carry him in a palanquin. The castle on the farm was quiet and peaceful, and there was a private kitchen just for Śrīla Prabhupāda right next to his rooms. In addition, Śrī Śrī Kṛṣṇa-Balarāma were to be installed. Bhagavān described how he had personally worked through the previous night to make ready a new vyāsāsana carved from the best Italian marble. He also explained that a comfortable Mercedes car was available to drive him to the farm from Paris.  

Because he was reluctant not to go, Śrīla Prabhupāda let him speak. He needed reassurance that his health would not be adversely affected, and Bhagavān’s gentle persuasion seemed to be working.   

“We shall go immediately?” Prabhupāda asked. 

Jayatīrtha cautiously tempered Bhagavān’s query. “I think that, Śrīla Prabhupāda, you should not feel obliged in any way to go. Only whatever you think is best for your health condition.” 

“No, obliged. I am always obliged to you. That’s a fact. Yes,” Prabhupāda said humbly. 

“We are only obliged to you. That’s a fact. That is the actual fact. It must be decided, though, what you think is best for your health situation.” Jayatīrtha said. 

“Whatever you decide,” Prabhupāda told him. 

Bhagavān told him that the only thing he was concerned about was whether Prabhupāda might suffer some difficulty on the car drive. “But if that won’t be too difficult,” he said. “I really think that this is ideal. Your quarters are really first-class, extremely wonderful. And the only other thing is at night it’s cool, but that’s not so bad either.” 

“No, at night cool will be good.” Prabhupāda agreed.  

Perhaps more compelling than any of the other reasons Bhagavān presented for remaining in Europe were the difficulties he envisioned for Prabhupāda in India, where he would be obliged to see a constant stream of visitors. Bhagavān remembered how, two years ago Prabhupāda had been seriously ill in Vṛndāvana. Even still, at least fifteen people were coming to see him each day.  

Jayatīrtha prabhu agreed that it would be difficult for Prabhupāda to avoid seeing people in India. “I like Indian people, but these Indian people are not very conscious of your position. They think that you’re just another guru. Many of them do. Of course, some of them appreciate you.” 

Prabhupāda explained the Indian mentality. “That ‘If we see one saintly person and offer obeisances, we get some blessing for our material . . . ’ Āśīrvāda.” 

As a sample of what to expect, Jayatīrtha told him about an incident that happened just last night. “One man came with his family. They wanted to have your darśana. I said, ‘Prabhupāda is in bed. He’s resting.’  

“He was insisting, he said, ‘I do not want to hear him speak, I simply want to see him.’  

“I said, ‘He’s in bed; you can’t go into his bedroom. How is it possible?’  

“ ‘No, that is all right. I will just go in, and I will see him.’  

“I said, ‘What is this? Get out.’ ” 

When Prabhupāda asked Bhagavān about the water on the farm, he was told that it was from their own underground source, pure, light and tasty. On hearing this, Prabhupāda decided, “All right, let us go.” Prabhupāda said that if he got good water it might help his digestion. 

Jayatīrtha laughed. “I never thought that you would go to India. I knew that Bhagavān would come, and you would go to Paris.” 

“No. If I improve my health, I shall stay there for some time,” Prabhupāda told him, and added smilingly. “Everywhere is my home. Not that India . . . If I am attached to India, then how I am sannyāsī?” 

Left with only Harikeśa and me after everyone else exited, Prabhupāda admired the work of the French BBT staff. He complimented Yogeśvara for being so intelligent.  

When Harikeśa went out to attend to some work, I remained a few minutes more, alone with His Divine Grace. During the conversation I had flipped through the pages of the new book and had noticed a picture of Śrīla Prabhupāda’s kitchen in the Rādhā-Dāmodara temple in Vṛndāvana. I now told him about it.  

“Oh! Where it is?” he enthusiastically asked. 

I found the page for him. Opportunities like this don’t arise frequently, so as he inspected the brownish photo I asked a few questions about Prabhupāda’s life before ISKCON. “Through that window you could see Rūpa Gosvāmī’s samādhi. And for those two rooms they were charging five rupees a month?” 

“Yes,” Prabhupāda said. “These rooms were broken. So they told me that ‘You can repair these, and whatever you like, you can give.’ So I thought, ‘Don’t need much space.’ Before me there was a tenant in that other room, he was paying three rupees. So I thought, ‘Two rooms, but I have spent money. So I’ll give him five.’ Now I am giving them ten rupees.” 

“To retain it.” 

“Yes.” 

“Sometimes the devotees go down there and clean out the rooms,” I told him, “and they have kīrtana there sometimes. I think this is the first book that someone included this photo.” 

“Yes. It was very calm and quiet. And people used to offer obeisances from outside because they knew. Practically everyone knew me. So they used to offer . . . ” 

“You were very well known in Vṛndāvana before you came?” 

“Not very well known, but people knew me.” 

“Because you were writing?” 

“Yes.” 

“Or because of your ambition to come to the West?” 

“No, at that time there was no such thing,” Prabhupāda replied. “I was living there, retired man.” 

“So when you went to Vṛndāvana, you’d given up the idea of coming to the West?” 

“No, coming to the West, the idea was there, but I was planning how to go, how to go there, how to preach there, how to take some books, how to bring them—everything alone . . . ” 

“So as soon as you had some books then you were . . . ” 

“Yes. Then I decided. Everything was being dictated by superior.” 

With Śrīla Prabhupāda in such a congenial mood, I took the courage to broach something Harikeśa once mentioned to me. “I was told that one day you were told by Rūpa Gosvāmī that you must go.” 

Prabhupāda’s mood changed slightly. “But that was open secret,” he said dismissively. “Everyone knew.” Then he changed the subject. 

July 27th, 1976

Once more, Prabhupāda spent a quiet day, avoiding too much physical activity. He remained in his room during the Deity greeting, guru-pūjā and class. But he allowed Jayatīrtha and Bhagavān prabhus to come in his room for a relaxed discussion while the devotees carried on the program without him.  

George Harrison’s visit prompted some talk about artists. Prabhupāda explained that in India the artistic class are considered śūdras, not a very high-class profession. He said a hundred years ago Girish Chandra Ghosh tried to introduce theatrical performances with both men and women actors, in imitation of the Europeans. “So he wanted to invite woman artist. Not a single woman joined. Who will go to public stage to dance, respectable girl? They’ll never. That is hundred years.”  

He recalled that even forty years ago he knew a respectable family who rejected the notion of teaching their daughter to dance and sing. “The girl was to be married, and it is the custom in India, the bridegroom’s party comes to see the girl, whether she is right. Similarly, the girl’s party goes to see the boy. So they came to see my friend’s daughter, and the daughter is very beautiful, rich man’s daughter. So one of the bridegroom’s party questioned, ‘You know how to dance?’ That was the question to the girl: ‘You have learned something about dancing and singing?’  

“So she was my friend Mukunda Mati’s daughter. His elder brother was there. He became very angry, that ‘This rascal is asking our daughter whether she knows dancing and singing.’ He took it as insult, that ‘Respectable family, daughter should learn how to dance, how to sing?’ So immediately he protested, ‘No, no, no. She does not know how to dance, how to sing. She’s not meant for that purpose. We like, of course, a young girl dancing and singing, but we cannot teach our family members. We spend for that outside. You cannot expect our Mullik’s family daughter dancing and singing.’ Actually dancing, singing? What is this nonsense? For a respectable family? It is meant for the low-class professional. Pay them, they will dance. Or go to some prostitute, she will dance.  

“Among the theatrical, Girish Chandra Ghosh could not get a single response from any respectable family. Then he had to seek some young girl from the prostitute class. They became later on famous artists, Kusumkarī Dāsī. Nowadays it has become a fashion that aristocratic family should join this cinema and spoil their character.”  

Bhagavān said that the artistic class is very influential these days. 

Using George as an example, Prabhupāda acknowledged the fact, explaining, “Somehow or other get money, you become a big man. There is no question of culture or anything. That is stated in the Bhāgavata. Money will be the criterion—no family, culture, education. These things will not be taken into account. If you have got money, then you are big man. Nevermind what you are. Therefore people are after money. Who is going to be brāhmaṇa? If you become a perfect brāhmaṇa, who will care for you? Nobody is interested to become a brāhmaṇa. ‘Why we shall become brāhmaṇa? For starvation?’ Nowadays the colleges they’re not interested in art, philosophy, English literature. They go for technical, how they will get more money.” 

Remembering Professor O’Connell in Toronto, he said, “Some of the doctor, professor, they came to request us to give our student; they are not getting student. And after few years they’ll be all dismissed, who will pay them? Hayagrīva told me. He’s not getting any job. There is another, Dr. Henderson, he’s also not getting any job. He’s selling insurance. And Bon Mahārāja, his institute is suffering from the very beginning till now, simply begging, begging and paying, paying the professor. No student. First of all he started Vaiṣṇava philosophy, so doctorate, Ph.D. So especially in India, who is going to take Ph.D. in Vaiṣṇava philosophy and starve? So this is failure. It is already failure, but he is persistent.” 

Bhagavān said people are very surprised that we are not starving. 

“Why we shall starve?” Prabhupāda asked. “We are, rather, inviting, ‘Come here, live comfortably. You chant Hare Kṛṣṇa.’ When I see so many young boys are taking prasādam, I become so happy that they are having prasādam and good chance for chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa, that’s all.” 

Speaking of prasādam, Prabhupāda turned to me and said that some watermelon juice he had taken yesterday evening had “created havoc” during the night. He asked for vegetable soup for his breakfast. 

He went on, observing that as long as people are not enlightened about the science of spirit, they will remain in a defeated position. “So we have to now increase our scope. Everything we have got.”  

It didn’t matter which political system people followed, either communist or capitalist, they were all defeated. “Our program is solid, but if we have to argue with animals, that is a different thing. Otherwise any human being, they will accept. But the modern civilization means to keep the people in general in animal platform, that’s all, and cheat them. Now there is drought; there is no rain. What the capitalists or communists can do in this connection? If they are able to present any program how to counteract? Then where is your progress?” 

I pointed out that the communists were buying wheat from the West because there was no rainfall.  

Jayatīrtha added that another of their problems was the ordinary men and the farmers’ disinclination to work. “They have to give all the fruit away. So because they are karmīs, they want the fruit. The state is taking the fruit; therefore they don’t want to work. They have no incentive.” 

“ ‘I’ll work and you’ll enjoy.’ Why shall they work?” Prabhupāda said. “That is natural tendency. This can be possible only for Kṛṣṇa. ‘I’ll work; Kṛṣṇa will enjoy.’ That’s all. That is only possible in Kṛṣṇa consciousness.” 

He gave Arjuna as the prime example of someone willingly sacrificing everything for the satisfaction of Kṛṣṇa. “We cannot find this philosophy in the material world that ‘I shall work, and so many will be satisfied.’ That is not possible. ‘If I work, I must be satisfied.’ So these communists, everyone will show that ‘I have no capacity.’ So the production will reduce; and they’ll have to beg.” 

Jayatīrtha said they were now introducing capitalistic-style incentives in many of the communist countries, in order to induce the people to work. 

Prabhupāda said that would not work, that the introduction of Kṛṣṇa consciousness would. “They’ll have to learn how to love Kṛṣṇa, and for Kṛṣṇa they are prepared to do anything. That is philosophy.” He asked Harikeśa Mahārāja to look up a verse in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam which Harikeśa read out loud. “The supreme occupation, dharma, for all humanity is that by which men can attain to loving devotional service unto the transcendent Lord. Such devotional service must be unmotivated and uninterrupted in order to completely satisfy the self.” 

Prabhupāda said, “So the communist teaching that ‘You love Lenin,’ and the capitalist teaching that, ‘You love Washington. So nobody’s satisfied. Unless the love comes to Kṛṣṇa, there is no question of satisfied. There must be defect, because the love is reposed in some defective or imperfect personality. It may be Lenin or it may be Washington—it doesn’t matter, he’s imperfect.  

“Love is there. Otherwise why so many people are working? But because it is misplaced, they are not satisfied. Therefore it is stated, adhokṣaje, this word, is used. They may say that ‘Where is God?’ And therefore the word is adhokṣaje: beyond your sense perception. Everything is within sense perception. So therefore this very word is used, that ‘You cannot see, you cannot perceive, but still, you have to love Him.’ They say, therefore, that this Kṛṣṇa consciousness, it is some ideal, imagination.” 

He explained that even if people criticize us that Kṛṣṇa cannot be seen, we can reverse that argument. “ ‘You do not see Lenin. Why you are worshiping? Is Lenin present before you? So why you are worshiping?’ You’ll see. You have got, in Moscow got, every street corner a big picture. If somebody argues, ‘Where is Lenin? Why you are worshiping? You cannot see Lenin . . . ’ Because they say, ‘Where is your Kṛṣṇa? You are worshiping a statue,’ so we can say the same thing, ‘Where is your Lenin? The statue, it is?’ In the airport station, street crossing and everywhere there is picture. And they go to worship Lenin’s tomb every day. Many other fools also go there, tourists, that Red Square. They tried in India for Jawaharlal Nehru’s tomb, for Gandhi’s tomb. So in the beginning there was little crowd, now nobody goes. But in Vṛndāvana, Govindajī’s temple, Krishna-Balarām temple, without invitation—crowd. This is culture.”  

Bhagavān added, “Marx, he has written only little book, and you have written so many books.” 

“What does he know,” Prabhupāda scoffed, “that he’ll write? He can bluff people, that’s all. Here is Vyāsadeva, vidvān.” Again he quoted the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam: “Anarthopaśamaṁ sākṣād bhakti-yogam adhokṣaje/ lokasyājānato vidvāṁś cakre sātvata-saṁhitām.” 

Harikeśa read the translation: “The material miseries of the living entity, which are superfluous to him, can be directly mitigated by the linking process of devotional service. But the mass of people do not know this, and therefore the learned Vyāsadeva compiled this Vedic literature, which is in relation to the Supreme Truth.” 

“So here is vidvān,” Prabhupāda said, “and there is a rascal. He does not know how people will be helped.” 

He added that the karmīs merely theorize; however people should see that we are doing something very practical. “So expand this farming project, self-help and peaceful life for spiritual culture.” He lauded the Pennsylvania farm as the best organized of all our farming projects. In contrast to his vision of a peaceful agrarian life he warned that unemployment in the industrial society would become a great catastrophe and cause civil unrest. “They will create havoc. This is artificial. They are increasing the production of tire tube and lid. So who will purchase? Nobody lives in the tire tube. Therefore unemployment. So therefore reduce production. You cannot go on increasing. It is very artificial civilization.”  

Our farms he said, would be a natural alternative. “Here so far milk and food grains are concerned, whatever sumptuously you want to eat, eat. Balance you can keep stock. The milk can be converted into ghee, then keep stock, and the grains can be stocked. Whenever you like, you just grind the grains and have to eat, halavā. If you have got excess, you can distribute free prasādam. ‘Come on.’ You make friends.” 

* * * 

A Māyāvādī, Swami Satyāmṛtānanda, visited Prabhupāda at about 11:00 a.m. Prabhupāda received him in the airy precincts of his darśana room. They conversed in Hindi together, exchanging some preliminary niceties as the Swami got seated. He was friendly and complimentary about Śrīla Prabhupāda’s work and ISKCON. He said that he had visited the Manor once before and wherever he traveled he visited the ISKCON centers and tried to help. Some months back he had received our devotees at his āśrama in Haridwar, and he said he knew Brahmānanda, having met him in Mombasa. He asked how Śrīla Prabhupāda was. 

Śrīla Prabhupāda explained that his health was not good and he was suffering from “cough and fever.” 

Satyāmṛtānanda, while continuing to compliment Śrīla Prabhupāda’s work, said that he was planning to open a small center here in London. He suggested that his society and Śrīla Prabhupāda’s could work together. 

Prabhupāda, while remaining cordial, showed no enthusiasm whatever for his proposal. “Our preaching is of Kṛṣṇa,” he told him frankly. “Kṛṣṇas tu bhagavān svayam. But they are not all accepting. They are saying that we are sectarian. They are thinking that Kṛṣṇa and all the gods are the same. They believe everybody is God. But we don’t believe. Kṛṣṇas tu bhagavān svayam. We don’t agree with what you all are saying.” 

The Swami admitted, “Yes, there are some little differences.” But his mood showed that he didn’t think they were of any importance.  

Prabhupāda disagreed. “So if these are the differences then how can we work together?” 

“We can work together wherever we agree with each other,” Satyāmṛtānanda smiled. 

Prabhupāda maintained his dour countenance. “No, it is not possible. We don’t believe in this hodgepodge—he is God, they are God, we are God, all gods the same.” 

Satyāmṛtānanda tried to adjust by verifying that in the scriptures “deva upasana” was recommended, but Śrīla Prabhupāda explained that this was for the less intelligent persons. “It is for murkha,” he said, quoting from Bhagavad-gītā. “A person who is a murkha, he worships the demigods.” 

“But there is the Devi Bhāgavata,” Satyāmṛtānanda pointed out, trying to remain courteous. 

“Yes,” Prabhupāda conceded, “it is there. It is not that no worship is allowed. But the person who is doing the worship, he is murkha.” 

Satyāmṛtānanda quoted a few Sanskrit ślokas to better establish his case and Prabhupāda shook his head in polite disagreement. “That is another discussion. If I say something you will get angry. So I don’t want to say more.” 

Satyāmṛtānanda had not come to argue but to get help, so he didn’t pursue his line of argument. He tried to keep it friendly by adopting the usual Māyāvādī stance that whatever one was doing, that was fine. Thus he began to reassure Śrīla Prabhupāda, “No, that’s all right, you are doing the very best thing.” 

“I simply accept whatever is in scripture,” Prabhupāda said. “Kṛṣṇas tu bhagavān svayam. We cannot compromise.” 

As Satyāmṛtānanda continued to waggle his head and smile Prabhupāda gave him assurance that we do not disregard the demigods, we offer them all respects. “Tṛṇād api sunīcena taror api sahiṣṇunā. . . . Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu says even the ant on the ground should be given respect so what to speak of big, big demigods. We respects all others. But Kṛṣṇa is the all in all.” Quoting the Brahma-saṁhitā verse which describes Durgādevī as the shadow of the internal energy of Kṛṣṇa, Prabhupāda said, “Icchānurūpam means He is independent. Mayādhyakṣeṇa prakṛtiḥ [Bg.9.10] māyā is working under His superintendence. So they all say that Durgā is the same as Kṛṣṇa and others, but we don’t believe in that. They are not all the same.” 

Satyāmṛtānanda continued to shrug and smile, as if to say that he didn’t hold it against Śrīla Prabhupāda for his dedication to a particular line of thought. “Its OK. Everyone has their own beliefs, so that’s OK.” 

Prabhupāda continued to quote evidence of Kṛṣṇa’s supremacy from Bhagavad-gītā indirectly telling his visitor that even the basic literature makes it obvious. “We don’t know all big, big scriptures. Whatever Bhagavān says in Bhagavad-gītā is enough for us, and by that the work is going on.” 

“It is a good work,” the Swami agreed. 

And although Satyāmṛtānanda wasn’t really interested in hearing, Prabhupāda continued to make his point. “Bhagavān Himself says mattaḥ parataraṁ nānyat, so why they have thought about something else? We will give respect to everyone, but the pūrṇa bhagavān is Kṛṣṇa. Sarva pūrṇa puruṣottama.Ete cāṁśa-kalāḥ puṁsaḥ kṛṣṇas tu bhagavān svayam. All others are Bhagavān’s avatāra; some are aṁśa and some are kalā, but Kṛṣṇa is the original.” 

Satyāmṛtānanda asked if we consider Rāma to be just Balarāma. 

Prabhupāda told him that no, we say that Rāma is also Rāma as well as Balarāma since Rāma is also Bhagavān. “Our temple in Bombay will have Sīta-Rāma also; rāmādi-mūrtiṣu kalā-niyamena tiṣṭhan nānāvatāram akarod bhuvaneṣu kintu/ kṛṣṇa svayaṁ samabhavat paramaḥ pumān yo govindam ādi-puruṣaṁ tam aham bhajāmi—kṛṣṇas tu bhagavān svayam. So pūrṇa bhagavān means Kṛṣṇa. Arjuna also says paraṁ brahma paraṁ dhāma. So this is the instruction and this is what we are spreading. It is not difficult. The big, big ācāryas can offer obeisances and praṇāma and the common person also can do the same.” 

Point made, Śrīla Prabhupāda switched to a lighter subject, asking the Swami how long he was going to stay in London and informing him of his own travels and the recent New York Ratha-yātrā. Satyāmṛtānanda urged Prabhupāda to try to bring the Muslims in and Prabhupāda gladly informed him that he already had a temple in Iran run by his Iranian disciple Atreya Ṛṣi. “His name previously was Attar,” he laughed. “So we have called him Atreya Ṛṣi.” 

“Do they wear the dhotī, tilaka and all these things?” the Swami asked. 

“Oh, yes,” Śrīla Prabhupāda told him. “I don’t make them my disciple unless they follow our regulations. Whoever wants to be my disciple, they have to follow these things—no illicit sex, no gambling, no meat-eating, no drinking, not even tea or coffee. That is little difficult for people to come because they have to follow these principles.” 

“Well you have done a very good job. You already have more than ten thousand followers so that is not a small amount.” The Swami invited Śrīla Prabhupāda to come with his disciples to visit his place in Haridwar when he comes to India. 

“Yes, we will come,” Prabhupāda said. “Now I am over eighty years, so I am getting weaker but still I am traveling to all our centers, two, three days, so time is passing.” Indicating we few disciples by his side he went on, “He is from America, he is from Europe—they all are helping to print and sell books. We are selling daily $60,000 worth of books, every day, minimum, in Spanish, German, Japanese—in all languages we are spreading these books.” 

So after a gracious half hour meeting, Swami Satyāmṛtānanda took his leave promising to see Prabhupāda in Bombay to take him to Haridwar. “Hare Kṛṣṇa, Hare Kṛṣṇa,” he said as he got up to leave.  

“Jaya,” Prabhupāda replied. “Hare Kṛṣṇa.” 

* * * 

In mid-afternoon Mukunda prabhu introduced Śrīla Prabhupāda to Mike Robinson, a young interviewer from the London Broadcasting Company. It is a local radio station that hosts a two and a half hour religious program every Sunday. Prompted by the daily sight of our devotees dancing and chanting down Oxford Street, Mike felt his listeners would be interested to hear about us.  

By deflecting a question about the history of the movement to Mukunda, Prabhupāda made it clear he wanted to speak on the philosophy at the outset. Mike was quick to adjust, and decided he would interview Mukunda separately afterwards. He then asked Śrīla Prabhupāda, “Can you tell me what you believe, what is the philosophy of the Hare Kṛṣṇa movement?” 

Prabhupāda corrected him that there was no question of belief; Kṛṣṇa consciousness was a science. As proof, he explained the process of transmigration of the soul. He also had Harikeśa read out Bhagavad-gītā verse 2.20.  

Mike asked, “So can you explain to me just a bit more, if the soul is undying, does everybody’s soul go to be with God when they die?”  

“Not necessarily,” Prabhupāda replied. “If he qualifies himself in this life to go back home, back to Godhead, then he can go. If he does not qualify himself, he gets another material body—and there are 8,400,000 different forms of body. And according to his desire and karma [activities], the laws of nature give him a body.” He stressed that because everyone is under the laws of material nature, no one is free. “So this next birth will be decided according to my activities this life, sinful or pious, like that.” 

Mike was following carefully, and was quick-witted enough to ask, “You said nobody is free. But you are saying that if we live a good life we in some way determine our future as well?” 

Prabhupāda confirmed that and Mike continued, “So we are free to choose in so far as what we believe important. I mean religion is important, because if we believe in God and live a good life . . . ” 

Prabhupāda interrupted him, repeating what he said at the outset. “Don’t bring this question, belief. It is law. Just like there is government—you believe or not believe, who cares for you? That is government.” 

“I see,” said Mike. “Does it matter what religion you believe?” 

“It is not a question of which religion,” Prabhupāda said. “It is a question of science what is your position.” He pointed out that whether a Christian or a Hindu, every child becomes a boy. It is nature’s law. 

“So you are saying there is only one God.” 

“Yes,” Prabhupāda answered. 

“Can you explain to me then what difference it makes being a member of the Hare Kṛṣṇa movement?” 

“Hare Kṛṣṇa movement,” Prabhupāda told him, “means one who is serious to understand this science, he’s member of the Hare Kṛṣṇa movement. This is the beginning of education, that you are a spirit soul. Our mission is to educate.” 

 Prabhupāda then described how the soul is carried by the subtle mind from one body to another. Mike quickly picked up on the implications. “Are you saying that we were perhaps something else before we were born as well? And we keep coming back in something else next time?” 

“Oh, yes.” 

“And how long does this go on?” Mike asked. 

“This is going on because you are eternal,” Prabhupāda explained. “According to your work, you are simply changing body. Therefore you should be educated how to stop this business, how to remain in our original, spiritual body. And that is Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement.” 

“Oh, I see,” Mike said. “So if I gain Kṛṣṇa consciousness, I wouldn’t have to have the threat of coming back as a dog or something like that.” 

“No, no.” Prabhupāda smiled in agreement and had Harikeśa read out a second verse, Bhagavad-gītā 4.9. 

Prabhupāda’s frequent use of śāstra intrigued Mike. “Now we’ve had two readings from your scriptures. Where do these scriptures come from? Can you explain that briefly?” 

Prabhupāda obliged, using a wonderful analogy. “This is coming from Vedic literature, which is eternal. When there is creation, this material creation, anything, material creation . . .  Just like this microphone is a material creation. So how to deal with it, there is some literature. Is it not?” 

“How to deal with the microphone?” Mike asked. 

“Yes. There is some literature.” 

“Yes, that’s right, there is.” 

“Yes,” Prabhupāda said. “So that literature comes along with the creation of the microphone. So similarly, the Vedic literatures comes immediately with the creation.” 

“I see. So these scriptures have been in existence since we have, is what you’re saying,” Mike nodded. “What about other scriptures? Other religions have got their scriptures, do you believe, do you accept them?” 

Prabhupāda stayed with the same example. “The literature issued along with the manufacturer of this microphone is bona fide. So if anyone follows that bona fide literature, he can deal with it. Otherwise, a bogus.” 

Having been previously primed by the devotees, Mike moved to a different subject. “I see. Well, if we could take something which I believe you feel very strongly about, and that’s some of the other Eastern cults and gurus.” 

Prabhupāda wasn’t that keen to discuss others, but he still responded. “So far I know, they do not know anything. They simply come and bluff and cheat, that’s all.” 

“I see,” said Mike. “What are the big differences that you seem to be . . . ?” 

“The difference is,” Prabhupāda said, “they are not following the original literature; they are manufacturing their own literature. That is the difference. Not authorized.” 

“I’m noticing that you are stressing very much science and rational thinking,” Mike said, “and they very often stress feeling, which doesn’t seem to . . . ” 

“Yes. When there is something wrong, you just consult the original literature, not any literature issued by a bogus man,” Prabhupāda said. 

“Can you explain to me, then, the place of feeling in your religion. The place of emotions?” 

“Our feeling is that we are dealing with the genuine thing, that’s all,” Prabhupāda said with easy confidence. 

Mike switched topics, focusing more on Prabhupāda himself. “Why was it that you left until you were so late in life before you founded this Movement?” 

Prabhupāda didn’t mind the personal nature of this enquiry, and answered him simply. “I must be prepared, I must be bona fide to preach. If one is going to pass M.A. examination he must be qualified. Not that all of a sudden one becomes M.A.” 

“Can you tell me how you feel led? You know, how you are guided in what you do?” 

Again Prabhupāda answered in a straightforward manner. “Well, there are these books, just like I told you, the literature.” 

“So it’s from your literature that you’ve learned that you’ve got to do this.” 

“Yes, we have got so many literatures. We are explaining in English. Guide is . . . it is not manufactured. The guide is from the beginning. Simply one has to take that guidance, then everything’s all right. And if we manufacture guidance, then it is spoiled. Just like in the literature of this microphone, you say that this should be like this, this should be like this, number two should be by the side of number four. You cannot make any change, then it is spoiled.” 

Mike had prepared for his interview by studying some of Prabhupāda’s books. “One of the things you say is that ‘Religion without a rational basis is just sentiment.’ Can you explain that to us, and the converse of it?” 

Prabhupāda appreciated his question. “Just like most religions, they say, ‘We believe.’ So what is this believe? You may believe something which is not naturally correct. Just like some of the Christian people, they say, ‘We believe there is no soul of the animal.’ That is not correct. You have believed because you want to eat the animal. You have discovered philosophy, but that’s not the fact.” 

“How do you know the animal has a soul?” Mike asked. 

“You can know also,” Prabhupāda said. “What is the difference? How do you distinguish that the animal has no soul and the man has soul?”  

“I believe this Christian religion do it because their scriptures say . . . ” 

Prabhupāda caught him out. “Again you believe, don’t believe, don’t believe. When you say that the animal has no soul, but you believe or you know that man has soul. So what is the distinction between the man and the animal you find so that you say the animal has no soul? What is your scientific conclusion? How do you say that animal has no soul?” 

“As far as the Christian faith is concerned, doesn’t it base it . . . ?” 

“Why are you bringing Christian?” Prabhupāda challenged him. 

“Well, I thought you quoted Christianity,” Mike returned. “But as far as the Christian faith is concerned, don’t they quote their scriptures?” 

“Then it is misleading,” Prabhupāda said. “As soon as you say that, ‘We Christians, we believe,’ then it is misbelief. It is not scientific.” 

“Well how does it become scientific?” Mike wanted to know. 

“Scientific because the animal eats, you eat; the animal sleeps, you sleep; the animals have sex, you have sex; the animal defends, you also defend. Then where is the difference between you and the animal? Why do you say there is no soul?” 

Although Mike appreciated Prabhupāda’s logic, he kept trying to refer back to the Christian scriptures. Śrīla Prabhupāda however told him not to bring in the scripture. He wanted him to use his own common sense in understanding his point. He said, “Apart from your believing as Christian, as we are talking, as a scientist, how do you deny this animal has no soul?” 

Since Prabhupāda had already established his credentials on the basis of scripture, Mike now sensed something to the contrary. “But ultimately you’re basing all your faith factually, aren’t you? On your reasoning?” 

“No, no, no. It is quite logic.” Prabhupāda again repeated the similarities between humans and animals. “So why do you deny this poor animal soul?” 

“Well, perhaps if I put my point perhaps a slightly different way,” Mike said. “This is a hypothetical situation, but if you, by your reasoning, could imagine something that seemed contrary to the scriptures that you were reading earlier . . . ” 

“Again scripture. Why do you bring scripture?” 

Mike said, “Well, I’m referring to your scripture, not . . . ” 

“Not my scripture. It is common sense talking.” Prabhupāda told him. 

A bit perplexed at Prabhupāda’s departure from the scriptural basis, Mike said, “Yes, but everything that you, because in . . . ” 

“No, forget that everything. Come to the common platform of understanding. The animal is eating, you are eating; the animal sleeping, you are sleeping; the animal is defending, you are defending; the animal is having sex, you have sex; the animal have children, you have got children; you have got a living place, they have got a living place. If your body’s cut, there is blood; if the animal body’s cut, there is blood. So all the similarities are there. So why you deny one similarity? Analogy. Analogy means points of similarity. So this is logic. You have read logic? There is a chapter, analogy. Analogy means points of similarity. If the points of similarity are so many things, why one similarity should be avoided? That is not logic, that is not science.” 

Now in the spirit of things Mike presented his own converse hypothesis, that if you started from the point of saying that animals have no soul, then you would have to say that humans also have no soul. “What proof have you got then that a human being has got a soul?” he asked. 

“That is, I have already begun,” Prabhupāda said. “As soon as the soul is gone, what is the value of your this beautiful body? Who cares for this body? You throw it away, kick it out. And now, if I touch your hair, there will be fight!”  

Mike laughed along with the rest of us. 

“Yes,” Prabhupāda said with a grin. “That is the distinction. The soul is there and soul is not there. As soon as soul is not there, it has no value, useless. Therefore you have to study. At the present moment people are so dull-headed, they are not taking the important point, that this body one minute ago it was so important, and now it has no value. If you kick on his face, nobody will say. But they have no brain to understand what is that thing missing, that it has become so unimportant that within a minute . . . They have no brain. The so-called scientists, philosophers—all dull-headed. It is very abominable condition of society. There is no man who is real brain.” 

Picking up on Prabhupāda’s criticism of the leaders of modern society, Mike asked, “Are you, sir, writing off all scientists because they’ve failed to understand the spiritual dimension in life?” Then, since Prabhupāda had been a chemist in his previous secular life, he added, “Presumably you think that science is also important, even if scientists are being dull-headed.” 

“Important so far. Not all-important.” Prabhupāda said. 

Mike now retraced his steps a little. He was still intrigued by Prabhupāda’s previous insistence on the use of logic. “When we were differing a few minutes ago, you were saying don’t bring the scriptures in, use common sense. But what part do the scriptures have in your religion? How important are they?” 

“Our religion is science,” Prabhupāda said. “When we speak that a child grows to a boy, it is science, it is not religion. Every child grows to become a boy; where is the question of religion? Every man dies; where is the question of religion? And when a man dies, the body is useless. So where is the question of religion? It is science. Either you are Christian or Hindu or Muslim, when you die your body’s useless—this is science. You cannot say that ‘We are Christian. Now the body is dead. Now we don’t consider it as dead. We believe it is not dead.’ No, it is dead. So when we speak, we speak on this basis, that the body is important—it doesn’t matter whether it is Christian body or Hindu body or Muslim body—so long the soul is there. When the soul is not there, it is useless. It is applicable to everyone.” 

“I think I’m beginning to get, if you could explain, a bit confused. What I’d like you to explain is . . . ” 

“We are trying to educate people on this basis.” 

“But that’s, if I understand you correctly, you seem to be educating people on a purely scientific basis.” 

“Yes.” Prabhupāda affirmed. 

“So where does religion come into it at all?” Mike asked, his face a polite expression of puzzlement. 

“Religion means also science. But they have taken religion as faith, ‘I believe.’ Actually, religion means . . . ” Prabhupāda looked in my direction. “Just like in the dictionary, you find what is the religion.” 

“Obeying the Supreme Person,” I recalled from memory. 

“Yes,” Prabhupāda said to Mike. “Religion means to learn how to obey the supreme controller. That is religion. So you may be Christian, I may be Hindu, it doesn’t matter. But we must accept there is a supreme controller.” 

Flicking through the pages of the dictionary on Prabhupāda’s desk I found the reference. “It says, ‘Human recognition of superhuman controlling power . . . ” 

“Just see!” Prabhupāda interjected. 

“ . . .  and especially of a personal God entitled to obedience, and effect of such recognition on the conduct of mental attitude.” 

“This is religion,” Prabhupāda told Mike. “This is religion. So this religion is applicable to everyone, any human being. Why do you bring Christian or Hindu or Muslim, or . . . ? Everyone has to accept that. That is real religion. And this is not religion: ‘We believe there is no soul of the animal.’ That is most unscientific. Religion means scientific understanding of the supreme controller. Immediately you have to accept. As soon as you accept there is supreme controller, so immediately as you violate the laws of the supreme controller, you are punished. That is nature’s law.” 

“In your opinion, is it impossible for somebody to be a scientist and not to believe in God?” Mike asked. 

“Unless he’s a rascal, he cannot say that,” Prabhupāda declared. “Scientifically, you have to accept God; you cannot deny God.” Prabhupāda gave his example of Mother Nature giving birth to the various types of living beings. Then he said, “If the material nature is the mother and all these living entities are children, then where is the father?” 

Mike hesitated a moment. “I don’t know.” Then he answered, “The father is God.” 

“There,” Prabhupāda said, with satisfaction. “You must know there must be father. I may not know him, but without father the children cannot be brought into existence. This is science. First of all, try to understand this. The mother is there, the children are there. So there must be father. This is scientific. So who is that rascal scientist who can say, ‘No, there is no father’? Then he’s not a scientist, he’s a rascal. How you can deny the existence of father? You may not see Him or may see Him, it doesn’t matter; there must be Father. This simple understanding.” 

“So you completely write off anybody who says that there should be a step of faith . . . ,” Mike started to say. 

“No faith!” Prabhupāda declared. “It is fact!” 

“So you would say that science can prove that God exists?” 

“Yes, here is proof. It doesn’t require much proof.” 

Satisfied with Prabhupāda’s reasoning, Mike moved on to the classic question: “Can you tell me what you believe to be the meaning of life? Why do we exist in the first place?” 

Prabhupāda’s reply was disarmingly simple. “Meaning of life means to enjoy. But we are in a different platform of life; therefore we are suffering instead of enjoying. But if you come to the real platform, then you enjoy.” He asserted that although everyone is after enjoyment and struggling to achieve happiness, at the present moment their life is not enjoyable. He asked Mike if he agreed. 

“You are saying that at the present moment we are all suffering?” Mike asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Yes,” said Mike. “I would agree with that.” 

“Then the question should be, ‘I want to enjoy. Why am I suffering?’ Then you will have to mold your real life; then you’ll enjoy. And that,” Prabhupāda told him, “is spiritual knowledge.” 

As the hour long interview came near to its close, Mike asked his final two questions, both of them addressed to Śrīla Prabhupāda’s own personal spiritual status. He requested Prabhupāda to speak about the different stages of spiritual development he had been through. 

Prabhupāda spoke readily. “Yes, first stage is that you are inquisitively trying to understand. This is the first stage. This is called śraddhā, that you have got some faith, ‘What is this movement? Let me study.’ This is the beginning. Then, if you are serious, then those who are cultivating this knowledge, you mix with them, try to understand how they are feeling. Then you’ll feel, why not become one of them? Then when you become one of them, then all your misgivings go away. And then you become more faithful, then you get a taste. Why these boys are not going to see the cinema? They can go—other boys are going. They never ask me; neither they would like to see even. They hate. Their taste is different. Why they do not eat meat? Go to the restaurant? Their taste has changed. In this way you make progress. Firm faith, taste is changed, then God realization, then love of Godhead, the perfection. That is wanted, love of Godhead. That is first-class religion. Not that ritualistic ceremony, ‘I believe,’ ‘This belief.’ That is not religion; that is cheating. Really when you develop your love for God, that is perfection of religion.” 

Apparently satisfied, Mike asked his remaining question, “Perhaps finally, then, I could ask you, do you ever have any doubts?” 

Prabhupāda’s eyes widened. “If I have doubts, how I am preaching? That means I am cheating. And how I am writing so many books? Do you think a man with doubt can produce, in doubtful condition, he can produce so many books? Do you think like that?” 

Mike became a little sheepish, especially hearing us chuckling in the background. “Well, I don’t know, I just . . . ” 

“Well, you should know!” Prabhupāda declared, his strength of conviction making us laugh. 

“So you never doubt any of this, anything at all?” 

Prabhupāda smiled at him. “We are sure.” 

The official interview over, Mike remained for a few minutes, gladly accepting a small plate of halavā and milk sweets. “It’s lovely,” he said, and asked how it was made. 

“Most of our preparations are made from milk products,” Prabhupāda said. “Therefore we are so much fond of cow protection. It gives the basic principle of palatable foodstuff. But these people, they do not know. They simply cut the throat of the cow and boil it and with salt!”  

Mike laughed along with us as Prabhupāda continued to describe the value of mother cow. “They do not know how to keep the cow and take milk from it and prepare hundreds and thousands of nice preparations. That is a lack of civilization. Just like all the aborigines, they find an animal, kill it and eat. They do not how to utilize the animals, most aboriginals. We keep cows, we take milk, and from milk we make yogurt, we make ghee, and from ghee we prepare so many things.” 

“What do you do with a cow when it dies?” Mike asked. “Do you just bury it?”  

Jovially Prabhupāda answered, “Yes. The cow-eaters can come and take it free of charge.”  

Perhaps only half-jokingly Mike replied, “Well, let me know, you know.” 

Prabhupāda told him of the system still current in parts of India. “You can get the skin free of charges. There is a class, when the cow dies, they are called—they are called chāmar. So he comes, take away the dead animal, and they eat the flesh and take the skin, make shoes. They get all, everything free. There is no question of going to the butcher’s place to purchase. So this much patience they have got, that ‘We want to eat this cow. All right, let us wait till her death.’  

“ ‘No, immediately!’  

“Just see, what a civilization. And cow is giving milk, she is mother. Killing the mother, do you think it is civilization? Mother who has given you milk in your childhood, and maintained your life, and because she is old, cutting throat. Is that good civilization?” 

Mike obviously hadn’t given it much thought, but Prabhupāda’s remarks made sense. “Seems silly, doesn’t it,” he said. 

As Jayatīrtha showed him pictures of New Vrindaban, Mike asked Śrīla Prabhupāda if he found the English weather cold.  

Prabhupāda, who is still coughing and full of mucus, told him, “We are accustomed to tropical climate. Heat does not disturb us, but cold disturbs us. We can tolerate extreme heat, one hundred and twenty degrees, but we cannot tolerate fifty degree cold.” 

Mike laughed. “That’s cold!?”  

As Mike finished his prasādam Prabhupāda had a question for him. “Why young men are attracted to, they inquire? Why young men are attracted in this Movement?” 

Mike shrugged amiably. “What is the answer?” 

“They are receptive,” Prabhupāda told him. “Young man is blank slate. They are not sophisticated, therefore they receive very nicely. Mind is open. And they are not so sinful, because they are young.” 

“Not quite so defeated by material nature,” I suggested. 

“Yes. There is time,” Prabhupāda said. 

Prabhupāda  encouraged Mike’s receptivity and quick-wittedness. “You come here every Sunday. Take our, this prasādam.” 

Mike thought the proposition a good one, at least in terms of getting more news stories. “I’d very much like, if I could sometime in the future, perhaps to come and interview some of the people who are here. That would be possible if sometime I could just spend the day up here and talk to some . . . ” 

“You can live here comfortably, yes,” Prabhupāda said, giving me the distinct impression he meant Mike should come for more than just an interview. Śrīla Prabhupāda mentioned how George Harrison had spent yesterday with him. Then, before sending him down to see the ārati ceremony in the temple below, Prabhupāda appealed to him, “I shall request you, you are young man, just try to study our philosophy. And as you are journalist, try to do some good to the people. That is your duty.” 

Amiable as Mike was, he remained noncommittal. “Well, certainly we’re trying to present both other people’s views and . . . ” 

“Don’t take it as a sectarian religious system,” Prabhupāda assured him. “It is very scientific understanding for spiritual life.” 

Mike expressed a genuine satisfaction in having met Śrīla Prabhupāda. “Thank you very much, pleasure to meet you.” Then he went off with Mukunda to view the Deities. 

It was a great interview, one of the best of the tour. Mike was intelligent and quickly picked up on Prabhupāda’s points. He had had no difficulty following Prabhupāda’s accent or the philosophy he spoke.  

Harikeśa Mahārāja and I lingered a few minutes in Prabhupāda’s room, keen for more of his association and eager to offer him praise. Listening to Śrīla Prabhupāda is always nectarean, but this exchange had been particularly sweet. I said, “You’re very expert. You capture them, and then you guide what they are going to say. It’s perfect.” 

Harikeśa was also full of admiration. “I was noticing that, that when you finish speaking with somebody, although he’s bewildered, all of a sudden he understands, and he becomes amazed. I mean that happens with me also. It’s just, it’s the most fantastic technique. You’re so patient.” 

I recalled how he had dealt with the reporter from the Associated Press in New York, forcing him to keep with the analogies of the car and petrol, and then the breaking of bricks in prison, until he understood. “You do it in such a way that they think that they’re asking very good questions from their own intelligence. Actually, you’ve already captured them.” 

Prabhupāda laughed. “He said that breaking the bricks is the business. I said the sooner you give up this, then you are happy. The karmīs want this, breaking the bricks. They think this is civilization. Brick, and bring more bricks and break it—that is civilization.” 

Harikeśa’s adoration flowed copiously. “We have to get you on every radio in the world, Prabhupāda. We just have to put you on the radio everywhere.” 

Perhaps recognizing the physical impossibility of that, but appreciating the sentiment, Prabhupāda told him with a smile, “You do it, I give you the ideas.” 

Harikeśa though didn’t feel it was just a question of someone speaking the philosophy; it was Śrīla Prabhupāda’s own transendental personality. “Oh, everything you say is so wonderful. We have to put you on the radio. These people have no idea.” 

Prabhupāda chuckled. “No, thing is that I say all these things because I always think of this. I always think.” 

I added, “If you don’t forget Kṛṣṇa, then . . . ” 

“Yes,” Prabhupāda confirmed. “You always think how to talk with these demonic people. Then Kṛṣṇa will give you intelligence.” 

“This is the most difficult welfare work,” I suggested. 

“Not difficult,” Prabhupāda said. “It is easiest. But this rascal will not take the easiest.” 

“That’s the difficulty,” I said. 

“Yes. They have made it difficult. Accept the supreme controller, everything is clear. Accept the father, everything is clear. There is mother, there is children—no father! How rascal they have made. How it can be? No experience, and still they will persist, ‘No father. Can you show me the father?’ What is this nonsense? If you do not see the father, it does not mean that there is no father? Father must be there. You may not have seen, that is different thing. And you can see the father because the father is maintaining the family order. Therefore there is father. From this simple analogy. Just like father gives money in the hand of the mother and she maintains the children’s comforts. Similarly, whatever comforts we are getting, from the nature’s gift, you say that is arrangement of the father. Mayādhyakṣeṇa prakṛtiḥ sūyate sa-carācaram. Clearly said. Father gives order, ‘Nature, do this way, do this way. He’s disobeying, then punish him like this, that’s all. Don’t give him anything. Punish him.’ ”  

Referring to the current drought in Europe he said, “Just like nature is not supplying water. The order of Kṛṣṇa: ‘Let them suffer for some time.’ This is going on. You cannot check it, Father’s order. Common sense. How they can deny the Supreme Father? Dull-headed fools. Mūḍha.” 

Later on Prabhupāda remarked that the LBC interview contained ninety per cent of our philosophy and should be printed in BTG. 

July 28th, 1976

After a brief darśana of the Deities Śrīla Prabhupāda set off in the Rolls Royce to catch the flight to Paris. A host of devotees accompanied him, this time in a more joyous mood than at our arrival, because he is at least well enough to walk and resume his travels. Our plane left in mid-morning.