AC Bhaktivedanta Swami Srila Prabhupada
INTRODUCTION
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The worldwide fame of His Divine Grace A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami, later known as Srila Prabhupada, was to come after 1965- after he arrived in America. Before leaving India he had written three books; in the next twelve years he was to write more than sixty. Before he left India he had initiated one disciple; in the next twelve years he would initiate more than four thousand. Before he left India, hardly anyone had believed that he could fulfill his vision of a worldwide society of Krsna devotees; but in the next decade he would form and maintain the International Society for Krishna Consciousness and open more than a hundred centers. Before sailing for America, he had never been outside India; but in the next twelve years he would travel many times around the world propagating the Krsna consciousness movement.
Although his life's contribution may appear to have come in a late burst of revolutionary spiritual achievements, the first sixty-nine years of his life were a preparation for those achievements. And although to Americans Prabhupada and his teachings were an unknown sudden appearance "He looked like the genie that popped out of Aladdin's lamp" he was the stalwart representative of a centuries-old cultural tradition.
Śrila Prabhupada was born Abhay Charan De on September 1, 1896, in Calcutta, India. His father was Gour Mohan De, a cloth merchant, and his mother was Rajani. His parents, in accordance with Bengali tradition, employed an astrologer to calculate the child's horoscope, and they were made jubilant by the auspicious reading. The astrologer made a specific prediction: when this child reached the age of seventy, he would cross the ocean, become a great exponent of religion, and open 108 temples.
Abhay's home at 151 Harrison Road was in the Indian section of north Calcutta. Abhay's father, Gour Mohan De, belonged to the aristocratic suvarna-vanik merchant community. He was related to the wealthy Mullik family, which for hundreds of years had traded in gold and salt with the British. Originally the Mulliks had been members of the De family, a gotra (lineage) that traces back to the ancient sage Gautama; but during the Mogul period of pre-British India, a Muslim ruler had conferred the title Mullik ("lord") on a wealthy, influential branch of the Des. Then, several generations later, a daughter of the Des had married into the Mullik family, and the two families had remained close ever since.
An entire block of properties on either side of Harrison Road belonged to Lokanath Mullik, and Gour Mohan and his family lived in a few rooms of a three-story building within the Mullik properties. Across the street from the Des' residence was a Radha-Govinda temple where for the past 150 years the Mulliks had maintained worship of the Deity of Radha and Krsna. Various shops on the Mullik properties provided income for the Deity and for the priests conducting the worship. Every morning before breakfast, the Mullik family members would visit the temple to see the Deity of Radha-Govinda. They would offer cooked rice, kacauris, and vegetables on a large platter and would then distribute the prasadam to the Deities' morning visitors from the neighborhood. Among the daily visitors was Abhay Charan, accompanying his mother, father, or servant.
Gour Mohan was a pure Vaisnava, and he raised his son to be Krsna conscious. Since his own parents had also been Vaisnavas, Gour Mohan had never touched meat, fish, eggs, tea, or coffee. His complexion was fair and his disposition reserved. At night, before locking his cloth shop. he would set a bowl of rice in the middle of the floor to satisfy the rats, so they wouldn't gnaw the cloth in their hunger. On returning home he would read from Caitanya-caritämrta and Srimad-Bhagavatam (the main scriptures of Bengali Vaisnavas), chant on his japa beads, and worship the Deity of Lord Krsna. He was gentle and affectionate and would never punish Abhay. Even when obliged to correct him, he wouldfirst apologize:
Even Caitanya Mahaprabhu's father would chastise Him. So don't mind." A picture always remained in Prabhupada's memory of his father's devotional worship of Lord Krsna. He would recall how his father used to come home late at night from the cloth shop and faithfully perform his worship of Lord Krsna before the home altar. "We would be sleeping." Prabhupada recalled, "and father would be doing ärati, We would hear the ding, ding, ding-we would hear the bell and wake up and see him bowing down before Krsna."
Gour Mohan wanted Vaisnava goals for his son; he wanted Abhay to become a servant of Radha and Krsna, to become a preacher of the Bhagavatam, and to learn the devotional art of playing the mrdanga drum. He regularly received sadhus in his home, and he would always ask them, "Please bless my son so that Srimati Rädhäräni will grant him Her blessings." When Abhay's mother said she wanted her son to become a British lawyer when he grew up (which meant he have to go to London to study), one of the boy's uncles though 6/62 a good idea. But Gour Mohan would not hear of it; if Abhay were u England he might be influenced by European dress and manner. "He will learn drinking and woman-hunting," Gour Mohan objected. "I do not want his money."
From the beginning of Abhay's life, Gour Mohan introduced his plan. He hired a professional mrdanga player to teach Abhay the standard rhythms for accompanying kirtana. Rajani was skeptical: "What is the purpose of teaching such a young child to play the mrdanga? It is not important." But Gour Mohan had his dream of a son who would grow up singing bhajanas, playing mrdanga, and speaking on Srimad Bhagavatam.
Abhay's mother, Rajani, was thirty years old when he was born. Like her husband, she came from a long-established Gaudiya Vaisnava family. She was darker-skinned than her husband, and whereas his disposition was cool, hers tended to be fiery. Abhay saw his mother and father living together peacefully; no deep marital conflict or complicated dissatisfaction ever threatened home. Rajani was chaste and religious-minded, a model housewife in the traditional Vedic sense, dedicated to caring for her husband and children. Abhay observed his mother's simple and touching attempts to insure, by prayers and vows, that he continue to live.
Like Gour Mohan, Rajani treated Abhay as the pet child; but whereas her husband expressed his love through leniency and plans for his son's spiritual success, she expressed hers through attempts to safeguard Abhay from all danger, disease, and death. At Abhay's birth, she vowed to eat with her left hand until the day her son would notice and ask her why she was eating with the wrong hand. When one day little Abhay asked, she immediately stopped. It had been just another prescription for his survival, since she thought that by the strength of her vow he would continue to grow at least until he asked her about the vow. His mother would often take him to the Ganges and personally bathe him. When he got dysentery, she cured it with hot puris and fried eggplant with salt. Sometimes when he was ill, Abhay would show his obstinacy by refusing to take any medicine. But just as he was stubborn, his mother was determined, and she would forcibly administer medicine into his mouth. When Abhay had been unwilling to attend school, his father had remained lenient, while Rajani insisted, and even hired a man to escort him to the school.
Throughout northern India, Lord Krsna is accepted by the great majority of people as the supreme form of God. This version of Krsna is actually in accordance with the Vedic scriptures, especially the Bhagavad-gitä, which is the most widely read Vedic literature. Naturally, therefore, Abhay imbibed Krsna consciousness from his very birth. Moreover, his father was particularly religious, and in later years Prabhupada would refer to him as "a pure devotee of Krsna." Gour Mohan used to take his son, even before the child was old enough to walk, to a nearby temple of Radha-Krsna, known as Radha-Govinda Mandir. Prabhupada later recalled "standing at the doorway of the Radha Govinda temple saying prayers to Radha-Govinda murti for hours together. The Deity was so beautiful with His slanted eyes."
Abhay was also enamored with the Ratha-yäträ festival of Lord Jagannatha, held yearly in Calcutta. The biggest Calcutta Ratha-yäträ was held at the Radha-Govinda Mandir, with three separate carts bearing the deities of Jagannatha (Krsna), Balarama, and Subhadra. Beginning from the Radha-Govinda temple, the carts would proceed down Harrison Road for a short distance and then return. The temple managers would distribute large quantities of Lord Jagannatha's prasadam to the public on this day.
Ratha-yātrā was held in cities all over India, but the original Ratha-yatra, attended each year by millions of pilgrims, took place three hundred miles south of Calcutta at Jagannatha Puri. For centuries at Puri, three wooden carts forty- five feet high have, been towed by the crowds along the two-mile parade route, in commemoration of one of Lord Krsna's eternal pastimes. Abhay heard how Lord Caitanya Himself, four hundred years before, had danced and led ecstatic chanting of Hare Krsna at the Puri Ratha-yātra festival. Abhay would sometimes look at the railway time table or ask about the fare to Puri, thinking about how he would collect the money and go there.
Abhay wanted to have his own cart and perform his own Ratha-yatra, and naturally he turned to his father for help. Gour Mohan bought him a used, three-foot-high replica of a ratha (cart), and father and son together constructed supporting columns and placed a canopy on top, resembling as closely as possible the ones on the big carts at Puri. Abhay engaged his playmates in helping, especially his sister Bhavatarini, and he became their natural leader. Responding to his entreaties, amused mothers in the neighborhood agreed to cook special preparations so that he could distribute prasādam at this Ratha-yātra festival.
Like the festival at Puri, Abhay's Ratha-yātrā ran for eight consecutive days. His family members gathered, and the neighborhood children pulled the cart in procession, chanting and playing drums and karatālas.
When Abhay was about six years old, he asked his father for a Deity of his own to worship. Since infancy he had watched his father doing puja at home and had been regularly seeing the worship of Rädhä- Govinda and thinking, "When will I be able to worship Krsna like this?" Gour Mohan purchased a pair of little Rädhä-Krsna Deities and gave Them to his son. From then on, whatever young Abhay ate he would first offer to Radha and Krsna, and imitating his father and the priest of Rädhä-Govinda, he would offer his Deities a ghee lamp and put Them to rest at night.
When in the late 1960s Srila Prabhupada began introducing large Ratha-yatra festivals in U.S. cities and when he began installing Deities of Radha-Krsna in his ISKCON temples, he said that he had learned all these things from his father. The only very important iter of Krsna consciousness that he had not learned from his father, he said, was the importance of printing and distributing transcendental literature. That he learned exclusively from his spiritual master, whom he met later in his youth.
During Abhay's college years, his father arranged for his marriage, selecting Radharani Datta, the daughter of a merchant family with whom he was associated. For several years Abhay lived with his family, and she with hers; so his marital responsibilities of supporting a family were not immediate. First he had to finish college.
But during his fourth year of college Abhay began to feel reluctant about accepting his degree. He had become a sympathizer to the nationalist cause, which advocated national schools and self-government.
In the class one year ahead of Abhay was a very spirited nationalist, Subhas Chandra Bose, who was later to become the leader of the Indian National Army, formed to overthrow the British rule of India. When Subhas Chandra Bose urged the students to support the Indian independence movement, Abhay listened. He liked Bose's faith in spirituality, his enthusiasm and determination. Abhay wasn't interested in political activity, but the ideal of the independence movement appealed to him. The call to svaraj, independence, although covert, attracted virtually all the students, and Abhay among them.
Abhay was especially interested in Mohandas K. Gandhi. Gandhi always carried a Bhagavad-gita and spoke of being guided by the Gita above all other books. He was pure in his personal habits, abstaining from intoxication, meat-eating, and illicit sex. He lived simply, like a sadhu, yet he seemed to have more integrity than the begging sadhus Abhay had seen so many times. Abhay read Gandhi's speeches and followed his activities. Maybe Gandhi, he thought, could carry spirituality into the field of action.
Gandhi called on Indian students to forsake their studies. The foreign-run schools, he said, instilled a slave mentality; they made one no more than a puppet in the hands of the British. Still, a college degree was the basis of a life's career. Abhay weighed the choices carefully and in 1920, after completing his fourth year of college and passing his examination, refused to accept his diploma. In this way, he registered his protest and signalled his response to Gandhi's call.
After the killing at Jallianwalla Bagh, where British soldiers had shot to death hundreds of unarmed Indians who had gathered for a peaceful meeting, Gandhi called for complete noncooperation and boycott of everything British. In refusing his degree, Abhay was moving to align himself more closely with Gandhi's independence movement. Although Abhay's father was disturbed, he didn't resent his son's action. He was more concerned for Abhay's future than for the destiny of India's politics. He therefore arranged for good employment for Abhay through a prominent friend of the family, a Dr. Kartick Chandra Bose. Dr. Bose, a distinguished surgeon and chemical industrialist, had his own establishment, Bose's Laboratory, in Calcutta, and he gladly accepted Abhay as a department manager in his firm.
Often throughout his life, Srila Prabhupada would feelingly recall his first meeting in 1922 with his spiritual master, Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati Thakura. At first Abhay didn't want to meet him, having been unimpressed by the so-called sadhus who used to visit his father's house. But a friend of Abhay's had insisted, escorting him to the quarters of the Gaudiya Math, where they were brought onto the roof and into the presence of Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati.
No sooner did Abhay and his friend respectfully bow before the saintly person and prepare to sit than he said to them, "You are educated young men. Why don't you preach Lord Caitanya's message throughout the whole world?" Abhay was very surprised that the sadhu had immediately asked them to become preachers on his behalf. Impressed by Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati, he wanted to test him with intelligent inquiries.
Abhay was dressed in white khadi cloth, which at that time in India proclaimed one to be a supporter of Gandhi's cause for political emancipation. In the spirit of Indian nationalism, therefore, Abhay inquired, "Who will hear your Caitanya's message? We are a
dependent country. First India must be come independent. How can
we spread India's culture if we are under British rule?" Srila Bhaktisiddhanta replied that Krsna consciousness didn't have to wait for a change in Indian politics, nor was it dependent on who ruled. Krsna consciousness was so important that it could not wait.
Abhay was struck by his boldness. The whole of India was in turmoil and seemed to support what Abhay had said. Many famous leaders of Bengal, many saints, even Gandhi himself-men who were educated and spiritually minded-all might well have asked the same question, challenging this sadhu's relevance.
But Srila Bhaktisiddhanta contended all governments were temporary; the eternal reality was Krsna consciousness, and the real self was the spirit soul. No man-made political system could help humanity. This was the verdict of the Vedic scriptures and the line of spiritual masters. Real public welfare work, he said, should go beyond concerns of the temporary and prepare a person for his next life and his eternal relationship with the Supreme.
Abhay had already concluded that this was certainly not just another dubious sadhu, and he listened attentively to the arguments of Srila Bhaktisiddhanta and found himself gradually becoming convinced. Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati quoted Sanskrit verses from Bhagavad-gitä, wherein Lord Krsna declares that a person should give up all other religious duties and surrender unto Him, the Supreme Personality of God head. Abhay had never forgotten Lord Krsna and His teachings in Bhagavad-gitä, and his family had always worshiped Lord Caitanya Mahaprabhu, whose mission Bhaktisiddhänta Sarasvati was espousing. But he was astounded to hear those teachings presented so masterfully.
Abhay felt defeated in argument. But he liked it. When the discussion was completed after two hours, he and his friend walked down the stairs and onto the street. Srila Bhaktisiddhanta's explanation of the independence movement as a temporary, incomplete cause had made a deep impression on Abhay. He felt himself less a nationalist and more a follower of Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati. He also thought it would have been better if he weren't married. This great personality was asking him to preach; he could have immediately joined. But to leave his family, he felt, would be an injustice. "He's wonderful!" Abhay told his friend. "The message of Lord
Caitanya is in the hands of a very expert person." Srila Prabhupada would later recall that on that very night he had actually accepted Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati as his spiritual master. "Not officially," Prabhupada said, "but in my heart. I was thinking that I had met a very nice saintly person."
After his first meeting with Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati, Abhay began to associate more with the Gaudiya Math devotees. They gave him books and told him the history of their spiritual master. Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati was the son of Bhaktivinoda Thakura, another great Vaisnava teacher in the disciplic line from Lord Caitanya. Before the time of Bhaktivinoda, the teachings of Lord Caitanya had been obscured by teachers and sects falsely claiming to be followers of Lord Caitanya but deviating in various drastic ways from His pure teachings; the good reputation of Vaisnavism had been compromised. Bhaktivinoda Thakura, however, through his prolific writings and through his social position as a high government officer, had reestablished the respectability of Vaisnavism. He preached that the teachings of Lord Caitanya were the highest form of theism and were intended not for a particular sect or religion or nation but for all the people of the world. He prophesied that Lord Caitanya's teachings would go worldwide, and he yearned for it.
Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati was teaching the conclusion of Lord Caitanya's teachings, that Lord Krsna is the Supreme Personality of Godhead and that the chanting of His holy name should be stressed above all other religious practices. In former ages, other methods of attaining to God had been available, but in the present age of Kali only the chanting of Hare Krsna would be effective. On the authority of scriptures such as Brhan-naradiya Purana and the Upanisads, Bhaktivinoda Thakura and Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati had specifically stressed the importance of the maha-mantra: Hare Krsna, Hare Krsna, Krsna Krsna, Hare Hare Hare Rama, Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare.
Abhay knew these scriptural references, he knew the chanting.and he knew the conclusions of the Gita. But now, as he eagerly read the writings of the great acaryas, he had fresh realizations of the scope of Lord Caitanya's mission. Now he was discovering the depths of his own Vaisnava heritage and its efficacy for bringing about the highest welfare for people in an age destined to be full of troubles.
For business purposes, Abhay and his wife and family moved to Allahabad, and it was there, in 1932, that he received initiation and became a disciple of Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati. The story of the next thirty years of his life in India is the story of a single, growing desire to preach Krsna consciousness worldwide, as his spiritual master had ordered him.
Abhay's family responsibilities and his preaching, however, seemed to conflict. His wife was religious at home, but didn't like the idea of working to spread Krsna consciousness. Even when Abhay attempted to hold gatherings in their home and speak from Bhagavad- gitä, she preferred to stay upstairs drinking tea. Still, despite her obstinacy, Abhay remained patient and tried to include her. As a pharmaceutical salesman, Abhay did a lot of traveling by rail,especially in northern India. He thought that if he could become wealthy, he could then use his money for propagating the mission of Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati, and this thought encouraged him in his business.
Abhay was unable to travel with his spiritual master or to see him often, but whenever possible he tried to time a business trip to Calcutta when his spiritual master was also there. Thus over the next four years he managed to see his spiritual master about a dozen times. Although Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati was so strong in argument against other philosophies that even his own disciples were cautious about approaching him if he were sitting alone, and although Abhay's contact with him was quite limited, still Srila Bhaktisiddhanta would always treat him kindly. Prabhupada would later recall, "Sometimes my Godbrothers would criticize because I would talk a little freely with him, and they would quote this English saying, 'Fools rush in where angels fear to tread, But I would think, 'Fool? Well, maybe. But that is the way I am. My Guru Maharaja was always very, very affectionate to me."
In 1935, on the occasion of Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati's sixty. second birthday. Abhay submitted a poem and an essay at a meeting of his Godbrothers in Bombay. The writings were well received and were consequently published in the Gaudiya Math magazine, The Harmonist. One of his Godbrothers informally dubbed Abhay as kavi, "learned poet." For Abhay, however, the glory of his first published writing came when the poem reached Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati and gave him pleasure. One stanza specifically made Srila Bhaktisiddhanta so happy that he made a point of showing it to all of his guests:
Absolute is sentient
Thou hast proved,
Impersonal calamity
Thou hast moved
Somehow, in this simple couplet Abhay had captured the essence of his spiritual master's preaching against impersonalist philosophies, and Srila Bhaktisiddhanta took it as an indication of how well Abhay knew the mind of his gurudeva. Śrīla Bhaktisiddhanta also found Abhay's essay pleasing, and he showed it to some of his confidential devotees. "What ever he writes," he instructed the editor of The Harmonist, "publish it."
One of Abhay's most significant meetings with his spiritual master took place in Vṛndāvana in 1935. Abhay was no longer a newcomer, but a bona fide disciple, doing his best within the context of a householder's life. One day as Śrīla Bhaktisiddhanta was walking by the sacred lake of Radha-kunda with Abhay and several other disciples, he began speaking confidentially to Abhay. Some of his leading disciples had been quarreling, he said, and this distressed him very much. The disciples had been fighting over who would use various rooms and facilities at the Gaudiya Math headquarters in Calcutta. If they were quarreling even now, what would they do after their spiritual master passed away? Abhay had no part in these matters and did not even know the details of what was involved. But as he listened to his spiritual master, he also became distressed.
Deeply concerned, Srila Bhaktisiddhänta said to Abhay, "There will be fire." One day there would be fire in the Calcutta Gaudiya Math,and that fire of party interest would spread and destroy. Abhay heard but did not know what to make of it. "It would be better," said Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati, "to take the marble from the walls of the temple to secure money. If I could do this and print books, that would be better." Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati then said directly to Abhay, "I had a desire to print some books. If you ever get money, print books." Standing by Radha-kunda and beholding his spiritual master, Abhay felt these words deeply enter his life-"If you ever get money, print books." Srila Bhaktisiddhanta departed from the mortal world in December 1936. One month before his departure, Abhay wrote him a letter. He was thinking that as a grhastha he couldn't fully serve his spiritual master, and he wanted to know what more he could do. Thus he inquired, "Is there any particular service I can do?" Two weeks later Abhay received a reply: I am fully confident that you can explain in English our thoughts and
arguments to the people who are not conversant with the languages [Bengali and Hindi]... This will do much good to yourself as well as your audience. I have every hope that you can turn yourself into a very good English preacher.
Abhay at once recognized this to be the same instruction he had received at his first meeting with Srila Bhaktisiddhanta, in 1922. He took it as a confirmation. He now had no doubt as to the purpose of his life.
"The fire in the matha "Srila Bhaktisiddhanta had predicted broke out almost immediately. Some senior disciples quarreled about succession of leadership in the mathas, and matters soon degraded into legal disputes over temple proprietorship. As a grhastha businessman, Abhay had taken little part in the Gaudiya Math activities, and now that was in his favor. He was at a distance from the fray, but lamented that his spiritual master's order for his disciples to work cooperatively was being disregarded and his united institution of temples and printing presses was collapsing.
Another, much greater dispute soon erupted-World War II. By their tactic known as the "denial policy" the British sank many Indian boats carrying food and destroyed much of east India's rice crop, fearing that the food would fall into the hands of the enemy. This left Indians starving and without the boats they needed for trade. The famine that ensued was the worst to hit Bengal in 150 years.
Abhay managed to purchase just enough for his own family to survive, but month after month he saw the footpaths and open spaces congested with beggars, cooking their food on improvised stoves and sleeping in the open or beneath trees. He saw starving children rummaging in the dustbins for a morsel of food. From there it was but a step to fighting with the dogs for a share of the garbage, and this also became a familiar sight in the Calcutta streets.
Abhay comprehended the sufferings of famine through the teachings he had heard from Srila Bhaktisiddhanta. By God's arrangement the earth could produce enough food; the trouble was man's greed and mismanagement. "There is no scarcity in the world," Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati had said. "The only scarcity is of Krsna consciousness." Now, more than ever, this spiritual vision seemed relevant, and Abhay grew anxious for a way to apply what he knew to be the remedy for all ills. Convinced that he had an urgent message for the war-weary citizens of the world, he considered starting a publication that would present the world's crises through the eyes of the scripture in the same bold style as had his spiritual master. There was no shortage of ideas, and he had been saving money from his business for this very purpose.
From the front room of his apartment in Calcutta, Abhay conceived, wrote, edited, and typed the manuscript for a magazine. He gave it the name Back to Godhead: "Edited and founded under the direct order of His Divine Grace Sri Srimad Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati Goswami Prabhupada, by Mr. Abhay Charan De."
Repeatedly, however, he had to plead with government officials for permission to use paper to print his journal. Although he was only one voice out of billions, with no backing or money or following, he was confident in his guru and in Lord Krsna. He had the conviction of his important message; therefore, even during the war, in between explosions and deaths, he released his first issue, "because there is a great need of a literature like this."
Large national events continued to play across the worldly stage throughout the 1940s in India. In 1947 India gained her long-sought independence from Britain. But the national happiness was soon followed by horror as hundreds of thousands died in the fighting that followed the partition of the nation into India and Pakistan. As Prabhupada would later recall, "We have seen in 1947, Hindu-Muslim fighting. One party was Hindu, the other party was Muslim. They fought, and so many died. And after death there was no distinction who was Hindu or who was Muslim-the municipal men gathered the bodies together in piles to throw them somewhere."
Abhay was not hopeful about promises for peace, nor did he consider Indian independence the solution. Unless the leaders were God conscious, what change would there be? In Back to Godhead, in his article "Gandhi-Jinnah Talks," he wrote, "Fighting will go on between Hindu and Mohammedan, between Christians and Christians, between Buddhist and Buddhist till the day of annihilation." His point: as long as people are possessed of selfish interests and desires for sense gratification, they will continue fighting. Real unity was possible only on the platform of spiritual understanding and service to the Supreme.
Even when Abhay was unable to raise enough money to publish regular issues of Back to Godhead, he continued writing. His most ambitious project was a commentary on the Bhagavad-gitä, but he also preached Lord Caitanya's message through letters. He wrote to many leaders in government, to respectable acquaintances, and to people whose articles he had read or whose activities had caught his eye in the newspaper. Presenting himself as a humble servant, he wouldexplain his ideas on how to apply India's original Krsna conscious
culture as the successful solution to all manner of dilemmas.
Sometimes his letters drew replies from government offices and secretaries, but largely they were ignored. That Abhay would think of engaging Mohandas Gandhi in devotional service was inevitable. Because of his lifetime of courageous, ascetic, and moral activities on behalf of his countrymen, Gandhi had great power to influence the Indian masses. Besides, Abhay had a special feeling for him, having been a follower of his as a young man. On December 7, 1947, Abhay wrote a long letter to Gandhi in New Delhi. He was aware that Gandhi was at odds with many of his former followers, who had taken leadership of the nation and were neglecting his doctrines of Hindu-Muslim unity and agrarianism. Hindus and Muslims alike were critical of him. At seventy-eight years, he was physically weak and melancholy.
Abhay knew that his letter would probably never reach Gandhi, but he sent it nonetheless. Addressing himself as Gandhi's "unknown friend," he wrote, "I tell you as a sincere friend that you must immediately retire from active politics if you do not desire to die an inglorious death." Although warmly acknowledging Gandhi's honor and prestige, he said that it would all amount to illusion unless Gandhi retired from politics and engaged in understanding and preaching Bhagavad-gitä. Especially now that Gandhi was at the end of his life, Abhay warned, he should quit the political field and approach the Absolute Truth. At least for a month, Abhay requested, Gandhi should
retire and engage with him in discussing Bhagavad-gitä. Abhay never received a reply to his letter, and one month later, on January 30, Gandhi met his death. Abhay's letter of the previous month suddenly read like a prophecy.
While Abhay's involvement in writing and preaching intensified, his business and family affairs dwindled. He felt that a particular verse spoken by Lord Krsna in Srimad Bhagavatam applied to him: "When I feel especially merciful toward someone, I gradually take away all his material possessions. His friends and relatives then reject the poverty-stricken and most wretched fellow"-leaving him only Krsna. When Abhay's business in Allahabad went deeply into debt, he tried to open a factory in Lucknow. At first it appeared profitable, but eventually it also lost money and had to be closed.
While continuing to maintain his wife and children in an
apartment in Calcutta, Abhay mostly lived away from them. He moved back to Allahabad, but he was putting less and less energy into selling pharmaceutical products. He was more interested in preaching. When a hospital customer in the city of Jhansi invited Abhay to lecture at the Gita Mandir, he gladly accepted. His lecture was well received by the Jhansi audience, which was made up largely of young medical students and professionals. Their appreciation, however, was mostly social and cultural. They were accustomed to hearing from many speakers, whom they invited to their lecture programs, and they never intended that Abhay try to establish a permanent center in Jhansi. But Abhay was visionary and ambitious. Leaving his Allahabad affairs in the hands of his son, he tried to create a spiritual movement in Jhansi.
Abhay was 56, and he thought that he must now begin very seriously manifesting the orders of his spiritual master. As he told one of the men in Jhansi, "The whole world is waiting, Mr. Mitra, for spiritual revolution." Since his spiritual master's institution, the Gaudiya Math, had become ineffectual due to fights and permanent factions, he attempted to start a movement of devotees with worldwide activities. Although he had only one or two active helpers, he obtained the use of an abandoned temple and began working toward what he envisioned as a kind of spiritual United Nations. He wrote a charter and On reading the news, he was silent, but then laughed and uttered the Bhagavatamverse: Krsna's mercy was to crush the material success of a sincere devotee. When one of Abhay's Jhansi friends advised him to return to Allahabad, he replied, "No, this is good for me. First I was sad to see this, but 1 can see that one great attachment has come to an end, and my life is now fully surrendered and dedicated to Sri Sri Radha-Krsna."
On a visit to his family in Calcutta, Abhay made the final break from his family responsibilities. He still had a small business there, and he had gone to try and raise funds for his missionary work in Jhansi. But inevitably he was plunged again into family responsibilities: some of his children were still unmarried, rent and bills had to be paid. Even if he were to develop his Calcutta medical shop, the family would demand whatever he earned, and even if he were to accede to his family's demands and live at home, the greatest difficulty would still remain: they weren't serious about devotional service.
What was the use, he thought, if they wouldn't become devotees? His wife and relatives were not interested in his Jhansi preaching but wanted him to spend more time in business and family affairs. His father-in-law complained, "Why are you always talking about God?" But when friends came to visit, Abhay continued preaching and speaking on Bhagavad-gitä, just as he had done in Jhansi. And as before, his wife and the rest of the family would take tea in a separate room. Prabhupada would later recall, "I wanted as much as possible to get her to work with me in spreading Krsna consciousness, to get her help. But she was very determined. So finally, after thirty years, I could understand she would not be any assistance to me."
Abhay always advised his wife not to drink tea: it was not the practice of a strict Vaisnava family. Finally he said, "You have to choose between me or tea. Either the tea goes or I go." Abhay's wife replied jokingly, "Well, I'll have to give up my husband then."
Then one day she made a serious mistake. She traded her husband's copy of Srimad Bhagavatam for tea biscuits. When Abhay came home and looked for the sacred book, she told him what had happened. Abhay was shocked, and the incident pushed him to leave his family for good. In a mood of stark determination, he left his family and business.
The 1950s proved very difficult years for Abhay. He returned to Jhansi, but he had to leave his building when the governor's wife insisted that it be used for a ladies' club instead of the League of Devotees. Without a place to stay and with no real support, he left Jhansi-but not his plan to start a worldwide association of devotees. After moving to an asrama in Delhi and living for a while with some of his Godbrothers, he was on his own again, a mendicant, staying from week to week in various temples or in the homes of whatever wealthy, pious people would receive him. In terms of food, clothing, and shelter, these were the most difficult times he had ever gone through. Since his childhood he had always had proper food and good clothes, and there had been no question of where he would live. He had been the pet child of his father, and he had received special guidance and affection from Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati. But during the 1950s Abhay was alone.
He spent his time writing and approaching donors, to whom he preached Bhagavad-gita. His goal wasn't to find a permanent residence but to print his transcendental literature and to establish a powerful movement for spreading Krsna consciousness. And for this he needed money. So he was calling on wealthy men in their offices and homes, presenting his manuscripts and explaining his mission. But few responded. And when they did, the donation was usually only five or ten rupees. Eventually, however, he collected enough to again print Back to Godhead.
Lacking money to buy even proper clothes, Abhay went through the chilly Delhi winter without a jacket. He would regularly walk to the printer's to read the latest proofs of Back to Godhead. When the printer asked him why he was intent on producing his newspaper under such hardships, he replied, "It is my mission." He managed to pay the printer small amounts at intervals.
After picking up the copies from the printer, Abhay would walk around the city selling them. He would take a seat at a tea stand, and when someone sat beside him he would ask him to please take a copy of Back to Godhead. Through his articles and editorials, Abhay criticized the materialistic and atheistic tendencies of modern civilization. He also drew on his personal experiences. Responding to the resistance (polite and impolite) that he met while selling Back to Godhead, he wrote an article, "No Time, a Chronic Disease of the Common Man." His writing was never shrill, strident, or fanatical, despite his desperate poverty and the urgency of his message. He wrote expecting to find his reader prepared to hear sound philosophy and willing to accept the truth, especially when presented logically, relevantly, and authoritatively.
In addition to selling Back to Godhead at tea stalls and delivering copies to donors, Abhay also mailed out free copies-both within India and abroad. For years, the vast audience of English-speaking readers outside India had concerned him, and he wanted to reach them. Having gathered addresses of libraries, universities, and cultural and government outlets outside India, he mailed as many Back to Godheads as he could afford. He prepared a letter for his Western readers, suggesting that they should be even more receptive than his countrymen.
On the home front, Abhay sent copies of Back to Godhead to the President of India, Dr. Rajendra Prasad, along with a letter warning him of the perilous fate that awaits a society conducted by the godless,- "Please therefore save them from the great falldown." He requested His Excellency at least to glance over the headlines of the enclosed copies of Back to Godhead and to consider granting the editor an interview, "I am crying alone in the wilderness at the present moment," wrote Abhay. His Excellency never replied.
Even through the heat of the New Delhi summer, when the temperatures rose to 114 degrees, Abhay continued to go out daily to sell his fortnightly publication. Once he suffered heat stroke and reeled in the streets, until a friend picked him up in his car and took him to a doctor. Another time he was gored by a cow and lay for some time unattended by the roadside. At times like this, he sometimes wondered why he had left home and business, and why, since he was now surrendered to Krsna, everything had become so difficult. But years later, when his Krsna consciousness mission was established in many countries with many disciples, he would say, "At the time I couldn't understand. But now I realize all those difficulties were assets. It was all Krsna's mercy."
While keeping up his effort of printing and selling Back to Godhead in Delhi, Abhay decided to take up residence in Vṛndāvana, eighty miles south of New Delhi. Gaudiya Vaisnavas consider Vṛndāvana to be the most sacred spot in the universe, because of Lord Krsna's childhood pastimes there during His incarnation five thousand years ago. The chief followers of Lord Caitanya had gone to Vṛndāvana five-hundred years ago, written books, established temples, and located the places of Krsna's many pastimes in the forests, pastures, and along the riverbanks. Abhay's idea was to write his essays in the peaceful, spiritual atmosphere of Vindavana and commute to Delhi to distribute his literature and seek donations from respectable patrons. He took a simple, very inexpensive room in the Varsi-gopalaji temple, located on the bank of the Yamuna River, and there he entered the special quality of life in Vrndāvana.
Abhay didn't see Vindavana as would an ordinary person. As a pure devotee of Krsna, he felt great bliss simply in walking down a dirt lane or in seeing the Deity forms of Krsna, which appeared on every street, in thousands of temples and homes. From his small rooftop room, he could see the Yamuna flowing before him and extending into a broad curving sheet of river that shimmered in the afternoon sun. In the evening, he enjoyed the cooling breezes from the Yamuna and heard devotees chanting their evening prayers at the Keŝi-ghata. He would hear temple bells ringing throughout the town, and sometimes he would cease from his writing and walk into the busy areas, amidst the residents and pilgrim visitors. He heard the chanting of Hare Krsna everywhere, and many passersby would greet him with the customary "Jaya Radhe!" and "Hare Krsna."
As Vṛndāvana was Krsna's abode, so Abhay was Krsna's servant. In Vrindavana he felt at home. Naturally, he continued to think of preaching, hankering for others to know the intimate peace and ecstasy of Vṛndāvana. Krsna, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, was inviting all souls to join Him in His eternal abode; yet even in India, few understood. And outside India, people knew nothing of Vṛndāvana or of the Yamuna or of what it meant to be free of material desires. Abhay thought, Why shouldn't people all over the world have this? This was the abode of peace, yet no one knew anything of it, nor were people interested. But this was what they were actually hankering for.
Driven by the desire to broadcast the glories of eternal Vṛndāvana, Abhay worked almost constantly in Vṛndāvana to produce each issue of Back to Godhead. Commuting, however, became difficult. He would take the morning train into Delhi and, having nowhere to stay, return to Vrndāvana the same night. That didn't give him much time in the city, and it was expensive. Sometimes a pious gentleman would give him a place to stay, but even with his minimal personal expenses, Abhay had difficulty raising enough donations to cover traveling, printing, and mailing. After producing twelve consecutive fortnightly editions of Back to Godhead, Abhay again ran out of money. The printer said he could not print simply out of friendship. Returning to Vindavana, Abhay continued writing, but with no plan for publication. One day, in a renounced and solitary mood, Abhay composed a Bengali poem, entitled "Vrindavana-bhajana." Its opening stanzas were especially self-reflective and personal.
I am sitting alone in Vrindavana-dhama.
In this mood I am getting many realizations.
I have my wife, sons, daughters, grandsons, everything,
But I have no money, so they are a fruitless glory.
Krsna has shown me the naked form of material nature;
By His strength it has all become tasteless to me today.
Yasyaham anugrhnämi harisye tad-dhanam Sanaih:
"I gradually take away all the wealth of those upon whom I am merciful."
How was I able to understand this mercy of the all-merciful?
2
Everyone has abandoned me, seeing me penniless-
Wife, relatives, friends, brothers, everyone.
This is misery, but it gives me a laugh. I sit alone and laugh.
In this maya-samsara, whom do I really love?
Where have my loving father and mother gone now?
And where are all my elders, who were my own folk?
Who will give me news of them, tell me who?
All that is left of this family life is a list of names.
One night Abhay had a striking dream, the same dream he had had several times before, during his days as a householder. Śrila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati appeared, just as Abhay had known him, the tall, scholarly sannyasi, coming directly from the spiritual world, from Krsna's personal entourage. He called to Abhay and indicated that he should follow. Repeatedly he called and motioned. He was asking Abhay to take sannyasa. Come, he urged, become a sannyasi. Abhay awoke in a state of wonder. He thought of this instruction as another feature of the original instruction Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati had given him at their first meeting in Calcutta, the same instruction that his spiritual master had later solidified in a letter: become an English preacher and spread Krsna consciousness throughout the Western world. Sannyasa was for that end; otherwise, why would his spiritual master have asked him to accept it? In the standard Vedic social system, a man is supposed to leave his family at fifty and become a renounced monk, a sannyasi, and thus dedicate his remaining days to chanting, hearing, and preaching the glories of the Lord. Abhay reasoned that his spiritual master was saying, "Now take sannyasa and you will actually be able to accomplish this mission. Formerly the time was not right."
Abhay deliberated cautiously. By accepting sannyasa, a Vaisnava dedicates his body, mind, and words totally to the service of the Supreme Personality of Godhead, renouncing all other engagements. Abhay was already doing all those things, but he felt that by accepting the sannyasa order, he could solidify his position and gain even more impetus for the great work that still lay ahead. The Vedic standard and the example set by the previous acaryas was that if one wanted to lead a preaching movement, sannyasa was required. At first Abhay had resisted, but now he was reconsidering. He turned to a Godbrother, Kesava Mahārāja, in Mathura, who stressed that Abhay take sannyasa immediately.
In later years Prabhupada would recall, "I was sitting alone in Vindavana, writing. My Godbrother insisted to me, 'Bhaktivedanta Prabhu, you must do it. Without accepting the renounced order of life, nobody can become a preacher.' It was my spiritual master who insisted through this God brother. So, unwillingly, I accepted."
After a formal sannyasa ceremony in Vrndāvana, Abhay's name became Abhay Caranaravinda Bhaktivedanta Swami. Yet his basic problems remained. He wanted to preach Krsna consciousness, but few were willing to listen. Such things hadn't been changed with his becoming a sannyasi.
One change took place, however: Bhaktivedanta Swami decided to write books. When a librarian advised him to write books (they were permanent, whereas newspapers were read once and thrown away). Bhaktivedanta Swami took it that his spiritual master was speaking through this person. Then an Indian Army officer who liked Back to Godhead suggested the same thing. In both cases Bhaktivedanta Swami took the advice as a revelation from his spiritual master.
Bhaktivedanta Swami considered Srimad Bhagavatam, because it was the most important and authoritative Vaisnava scripture. Although Bhagavad-gita was the essence of all Vedic knowledge, presented in a brief ABC fashion, Srimad-Bhagavatam was elaborate. Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati and Bhaktivinoda Thakura had both written Bengali commentaries on the Bhagavatam, In fact, most of the great Vaisnava acaryas of the past had commented on Śrimad- Bhagavatam, "the spotless Vedic scripture." An English translation and commentary for this book could one day change the hearts of the entire world. And if Bhaktivedanta Swami could publish even a few books, his preaching would be enhanced; he could go abroad with confidence and not appear empty-handed.
Bhaktivedanta Swami returned to Delhi with new purpose. The paper and printing capital of India was in the Chandni Chowk section of Old Delhi, and Bhaktivedanta Swami thought it best to somehow locate himself there to regularly negotiate for printing books. Through an old printing contact, he met a temple owner who gave him a free room in his Radha-Krsna temple near Chandni Chowk. The neighborhood was called Chippiwada, a congested, mixed Hindu- Muslim quarter. Now Bhaktivedanta Swami could work either in Vṛndāvana or Delhi. With new enthusiasm, he racked up a few donations and began again publishing Back to Godhead while at the same time beginning his translation and commentary of Srimad Bhagavatam.
He contemplated the size of the project he was attempting. The Bhagavatam contained eighteen thousand verses, in twelve cantos, which he figured would come to at least sixty volumes. He thought he might be able to finish it in five to seven years: "If the Lord keeps me physically fit," he wrote, "then in the fulfillment of Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati's will I could complete this work."
Bhaktivedanta Swami's accepting sannyasa, his idea to write and publish Srimad Bhagavatam, and his desire to preach in the West all were interrelated. To preach, he would have to have books, especially if he were to go to the West. There were millions of books in the West, but nothing like this, nothing to fill the spiritual vacuum in people's lives. He would not merely write, however, but he would personally take the books to the West, present them, and teach people through the books and in person-how to develop pure love of God.
Although he was known as an English preacher, Bhaktivedanta Swami knew his presentation in a foreign language had many technical flaws; and he had no editor to correct them. But such technical faults would not keep him from printing Srimad Bhagavatam. This was an emergency. "When there is fire in the house," he wrote, "the inmates of the house go out for help from the neighbours who may be foreigners to such inmates and yet without adequate language the victims of the fire express themselves, and the neighbours understand the need even though not expressed in adequate language. The same spirit of cooperation is needed in the matter of broadcasting this transcendental message of Srimad-Bhagavatam throughout the whole polluted atmosphere of the present day."
Bhaktivedanta Swami was presenting Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam unchanged, with the greatest respect for Śrila Vyasadeva, the author. And that was Bhaktivedanta Swami's cardinal virtue. Certainly he was adding his own realizations, but not in a spirit of trying to surpass the previous spiritual masters. In the all-important matter of presenting the subject strictly in parampara, Bhaktivedanta Swami suffered from no "faulty and broken technicalities." He knew that without remaining faithful to the disciplic succession, the Bhagavatam purports would not have value.
At his room in the Chippiwada temple, he typed day and night at his desk beneath the small light that dangled on its cord from the ceiling. He sat on a thin mat on the floor, his typewriter before him on a trunk. Pages accumulated, and he kept them in place with stones. Food and sleep were only incidental. He was completely convinced that Srimad Bhagavatam would create a revolution in a misdirected civilization. Thus he translated each word and wrote each purport with exacting care and concentration. But it had to be done as quickly as possible.
Bhaktivedanta Swami had moved his Vrindavana residence to the Rädhä-Damodara temple. Now without even leaving his room, he could look out and see the altar and the four-foot-high form of Vmdavana-candra, the black marble Krsna Deity worshiped hundreds of years ago by Krsnadasa Kavi-raja. This was superior to his room at the Vamsi-gopalaji temple, because now he was living in the temple of Jiva Gosvami, where great souls like the Gosvamis Ropa, Sanatana, Raghunatha, and Jiva had all gathered, taken prasadam, chanted, and discussed Lord Krsna and Lord Caitanya. This was the best place to work on Srimad Bhagavatam.
While staying at the Radha-Damodara temple, Bhaktivedanta Swami would prepare his own meals. And as he sat to take prasādam, he could see through the latticework the samadhi tomb of Rupa Gosvāmi. Feeling Rüpa Gosvami's presence, he would think of his own mission for his spiritual master. Bhaktivedanta Swami's spiritual master and the previous spiritual masters in the disciplic succession had wanted the Krsna consciousness movement to spread all over the world, and as Bhaktivedanta Swami daily gathered inspiration, sitting before Rūpa Gosvāmi's samadhi, he prayed to his spiritual predecessors for guidance. The intimate direction he received from them was an absolute dictation, and no government, no publisher, nor anyone else could shake or diminish it. Rūpa Gosvāmi wanted him to go to the West; Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati wanted him to go to the West; and Krsna had arranged that he be brought to the Radha-Damodara temple to receive Their blessings. At the Radha- Damodara temple, he felt he had entered an eternal residence known only to pure devotees of the Lord. Yet although they were allowing him to associate intimately with them in the place of their pastimes, he felt they were ordering him to leave-to leave Rädhä-Damodara and Vindavana and to deliver the message of the acaryas to forgetful parts of the world.
Writing was only half the battle; the other half was publishing. The publishers, however, were not interested in the sixty-volume Bhagavatam series, and Bhaktivedanta Swami was not interested in anything less. To publish his books, therefore, he would have to solicit donations and publish at his own expense.
A printing contact advised Bhaktivedanta Swami to travel to Gorakhpur and show his manuscript to Hanuman Prasad Poddar, the famous religious publisher. Bhaktivedanta Swami took the five- hundred-mile trip and obtained a donation of four thousand rupees to be used toward the publication of his first volume of Srimad Bhagavatam.
Bhaktivedanta Swami would read and correct the proofs himself, and even as the first volume was being printed, he was still writing the last chapters. When the proofs were ready at O.K. Press, he would pick them up, return to his room at Chippiwada, correct the proofs, and then return them.
In 1962, he was walking daily back and forth between his room and the printers. The neighborhood was a blend of commercial business and tenement life, with children playing in the hazardous street. Bhaktivedanta Swami, a gentle-looking yet determined figure, would walk amidst this milieu. As he moved past the tenements, the tile sellers, the grain sellers, the sweet shops, and the printers, overhead would be electrical wires, pigeons, and the clotheslines from the tenement balconies. Finally he would arrive at O.K. Press, directly across from a small mosque. He would come to deliver the corrected proofs and to anxiously oversee the printing.
When the printing was completed, Bhaktivedanta Swami went out to sell his books, much as he had done with his Back to Godhead newspaper. He soon obtained favorable reviews of the work from Hanuman Prasad Poddar and from the renowned Hindu philosopher Dr. Radhakrishnan. The prestigious Adyar Library Bulletin gave a full review, noting "the editor's vast and deep study of the subject." His scholarly Godbrothers also wrote their appreciations. He even man-aged to secure an order for eighteen copies from the U.S.Embassy, to be distributed in America through the Library of Congress. Institutional sales were brisk, but then sales slowed. As the only agent, Bhaktivedanta Swami was spending hours daily just to sell a few copies. Also, he was entirely responsible for raising funds for the next volume. In the meantime, he continued translating and writing the purports. But at the present rate, with sales so slow, he would not be able to complete the work in his lifetime.
Bhaktivedanta Swami sent copies to leading politicians and received favorable reviews from Sri Biswanath Das, governor of Uttar Pradesh, and Dr. Zakir Hussain, the vice-president of India. He also received a personal interview with Dr. Hussain, and a few months later got the opportunity to meet the Prime Minister, Lal Bahadur Shastri,
This was a formal occasion in the garden of the Parliament Building, where the Prime Minister, surrounded by his aides, received the elderly sadhu. Bhaktivedanta Swami, looking scholarly in his spectacles, stepped forward and introduced himself and his book, Srimad Bhagavatam. As he handed the prime minister a copy of Volume One, a photographer snapped a photo of the author and the prime minister smiling over the book.
The next day, Bhaktivedanta Swami wrote to Prime Minister Shastri. Soon he received a reply, personally signed by the prime minister: Dear Swamiji, Many thanks for your letter. I am indeed grateful to you for presenting a copy of "Srimad Bhagwatam" to me. I do realise that you are doing valuable work. It would be good idea if the libraries in the Government Institutions purchase copies of this book.
Using favorable reviews as advertisements, Bhaktivedanta Swami visited prospective donors as he tried to raise funds for further volumes. Finally, with his manuscript in hand and with money to print it, he again entered the printing world-purchasing paper, correcting proofs, and keeping the printer on schedule so that each book would be finished on time. Thus, by his persistence, he who had almost no money of his own managed to publish his third large hardbound volume within a little more than two years.
At this rate, with his respect in the scholarly world increasing. Bhaktivedanta Swami might soon become a recognized figure amongst his countrymen. But he had his vision set on the West. And with the third volume now printed, he felt he was at last prepared. He was sixty-nine, and he would have to start soon. It had been more than forty years since Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati had first asked a young householder in Calcutta to preach Krsna consciousness in the West. At first the young Abhay Charan had thought it impossible. The obstacle of family responsibilities, however, was now gone, and he was free to travel West, although penniless.
With most difficulties removed, travel fare and certain items of government permission remained as the last serious restrictions. Then, rather suddenly in 1965, the final impediments were removed one after another.
In Vindavana Bhaktivedanta Swami met Mr. Agarwal, a Mathura businessman, and mentioned to him in passing, as he did to almost everyone he met, that he wanted to go to the West. Although Mr. Agarwal had known Bhaktivedanta Swami for only a few minutes, he volunteered to try to get him a sponsor in America by asking his son Gopal, an engineer in Pennsylvania, to send back a sponsorship form. When Mr. Agarwal volunteered to help in this way, Bhaktivedanta Swami urged him to please do so. Bhaktivedanta Swami returned to Delhi, pursuing the usual avenues of bookselling, looking for whatever opportunity might arise. One day, to his surprise, he was contacted by the Ministry of External Affairs and informed that his No Objection certificate for traveling to the U.S. was ready. Since he had not instigated any proceedings for leaving the country, he had to inquire from the ministry about what had happened. They showed him the Statutory Declaration Form signed by Mr. Gopal Agarwal of Butler, Pennsylvania; Mr. Agarwal solemnly declared that he would bear the expenses of Bhaktivedanta Swami during his stay in the U.S.
Now Bhaktivedanta Swami had a sponsor. But he still needed a passport, visa, P-form, and travel fare. The passport was simple. Now, with passport and sponsorship papers, Bhaktivedanta Swami went to Bombay, not to sell books or raise funds for printing, but to seek assistance in getting to America. He approached Sumati Morarji, the head of the Scindia Steamship Line, who had helped him with a large donation for printing Volume Two of Srimad-Bhagavatam. He showed his sponsorship papers to her secretary, Mr. Choksi, who was impressed and went to Mrs. Morarji on his behalf.
"The swami from Vṛndāvana is back," he told her. "He has published his book on your donation. He has a sponsor, and he wants to go to America. He wants you to send him on a Scindia ship." Mrs. Morarji said no, the Swamiji was too old to go to the United States and expect to accomplish anything. Mr. Choksi conveyed to him Mrs. Morarji's words, but Bhaktivedanta Swami listened disapprovingly. She wanted him to stay in India and complete Srimad Bhagavatam. Why go to the United States? she had argued. Finish the job here.
But Bhaktivedanta Swami was fixed on going. He told Mr. Choksi to convince Mrs. Morarji and even coached him on what to say: "I find this gentleman very inspired to go to the States and preach Lord Krsna's message to the people there...." But when Mr. Choksi told Mrs. Morarji she again said no; the Swami was not healthy. Besides, people in America were not so cooperative, and they would probably not listen to him.
Exasperated with Mr. Choksi's ineffectiveness, Bhaktivedanta Swami demanded a personal interview. It was granted, and a gray- haired but determined Bhaktivedanta Swami presented his emphatic request: "Please give me one ticket." Sumati Moraiji was concerned: "Swamiji. You are so old-you are
taking this responsibility. Do you think it is all right?" "No," he reassured her, lifting his hand as if to reassure a doubting
daughter. "It is all right." "But do you know what my secretaries think? They say, 'Swamiji is going to die there.""
Bhaktivedanta Swami made a face as if to dismiss a foolish rumor. Again he insisted that she give him a ticket. "All right," she said. "Get your P-form, and I will make an arrangement to send you by our ship." Bhaktivedanta Swami smiled brilliantly and happily left her offices, past her amazed and skeptical clerks.
Following Mrs. Morarji's instructions, the secretary made final arrangements. Since Bhaktivedanta Swami had no warm clothes, Mr. Choksi took him to buy a wool jacket and other woolen clothes. At Bhaktivedanta Swami's request, Mr. Choksi printed five hundred copies of a small pamphlet containing the eight verses written by Lord Caitanya and an advertisement for Srimad Bhagavatam.
Mrs. Morarji scheduled a place for him on one of her ships, the Jaladuta, which was sailing from Calcutta on August 13. She had made certain that he would travel on a ship whose captain understood the needs of a vegetarian and a brahmana, and she told the Jaladuta's captain, Arun Pandia, to carry extra vegetables and fruits for the Swami. Mr. Choksi spent the last two days with Bhaktivedanta Swami in Bombay picking up the pamphlets at the press, purchasing clothes, and driving him to the station to catch the train for Calcutta.
A few days before the Jaladuta's departure, Bhaktivedanta Swami arrived in Calcutta. Although he had lived much of his life in the city, he now had nowhere to stay. It was as he had written in his "Vindavana-bhajana": "I have my wife, sons, daughters, grandsons, everything, but I have no money, so they are a fruitless glory." Although in this same city he had been so carefully nurtured as a child, those days were gone forever. He stayed with a slight acquaintance and, the day before his departure, traveled to nearby Mayapur to visit the samadhitomb of Śrila Bhaktisiddhanta. Then he returned to Calcutta.
He was ready. He had only a suitcase, an umbrella, and a supply of dry cereal. He didn't know what he would find to eat in America; perhaps there would be only meat. If so, he was prepared to live on boiled potatoes and the cereal which he carried with him. His main baggage, several trunks of his books, was being handled separately by Scindia Cargo. Two hundred three-volume sets the very thought of the books gave him confidence.
When the day came for him to leave, he needed that confidence. He was making a momentous break with his previous life, and he was old. He was going to an unknown and probably unwelcoming country. To be poor and unknown in India was one thing. Even in these Kali- yuga days when India's leaders were rejecting India's culture and imitating the West, it was still India; it was still the remains of the Vedic civilization. He had been able to see millionaires, governors, the prime minister-simply by showing up at their doors and waiting. A sannyasi was respected; Srimad-Bhagavatam was respected.
In America, however, it would be different. He would be no one, a foreigner. And there was no tradition of sadhus, no temples, and no free asramas. But when he thought of the books that he was bringing-transcendental knowledge in English-he became confident. When he met someone in America, he would give him a flyer:" Srimad Bhagwatam,' India's Message of Peace and Goodwill."
It was August 13, just a few days before Janmastami, the appearance day anniversary of Lord Krsna. During these last years, he had been in Vṛndāvana for Janmastami. Many Vrndāvana residents would never leave there; they were old and at peace in Vrndāvana. Bhaktivedanta Swami was also concerned that he might die away from Vrndāvana. That was why all the Vaisnava sadhus and widows had taken vows not to leave, even for Mathura-because to die in Vrindavana was the perfection of life. And the Hindu tradition was that a sannyasi should not cross the ocean and go to the land of the mlecchas. But beyond all that was the desire of Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati, and his desire was non-different from that of Lord Krsna. And Lord Caitanya Mahaprabhu had predicted that the chanting of Hare Krsna would be known in every town and village of the world.
He took a taxi down to the Calcutta port, carrying with him his luggage, an umbrella, and a Bengali copy of Caitanya-caritam/ta, which he intended to read during the crossing. Somehow he would be able to cook on board. Or if not, he would starve-whatever Krsna desired. He checked his essentials: passenger ticket, passport, visa, P-form, sponsor's address. Finally it was happening.
As Prabhupada would often recall later, "With great difficulty I got out of the country! Some way or other by Krsna's grace, I got out so that I could spread the Krsna consciousness movement all over the world. Otherwise, to remain in India-it was not possible. I wanted to start a movement in India, but I was not at all encouraged." The black cargo ship, small and weathered, was moored at dockside, a gangway leading from the dock to the ship's deck. alan merchant sailors curiously eyed the elderly saffron-dressed sadhu as he spoke last words to his companion in the taxi then walked determinedly toward the boat.
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