Chitsukhananda: About five weeks after I had been in the Montreal temple, I wanted to go to Buffalo to get initiated. Nanda Kishor also wanted to go, to get his second initiation. We had no money. We were living in Canada impoverished. Somehow we easily hitch-hiked all the way to Toronto and from there took a bus to Buffalo. The Buffalo temple was in a little house. When we arrived I felt great excitement and anticipation, as well as fear. I was afraid that when I looked into the eyes of this great personality, I would get scared and I would say, “I better get back to work.” I was deathly afraid. Finally a car pulled up, and there for the first time I saw Srila Prabhupada. Nanda Kishor and I fell at his feet as he crossed the street. He put his hand on my head and on Nanda Kishor’s head, and he walked into the temple.
After that we were ecstatic, and all my fears seemed to be dissipating. Prabhupada’s presence wasn’t at all what I had imagined. He was very sweet, gentle, kind, and very strong. Of course, there were also other aspects to his personality, like his sternness, his severity, his austerity, his dedication to Krishna, and his heaviness as a guru. But I wasn’t afraid anymore. The initiation was scheduled for that Saturday, the 19th of April, 1969. They told me, “You can go see Srila Prabhupada. He is in his apartment.” He was staying in Rupanuga’s apartment. Nanda Kishor and I went, and Nanda Kishor introduced me to Prabhupada. “This is Charles.” He said, “Oh very nice. Do you like this Movement?” I said, “Yes, I like it very much.” He said, “You are happy?” I said, “Yes. I am very happy that I met this movement. Thank you, Prabhupada. And I am very happy to meet you.” He said, “Oh, thank you.” He was very humble, sweet, and kind. He was like an old, lost relative, a grandfather or grandsire from the ages. I didn’t feel strange in his presence. I felt very comfortable. All my fears disappeared completely. I sat with him, and I felt happy and peaceful. I had a guitar with me, and he asked me if I would sing, so I chanted Hare Krishna. Throughout the years, even when we opened a temple in Mexico, we would play guitars in kirtan in Prabhupada’s presence. He would say, “Yes, yes, more. This is what’s making people dance and chant. Use it for Krishna.” It’s nice to hear the sitar and tambura, but it’s also nice for people to play the instruments of their own nation to worship God, and Srila Prabhupada was open-minded about that. There are no hard and fast rules for chanting. He tried to accommodate everyone.
When I was in Vancouver I wrote to Prabhupada, “After living as a brahmachari for so many months, I think that it’s best if I get married.” In his reply Srila Prabhupada instructed me. He wrote, “It’s nice that you have taken to Krishna consciousness. You want to get married? I am not against that. We want to have nice devotee marriages and devotee children. It’s wonderful. But one thing is that you must marry a girl from our Society. Make sure she is a devotee. Otherwise, if you marry someone who is not a devotee, your life will not be happy, because non-devotees don’t understand. When you come to Ratha-yatra, we will discuss this personally.” Even though I thought Srila Prabhupada had not remembered me from Buffalo, in fact he had never forgotten me.
I thought Prabhupada had forgotten me because he didn’t mention anything at Ratha-yatra. In the back of my mind I also thought that there were more important things to think about at Ratha-yatra than one’s own arrangements. Later, I went to Los Angeles, and one day, when the whole temple was filled with devotees enjoying the Sunday feast, all of a sudden someone came in and said, “Chitsukhananda?” “Yes?” “Prabhupada wants to see you.” I said, “Me?” All the devotees were stunned, “Who is this little, new devotee that Prabhupada has invited?” I washed my hands and mouth and ran into his room. I said, “Yes, Srila Prabhupada?” He said, “Oh, remember you wrote me a letter discussing marriage? I have found one girl for you.” I said, “Oh?” He said, “But there will be many obstacles for you. It will be difficult. You must learn to tolerate.” I said, “Who is this girl, Srila Prabhupada?” He said, “Chandravali.” I had heard about her and had seen a little bit of her. Prabhupada saw my eyes roll. I said, “Oh, Oh.” Tamal Krishna was sitting next to Prabhupada, and they began to laugh, and I got more bewildered as they laughed harder. I didn’t know what was going on. I knew that Chandravali was rebellious. She used to go into Prabhupada’s room and discuss with him how women should be given more attention, which I am also in favor of. We want rights for everyone. That’s what this Movement’s all about. Anyway, Prabhupada said, “Yes, call her and I will marry you here.” I said, “Yes, Prabhupada, I accept.” Enthusiastically I called her on the phone and said, “Hello. Is Chandravali there?” She said, “Yes, who is this?” I said, “This is Chitsukhananda. I am a sankirtan devotee from Berkeley. Srila Prabhupada wants us to get married, and he will make the arrangements.” She said, “Yuk! Marry you?” I said, “What? Prabhupada—” I never heard of anyone saying no to Prabhupada. She said, “Oh, no.” I heard the phone hang up, and I thought, “Oh, my goodness.” I was too embarrassed to go back to Prabhupada, but I told his servant, “She doesn’t want to marry me.” Prabhupada heard about it, and he said, “Hmm . . . that’s okay.”
Jacobo Zabludovsky, a nice Jewish man, was Mexico’s number one emcee newscaster and respected throughout the world. I had been on his show, and I had explained, “Our mission is to bring happiness to the Mexican people. They are very joyful people, but we have come to give them even more happiness by the grace of my spiritual master.” I showed a picture of Srila Prabhupada, and before I left, I asked Mr. Zabludovsky, “When my spiritual master comes to Mexico, please let him come on the show.” He said, “Fair enough. He can come.” I arrived in Mexico June 2nd, 1970, and Prabhupada arrived June 1st, 1971. He had planned to stay five or six days, and I had programs and a whole itinerary of activities scheduled for those days. The first engagement was at the Masonic temple in Mexico City. Prabhupada was cordial, beautiful, and as kind as ever. People wanted his autograph or were melting away in his presence. Everywhere we went it was like that. One night around 9:30 or 10:00, I asked Srila Prabhupada, “Are you very tired?” He said, “No.” I said, “You have been preaching all day and fasting. Basically you just took a little fruit today. Srila Prabhupada, I don’t want to take advantage of you and your presence here, but there is an opportunity to go to the television station tonight with Mr. Zabludovsky. He has a very important program that millions and millions—” He said, “Millions watch? How many millions?” I said, “Many millions, Prabhupada. Twenty million, thirty . . . I don’t know. Many millions.” He said, “Oh, then we must go.” “Prabhupada, it is very late. I feel bad even to have mentioned it. I am taking advantage of your health.” He didn’t care for his health. He came to give everything. I said, “Srila Prabhupada, it’s very late at night.” He said, “So what? We work tonight and sleep tomorrow.” He said it just like that, “Work tonight, and sleep tomorrow.” “Okay, let’s go.” Sure enough, after we had waited a little while they presented Srila Prabhupada on the show. We got a bit too ecstatic and brought his big, marble vyasasana and put it on the stage. They are accustomed to popes and bishops, so why not Swami Prabhupada on the beautiful chair? We sat around him. Jacobo asked, “You have come to our country, what is your message?” Prabhupada said, “Mine is a message of joy for all countries. Everybody should be peaceful and happy, and not be misled.” Jacobo said, “How can they do that?” He said, “The main thing is to be in harmony with God. By chanting you will find that harmony.” He gave many nice instructions and then we chanted. Afterwards I went to thank Mr. Zabludovsky, but his head was in his hands and he was noticeably shaken by Prabhupada’s association. I said, “Thank you very much.” His mood was sober and quiet. He said, “No. Thank you” and we left.
Wherever Prabhupada went, I would also go along and stay near him. He would look at me and say, “There is my little puppy,” but he didn’t seem to mind me being there. Once I was eating mangoes with Shyamasundar, and I was in ecstasy watching Prabhupada eat fruit. He said, “If we just eat fruit, we can never overeat.” So we were eating our mangoes, but I was inexperienced in the way in which mangoes should be eaten. They shouldn’t be eaten over your dhoti so that the juice drips all over you. Shyamasundar said, “Chitsukhananda, look at you. You are getting the mango all over you.” Prabhupada immediately corrected him. He said, “He is simply enjoying. Let him enjoy. Just let him enjoy.” I said, “Thank you.” And I got juice all over my face and dhoti, but I enjoyed it.
The next morning we got up around quarter to six, just before sunrise, and Prabhupada came into the little temple room in that rustic house. When Srila Prabhupada realized that we had arisen late he was very serious, almost angry. He began the class without revealing his mind, but we could tell that something was wrong. Shyamasundar made some mistakes reading the Sanskrit, and Prabhupada said, “You are traveling with me for so many months, and you do not know these verses?” Towards the end of the lecture Prabhupada said, “Why are you getting up late? I know you are traveling and that you are tired. But you must be up in the morning no matter what. You can rest later but you must be up in the morning.” Then he said, “Chitsukhananda, is this getting up at six in the morning going on in your temple?” I said, “No. Srila Prabhupada.” He said, “Hmm. You must be very careful. You may travel, but you must rise and chant no matter what.” We all felt bad, especially me since I was the primary host in these places. I thought, “We have had five days of ecstasy, but now we are getting the nectar of a little chastisement.” Then I thought, “Oh, my God. Now that he is unhappy and has seen how fallen we are, maybe I have ruined his trip.” After the class he went outside to go to his quarters, and I ran behind him. As I went I picked some jasmine flowers to offer to him. I said, “Srila Prabhupada, please take these flowers.” He turned to me and said, “Thank you,” and smiled brightly. I said, “Srila Prabhupada, your appearance like an angry lion has gone.” He said, “I am never angry with any of you.” This was after we had felt his thunderbolts for an hour. He said, “When you fall from the path, my duty is to put you back on. That’s all. Otherwise there is no anger.” I said, “Thank you, Prabhupada.” His anger is displayed only for the care of the child, just as a parent may say, “Don’t do that,” so Prabhupada was the same way with us. We were his young children.
In tropical places like Mexico, it rains very beautifully and hard in the afternoons, and then the sun sets. Srila Prabhupada was on a plateau watching the sunset, and I was sitting next to him like a little puppy. Mosquitoes were starting to buzz around a bit. I thought, “Oh, no. They are going to bite Prabhupada.” I said, “Srila Prabhupada, are the mosquitoes biting you?” He looked at me and said, “No.” I thought of something very wise to say. “Srila Prabhupada, it must be because you are a pure devotee and therefore they respect you. I am impure so they are biting me. They know the difference.” He said, “But in Calcutta they make no distinction.” Gurudas told me the other part of the story. One evening in the Calcutta temple, Prabhupada had begun to lecture from his vyasasana, when all of a sudden mosquitoes started flying and buzzing and creating a commotion. Prabhupada was so bothered that he got off the vyasasana and sat with the devotees. He said, “Just see, they have dethroned me.” So the Calcutta mosquitoes were renegades, and the Mexican mosquitoes were respectful. They didn’t bite him.
When I went to Trinidad to help reopen the temple, I sometimes gave lectures to groups of Hindus. One morning I gave a small talk at a Hindu society, Sanatan Dharma Mahasabha. Afterwards a Mr. Riki said to me, “Your guru is A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami?” I said, “Yes. Do you know him?” He said, “He was writing to me some time ago,” and he showed me a letter Prabhupada had written to him in 1964 or ’65, before Prabhupada came to America. Prabhupada had written about going to Trinidad since it had many Hindus, and Mr. Riki had responded on behalf of his Hindu society. The next time I went to Los Angeles, I spent some time with Prabhupada, and I said, “Srila Prabhupada, when I went to Trinidad, I saw a letter you wrote before you came to America. Were you going to go to Trinidad first?” Prabhupada smiled and said, “Yes. I was ready to go there but the people in the Sanatan Dharma Mahasabha society were telling me what I would have to do, how I would have to preach, how I would have to do this, and how I would have to do that. So, that I could not do.” They were trying to control him. He said, “No, no. I will not let them run my life. I will preach the way I want to preach and serve Krishna the way I see fit.”
I was in India when Srila Prabhupada was collecting money for the Vrindavan and Mayapur projects. At that time I was not doing much preaching, and I thought, “I’m going to get a little money together and start a farm with my family, and maybe it will become successful.” Prabhupada told me, “You really want to start a farm? Very nice. You can take this sannyasi, Chayavana, with you. He can work under you.” Prabhupada never thought that, “This is a grihastha and a sannyasi cannot work under him.” No. He would always make arrangements according to time, place, and circumstance. I wanted to help, and since at that time I couldn’t help by making devotees or opening temples, I could send some money. I said, “Prabhupada, when I make money from my project, I am going to send it to you.” He said, “No. You keep the money. I don’t want your money. I want you to have your money. I know you will employ it for Krishna’s service.” Not that, “I want you to employ it.” He said, “I know wherever you go, you will try to employ this money for Krishna.”
I arrived twelve days before Prabhupada left the planet. When I came into his room the devotees said, “Chitsukhananda is here.” Prabhupada smiled and said, “Oh. Thank you for coming.” Even then he was totally attentive. I was able to be with him during his last few days. It was very wonderful. I hated to see him in that condition, but he was so clean and pure. His mind was centered on Krishna and clear. There was never any question of senility, of being an old person, or of being very ill. It was not because I was his disciple that I saw this, but because it’s the truth. Anyone, who reads what he wrote and hears what he spoke at that time will also see that his mind was perfectly clear.
