Upendra: From 1967 I was searching. One day I saw a leaflet that looked like a letter blowing in the wind, and I picked it up, thinking that I was going to read someone’s mail. It was a “Stay High Forever” leaflet. It said something about, “Drop in, turn on, and drop out. Swami A. C. Bhaktivedanta.” I thought, “Oh, a swami.” I pictured Prabhupada with long hair and a beard. But when I went to the temple at 518 Frederick St. and saw Prabhupada’s passport picture in the temple window, I was aghast. He didn’t look the way I thought a swami should look. He looked severe. I was scared. Later I heard that when someone said to Prabhupada that he didn’t look happy in that photograph Prabhupada said, “That was the most ecstatic moment in my life. It was my passport photo as I was fulfilling Srila Bhaktisiddhanta’s instruction to travel to the English-speaking world and preach.”
After a lecture I asked Srila Prabhupada if one could practice hatha yoga. He looked at me and said, “Hatha yoga. Why?” He was serious and severe, and I felt very small. Then he said, “We’re bhakti yogis.” He also said something else, I don’t remember exactly what, but it made me feel wonderful. I kept going to his classes and kirtans every day. I couldn’t get the mantra out of mind. Within a week or two I was about to get initiated, and I was scared. I forgot my name during the initiation. I had to go upstairs and ask what my name was. At that time you’re supposed to give nice dakshin to your spiritual master, but I gave Prabhupada some useless things that I was sentimentally attached to, like a baby blanket. He said, “These things you have given are useless.” I felt bad again. But the next day he used them for sitting places for visitors. So again I felt better. Then Prabhupada learned that I was living with a young woman. He said, “That’s not good. You come live with me.” I guess that’s how I started being his personal servant, but in those days he didn’t need much. He was cooking. Devotees conveniently found a way to be in his room about lunchtime, because whoever was there received a chapati with some subji on it. It was the most delicious foodstuffs we had ever tasted.
In one of his lectures he said that before marriage the man and woman don’t meet. I said, “Well, if marriages are arranged, then how do you love the woman before you get married? He said, “Love? Love is for Krishna.” Then he walked to the window, looked down toward the street, and said, “You want a woman? Pick one.” I said, “No, Srila Prabhupada.”
On one occasion in Bombay, a well-to-do and notable person came to see Prabhupada during his massage and brought an expert masseur with him. Prabhupada let the masseur try massaging him. The man’s hands were incredible. He moved Prabhupada’s body better than a machine could. Before long, however, Prabhupada said, “That’s all right,” and then I took over massaging again. Prabhupada said, “I’d rather my disciples massage me. There is no necessity of expert massage. I want the love of my disciples.” So the massage helped his health, but more important than the technique was the love that we had in our hands.
Before coming to Krishna consciousness I was arrested for possessing marijuana. I pleaded guilty, and eventually it was time for my arraignment. Jayananda brought me to court, and the judge sentenced me to three months in jail. I must have turned white when the guards came to get me. The judge said, “Do you want some time before you turn yourself in?” I said, “Yes Your Honor.” The judge gave me some time, and I flew to Prabhupada in L.A. and told him I had to go to jail. I had a few ecstatic days with him. He told me that if I found myself starving in jail, I could eat meat. As it turned out, I didn’t have to eat meat at all. The other prisoners were glad to exchange their vegetables for my meat. Anyway, it came time for me to go to jail, and I was frightened. Prabhupada was sitting on his asana with his legs extended. I took the opportunity to prostrate myself before him, grab his feet and put them on my head. I embraced them, and he leaned forward and tousled my head. He said, “Don’t worry, Krishna will let you out after a few days.” And Krishna did that. It was horrible in jail. I called the jail ahead of time and told them that I was a devotee and I wanted my religious rights. They let me keep my neck beads, but they put me in the shower to delouse me, and big prisoners towered over me. I was scared. But in a few days I was called before the judge, and the judge said, “You’re pious, you don’t have to stay.” It was just as Prabhupada had said it would be. By Prabhupada’s compassion, Krishna interceded on my behalf.
Once in San Francisco Prabhupada was trying to translate, when there was some noise in his apartment. He wanted that noise stopped. The problem was that we couldn’t hear any noise. It was quiet. A few devotees tried to hear the noise. Prabhupada said, “You don’t hear it?” We said, “No.” We looked for a dripping faucet. We listened to the pipes. Then I found a heater in the hallway with a flickering pilot light, so I turned the gas off completely, and from his room Prabhupada said, “That’s it.” He was very sensitive. When he heard a door slam, he said it broke his heart. It broke his heart to hear a door slam. As Westerners we would slam doors regularly, but we learned not do that around Prabhupada.
We were helping Prabhupada take a bath in the bathroom, when he became unconscious. We were beside ourselves. We picked him up, and he became conscious. We said, “Srila Prabhupada, you were unconscious! He said, “No, I was not unconscious.” Then he began recollecting stories of America. He had such appreciation and thankfulness for the American spirit that I saw some tears come. Then he looked at us and said, “I am thankful to Krishna for His kindness in sending so many nice girls and boys to me. I simply tried to please my spiritual master, and everything has come by his grace and by the grace of Krishna.”
I was getting ready while Prabhupada was taking prasadam. He called me, “Upendra?” I said, “Yes, Srila Prabhupada.” He said, “Reach in my pocket and take out the money there.” I reached in, and there were two ten-dollar bills. Prabhupada said, “Give one to your son and the other to your daughter.” I said, “Srila Prabhupada, I cannot take from my spiritual master.” He said, “I am not their spiritual master; I am your spiritual master, and I’m telling you to give this money to your children.” Later, in Laguna Beach, my children wandered into Prabhupada’s room, and Prabhupada called them over and gave them some coins. He loved children.
I spoke to him about masturbation. I was so ashamed, but I talked to Prabhupada. Instead of chastising me or being disgusted with me, he said, “We are all accustomed to such nasty habits.” His way of saying it made the problem seem small. He made me feel like I had the strength to overcome it. Prabhupada once asked Gargamuni, “Do you have sex desire?” Instead of saying “No,” Gargamuni said, “Yes.” Prabhupada said, “What do you do?” Gargamuni said, “I tolerate it.” Prabhupada said, “Yes, just tolerate.”
You have to get a massage to learn how to massage. So, when Prabhupada wanted me to massage him with a specific movement, he’d massage me that way, and then I’d massage him. He would never lay down for massage, as perhaps it’s more satvik to sit. I’d start with his feet and work up to his stomach, his back and arms, and then finally his head. His head took the longest and was the easiest, too. The massage took a lot of energy. Prabhupada could take a strong massage. I think his daily massage and walk started ardently after his heart attack in New York. He could out-walk some of us on the beach. We’d get tuckered out, but he kept on going.
