Nalini Kanta: My wife and I hitchhiked from the East Coast to Berkeley, because the devotees in Philadelphia had told us about the great Ratha-yatra Festival in San Francisco and that if we went we could meet His Divine Grace. At the time I was a guitar-carrying folk musician who wore a fringe leather jacket. I wrote to Prabhupada regularly, telling him who I was and sending him the lyrics to the songs I was writing. Every few months in Berkeley a letter would come with “His Divine Grace Tridandi Goswami A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami” letterhead. One day such a letter came and all the devotees gathered around. Jayananda, the temple president, opened it while the devotees eagerly asked, “Who’s it for, who’s it for?” Jayananda read it and said, “Oh, it’s for that guy Tom who lives up the block.” I learned from this experience that His Divine Grace did not discriminate. He reciprocated with whoever came to him.
When Srila Prabhupada was staying in his quarters in Los Angeles he was working very hard on his books. Every morning after mangal arati, announcements would be made, “Please don’t bother Srila Prabhupada. Everyone wants to talk to him, but he is very busy. Only GBCs and sannyasis should have Srila Prabhupada’s darshan.” I didn’t accept that philosophy. I made an agreement with Raksana, Prabhupada’s bodyguard, to let me upstairs one night at about 9:30, after all the big guns had met with Prabhupada and left. It was very late, and I was afraid. I was a small temple president with a $50 donation to give Prabhupada. Raksana made sure that everybody was gone. He talked to Srutakirti, and Srutakirti walked me upstairs and into Prabhupada’s room. At that time Prabhupada was standing, looking out the window with his back to the door, chanting japa softly. Srutakirti said, “Prabhupada, your disciple from Phoenix, Arizona, has come here to see you.” Srila Prabhupada turned around slowly. I was shaking in my boots because I was thinking, “Why are you bothering Prabhupada? He is busy, and you’re a nobody in this Society.” But Srila Prabhupada had a radiant smile on his face. The emanation of love from his heart was such that he made me feel like I was his long-lost son who had come back to see him. It was a personal, loving exchange that had nothing to do with fear or “What have you done for me?” or “You’re a big devotee,” or “You’re a small devotee.” It was the spiritual master showing his loving feeling for his disciple. I will never forget that.
