Hridayananda Goswami: Srila Prabhupada brought me to Krishna consciousness in 1969. I had seen the devotees on the street in Berkeley, andI’d seen the Hare Krishna festival in the Berkeley Hills. I’d given donations,bought magazines, taken prasadam, and so on, but it was when I heard Prabhupada give a lecture in the International House at the University of California atBerkeley that I really became fixed on Krishna consciousness. For a sociology/religion class I had to go and observe different religious performances and ceremonies. I had gone to see a so-called swami who seemed like he wasn’t saying anything practical or substantial but only telling peoplehow to relax. Just as Prabhupada said that he was reluctant to see his spiritualmaster because he had seen so many so-called sadhus, so in a little way there is some similarity. As soon as Prabhupada entered the auditorium, I could see that this person was very different—his gravity, his power, his demeanor. He came in practically like a military commander, not in the sense of a violent person but in thesense of his authority. I could see that here was a person who was filled with authority and yet serene at the same time. The program started, the devotees began to chant, and Prabhupada got off the vyasasana and began dancing and jumping in ecstasy. To see this holy person, so filled with authority, over 70 years old, dancing in ecstasy, was overwhelming.
When I was initiated in Los Angeles, I got a little piece of paper with my name on it, “Hridayananda.” For some reason I thought that someone had left out the “a” and that my name was actually “Haridayananda.” When people said, “What’s your name?” I said, “Haridayananda”. It sounded like a perfectly good, Krishna conscious name. No one ever questioned me. No one ever said, “That doesn’t sound like a bonafide name.” For the first several months after I was initiated, I was Haridayananda. In fact, there’s an old Back to Godhead article by Haridayananda das Brahmachari. Anyway, I wrote Prabhupada a letter about a year after my initiation, and I signed it “Haridayananda.” Prabhupada wrote back saying, “Dear Hridayananda, please accept my blessings. By the way, your name is Hridayananda.” I thought, “How in the world would Prabhupada remember who I am?” I had no real importance within the structure of ISKCON, as I was just a young member. I was amazed that Prabhupada remembered who I was.
Karandhar and I were in Prabhupada’s room in the early seventies. It was a beautiful afternoon, a breeze was blowing, the sun was setting and golden rays were shining on Prabhupada. It was a sublime atmosphere. Prabhupada began to talk about India at the turn of the century. He explained how people used to work, the relationships between the householders and their servants, and how people used to cook. He took us back to his early childhood when he was having Ratha-yatra and worshipping Radha-Govinda. Then he looked at us very strongly and said, “Whatever I am doing now I was doing then. Do you understand?” We were speechless. Prabhupada said, “Never was there a time when I did not know Krishna. Do you understand?” He said it in such a way that it was clearly the case. That was a very powerful experience.
We brought Miss Mexico to see Srila Prabhupada. In those days we were young and brought any celebrity to Prabhupada. Miss Mexico spent her year doing events, smiling, saying a few nice words and getting her picture taken. She was more or less in that mood. She sat in front of Prabhupada and made her customary spiel, saying in Spanish that it was very nice being Miss Mexico and fluttering her eyelashes. I was translating. She said, “I am very glad to be here. I have enjoyed the program very much and I hope to come again sometime.” Prabhupada said to her, “Why do you want to come again?” He was not at all concerned with the glamour of it. He was very sober. She couldn’t really answer. No one asks questions like that to Miss Mexico. He asked her very seriously, “Why do you want to come? Have you read my books?” She said, “No.” He said, “Then why do you want to come? Why do you say you want to come again?” So she was caught without an answer, and at that point she stopped being Miss Mexico and just started being a soul.
At the end of July in 1971, Prabhupada came to Gainesville, Florida. He sat on the vyasasana that we had made for him, gave a beautiful lecture, and then took questions. There was a young girl there, and in a somewhat challenging tone she said to Prabhupada, “I see that you have mostly young people here. Why is that?” Prabhupada immediately shot back, “Why do you have mostly young people in your university?” She was so caught off guard that she dropped her pencil. She stuttered and said, “Well, that’s the age for education.” He said, “Yes, therefore that is the age for Krishna consciousness.” A few days before I took sannyas, a reporter was interviewing Prabhupada in his quarters in L.A. This reporter knew something about Hinduism. He said, “Well, isn’t it old people that take sannyas in India? Why are you giving sannyas to young people?” Prabhupada shot back, “What does it mean to be old?” The man had no answer. Prabhupada said, “Old means about to die. Can you say that I am older than you? Can you say that you are not going to die before me?” He couldn’t answer that. Prabhupada said, “Therefore, we are giving them sannyas.”
Often I would enter Prabhupada’s room in a serious mood, and he would sometimes joke with me. Once I went into his room with that serious mood, and he looked at me with mock seriousness, “Yes, what is your message?” Another time I was on a college preaching tour, and I went into his room in New York when he was finishing his breakfast. He was in a jolly mood. He said, “Oh! Hridayananda Maharaj, you are traveling and preaching. I am just here eating.” He was pleased with the college preaching tour, and we talked about it for a while. He gave me a little attention, so I was feeling very happy. “Prabhupada likes my program.” But the next day I went into Prabhupada’s room thinking, “Well here I am, the college preacher.” I sat in front of Prabhupada, and he didn’t speak to me. He was doing his business. But there was an innocent young brahmacharini there who was changing Prabhupada’s flower vases with devotion. Prabhupada was very pleased with her. He was smiling like a loving grandfather. He said, “Thank you very much. What is your name?” So that day Prabhupada didn’t have a word for me, but he was very pleased with the devotion of this young girl. I was a sannyasi, and she was just some innocent girl. But she’s the one that pleased Prabhupada, because I was thinking, “I am a sannyasi,” and she was an innocent girl serving with great devotion. I never forgot that lesson.
A young sannyasi is in a precarious position. He has to be very serious about Krishna consciousness. So I was trying very hard to be a good sannyasi, to be Krishna conscious. Then I realized that I was not really Krishna conscious enough, that Prabhupada deserved to be served much better than I felt I was serving him. I was in that mood, a little unhappy, a few months after I had taken sannyas. I thought, “I better eat less.” So I was trying to eat very little for a few days. Every day in New Dwaraka Prabhupada would walk down the stairs on his way to his garden, stop by the little sannyas room, peek in the door, walk in, look around, walk out, and keep going. That was the signal, and I would immediately jump up, offer obeisances, and run after him. I was trying not to impose on Prabhupada, but every day he would come and get me in that way. So one day we were coming back from the garden, and near the stairway to his quarters, on top of a radiator, there was a paper plate with a big mound of leftover potato or rice prasadam. Prabhupada stopped, put his cane down, looked at it, turned to me, and said, “Eat that.” (so much for my austerities.) I immediately offered obeisances, took the plate, and ate the prasadam. I was in Prabhupada’s room once when Jadurani came in. Her health was not good, and she told Prabhupada that she wanted to fast. Prabhupada told her, “Don’t fast completely. It’s not good to fast completely. At least take fruit.”
Prabhupada said that you should eat what you can digest. He told me, “If you eat what you like, it will be good for you.”
My mother was never favorable to the Movement, but she was polite and respectful to me and always thinking, “How to get him out of this thing?” I told her to see Srila Prabhupada. When she sat down in front of Prabhupada she transformed. She became like a young girl. Prabhupada told her how fortunate she was to have a son who was a devotee of Krishna. She nodded in agreement. Ever since I had joined she was unfavorable, but in Prabhupada’s presence she was overwhelmed and gladly nodded in agreement. After a few minutes she went downstairs and for the first time she opened her purse and said, “Can I give you something for your Movement?”
We were desperately trying to get the first Spanish Bhagavatam, which was being printed in America, to Caracas in time to give to Prabhupada while he was there. There were a few glitches, and the book was late. We were disappointed. Finally, by frantic negotiations with the printer, we arranged for the book to be rushed by air-freight to Caracas. It arrived the same morning Prabhupada was leaving. Some of the leaders in Venezuela were desperately trying to get it out of customs, but South America is not the easiest place to do such things. Meanwhile, Prabhupada went to the airport, and we checked him in. To my great dismay the book hadn’t come. Prabhupada went through the immigration check, passport check, and left for the “Passengers Only” waiting lounge. We paid our obeisances, and suddenly the book came. I became inspired to give this first Spanish Bhagavatam to Prabhupada. I went running through the airport. You can’t run through the police check in any country, and certainly not in a South American country. But I was inspired. Somehow Krishna arranged everything. I ran right past the passport check. No one said a word to me despite my shaved head and danda. I ran right past all the checkpoints where you have to show this and show that, and no one said a word to me. I ran right into the international waiting lounge, offered obeisances, and Prabhupada had me sit next to him. I gave him the Bhagavatam. Prabhupada was very pleased. He looked at it, and then he wanted to check if it was bonafide. He said, “Can you translate?” “Yes, Prabhupada,” I said. He said, “All right,” opened it to the preface and said, “Read this in English.” I read it in English and Prabhupada saw that it was correct. It was bona fide. He was very happy. Then they called him for his flight. He walked off holding the Bhagavatam.
We were flying to Los Angeles to see Prabhupada and give him the first Portuguese Bhagavatam, but we arrived at the airport late. The flight had already boarded. We were determined, “How to get this Bhagavatam to Prabhupada?” The airline people said, “I am sorry, the flight is closed.” Mahavir grabbed the walkie-talkie from the lady at the counter and said, “Hold that flight.” They held the flight, and we ran on. When Prabhupada arrived the next morning in Los Angeles, we met him. I was eager to give him this Portuguese Bhagavatam because it pleased him so much. It would always please him to receive these books. I couldn’t wait until he went to his room. I handed him the Bhagavatam as he got off the vyasasana. Finally, when we went to his room, he looked at me and said, “This is your most important service: printing and distributing books.” When he said those words it went deep into my heart. It was a very important moment. I was the GBC of all of Latin American. We had so many projects going on and yet, when I would see Prabhupada, his first question would always be, “So, how is sankirtan? How many books are being distributed?”
