Brajendranandana: I was a college student at Temple University in 1967. Prabhupada came to visit my college along with a few of his devotees. In those days they used to dance in a circle and chant Hare Krishna and then Prabhupada spoke. I was so non-conscious that I don’t remember a lot of the things he said, but I did remember that he said, “No illicit sex, no gambling, no intoxication and no meat eating.” I was thinking, “This is 1967 and this person is preaching no intoxication, no illicit sex, in the middle of a university campus? He must have integrity. He must not be looking just for money or followers but really presenting something genuine because he was going against the current of the material world and what the young students were into.” So even though I didn’t have an intense experience with Prabhupada, I always carried that feeling of respect that I had from that first meeting.
I had been serving about six months in the temple when Prabhupada came to perform initiations. He usually gave a name that started with the first letter of your name, so I wanted the name Balaram because I was Bob. One devotee after another went up to Prabhupada, and he asked, “What are the four regulations?” Then he would hand the devotees their beads and give them their new names. When it was my turn, I reached for my beads, and Prabhupada pulled them back. I thought, “Oh, boy. He must see something in me that’s not right.” Then somebody whispered in my ear, “Right hand!” I said, “Oh!” I reached for the beads with my right hand and then he gave them to me. My name, however, wasn’t Balaram, but it was the beautiful name of Brajendranandana. I feel very fortunate now to have that name, but at the time I didn’t know anything about its meaning.
We were called “van devotees” because we went around from city to city living in a van distributing Prabhupada’s books. Every night we would listen to a tape of Prabhupada singing in 1969 on the disappearance day of his spiritual master, in a very heartfelt way. Then a letter came from Srila Prabhupada and it was addressed to the sankirtan leaders. Prabhupada wrote, “I’m always thinking of those boys in the vans.” That statement made our listening to the tape at night a whole different experience knowing that he was thinking of us. The thing about Prabhupada was that he had so much majesty even though he sometimes appeared heavy. Srutakirti, Prabhupada’s servant for a number of years, however, told me that he felt that Prabhupada was the kindest person he ever met.
I was in Prabhupada’s room once because we were a party of devotees that were about to go out on traveling sankirtan. As we sat there he was mixing some medicines in a way that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Every little gesture was full of shakti because for us he was coming from the spiritual world, so what he was doing was not an ordinary thing, even a little thing like pouring something into a bottle. At one point a devotee asked him, “Prabhupada, will you come to Chicago?” Prabhupada responded as if he never really heard the question and asked, “Are you convinced about the urgent necessity for Krishna consciousness in your life? Only then can you preach.” That was it. “Are you convinced about the urgent necessity of Krishna consciousness in your life? Only then can you preach.” Upon reflection, it makes perfect sense because unless we are realizing the urgent necessity for ourselves, how can we realize the urgent necessity for someone else when trying to distribute a book? Then someone asked him about selling records. Srila Prabhupada responded, “Don’t sell records. Sell books.” He said, “Somehow or other get them to take a book and to utter the word Krishna.” The last thing I remember in the room that day was when someone asked a question and he responded by saying, “First make them Krishna conscious and then give them the rules and regulations.” Later on I took advantage of that instruction when I ran a gurukula in the 1990s. Our mood with the children was to make it fun and to encourage them to enjoy Krishna consciousness without imposing so many rules and regulations on them. If we wouldn’t follow that instruction, they would become averse to Krishna consciousness. The result was that we created a very successful school.
I remember that Prabhupada was very loving, even though he used to joke sometimes about how we Westerners were so uncultured like monkeys. He loved his monkeys, and he put up with so much of our nonsense in order to help his disciples. What motivated people, who met him only once and were ready to give their lives, was that they felt his love. Sometimes it’s said about great maha bhagavatas that you shouldn’t talk so much about their stories but rather focus on their philosophy and their specialities. But actually, the stories about Prabhupada are a part of his speciality. We weren’t so learned philosophically, but we appreciated his charisma, his humor, and his powerful yet soft nature. One time at the JFK airport in New York, everybody was sitting around Prabhupada as he was about to depart, and the temple president, Rupanuga, came in and yelled out, “The airport officials are complaining that there is too much commotion. So, all the devotees have to leave.” All the devotees got up and started to leave including Srila Prabhupada, and finally Rupanuga said, “Oh, no, no, not you Prabhupada.” But Prabhupada was thinking, “I’m a devotee,” and in his humility thought, “I’ve got to leave.” Like I said, in the beginning we didn’t have all the books, but we had Prabhupada and he captured us completely.
Once in 1975 in Mayapur Prabhupada said, “All of you have come from so many places all over the world. So many laks of dollars have been spent. This is all the mercy of Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu. And then Prabhupada fell silent. You could hear a pin drop for about two minutes. We didn’t know how to react because this was our spiritual master and we know he wasn’t sleeping. We weren’t familiar with the ecstatic symptoms of a pure devotee. Prabhupada remained like that for a short time and then one devotee had the presence of mind to sing, "namah om vishnupadaya," and Prabhupada came out of his trance and said, “Hare Krishna.” Later on, they asked him about his ecstasy and he was very shy about it saying, “It doesn’t happen very often, does it?”
Prabhupada was once explaining that Krishna doesn’t need our offerings of fruits and flowers and bhoga. What He wants is our feelings, and then Prabhupada recited some words, and while he spoke, he started weeping. He said, “I am most fallen and rotten, but I have brought these things for you. Please accept.” He just started weeping and weeping, teaching us the proper mood of worship, the ideal mood of worship.
On a morning walk in Brooklyn, New York, he was talking about the challenges he faced in the first year with no disciples. Then one devotee said, “But you were very determined, Prabhupada.” Prabhupada said, “No.” He said, “This Hare Krishna mantra is very powerful.” What I remembered at that moment was Prabhupada’s arrival prayer, “My dear Lord Krishna, You are so kind upon this useless soul, but I do not know why You have brought me here. Now You can do whatever You like with me, but I guess You have some business; otherwise, why would You bring me to this terrible place?” I was a van leader at the time, and I would have all the devotees in the van say this prayer before they would go out. There is another part of the prayer that says, “I’m just like a puppet in Your hands, so if You have brought me here to dance, then make me dance as You like. I have no knowledge, nor do I have any devotion, but I have a strong faith in the Holy Name of Krishna.” And he signed it, “Your insignificant beggar, A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada.” That prayer always inspired me. Prabhupada was showing us the proper mood of what a preacher is and it is not just some external thing. He is the ideal preacher and that was his mood, total dependence on Krishna trying to be the instrument and feeling oneself very unworthy and unqualified.
What Srila Prabhupada put up with could only be because he was an eternal resident of the spiritual world. He came and lived among the most fallen people in the Lower East side of New York. He cooked for them, cleaned up after them, until gradually some devotees started coming forward to do some service. His willingness to be in a situation with uncultured, but sincere, low-class people, and love them and get them to love him, was only because of his compassion. Very few people could have done what he did.
