Jaya Gaurasundara: I first met Prabhupada at the temple on 55th Street in New York after months of rigorous construction work. The last engagement I had was finishing up Srila Prabhupada’s sitting room with painting and detail work. We had knocked out three walls and made a large suite out of those several rooms. I can remember the color of the paint, which was a beautiful sky blue. I was exhausted from months of previous work and from the marathon to get bits and pieces tied up for Srila Prabhupada’s arrival. In the midst of working, I felt exhausted, a little dizzy, and I thought, “I’ve got to sit down for a minute on the floor and take a break.” I knew I wouldn’t fall asleep, but I didn’t feel well. I sat down on the floor, and the next thing I knew I was waking up slumped over on the floor to Tamal Krishna Maharaj entering to my right. He was maybe ten feet away, and I clearly remember his nostrils became about dime size, and it looked like there was smoke coming out of his ears like in the cartoons we saw when we were kids. His eyes were like pinwheels. Hari Sauri then came in and said, “What’s the hold-up?” He saw me there shaved up in my bibbed overalls, without a shirt and with paint and plaster all over me. He looked surprised to say the least. Then Srila Prabhupada entered between the two of them. I was mortified. Srila Prabhupada entered without hesitating and walked towards me as I was still on the floor. I didn’t know what to do. I was rather awestruck. I folded my hands and said, “Jaya, Srila Prabhupada.” When I went to pay my obeisances with the floors having just been triple waxed, I slid about two feet with my head right at Prabhupada’s feet. Practically speaking my arms were around his feet. I sheepishly looked up and I felt like a child that had done something wrong. I really felt like an idiot. As I looked up at Srila Prabhupada sheepishly, he had this huge Cheshire cat grin on his face. It looked like he was just going to burst out laughing at any moment. I gradually worked myself back up to my knees with my hands folded when Srila Prabhupada said to me, “Have you done all of this work?” I said, “I’ve done most of it.” He said, “This is very nice. Thank you. Thank you very much.” I picked up my little paint tray, stepladder and brush, and as I was leaving the room, my feet were not touching the floor. I felt as though I glided out of the room. That was my first meeting with Prabhupada. What I remember after all these years is his smile, which was brilliant. My hair is standing up as I recount this memory. It was a very inspirational moment for me to see his cheerful good humor and well wishing. I have always thought, “What a wonderful situation, like our song says, ‘I was asleep before I met him and then I woke up to his radiance.’”
The second of the three good fortunes I had spending some time with Srila Prabhupada personally was in 1975. Even though it was rather difficult in those days for a new kid on the block to be around Prabhupada, I got a chance when Prabhupada went on his inspection tour of the Manhattan temple. Although I had spearheaded construction on the building with Toshan Krishna, I wasn’t invited to go on the initial inspection. However, being familiar with the building as I was, I knew the fire doors that didn’t lock. I waited until Srila Prabhupada and the entourage passed a particular fire door, opened it as quietly as I could, and slipped into the back of the procession. Tamal Krishna was there along with Adi-Keshava, Bhavananda, Sudama, Madhudvisa and maybe Sri Rama. Whoever was anybody at that time was there. Dhrstadyumna Maharaj was also there, and when he saw me sneak in, he said, “Hey, you know you can’t be here. This was by invitation only.” I said, “No, I want to spend time with Srila Prabhupada.” Srila Prabhupada stopped, and he turned around and looked right at us in the back of the procession, and that was it. Boy, we fell right into line like a couple of choirboys and that was the end of it. He just gave us a look. But what followed was curious, and I’m still haunted by it in a way. Tamal Krishna suggested to Srila Prabhupada that we sell the building. Srila Prabhupada pretty much ignored him, and it struck me because I had put so much blood, sweat and tears into working on the building. Then Adi-Keshava said, “And with this money, we can do some other…” I guess he was going to say, “project,” but Srila Prabhupada interrupted him and said, “Stop.” He said, “Do not sell this building. Where will the devotees go? Where will the Deities go? If you sell this building, so many devotees will fall down.” Adi-Keshava attempted to persist and said, “But, Srila Prabhupada...” Srila Prabhupada took his cane and slammed it on the floor and said, “No! No means no!” That was the end of that and we proceeded on with the inspection floor by floor. What I took away from that experience, certainly for me personally and for all of us as Prabhupada’s disciples, was realizing what the consequences are for disobeying a direct order of the spiritual master. What we saw subsequent to selling the building was a tragedy of epic proportions as we witnessed so many disciples fall away from the movement.
After we finished the construction in New York, Srila Prabhupada was on his way out to the farm in Port Royal, Pennsylvania. We called it the Port Royal farm at the time, as it hadn’t yet been named. Srila Prabhupada went out on a Radha-Damodar bus from the New York temple, and I was one of the few devotees that had a car, which was a 1973 Dodge with a 330-horse power engine that I had built. I intended to leave shortly after the Radha-Damodar bus, but when I was at the front door, Adi-Keshava and Bhavananda were there, and they asked, “Where are you going?” I said, “I want to go out to the farm and spend time with Srila Prabhupada.” They said, “You’re supposed to be going out to the Port Authority to do book distribution,” which is what I did when I wasn’t building. I said, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, but I want to go and stay with Srila Prabhupada.” Adi-Keshava responded, “You’re in maya!” I said, “Well, I’ll take my chances. I’m going to go spend time with Srila Prabhupada.” I literally flew out in my Dodge to Port Royal, which was about a five-hour drive from the New York temple. I was barrelling down a mountain in the Poconos when a Pennsylvania Highway State Trooper pulled me over. I was shaved up with tilak on, incense burning, and Prabhupada’s tape on in the car. The trooper came up to my window and said, “Do you realize how fast you were going?” I said, “Oh, I’m sorry.” I said, “I’m trying to beat this bus that is coming out here. My spiritual master is on it and I want to make sure everything is ready for him.” He said, “What are you talking about?” I said, “I’ve got to go. I’ve really got to go.” He said, “Well, just slow down.” He let me go just like that. When I finally arrived at the temple, the president, Paramananda, said to me, “Jaya Gaurasundara, we don’t have a vyasasan for Srila Prabhupada.” I said, “You must be kidding me?” He said, “Well, we don’t, so what can we do?” I sat and thought for a moment and said, “Okay, you go get some cinder blocks and some planks.” I had his wife, Satyabhama, get some fabric and pillows. Long story short, I made this makeshift vyasasan that was slightly garish. Being a finished carpenter and designer in those days, I stood back and thought, “Well, it’s okay. It’s all we’ve got.” Just then the Radha-Damodar bus arrived and Srila Prabhupada came out. We paid our obeisances and had a huge kirtan. But after the kirtan, out from the bus came a beautiful vyasasan with a marble base and crushed velvet with a lotus petal back. I was crestfallen when I saw it coming out, thinking, “Oh, God. He is not going to use the one that I made.” Prabhupada went into the temple room and the devotees with the vyasasan from the bus followed him in quickly. It was a prefab modular object and it was set up quickly for Srila Prabhupada. However, as he walked up to the front of the temple, he went and sat on the big garish makeshift vyasasan that I had put together. I was delighted to say the least. [laughs] I thought, “Why would he choose that one?” But he did. Later that afternoon there was a sequel to this story. Prabhupada wanted to tour the farm. We all piled in Paramananda’s green 1963 or ‘64 International Scout. Paramananda was driving and Srila Prabhupada rode shotgun as the rest of us sat on hay bales in the back. There were no seats, so Visnujana was on one hay bale, Dhrstadyumna Maharaj was on another, and I was behind Srila Prabhupada on the other hay bale. We were touring the farm when we came up to a beautiful meadow with rolling hills and a pasture. Prabhupada put his hand up and said, “Stop, stop here.” Paramananda said, “Srila Prabhupada, what is it?” Prabhupada said, “This looks like the place where Radharani appeared, so we are going to call this farm ‘New Varshana.’” That was how the farm got its name, and if you look at the old Back to Godhead magazines, you will see that name. This was long before it was renamed by Tamal Krishna to “Gita-Nagari” many years later. I don’t know what I take away from that experience except the good fortune of having been there at the time and having a few more minutes of being close to Srila Prabhupada.
Classes for me were my favorite things because they were mesmerizing. But I think even better than classes were the times I had the good fortune of going on morning walks with Prabhupada. I always thought it was interesting how he would observe something while on the walk and turn it into a philosophical point. One morning people were doing tai chi in Central Park in New York. Prabhupada made the comment, “Why are they wasting their time doing this?” Someone said, “They are doing tai chi. It is a martial art they use for self-defense. If they are in danger, you speed up and it becomes kung fu.” Prabhupada said, “Oh, what a waste of time.” He said, “I’ll just bring my gun.” [laughs] That was Prabhupada’s dry wit and humor. He would connect different things he saw on the path and he would incorporate it into a Krishna conscious discourse.
