Agnideva: I was living in Brooklyn and going to the temple on Henry Street every
week for the love feasts. I loved the food and the kirtans, and I also heard some
philosophy that made sense. After a few months, I came to one Sunday feast when the
devotees told me, “Prabhupada is coming,” although I didn’t know who Prabhupada
was. Everyone was always saying, “Prabhupada said this...” “Prabhupada said that...”
Regarding every facet of life, they responded, “Prabhupada said...” [laughs] Anyway, he
was on his way to the temple, so I thought, “Well, I’ll at least get a chance to see and
hear him for myself.”
When Prabhupada arrived, I went in the temple room and I sat close to the
vyasasana to have a ringside seat. I thought, “I am going to sit there and nobody is
going to move me so I can catch every word.” When I left the temple that night, all I
could think was, “I’m going to have to join.” [chuckles] All the reasons why I wasn’t
going to join weren’t so important any longer. Rising early and shaved heads and all this
external stuff were reasons why I was thinking I wouldn’t join. But when I heard
Prabhupada, I was convinced that I’ll probably never meet anyone like him again. My
assessment of him was that he was the real deal. He was so pure, so knowledgeable, and
he was the complete package. Not only did he have so much wisdom, but he also had a
sense of humor.
During one lecture, Srila Prabhupada was explaining what is a first-class
man, second-class, third-class, and a fourth-class man. I had never heard anyone before
describe the divisions of man in that way. Prabhupada mentioned he was trying to train
up first-class men. He described all the good qualities of a brahman and it made you
want to come up to those standards. So, the first person I told that I was moving into the
temple was my mother. She never objected when I would visit on Sundays, but now
when I said I was going to quit my job and join the temple full time, she started crying. I looked at her and said, “Ma, you’re crying at the wrong time.” She said, “What do you
mean?” I said, “Before I met the devotees, I was doing all nonsense and you know I was
doing nonsense.” I was drinking, smoking marijuana and whatever else young people
were doing at that time in New York. I said, “You know I was doing all nonsense and you
never cried. Now I’m getting my stuff together and now you’re crying?” I said, “You’re crying at the wrong time.” When I said it like that, she stopped crying and she couldn’t
argue with it.
My mom later came around to actually become proud that I was a devotee. If
anybody at her church said anything bad about the Hare Krishnas, she would straighten
them out and say, “You don’t know what you’re talking about. My son is a devotee.”
They would all say, “Oh, okay.”
But I think, apart from the philosophy, it was Prabhupada’s singing that was the
biggest attraction for me. He transported me to his world with such feeling when he
chanted and sang, Jaya Radha-Madhava. I never grew tired of hearing him sing that
prayer, which he said contains the whole spiritual world by glorifying Radha and
Krishna, the gopis, the Yamuna, the Brijbasis, Govardhan, the cowherd boys,
everything. I have not heard anyone sing like him in all the years I have been a devotee.
When Srila Prabhupada came to the New York temple again, the temple
president made the announcement, “Prabhupada’s coming tomorrow and we are all
going to the airport to meet him.” After he made that announcement, he motioned for
me to come over, and he told me, “Everyone’s going to the airport to meet Prabhupada,
except you.” I thought, “How could you? [laughs] Why me?” He said, “Somebody’s got to
stay back to guard the Deities.” We used to have problems with the neighbors as the
temple was situated in a bad neighborhood, and the young guys were always taunting
the devotees. Sometimes they would throw things at us when we would go out on
hari-nama. So, the temple president felt somebody’s got to stay back and guard the
temple. I thought to myself, “Doesn’t he know how much I want to go?” [laughs] He
knew everybody wanted to go, but he chose me to stay back, and that was the first
surrender that I had to do. I really didn’t want to. I wanted more than anything to go
with the devotees and greet Srila Prabhupada at the airport.
The next morning, when they were all getting ready to go, I began to think that
maybe I should go after all. I thought, “I’ll watch out the front door, and when the
temple president gets in his car, I’ll run out and go in one of the other cars.” But as I
began to think about that, I realized it was not a good idea, because what if while I am
away, the neighbors come in and desecrate the temple? I was reading the Bhagavatam
at that time, and I would learn about demons who would go and desecrate the sacrificial
arenas by passing stool there. In my mind I was thinking the guys on the block could
come and do all of that. And I began to think further: “What if while I’m out there
enjoying, what if Prabhupada arrives at the temple first, opens the door, and there is
stool and urine on the ground? What if Prabhupada asks the president, ‘What is this?’
And the president would say, ‘It must be the neighbors,’ and then Prabhupada would
ask, ‘But why didn’t you leave somebody behind to watch the temple?’ And the president
would say, ‘I did Srila Prabhupada. I left somebody behind.’ And Prabhupada would
respond, ‘And where is that rascal?’ meaning me.” [laughs] So I knew at that point I couldn’t go. I had to surrender and stay and man my station.
But by surrendering, I was rewarded. Just as I figured, Prabhupada’s car arrived
first, maybe ten minutes before any other car. At this point in time, I was in the temple
walking back and forth chanting japa. Suddenly the front door to the temple opened and
Prabhupada walked in alone. I couldn’t believe it! I immediately paid full dandavats. I
fell on the ground as Srila Prabhupada walked slowly to the altar and took darshan of
Radha-Govinda. It was definitely a unique moment to be alone with Prabhupada.
When Prabhupada walked back to the vyasasana, the other devotees arrived, and
guru-puja started. I was just observing everything and feeling blessed, when the temple
president, who was in front of me, turned around and said, “Don’t just stand there,
chant.” I ran and got a mridanga and started singing sri-guru-carana-padma. During
the whole song I was thinking that if I had abandoned my spot and gone in the car, I
would have never have had that opportunity. It was priceless. But what I learned from
that experience was that one can’t whimsically abandon a prescribed duty. Krishna
rewarded me by allowing me to chant for Prabhupada for the first time.
At the time Srila Prabhupada was translating the Srimad-Bhagavatam,
Sixth Canto, about Ajamila, he had with him two Sanskrit assistants, Pradyumna and
Nitai. They both were married, and they had a system whereby they would each work
with Prabhupada for a few months, and then they would trade off, as neither one could
do it full time. It was a nice system whereby Prabhupada translated into his Dictaphone,
and then either Pradyumna or Nitai would transcribe what Prabhupada had spoken the
night before.
At this particular time, Nitai was the assistant when Prabhupada was giving class
on the Sixth Canto, which he had just translated. Nitai wrote the verse on the
chalkboard so that we could all respond and chant it while Prabhupada sat on the
vyasasana prior to his lecture. After the men and women recited the verse, Prabhupada
asked Nitai for the translation. This verse was describing the time when Ajamila saw the
Yamadutas coming for him. Nitai described how after seeing the fierce looking
creatures, Ajamila called out, “Narayana, Narayana, Narayana!” We didn’t think
anything of it. It sounded appropriate, but Prabhupada caught it. Prabhupada took the
microphone and said, “Did I say three times?” We then realized Prabhupada was talking
to Nitai, who was sitting at the bottom of the vyasasana. Prabhupada said, “Did I say
three times?” Nitai wouldn’t answer. He just bowed his head and said nothing.
Prabhupada asked him again a third time, “Did I say three times?” Nitai still was not
answering.
We then realized something was wrong. Something was going on, but we didn’t
know what it was. And then Prabhupada leaned back on his vyasasana and said, “I did
not say three times.” Finally, Nitai confessed and said, “No, Prabhupada, you didn’t say
three times.” Then Prabhupada said the most wonderful thing. He leaned forward on the
vyasasana and said, “Why three times? Once is sufficient.” When he said that, his hand
and forefinger made like a mudra: “Once is sufficient.” The whole temple erupted,
“Haribol!” because he said it with such potency and conviction. Then he said again,
“Why three times?” The whole thing made sense.
And then Prabhupada showed a side of compassion because he could have ripped
into Nitai and blasted him, but he didn’t. He just leaned over the vyasasana to where
Nitai was seated on the floor and spoke directly to him. He said, “Don’t change anything
that I have written.” Then Prabhupada sat back and gave the rest of the Bhagavatam
class, which was all about the glories of chanting the holy name. But that little incident I will never forget because it was such a teaching moment.
Harikesh prabhu, who at that time was not a sannyasi, began traveling
with Prabhupada. Harikesh had been in the New York temple and he was training four
of us brahmacharis how to cook. Eventually, out of the four, the other three voted that I
should be the head cook in New York. However, I was not a brahman, so now to make it
all right, they sent me to get second initiation. Before being presented to Srila
Prabhupada to receive the gayatri mantra, Harikesh was going to teach us how to count
from one to ten on our fingers. He said, “This is very important. Don’t mess this up.” He
said, “Practice this counting method before you go in.” It seemed fairly simple, but we
nonetheless practiced counting one to ten while we waited outside on the porch.
The first devotee went in, but he came out in two minutes looking like he had
seen a ghost. We all said, “What’s wrong?” He said, “Prabhupada called me a ‘mudha’
and told me to get out.” We couldn’t believe it. “Why?” He said, “I got into Prabhupada’s
presence, and I couldn’t count from one to ten!” [laughs] I understood he must have
been mesmerized by the powerful presence of Prabhupada.
It reminded me of the story about Krishna visiting Vidura’s house when he was
not at home. Vidura’s wife invited Krishna in and Krishna said, “I’m hungry. Do you
have any prasadam?” Vidura’s wife said, “No, everything’s gone. We washed the pots
already.” Then Krishna said, “I see you have some bananas over there. I’ll take some
bananas.” So, Vidura’s wife got the bananas, but she was so enamored by Krishna’s
presence, that rather than just handing Him a banana, she took one and started peeling
it. In her ecstasy and bewilderment, she threw the banana away in the trash and gave
Krishna the peel. And just at that moment, Narada Muni and Vidura walked in and they
started laughing. Seeing this happening, Vidura said, “Look at my wife. She’s peeling the
banana, throwing the banana away, and giving Krishna the peel. Isn’t that amazing?”
And Narada Muni said, “What’s even more amazing is Krishna is actually eating the
peel.” [laughs]
So, this devotee couldn’t do a simple thing like chant one to ten and Prabhupada
told him, “You’re just a mudha. Get out.” So, he came out like he was about to die.
Harikesh said, “Don’t worry. Go to the end of the line and you’ll go back in at the end.
You’ll get another try.” [chuckles]
Everybody was nervous thinking, “If that could happen to him, it could happen to
me.” I was the fourth person going in, and I offered my obeisances and sat down close to
Prabhupada. He was on a mat on the floor and the first thing he asked me was, “Do you
know how to count one to ten?” [laughs] I said, “Yes, Prabhupada.” He said, “You do it
like this,” and he began to show me how to count. He counted out loud 1, 2, 3, 4, and
before he got to 5, he knew that I wasn’t paying attention, and I wasn’t. I stopped
looking at his hands because I was fascinated by being so close to him. I was looking at
his head, at the hair coming out of his ears. [chuckles] I was just enjoying looking at him
and he knew it. All of a sudden when he got to 5, he said, “Look here!” That grounded
me. Then he said, “Now you do it!” And I did it! Then he told me to come close and he
chanted the mantra in my ear. After that he took the thread and he threw it over me like
a lasso. I’ll never forget those moments.
I left New York and came to Los Angeles in 1974. The winters were too
much for me because I’m from the islands of Trinidad. Shortly after I arrived, Tulasi
das, who was the president, announced in the morning that Prabhupada was arriving at
the airport. He didn’t tell me to stay back, but rather he called me and said,
“Prabhupada’s coming and I want you to lead the kirtan for Prabhupada.” That was my
heart’s desire, so we all went in a big group. On the way to the airport, I was meditating
on what I would do upon seeing Prabhupada come through the gate. I thought I would
begin singing his pranam mantras: Nama om visnu-padaya..., and then I would chant
Jaya Sri Krishna Caitanya... Then I began to think of what melody of Hare Krishna I
should chant because I really wanted to please him.
In those days we didn’t know so many melodies, maybe half a dozen was as much
as everybody else knew, so we would just rotate these tunes on hari-nama or in the
temple. But I remembered at that time a particular melody one brahmachari had told
me was one of Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati Thakur’s favorite melodies, and I thought, “I’ll
sing that one because it is one of his spiritual master’s favorites.” [To hear the melody,
go to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ka3hkiRmoDw]. I started to sing, and before
I got halfway through it, Prabhupada stopped three feet in front of me, turned around,
and he looked me straight into my eyes. He gave me a smile and nodded his head in the
typical Indian fashion of approval and encouraged me to continue. I wasn’t the only one
who saw it, because I remember Danavir ran over to me and said, “Did you see that?” I
said, “Of course I saw it!” My realization was that I should take my kirtans seriously to
chant for Prabhupada’s pleasure. I would say to the devotees, “I never chant to become
popular or for fame,” but that came as a byproduct. I was chanting to please Prabhupada
and to please the Vaishnavas.
The quality Prabhupada exhibited that impressed me the most was his
compassionate nature. That was exemplified by how he dealt with some of his disciples
who had strayed or fallen away but then they came back. In fact, to illustrate that, I
remember one little incident. I had gone to San Francisco from New Dwarka for the first
Ratha-yatra and we all met Prabhupada at the airport. Prabhupada was making his way
through the crowd down the aisle, and suddenly he stopped and looked to his right
across the hallway. I was on his left side and I tried to follow his gaze, wondering, “What is he looking at?” I traced his glance and saw he was looking at one young man. I didn’t realize that that young man was a devotee and a disciple of Prabhupada. He was a young man with hair, and he had come out to greet Prabhupada after having left the movement for some time. Prabhupada stopped and looked at him with eyes full of compassion and
love. Prabhupada stretched out his hand, motioning for him to come to him. The boy
walked through the crowd of devotees, and Prabhupada took off one of his garlands and
put it around this disciple. The exchange was one of love. Prabhupada’s affection was so
real due to his happiness to see his long-lost disciple, that everyone, including this boy,
was filled with emotion seeing Prabhupada garland him. So, that’s something we read in
the shastras, that Vaishnavas are full of compassion. Srila Prabhupada didn’t even want
to see an animal being hurt or killed, what to speak of a devotee or a disciple. He was so
compassionate.
