“Haribol,
“Satsvarupa Maharaja’s lab reports did come back positive for UTI (urinary tract infection), so antibiotics were prescribed again. They are a different flavor this time to make sure that the repetition of UTIs is not coming from “the bugs” getting used to the meds. The doctor reminded us that an increase in the number of UTIs commonly goes along with advancing age of the body. One result is that there has been an increase in the number of incontinent episodes and uncharacteristic outbursts. Prayer works, so please increase, or at least start. We are all in this drama for the long run.
“Last Friday the neurologist, Dr. Koszer, started slowly scaling down on meds that were originally prescribed for migraines. They have been replaced by a new generation of medicine that addresses the problem much better.
“Yesterday we went to the dermatologist to ask how to deal with the compression ulcer above Satsvarupa Maharaja’s right hipbone. He lies on it and sits on it all day, so the cushion layer is very thin under the skin. This is an alarming situation because if the skin breaks, iIt is very difficult to repair the wound. Dr. Gregory, the dermatologist, said we should craft a cotton cushion to go over the wound and organize neck pillows in a way that will shift the weight off the area. This also requires retraining the way Satsvarupa Maharaja sits and sleeps … a difficult task.
“Today we go see Dr. Clinton, Satsvarupa Maharaja’s cardiologist, for the annual checkup. We will also ask him to have the final word on a medicine that Dr. Singh (a research psychiatrist who deals with Parkinson’s) and Dr. Koszer recommend. The issue is how seriously to take the fine-print warning about the potential for causing a erratic heartbeat.
“Please give me some feedback if you think this is all too much information ([email protected])
Hari Hari,
Baladeva
If you would like to help, please contact Kṛṣṇa-bhajana dāsa at [email protected] or [email protected] and we will find you a service that utilizes your talents.
I thought, “What’s the use of keeping a japa log? I certainly won’t keep it up after I leave Vrndavana.”
Why? I think it’s an artificial extra. I pretend to be more devoted to japa than I am. Besides, there’s nothing to say. Japa is japa. It’s inexplicable. It’s either good or bad. What’s the use of writing, “Today was better,” “Today was worse”?
Okay, but I may just keep the log anyway. It’s nice to write and thus think about japa. “Write your realizations,” Prabhupada said. I remember the editor of Modern Haiku used to publish his one- or two-sentence realizations and descriptions about haiku in each issue of his magazine. He numbered them. You could tell he loved haiku and liked writing about it. A haiku, like a Hare Krsna mantra, may be inexplicable by nature, but a lover likes to talk of the one he loves. Even a struggler or offender like me wants to be focused on chanting.
Sixteen rounds done. I’ll try for extra. Just to say I’ve done more? Yes, because I see it as a virtue. To scale higher on the wall. Hare Krsna. Maybe it will help me to overcome mechanical chanting.
Hear, please, your chanting. Early in the morning I did fourteen by 4:30 A.M. Hear and chant.
Four extra today. Caw, caw. I don’t brag. Screech. Thud, Yap. Hindi. Crash. Hare Krsna. You ate sweet bread? Tomorrow is Ekadasi—I know, I don’t expect you to do something Herculean. But at least four extra. Or, don’t let me pressure you. You’ve got two lectures. Just make whatever chanting you do good quality. Start before 1:30 A.M.
Chanted one extra round so far and will do another at the disciples’ meeting. A Godbrother wrote me that he concentrates as he chants on Srila Prabhupada’s “just hear,” and he regularly reviews as he chants, “Am I hearing? Am I hearing?”
Squeeze out an extra round. It’s what counts. Japa. How serious am I? How good am I? I’m tired of trying to figure it out. Don’t want to pose as a serious chanter, but neither do I want to fall into a negative cliché that I’m incorrigibly inattentive. I do care and there is hope for reform. Therefore, extra efforts are worthwhile.
How long will this log last? It’s like a flickering flame that could blow out with a sudden gust.
Finding quotes to read this afternoon. I’m not living rightly in Vrndavana. No big offenses but . . . just choked up, dry. Always on the verge of another headache. Writing dwindled. Nothing to say. Most important is to use available energy to (1) prepare and give lectures; (2) answer letters; (3) chant japa—squeezing out extras.
******
I was speaking about spontaneity, but when I chant, I can see I’m not a spontaneous lover of Krsna. I ground out two extra rounds with Prabhupada’s japa tape and imagined that I could be doing other things instead. To keep going I told myself, “What if this is the last evening of your life?” That didn’t hit me so hard, but it was enough to hold on to the rounds.
******
Krsna, Krsna-chant an extra round. My body continues to eat and consume and assimilate and digest even while Krsna dives into the Yamuna and out again. We have to tread the holy path carefully and soberly if we want to stay in touch with Krsna’s pastimes. Peace. God is a person, but not a generic one. Therefore, chant the holy names. Kerouac didn’t know the holy names and never had the opportunity to meet Srila Prabhupada. Ginsberg met him and that’s to his credit, but he wasn’t pious enough, or was too self-conscious, to give up the things you have to give up in order to chant. He thought Krsna consciousness was dogmatic. He wanted something universal, but not a Krsna conscious version of it. He missed it because he preferred to run free in lust and false ego and the kind of Buddhism that allows you to do what you want and still end up at zero.
******
Just a small light on at the boathouse. I could say “Krsna, Krsna,” and be proud I chanted an extra round. Oh, for the day when many poets and writers, many thousands of intelligentsia, politicians, and athletes will chant Hare Kona. When will that day come when we will spread out like a vast oak or banyan tree under the sky? Kirtana played with the musical instruments of every country.
pp. 338-42
Millions of years ago, according to Vedic sources, the Supreme Lord appeared on this planet as the Warrior Rama Chandra, in order to execute His Will and display the Pastimes of the Personality of Godhead. As is stated in the Bhagavad Gita, “From time to time I come, in order to vanquish the demons and rescue the devotees.”
The Pastimes of Lord Rama are revealed in the famous Vedic Scripture called the Ramayana, written by Sri Valmiki. Before being empowered to write the Ramayana, Valmiki had been a plunderer; but, by the grace of the great saint Narada, he became a Vaishnava—that is, a worshipper of the Personality of Godhead. Narada had first asked Valmiki to please chant the Name of the Lord, but Valmiki had replied that he would not. He was a murderer, and so what had he to do with chanting God’s Name? Narada then asked him to meditate on his murders, by saying the name of “Mara,” which means Death. Valmiki agreed to this, and meditated on “Mara.” By rapid repetition of the word—Mara, Mara, Mara—he found himself saying Rama, Rama, Rama, and by the power of reciting the Holy Name of God his heart became purified.
Lord Rama Chandra appeared on this Earth as a man. This means that He actually walked the Earth. What is written in the Ramayana, we should note here, is best understood as it is. When the Pastimes of the Supreme Personality of Godhead are narrated, there can be no question of allusion to a higher principle. Allegory means that there is a truth higher than the literal sense of a given text. But the highest realization of spiritual perfection is that the Absolute Truth is a Person—which precludes any possibility of going beyond Him. God means the Highest Reality. He is the One from Whom everything emanates. Although He appeared as a man out of kindness to His devotees, Rama Chandra is the Supreme Lord. His history is, therefore, very marvelous and filled with wondrous feats, as we’ll see.
Rama Chandra was the son of King Dasarath, in the line of King Ikshvaku, the first ruler of Earth, and an early recipient of the Bhakti Yoga system of the Bhagavad Gita. Lord Rama was the darling of His father and mother, Queen Kausalya, as well as the hero and darling of all Ayodhya, the capital of what was then the single world kingdom.
Rama had all the admirable qualities of leadership, even from earliest youth. Rama Chandra possessed all physical strength, all beauty, religious wisdom in submission to Truth, fame for prowess with weapons, royal wealth, and complete renunciation. He played the part of a human, and yet His stature as a human was praised by all His contemporaries as being worthy of the gods.
Inseparable from Rama was Lakshman, His younger brother. Lakshman was born of Sumitra, one of the three hundred fifty queens of King Dasarath. His position is like that of Rama’s Own Self, and nothing is dearer to Rama than Lakshman. Together, the two Brothers appeared on Earth to vanquish the almost invincible atheist King Ravana and his numberless host of Rakshasa (man-eating) warriors.
Rama Chandra is described as being of greenish hue, His bodily luster like fresh green grass. And Lakshman is golden-hued. Lakshman is as attractive and as formidable a warrior as Rama Himself. During the course of one of the blood-drenched battles against Ravana’s army, Lakshman was rendered unconscious by Rakshasa magic, and at that time Rama gave vent to a spontaneous expression of love for Lakshman: “If I lose the kingdom that I can bear, but I could not bear the loss of Lakshman! I cannot go on if Lakshman is lost to Me!” Lakshman was likewise dedicated to the service of his Brother and had no other pleasure than to do the bidding of Rama Chandra.
Back to Godhead, Vol. 1 #21 (1968)
(to be continued)
pp. 36-42
I had a book called Tell Me About God. It told how God created the trees, the land, and everything else. Another book was called Tell Me About Jesus. It had nice illustrations. We had a Christmas book with carols in it, and I remember sitting on the couch singing those hymns aloud to myself. I was partly enjoying my own singing, and partly knowing that they were “holy” songs. It made me feel angelic, like the holy angels in the book, to sing those carols. My mother walked by and appreciated my singing. I played it up for her too, and kept on singing, “O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see you lie . . . “
This Christmas book had the story of the fir tree by Han Christian Andersen, with wonderful pictures. There was a little fir tree, and he was dissatisfied with his life in the forest. When he grew up, he was chopped down, decorated for the holiday, and then thrown to the fire. Before he died, he told the mice in the attic, “I should have been satisfied with my lovely life in the forest.” There was also the story of a boy who had nothing to offer to Christ. “What shall I give him? I don’t have gold, I don’t have a lamb. I know, I’ll give him my love.” I
loved that Christmas book and read it again and again, especially the illustrations.
We also had a big Catholic Bible in our house, but I never saw anyone reading it.
Srila Prabhupada often commented on the importance of the first influences upon a child, especially for Krsna consciousness.
Srila Jiva Gosvami remarks in this connection that every child, if given an impression of the Lord from his very childhood, certainly becomes a great devotee of the Lord like Maharaja Pariksit. . . . Maharaja Prahlada also advises that such impressions of a godly relation must be impregnated from the be-ginning of childhood, otherwise, one may miss the opportunity of the human form of life, which is very valuable, although it is temporary like others.
—Bhag. 1.12.30
Krsna conscious parents deliberately bring children into the world to give them a spiritual education. Often this appears to them to be a thankless task. After carrying their children before the temple Deities of Radha and Krsna for years, and holding the infant up before the tulasi, worshiping and chanting with them, the children often grow up to reject their upbringing, usually as teenagers. But it is likely that persons brought up in a devotional home will remember it again sooner or later, at least before death.
My own upbringing was secular. Religious obligations were fulfilled just by attending church on Sunday. My mother forced me, so there was no question of not going. If I missed even one Sunday Mass, it was a mortal sin. My mother, sister, and I would walk together to St. Clare’s church through “the village,” the ladies wearing their 1950s dresses and hats, and me in my dress-up clothes. After Mass, Sunday morning would be spent reading the funny papers, lounging around or playing, and in the evening, we would watch the Colgate Comedy Hour on TV.
In our house, we never spoke of an afterlife. Who would bring up such a topic? If I ever did ask a religious question as a child, it was answered in one or two sentences by my mother, usually followed by a cynical joke about the “freeloader” priests from my father.
My impression of religion, therefore, was that it was a part of family and social life. It was important in its own way, but definitely limited to a small compartment. Neither was it particularly joyful. But my superficial roots in spiritual life do not sadden me. I am simply happy that I met Srila Prabhupada. My childhood misadventures with religion seem to me like humorous tales in someone else’s life, like watching a TV situation-comedy. Upbringing is important, but whether you have spiritual training or not, you can still receive the mercy of the Supreme Lord whenever you meet His merciful representative.
In The Nectar of Devotion, Srila Prabhupada states that according to Rupa Gosvami, bhakti is a process continued from one’s previous life. “No one can take to devotional service unless he has some previous connection with it. “But,” Srila Prabhupada writes, “even if there is no continuity, if only by chance a person takes interest in the pure devotee’s instruction, he can be accepted and he can advance in devotional service.”
That Christmas book was nice. It gave me some warm, joyful moments and a hint of spiritual peace where “the silent stars go by” in the sky of Bethlehem. It was a spiritual inkling within me, and it may have helped me in some small way to pay attention when Srila Prabhupada began to sing.
pp. 154-58
A dirty beggarwoman is standing in the middle of the Samadhi Mandir. They allow her to take caranamrta, which she collects in a clay pot. Then two guards come in and throw her out. One guard gave her a push out the door and the other slapped his stick on the ground. They didn’t want anyone begging in the Mandir.
Srila Prabhupada, do you notice the change in weather?
All he does is chase pigeons all day by clapping his hands. Maybe he even does it at night in his sleep. And I, with a bubbling spring of writing practice, clap my hands to chase away the blues.
You know my fear, Srila Prabhupada, that I will spend my last years coasting and reaping honors as one of your seniormost disciples. “Tell us about the old days with Srila Prabhupada.” I want to tell new stories of your presence in my life. Niranjana Swami, for example, told how he witnessed your potency wherever he traveled in Russia and the former Soviet Union. That’s up-to-date prabhupada-lila. Prabhupada in Bosnia, at the Miami airport, on television, at a conference in Poland where Saunaka Rsi dasa assures the people that we are not a dangerous cult. Prabhupada of the Centennial. And my Prabhupada in the murti in my room.
I can go back to those old days, but not as a museum piece. We have to be interested in your life in all its aspects. Is he vital and pure in his own movement? Can I help keep peace? Can I help fight maya and work to purge out an anti-Prabhupada spirit?
Live until you die, as the saying goes. Madhu is going to arrange for some devotees to take photographs of these places for me so I can look at the pictures when I’m traveling. I’m leaving soon. Most important, though, is to plant indelible impressions in my mind and memory. I came here day after day. I looked up to him and saw his shiny features and the light reflecting off the bronze.
Jaya Gaurasundara dasa just walked in. I stopped and talked to him and his wife for a few minutes about his son’s marriage and travel. That always happens—our relationship is so domestic. We’re a family and we chat and exchange news. If I were more lofty, I could pick up our conversation, but instead, I stopped. It didn’t feel right to discuss these things in here in front of Srila Prabhupada.
Marriage . . . cooking . . . airplane tickets . . . but Srila Prabhupada, these are very dear disciples of yours, rare even among Vaisnava Indian families. So many Gujaratis are born as worshipers of Krsna and follow the four rules their whole lives, but how few recognize Your Divine Grace as their guru and see the need to throw off all sentimental Hindu ideas and fully accept Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu as the Supreme Lord.
You said that the brahmana is the intellectual. He studies sastra and writes books. He doesn’t have to do the ksatriya’s or the vaisya’s work. Krsna doesn’t ask Vyasadeva to fight on the battlefield like Arjuna, you said. He asks Vyasa to write books. Yet when Lord Krsna wanted to teach bhakti-yoga, He called for His friend, Arjuna. The writer is employed in service, but he isn’t necessarily the dearest friend of the Lord just because he can turn words into print. The friend, the devotee with no self-interest, is the Lord’s dearmost. Therefore, I must be careful not to be carried away in sheer writing joy and forget for whom it is intended.
The letter on your desk today is to Makhanlal, January 1972. You accepted the devotees he recommended for initiation. You could initiate without limit. “These are all very nice boys and girls, that I can understand.” You told Makhanlal to take charge of the new initiates and to give them guidance on the path back to Godhead. “Practically the leadership of the Krsna conscious society is now in the hands of you, my older disciples, and I am very pleased that you are taking such huge responsibility very seriously. Be sober, cool-headed and always think of Krsna somehow or other.”
Your immortal words flow through us in the exact way that you said them: “Be responsible, cool-headed, sober, and always think of Krsna.”
“There is no doubt this movement will one day conquer all over the world.” Be convinced of the philosophy, keep up the standards of book distribution, cleansing, chanting, daily worship, study, improve—don’t neglect, “And in every way become the perfect Krsna conscious example of angel.”
New garlands have arrived—all orange marigolds. A small, delicate garland for the pictures—roses alternating with white “parijatas.” The letter on your desk, under the water cup, flaps in the breeze. Sparrows chirp outside. The distant thud of a drum, like a heartbeat, coming from the twenty-four hour kirtana in the temple. Black floors, black floors. I will remember this place.
pp. 384-89
That’s what happened to Ram Dass. Then you can’t write any more.
I’d find some inner resources. I’d pray. I’d feel, “Well, I’ve written enough, Krishna’s taken it away.” Thoreau writes something that if you are a writer, plumb the depths now, these things that are coming to you will not last forever, drink the dregs. Because they’ll soon dry up, he said. So, I write every day.
What if I had a stroke and I couldn’t write? I would take it that Krishna was taking it away from me, and I would find inner resources, and I would pray . . . not able to communicate.
Have I lost, have I dried up in different areas of writing like poetry and serious sadhana books or wild writing – fear of censure?
Maybe some areas have been cut off to me, but I still have a current like the Ganges, a good current – the daily poem – and my autobiography.
I’m not writing prayers. I wrote two volumes, My Dear Lord Krishna, and then I felt it was enough. Or Krishna took it away. I can still write poems, I still do. But not so frequently.
Free writing seems to have stopped because I can’t write fast anymore, and because I find it distasteful to write nonsense.
Serious honest writing? That’s what I’m doing . . . I don’t know, people may say that I’m not writing seriously about inner life. But I’m trying when I write about my Deities and when I write about japa.
I write my daily poem. The sections are repetitious about japa and the Deity, but that’s where I’m at now, and I’m happy in my bhajana. And people are getting nourished by it too, they tell me. They like to read it before they chant japa. Or they get inspired by the Deity worship, even though it’s similar entries . . .
There’s my drawing and painting life, that’s similar too. Narayana came over, looked over my painting today. He dryly said, “Cows,” because for three days in a row I’ve painted cows. Krishna and Balarama twice and once, cowherd boys and cows. And every day I draw either four people chanting or three people chanting. But it’s nice, it’s like Rama Raya going out every day in Union Square. Same chanting of Hare Krishna, same people jumping up and down, but they’re a little different all the time. I asked Krishna-sakti to make me some more pictures of my dancers inserted in places in New York City, marching down Fifth Avenue and Union Square, chanting in Tompkins Square Park, chanting at 26 Second Avenue. My people.
I can’t go out and chant and dance myself, so I dance on the page.
pp. 24-27
Write what you can. Ananta dasa has just come back from the Boston Ratha-yatra. He is intent on cultivating personal, confidential relationships, and he wants to discuss how we may improve ourselves. He wants honesty—no more hiding behind religious roles. I would like to do this with him, but I have my schedule and writing work and correspondence. We spoke together today and decided to travel together for a few months. “Then,” he said, “I will have to strike out on my own, be honest with others, and develop my own service.”
Ananta, Baladeva, and I spoke after hearing Krsna’s pastimes from the KRSNA book. We read how the families moved to Vrndavana in their ox carts, how Mother Yasoda and Mother Rohini were very happy holding Krsna and Balarama on their laps. The cowherd men protected the procession. We spoke of what impressed us. I liked the KRSNA book’s mention that the boys were speaking with Their mothers. I wondered what they were talking about, but realized that I am not qualified to hear that conversation. Baladeva noted that the mothers and children were free to “bubble over” with happiness because the men took on the anxiety of protecting them. Ananta noted the noise of the carts creaking, the wheels and the bullocks’ movement over the road. Then I spoke more extensively about how an outsider would doubt the reality of Krsna’s killing the calf demon. I liked what I said, thought it was eloquent, something I could repeat in the classroom in Vrndavana.
I joked, “What if we become so addicted to hearing Krsna’s pastimes that we become mad unless we are actually hearing them? The psychologists would use this against us in court cases. They would say, ‘At first they started out just hearing two hours a day, then they increased it.’
Now I am alone, scratching the page. Rain drips down around me. Birds and squirrels sometimes attract my attention as they crackle old leaves on the forest floor.
I was joking about what won’t happen—becoming mad to hear of Krsna’s pastimes constantly.
I want to discover a best way of writing. I love the flow of ink. I want to be part of the big group moving to Vrndavana with Krsna. I want to be walking behind one of the carts and sometimes catch sight of Krsna. I would like to compose poems to Krsna. There is quite a bit about that in the Tenth Canto. Prabhupada says that Mother Yasoda used to compose poems and sing them while she was churning butter:
It was formerly a custom that if one wanted to remember something constantly, he would transform it into poetry or have this done by a professional poet. It appears that Mother Yasoda did not want to forget Krsna’s activities at any time. Therefore, she poeticized all of Krsna’s childhood activities, such as the killing of Putana, Aghasura, Sakatasura, and Trnavarta, and while churning the butter, she sang about these activities in poetical form. This should be the practice of persons eager to remain Krsna conscious twenty-four hours a day.
—Bhag. 10.9.2
I heard Srila Prabhupada talking about composing Krsna songs during a meeting with gurukula teachers in France, 1976. One of the teachers told Prabhupada that they were sometimes composing simple songs for the children. Was this all right? Prabhupada said yes. Then he said, “KRSNA book is already easy, but if you want to make it more easy, that is all right.” He seemed to be hinting that he thought the KRSNA book was fine the way it was, but on other occasions he instructed devotees to put KRSNA book into verse form.
I somehow get the impression (although maybe it is my imagination) that Mother Yasoda was making up her songs with little attention to rhyming lyrics or Sanskrit rules. There is also a mention of singing songs when Krsna’s family and friends moved to Vrndavana: “As they rode, they began to chant with great pleasure the pastimes of Krsna.” Prabhupada explains, “They used to pass their time either by taking care of Krsna and Balarama, or by chanting about Their pastimes.”
Sukadeva says that after some wonderful activity by Krsna, the boys would then “declare the incident loudly.” Prabhupada states,
“It was the practice of the inhabitants of Vrajabhumi to compose poetry about the incidents that occurred in the forest when Krsna performed His different activities of killing the asuras. They would compose all the stories in poetry or have this done by professional poets, and then they would sing about these incidents” (Bhag. 10.11.53).
Of course, one cannot do this unless he has bhava. I hope that as I go on hearing and reading, I will develop appreciation and deep respect for those pastimes. There is nothing better than attaining this taste. Then no matter where you are, you can think of Krsna and sing of His pastimes, and be free of all material disturbances.
pp. 138-43
I have an intention to start a journal of my experience in reading Prabhupāda’s books. I thought it might be like Japa Reform Notebook, helping devotees to read better and to increase their appreciation of Prabhupāda’s books. But for this book to have value, I have to first keep this Journal for my own purpose—my own improvement in reading and appreciating Prabhupāda’s books.
To get at reform, I have to be honest. I just read about ten verses and purports from the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam. First I experienced sleepiness, which is not unnatural, especially since I rise so early. Once that was under control, there was inattention. Sleepiness and inattention: the same two enemies as in chanting.
But then I found also a subtle form of doubt: “I accept what I read in the purports as the absolute truth, but the material is constantly repetitious, and that is the main cause of my inattention. The material is organized in a repetitious way, without specific subjects being pursued, just the same thing again and again.” This doubt takes the blame off me for being sleepy, lazy, or inept, and puts the blame on the presentation of Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam. This doubt, which is essentially unspoken, is not unusual among devotees.
Another problem I discovered is my inability to retain what I had just read. In answer to the question, “What was the exact subject matter of the verses and purports you just read?” I would be hard-pressed to make a succinct reply. This is another way of saying I read without attention. Again, if I put the blame on the purport, I am saying it was written in such a way as to have no clear, succinct method.
I propose to read over again the same material I just read, and this time I am determined to prove that the problem lies in myself, and that constant, rich, intelligible rewards and “new lights” are there in the purports for anyone who is serious about the work of study.
—Reading Reform, pp. 55–56
By sticking to his books and accepting in actual practice that they are a worthy subject matter for study, I will enhance both my personal attachment to Prabhupāda and to Lord Kṛṣṇa, on whose behalf Śrīla Prabhupāda performed all his transcendental efforts.
The only person who doesn’t like Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam is the killer of the soul (even the slaughterer of animals or the person who completely neglects self-realization). These people, because of gross ignorance, may not understand or may not appreciate Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam.
—Reading Reform, p. 57
Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam is essential for the serious candidate who wants to attain the stage of Bhīṣmadeva at the end. The unique situation of Bhīṣma can be attained at the time of death, even though Lord Kṛṣṇa may not be personally present. His words of the Bhagavad-gītā or Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam are identical with the Lord. They are sound incarnations…. [Of nine items, the first item, hearing (śravaṇaṁ), is the most important of all] (Bhāg. 1.9.43, purport).
The opening entry in this journal indicates my hope of knowing Kṛṣṇa through the Bhāgavatam and of having an intimate relationship with Prabhupāda. These are facts, real opportunities awaiting me as I regularly read Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam.… The more I practice, though, I think it will not be an unliked chore. I will see it better for what it is, immediate spiritual nourishment and steps toward reaching my eternal relationship with Kṛṣṇa—for ultimate breakthrough to unceasing, loving service.
… Even a poor man residing in the material world can avail himself of this revelation. It is a great wonder.
… I read for about a half-hour, very satisfying. Then I looked through what I had read, preparing to read sections of it aloud and to expand on the theme at the meeting with devotees in my room tomorrow. This is a nice way to read, preparing to deliver it to others.
—Reading Reform, p. 58
Your spiritual master is still here and you can speak with him and pray to him. While standing on a bridge looking into the water you promise. Walking, you forget where you are and feel assured. He will be lenient, he will lead you further.
Walking. Memories pass like clouds
moving at dawn . . .
One time you came into his room when
he was sitting at the low desk. You
bowed full dandavats before him.
You sat up and he smiled.
He told you to go on placing his books in
the libraries.
Prabhupada, correct me, be with me.
This life turned inside out
produces only pennies and a ripped rupee.
This life is blessed yet still
it’s a teacup with
no spiritual emotions.
The colder it gets . . . I’m the only
sannyasi at mangala arati so I recite aloud
the prema- dhvani prayers: “Nitya-lila
pravista.” Srila Prabhupada is in his
eternal lila and in the Prabhupada
Samadhi Mandir. We’re gathered with
our differences.
The shops are locked.
Too cold for chaukidars to sleep outdoors.
Too cold for thieves?
Krsna and Balarama wrapped in maroon
silk.
I can’t see much, cobwebs of thoughts.
Performance. Don’t think about it.
Be somewhere truly and write of that.
I am in my head and belly, in this house and
backyard, in the lives of those we call my
disciples.
I have read a sublime chapter of Krsna’s pastimes. A
friend is traveling here tonight, and by the weekend two
more.
I am thirsty for water.
I write with a pink pen and then change it to a light
green.
Krsna—Krsna knows the reason why He visits some in
His personal form and refrains from seeing others.
He knows what is best and He reciprocates with our
desires.
All this I’ve heard from the reliable, undisturbed
authorities.
He is far away (I know) and very near as well.
You can seek Him in your heart.
God is not vague; He is not dead.
He’s in the fierce arguments caused by His devotee-
preachers.
He’s in the Deity form in the temple where He sleeps
until four.
He’s in His names for whoever makes the effort to chant.
Even in the birds’ cries, sounds of barking dogs and
tires.
Where did I start?
Where can I go?
Just stay on the beam as a vaidhi-bhakta.
I’m writing this for you,
for me that is,
hoping to express
what I’m really after and
what I’ll attain one day:
fixed up in jolly attraction
for my Lord Govinda
and telling about Him
to whomever I meet, like
Prabhupada did at Dr. Mishra’s
when he led them in hour-long kirtanas
even when there was no sign that
anyone would take to it full-time.
He sang slowly and gravely, in a deep
voiced, old-voiced devotional tune of
Bengal—of Prabhupada.
And because he was pure, gradually some
came, playing karatalas 1-2-3 in New York.
That’s where I started; that’s where I go.
You think you’ll run out of things
to say? No, but urgency.
If I tell everyone I’m writing poems, that
could kill it.
By lack of practice I could lose the easy
touch, the nerve.
You have to try and want to serve and
then He may empower you.
He’ll let you go on ranting, rambling, but
that’s a different thing.
I’m talking about poems that can be
accepted as transcendental, as preaching
… as poems.
So resolve to practice. That’s why it’s so
important to do it for your own pleasure.
That’s not a sin.
You think Rupa Gosvami didn’t enjoy writing
beautiful verses about Radha and Krsna? No one
forced him. He wanted to and he was renounced, not interested in becoming a famous poet. “Overcome with yearning, and crying in the middle of Vrndavana forest, I shall now reveal the deep mark burning tears have made in my heart.” So “enjoyment” is not the word for Rupa Gosvami, but it may work for me.
And he had a wish to serve Sri Caitanya
Mahaprabhu by helping people come to Him,
through his writings.
“May whoever reads this prayer to
the Queen of Vrndavana—become the object
of Her mercy.”
That’s the idea.
It’s quiet here in Pennsylvania—
I’ll be interrupted at any moment.
Tonight they predict another snowstorm.
Sirens on the highway,
death in the city and everywhere.
It’s not touching me yet.
We’re going to read more Tenth Canto.
If you like, dear spiritual master,
I could serve by writing.
This is how I propose to do it.
But only if you say to Krsna,
let him flow—not another Rupa Gosvami
by any means,
but let him allow himself to release
all the wonderful things
he already knows and feels from
a lifetime in ISKCON,
moments with the pure devotee,
a self that is pure and dormant, eternal —
whose struggle
is something,
who’d like to leave a record
of songs
accepted
and useful,
fun and easy to read, su’sukham
kartam avyayam
pp. 80-82
Just began reading the Sixth Canto. It takes me awhile to pay attention and then to faithfully receive and feel the purports and verses. Maharaja Pariksit is asking about the path of liberation from repeated birth and death. The canto was called posanam, or protection by the Lord. Bhurijana is reading SB to see how it is all connected. I can’t seem to do that. But if I read carefully, maybe gradually I’ll receive the same purpose.
See devotional service as the prime goal of life and take to it. Be serious about going back to Godhead. Pray to Krishna.
Skepticism is the “gift” of this age. We are born into it. Religion is generally scorned as inferior knowledge. SP promises that reading SB will cure us of this.
We think (outrageously) that there is no God who created and we don’t have to worry about sinful acts because there is no life after death – SB is simply an old myth. This has been taken in by us. We need time and prayer in SB and Krishna’s grace. Unless He awards His mercy, no one can understand Him.
Dream – living as objects of scorn and threat, members of Hare Krishna. A Godbrother was the main character in the dream and I was there. He was living in a place where he was always gagging the nature of this threat and whether it would be carried out. People mostly didn’t carry it out but periodically threatened, with knives and once broke down the doors. My Godbrother seemed equal to the challenge, brave. I didn’t want to necessarily give up my life.
Life went on without much violence or incidents but always threats and awareness of the fact that the attack could take place.
What does the dream mean? I can philosophize in a general way about it. But dreams are usually more personal – something to be felt by me now. But maybe a devotee’s dream-producer is preaching to him the general message of KC philosophy. We are threatened by time. Better clear yourself of karma and get ready to die. A devotee is in that sense marked out whereas others are not. They are unaware.
In reality, Western society is not so prejudiced against devotees, not to the point of constant threats of physical attacks against us just because we are devotees. But it could come to that. Or is there a symbolic meaning in dreaming it?
What did it feel like? You simply have to live with that condition. My Godbrother had one attitude toward it. He perhaps provoked more than was necessary. I might have lived with it in a different way.
Another unsolved puzzle. But it seems right to mention them. Don’t let them get completely lost before you mention them and allow them to enter waking consciousness with whatever they want to say. I’m not trying to shut out the voice of the unconscious.
Standing in the backyard chanting rounds by the little fence near the canal – suddenly I had a feeling of yearning. What was it?
At first, I thought maybe it was a yearning to be back into the heart of ISKCON temple life like I used to be. That complete confident security of purpose within Prabhupada’s mission, Prabhupada’s heart.
And so, I thought somehow, I’ve alienated myself from it and that I should find a way to get back into it.
But then I thought, no, it’s not there anymore, it’s gone. Certainly, I’m an ISKCON member but for me I can’t find that anymore the way it used to be.
Then I have to accept this loneliness. Staying on my own, writing and reading. But is it satisfying?
Or is the yearning just a yearning to be again clear about my connection with Prabhupada and to feel full appreciation for him in the innocent way I used to? Is it simply that I don’t have any taste for the holy names and I’m yearning for that?
Is the yearning good or bad?
Now that it’s over, I think the most significant was that it was not clear to me what I was feeling. My life is not even clear as to what I want and what I don’t want. And despite so much self-expression in writing, I don’t seem to know who I am.
Readers will find, in the Appendix of this book, scans of a cover letter written by Satsvarūpa Mahārāja to the GN Press typist at the time, along with some of the original handwritten pages of June Bug. Together, these help to illustrate the process used by Mahārāja when writing his books during this period. These were timed books, in the sense that a distinct time period was allotted for the writing, during SDG’s travels as a visiting sannyāsī
Don’t take my pieces away from me. I need them dearly. My pieces are my prayers to Kṛṣṇa. He wants me to have them, this is my way to love Him. Never take my pieces away.
Many planks and sticks, unable to stay together, are carried away by the force of a river’s waves. Similarly, although we are intimately related with friends and family members, we are unable to stay together because of our varied past deeds and the waves of time.
To Śrīla Prabhupāda, who encouraged his devotees (including me) To write articles and books about Kṛṣṇa Consciousness.
I wrote him personally and asked if it was alright for his disciples to write books, Since he, our spiritual master, was already doing that. He wrote back and said that it was certainly alright For us to produce books.
I have a personal story to tell. It is a about a time (January–July 1974) I spent as a personal servant and secretary of my spiritual master, His Divine Grace A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupäda, founder-äcärya of the International Society for Krishna Consciousness. Although I have written extensively about Çréla Prabhupäda, I’ve hesitated to give this account, for fear it would expose me as a poor disciple. But now I’m going ahead, confident that the truth will purify both my readers and myself.
First published by The Gītā-nāgarī Press/GN Press in serialized form in the magazine Among Friends between 1996 and 2001, Best Use of a Bad Bargain is collected here for the first time in this new edition. This volume also contains essays written by Satsvarūpa dāsa Goswami for the occasional periodical, Hope This Meets You in Good Health, between 1994 and 2002, published by the ISKCON Health and Welfare Ministry.
This book has two purposes: to arouse our transcendental feelings of separation from a great personality, Śrīla Prabhupāda, and to encourage all sincere seekers of the Absolute Truth to go forward like an army under the banner of His Divine Grace A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupāda and the Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement.
A single volume collection of the Nimai novels.
Śrīla Prabhupāda was in the disciplic succession from the Brahmā-Mādhva-Gauḍīya sampradāya, the Vaiṣṇavas who advocate pure devotion to God and who understand Kṛṣṇa as the Supreme Personality of Godhead. He always described himself as simply a messenger who carried the paramparā teachings of his spiritual master and Lord Kṛṣṇa.
Dear Srila Prabhupada,
Please accept this or it’s worse than useless.
You have given me spiritual life
and so my time is yours.
You want me to be happy in Krishna consciousness
You want me to spread Krishna consciousness,
This collection of Satsvarūpa dāsa Goswami’s writings is comprised of essays that were originally published in Back to Godhead magazine between 1966 and 1978, and compiled in 1979 by Gita Nagari Press as the volume A Handbook for Kṛṣṇa Consciousness.
This second volume of Satsvarūpa dāsa Goswami’s Back to Godhead essays encompasses the last 11 years of his 20-year tenure as Editor-in-Chief of Back to Godhead magazine. The essays in this book consist mostly of SDG’s ‘Notes from the Editor’ column, which was typically featured towards the end of each issue starting in 1978 and running until Mahārāja retired from his duties as editor in 1989.
This collection of Satsvarupa dasa Goswami’s writings is comprised of essays that were originally published in Back to Godhead magazine between 1991 and 2002, picking up where Volume 2 leaves off. The volume is supplemented by essays about devotional service from issues of Satsvarupa dasa Goswami’s magazine, Among Friends, published in the 1990s.
“This is a different kind of book, written in my old age, observing Kṛṣṇa consciousness and assessing myself. I believe it fits under the category of ‘Literature in pursuance of the Vedic version.’ It is autobiography, from a Western-raised man, who has been transformed into a devotee of Kṛṣṇa by Śrīla Prabhupāda.”
The Best I Could DoI want to study this evolution of my art, my writing. I want to see what changed from the book In Search of the Grand Metaphor to the next book, The Last Days of the Year.
a Hare Krishna ManIt’s world enlightenment day
And devotees are giving out books
By milk of kindness, read one page
And your life can become perfect.
Calling Out to Srila Prabhupada: Poems and PrayersO Prabhupāda, whose purports are wonderfully clear, having been gathered from what was taught by the previous ācāryas and made all new; O Prabhupāda, who is always sober to expose the material illusion and blissful in knowledge of Kṛṣṇa, may we carefully read your Bhaktivedanta purports.
I use free-writing in my devotional service as part of my sādhana. It is a way for me to enter those realms of myself where only honesty matters; free-writing enables me to reach deeper levels of realization by my repeated attempt to “tell the truth quickly.” Free-writing takes me past polished prose. It takes me past literary effect. It takes me past the need to present something and allows me to just get down and say it. From the viewpoint of a writer, this dropping of all pretense is desirable.
Geaglum Free WriteThis edition of Satsvarūpa dāsa Goswami’s 1996 timed book, Geaglum Free Write Diary, is published as part of a legacy project to restore Satsvarūpa Mahārāja’s writings to ‘in print’ status and make them globally available for current and future readers.