Wednesday, 29 June 2022


 

The Significance of Deities

and Deity Worship

By Stephen Knapp

 

         Deities play an important part in most temples of Krishna and other Divinities. But what is the significance of Deities and Deity worship? One thing to understand is that all the images or Deities in the Vedic pantheon, as found in the temples, are made according to explicit details and instructions found in the Vedic texts . Then they are installed in the temple in an elaborate ceremony wherein the Divine personalities are called to appear in the form of the Deity. Some of the Deities are demigods, while others, such as Krishna, Vishnu, or Ramachandra, are forms displaying various pastimes of the Supreme Being.

      Some people, however, do not believe that God has a form. But many verses in the Puranas and particularly the Brahma- samhita establish that the Supreme Being does have specific forms according to His pastimes. These texts also describe His variegated features, which include His spiritual shape, characteristics, beauty, strength, intelligence, activities, etc. Therefore, it is considered that the authorized Deities of the Supreme that are shaped according to these descriptions provide a view of the personal form of God.

      Those who have no knowledge of God or His form will certainly consider the temple Deities as idols. But this is because they think that the Deities are simply the products of someone's imagination. Of course, there are those who say that God has no form, spiritual or material, or that there is no Supreme Being. Others think that since God must be formless, they can imagine or worship any material form as God, or they regard any image as merely an external representations of the Supreme. But images such as those of the demigods are not additional forms of an impersonal God, nor are they equal to God. All such people who think in the above mentioned ways have resorted to their own imagination to reach such conclusions and are, therefore, idolaters. The imaginary images and opinions of God that are formed by those who have not properly learned about, seen, or realized God are indeed idols, and those who accept such images or opinions are certainly idolaters. This is because these images or opinions are based on ignorance and are not a true likeness of the Supreme Being's personal form.

      Nonetheless, God is described in the Vedic literature, which explains that God is sat-chit-ananda vigraha , or the form of complete spiritual essence, full of eternity, knowledge, and bliss, and is not material in any way. His body, soul, form, qualities, names, pastimes, etc., are all nondifferent and are of the same spiritual quality. This form of God is not an idol designed from someone's imagination, but is the true form, even if He should descend into this material creation. And since the spiritual nature of God is absolute, He is nondifferent from His name. Thus, the name Krishna is an avatara or incarnation of Krishna in the form of sound. Similarly, His form in the temple is not merely a representation, but is also qualitatively the same as Krishna as the archa-vigraha, or the worshipable form.

      Some people may question that if the Deity is made from material elements, such as stone, marble, metal, wood, or paint, how can it be the spiritual form of God? The answer is given that since God is the source of all material and spiritual energies, material elements are also a form of God. Therefore, God can manifest as the Deity in the temple, though made of stone or other elements, since He can transform what is spiritual into material energy, and material energy back into spiritual energy. Thus, the Deity can easily be accepted as the Supreme since He can appear in any element as He chooses. In this way, even though we may be unqualified to see God, who is beyond the perceptibility of our material senses, the living beings in this material creation are allowed to see and approach the Supreme through His archa-vigraha form as the worshipable Deity in the temple. This is considered His causeless mercy on the materially conditioned living beings.

      In this manner, the Supreme Being gives Himself to His devotees so they can become absorbed in serving, remembering and meditating on Him. Thus, the Supreme comes to dwell in the temple, and the temple becomes the spiritual abode on earth. In time, the body, mind and senses of the devotee become spiritualized by serving the Deity, and the Supreme becomes fully manifest to him or her. Worshiping the Deity of the Supreme and using one's senses in the process of bhakti-yoga, devotional service to the Supreme, provides a means for one's true essential spiritual nature to unfold. The devotee becomes spiritually realized and the Deities reveal Their spiritual nature to the sincere souls according to their spiritual development. This can continue up to the level in which the Supreme Being in the form of the Deity engages in a personal relationship and performs reciprocal, loving pastimes with the devotee, as has previously taken place with other advanced individuals.

      At this stage, having darshan or seeing the Deity is not simply a matter of looking at the Deity in the temple, but to one who is spiritually realized it is a matter of experiencing the Deity and entering into a personal, reciprocal relationship with the Supreme Personality in the form of the Deity. At that stage, you may view the Deity, but the Deity also gazes at you, and then there is a spiritual exchange wherein the Deity begins to reveal His personality to you. This is what separates those who are experienced from those who are not, or those who can delve into this spiritual exchange and those who may still be trying to figure it out. For those who have experienced such an exchange with the Supreme or His Deity, at this stage the worship of the Supreme Being in the Deity moves up to a whole different level, with no limits as to the spiritual love that can be shared between the devotee and the Deity.


Tuesday, 28 June 2022

 

Where Do The Fallen Souls Fall From?

On learning that the material world is not our real home,
we naturally wonder, "How did we get here?" 

By Jayadvaita Swami 

WHEN WE HEAR that we live in this material world because we
are "fallen souls," it's natural for us to ask, "Where have
we fallen from?" 

Srila Prabhupada says that as living souls we are all
originally Krsna conscious. But what does that mean? Were
we all originally with Krsna in the spiritual world? And if
so, how could we ever have fallen? In Bhagavad-gita Lord
Krsna says, "Once you attain to that spiritual world, you
never fall." So how then could we have fallen from there to
begin with? 

Some have tried to work around this problem by suggesting a
different idea: We fell not from Krsna's personal abode but
from the brahmajyoti, the effulgent light that surrounds
it. As stated in Srimad-Bhagavatam, yogis who seek the
impersonal aspect of the Supreme may merge into that
effulgent light -- only to fall back later to the material
world. Perhaps, then, we originally fell from the
brahmajyoti. 

Srila Prabhupada rejected this idea. Those in the
brahmajyoti, he wrote, are not Krsna conscious, so they too
are fallen. "So there is no question of falling down from a
fallen condition. When fall takes place, it means falling
down from the non-fallen condition." 

Well, then, since we're called "eternally conditioned,"
eternally illusioned, perhaps we've never really fallen at
all -- we've just always been down. 

That idea, too, Srila Prabhupada rejected. "Eternally
conditioned," he explained, simply means that we've been
down so long that when we fell is no longer possible to
know. 

Srila Bhaktivinoda Thakura, three generations before Srila
Prabhupada in the line of spiritual teachers, put it this
way: "Please avoid the misleading question 'When were these
jivas [living beings] created and enthralled?' The Mayik
time has no existence in spiritual history, because it has
its commencement after the enthrallment of jivas, and you
cannot, therefore, employ Mayik chronology in matters like
these." 

  
"The Relationship is Eternal" 

Here, then, is how Srila Prabhupada described our original
state and the way we fall and leave it. 

"Constitutionally," he said in one letter, "every living
entity, even if he is in the Vaikunthaloka [the personal
spiritual abode of the Lord], has a chance of falling down.
Therefore the living entity is called marginal energy." 

"Usually," he explained, "anyone who has developed his
relationship with Krsna does not fall down in any
circumstance, but because the independence is always there,
the soul may fall down from any position or any
relationship by misuse of his independence." 

In another letter, Srila Prabhupada gave further insights.
"We are always with Krsna. Where is Krsna not present?" But
"when we forget this fact we are far, far away from Him. In
the Isopanisad it is clearly stated, tad dure tad v antike:
'He is very far away, but He is very near as well.'
(Isopanisad, Mantra Five). So this forgetfulness is our
falldown. 

It can take place at any moment, and we can counteract this
forgetfulness immediately by rising to the platform of
Krsna consciousness." 

Our relationship with Krsna is never lost, Srila Prabhupada
said. "Simply it is forgotten by the influence of maya. So
it may be regained or revived by the process of hearing the
holy name of Krsna, and then the devotee engages himself in
the service of the Lord which is his original or
constitutional position. The relationship of the living
entity with Krsna is eternal, as both Krsna and the living
entity are eternal; the process is one of revival only,
nothing new." 

In still another letter, Srila Prabhupada restated this in
yet another way: "We are all originally situated on the
platform of Krsna consciousness in our eternal personal
relationship of love of Krsna. But due to forgetfulness we
become familiar with the material world, or maya." But when
we chant the Hare Krsna mantra sincerely and without
offense, our original Krsna consciousness is at once
revived. "So naturally everything about Krsna is originally
known to us all, and as soon as we begin to associate with
the devotees of the Lord and chant His holy name, this
memory gradually becomes stronger as we remember our
constitutional position of always serving Krsna in
different ways." 

Our separation from Krsna, Srila Prabhupada taught, is like
a dream. We dream, "I am this body," and we dream of
happiness in material relationships. This dreaming
condition is our non-liberated state. But although this
state of dreaming may seem to last for lifetimes, as soon
as we become Krsna conscious we awaken, and the dream at
once disappears. "After millions and millions of years of
keeping oneself away from the lila [pastimes] of the Lord,
when one comes to Krsna consciousness this period becomes
insignificant, like dreaming." 

 
Don't Figure It Out -- Get Out 

Ultimately, Srila Prabhupada would stress, puzzling over
when we fell or where we fell from won't solve our problem.
"The conclusion is that whatever may be our past, let us
come to Krsna consciousness and immediately join Krsna." 

Again: "One should know he is in conditioned life and try
to cure it.... Forgetfulness of Krsna is the disease, so
let us keep ourselves always in Krsna consciousness and get
out of the disease. That is healthy life." 

Still again: "Rather than taking account of how things
happened that [we] came here, our best occupation is to get
out of the scene by constantly chanting Hare Krsna and
being engaged in the transcendental service of Lord Krsna."

The advice is clear enough. But still the intellect hangs
on, trying to figure out what can't be figured out. So we
delve into books to find out what was taught by other great
acaryas (spiritual teachers) of the past. And what do we
find? Different teachers -- all Krsna conscious -- seem to
express different views. So then what? We take sides with
one view or another, or simply become confused. Our mental
circuits start to burn out. 

Srila Prabhupada's spiritual master, Srila Bhaktisiddhanta
Sarasvati Thakura, therefore gave this advice. We should
avoid, he said, "vain empirical wranglings," which he
called "false and full of specious verbosity." He reminds
us, "What the unalloyed devotee of the Supreme Lord says is
all true and is independent of any consideration of
unwholesome pros and cons." 

When such pure devotees disagree, he says, there is "the
element of mystery in their verbal controversies." And
"those whose judgment is made of mundane stuff" can't
"enter into the spirit of the all-loving controversies
among pure devotees." Lacking pure devotion, such people
"are apt to impute to the devotees their own defects of
partisanship and opposing views." Therefore, he counsels,
whenever such disputes arise about the pastimes of the
Lord, we should remember what was taught by Lord Caitanya
Mahaprabhu and His associates the Gosvamis, "that the Truth
Absolute is ever characterized by spiritual variegatedness
that transcends the variegatedness of mundane phenomena;
but He is never featureless." 

Endless Arguments: Maya's Trick 

The Mahabharata tells us that we can't know the truth
simply by logic and arguments (tarko 'pratistah). Acintyah
khalu ye bhava na tams tarkena yojayet: "There's no use
arguing over that which is inconceivable." After all, it's
inconceivable. 

Sripada B.R. Sridhara Maharaja, one of Srila Prabhupada's
Godbrothers, respected for his deep philosophical
realization, used to stress the same point, one of his
followers told us. Repeatedly asked about where the living
beings fell from, Sripada Sridhara Maharaja grew weary of
the question. "Why do you always ask about the most
difficult thing to understand?" he once responded. "Why not
try to understand the most easy thing?" That is: how to
become Krsna conscious and go back to Godhead. 

Pure devotees of Krsna avoid endless arguments. Such
devotees know that such arguments are merely another
distraction offered by maya. As stated in Srimad-Bhagavatam
( 6.4.31): 

yac-chaktayo vadatam vadinam vai

vivada-samvada-bhuvo bhavanti

kurvanti caisam muhur atma-moham

tasmai namo 'nanta-gunaya bhumne 

"Let me offer my respectful obeisances unto the
all-pervading Supreme Personality of Godhead, who has
unlimited transcendental qualities. Acting from within the
cores of the hearts of all philosophers, who propagate
various views, He makes them forget their own souls while
sometimes agreeing and sometimes disagreeing among
themselves. Thus He creates within this material world a
situation in which they are unable to come to a conclusion.
I offer my obeisances unto Him." 

Therefore, the student in transcendental science is best
advised to simply accept what has been accepted by his own
bona fide Krsna conscious acarya, or spiritual master. As
Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati Thakura says, "It is a
great offense to disrespect the acarya and to seek to
establish a different doctrine in opposition to him." 

 
The Crow-and-Fruit Philosophy 

To illustrate the uselessness of arguing about where the
soul fell from, Srila Prabhupada once gave the example of
the crow and the fruit of an Indian palm, the tal fruit. On
the top of a tree was a nice tal fruit. A crow went there
and the fruit fell down. Some learned scholars saw this and
began discussing. The fruit fell because the crow shook the
limb, one said. No, said another, as the crow was landing
the fruit happened to fall. This frightened the crow, so
the crow flew away. No, said a third, the fruit was ripe,
and the weight of the crow's landing broke the fruit from
the branch.... 

"What is the use of such discussion?" Srila Prabhupada
said. 

Whether we came from Krsna's pastimes or from some other
spiritual source, Srila Prabhupada said, "at the present
you are in neither. So the best policy is to develop your
Krsna consciousness and go there [to Krsna], never mind
what is your origin." 

"At the present moment you are in maya's clutches," he
wrote, "so our only hope is to become Krsna conscious and
go back to home, back to Godhead." 

Don't waste time with the crow-and-tal-fruit logic, Srila
Prabhupada advised. "Now the fruit is there. Take it and
enjoy." 

NOTE: The letters from Srila Prabhupada quoted in this
article appear at greater length in Srila Prabhupada
Siksamrta, Volume Two, pages 1157–1176. The quotations from
Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati Thakura come from his
commentary on Sri Brahma-samhita. The quotation from Srila
Bhaktivinoda Thakura comes from Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu --
His Life and Precepts.

Tuesday, 31 August 2021

 

Honoring Prasadam: Four of Srila Prabhupada’s Favorite Recipes

By:  on Aug. 21, 2021
Lifestyle

Srila Prabhupada honoring prasadam.

This year, ISKCON is celebrating the 125th birth anniversary of its Founder-Acharya His Divine Grace A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, born in 1896 in Calcutta.

Among his many contributions, Srila Prabhupada taught his disciples how to prepare food with love for Krishna, or God, and how to offer it to the Lord and accept the sanctified food as “prasadam,” meaning “mercy.” Under Prabhupada’s direction and inspiration, there are now around 110 restaurants serving pure vegetarian cuisine in the form of prasadam around the world, and Food For Life global charities feed millions daily.

For Srila Prabhupada, prasadam was a spiritual practice. “It’s the beginning of our spiritual lives,” says Srutirupa Dasi, who served as Prabhupada’s cook, assisting Palika Dasi, from 1975 to 1977. “Not only does it purify us, but it’s a complete meditation -- the shopping, the cooking, the offering, and then the eating. It all goes together.”

She explains how Prabhupada honored prasadam, giving his full attention to Krishna’s mercy without the common distractions many are used to such as watching TV, driving, or chatting while eating: “Srila Prabhupada ate in silence, and he ate alone. It wasn’t eating, he was actually relishing. He was meditating on each dish. He saw Krishna in everything.”

One of the most important elements of cooking in Krishna consciousness is the idea that we are cooking for God, not for ourselves, and hence cooking for Krishna helps us develop love for Him. “Prabhupada said, ‘We cook what Krishna likes,’” Srutirupa explains. “And he would tell us, ‘I like what Krishna likes.’”

With that in mind, here are four of Srila Prabhupada’s favorite prasadam dishes (scroll to the bottom for the full recipes and cooking directions).

1.     Kachoris

pea kachoris

Kachoris

Kachoris, fried spicy pastries filled with urad dahl or vegetables, are famously beloved by Srila Prabhupada. He was so fond of them that growing up as a little boy in Calcutta, his nickname was Kachori-mukhi, meaning Kachori Face. According to the stories he told later, his mother and grandmother would constantly make him kachoris, which he would keep in the many pockets of his vest. He liked to watch the vendors cooking on the busy roadside, and would accept kachoris from them and also from his neighbors, until all his inside and outside vest pockets were filled.

Much later, while Prabhupada was visiting Wardha, Maharashatra in December 1976 for a Gita Conference, Srutirupa Dasi made fresh pea kachoris for him. It was her very first time cooking the dish. “Srila Prabhupada got up from his seat, turned to me, and said, ‘The kachoris are first class,” she recalls. “Then he turned before he went into the bathroom, and repeated, ‘The kachoris were first class.” Then he came out of the bathroom and raised his finger, and said, “The kachoris were first class!” I thought I had arrived!”

2.      Shukta

According to Srutirupa, shukta, a Bengali bitter vegetable dish made with karela or neem leaves, was daily fare for Srila Prabhupada on his lunch thali. “As soon as he sat down, he would say, ‘where is the bitter?’ she recalls. “That was the very first thing he would take, because it’s an Ayurvedic principle that you begin a meal with a bitter dish, which tells the stomach to start producing digestive enzymes.”

While staying at ISKCON Juhu in Bombay in 1974, Srila Prabhupada could be seen on the roof of his residence, cutting karela up and letting it sun dry. “He would take it with him in his suitcase to travel, because he always had to have it on a daily basis,” Srutirupa says. “He would either eat it fried, as chips, or have it in a shukta.”

Srila Prabhupada eating at Radha Damodar

Srila Prabhupada honoring prasadam in his rooms at Radha Damodar in Vrndavan. This scene is typical of how he would eat alone; here, he is looking out at Rupa Goswami's samadhi.

3.     Chidwa

Srila Prabhupada absolutely loved chidwa, a snack made with fried flat rice and shredded potatoes, along with peanuts, raisins and spices. Srutirupa recalls how Palika Dasi would serve it to him for breakfast. One morning after breakfast, Srila Prabhupada told his servant, “This chidwa is killing me,” a phrase he used freely when a dish was not so good for his health.

The next day, Palika did not put the usual chidwa on his plate. As soon as he sat down to breakfast, Prabhupada asked, “Where is my chidwa?” Palika replied, “Srila Prabhupada, it was brought to my attention that you said the chidwa was making you sick.” Nevertheless, he requested her to bring it immediately, and upon receiving the dish, he joked with a smile, “What can I do? It is too good – I can’t stop eating it!”

4.     Almond Sandesh

Almond sandesh

Almond sandesh. Credit: ISKCON Desire Tree

When it came to sweets, Srila Prabhupada loved hot jalebis, rasgullas, and gulabjamuns; but it was the silky smooth milk sweet sandesh that was on his breakfast plate every day while Srutirupa was cooking for him.

“His favorite was almond sandesh,” Srutirupa says. “He called it badam, which means almond in Bengali. Sandesh is a Bengali sweet, so it's something that he was used to growing up with.”

Srila Prabhupada would sometimes ask his cook to leave some sandesh in a jar in case he got hungry at night while translating his books. While in India, he would also ask a disciple to go out and purchase milk sweets such as sandesh, which he would pass out to guests.

“Prabhupada had guests come to his room every evening,” says Srutirupa. “Nobody left without prasadam.”

And what better to offer them than sandesh? “Sandesh is considered the king of Bengali sweets,” Srutirupa explains. “It's simple, but it's actually a very elegant confection. And it’s quick and easy to make.”

***

Recipes

Prabhupada honoring prasad in mango grove

Srila Prabhupada eating breakfast in the mango grove on his last trip from Mayapur to Calcutta in 1977. Srutirupa Dasi, in the white sari with the red border, is preparing his breakfast.

Pea Kachoris

Recipe by Yamuna Devi, from Lord Krishna’s Cuisine

Ingredients:

2 cups (235 grm) unbleached white flour

1 teaspoon salt (5ml)

1/8 teaspoon sugar (0.5)

4 Tablespoons (60ml) ghee or unsalted butter, softened

7-9 Tablespoons (105-135ml) ice water

1 2/3 cups (400 ml) new peas or frozen baby peas, steamed

1 Tablespoon (15 ml) ghee or unsalted butter

2-3 hot green chilies, seeded and minced

1-inch (2.5 cm) piece of scraped, minced fresh ginger root

¼ teaspoon (1ml) yellow asafetida powder (hing0

1 teaspoon (5ml) garam masala

½ Tablespoon (2ml) lemon juice

1/8 teaspoon (0.5 ml) baking soda

1 teaspoon of sugar

Ghee for deep-frying

 

1. Blend the flour, salt, and sugar in a mixing bowl. Add the softened ghee or butter and rub it in with your fingertips until is fully incorporated and the mixture resembles coarse breadcrumbs. Add a scant ½ cup (120 ml) of ice water and quickly work the ingredients to moisten the flour evenly until it can be gathered into a rough dough. If necessary, add the remaining water or as needed to make a non-sticky, kneadable soft dough. Knead on a clean surface for about 8 minutes or until the dough is smooth and pliable. Shape it into a ball, wrap with plastic and set aside in a cool nook to rest for ½ hour -1 hour while making the stuffing. (The dough can be made up to 2 days in advance, well-sealed and refrigerated. Bring it to room temperature before shaping and stuffing the kachoris.)

Alternately, fit a food processor with the metal blade, combine the flour, salt and sugar and process until mixed. Add the softened ghee or butter and pulse about 10 times or until fully incorporated. With the motor running, slowly pour in a scant ½ cup (120 ml) of ice water and process until the dough forms a ball. Remove it, shape it into a ball, wrap in plastic and set aside in a cool place while making the stuffing.

2. Place the peas in a bowl and mash with a fork until pulpy. Heat the 1 tablespoon (15ml) ghee or butter in a heavy nonstick frying pan over moderate heat. Add the green chilies and ginger and fry for about ½ minute, then follow with the asafetida. After frying for 5 seconds add the peas, garam masala, lemon juice, baking soda and sugar and stir-fry for about a minute. Remove the pan from the heat and cool to room temperature. Divide the stuffing into 18 portions.

3. Divide the dough in half and roll each piece into a log about 9 inches (22.5 cm) long.  Cut both to yield 18 pieces. Shape each piece into a smooth patty and set them aside on a plate, without touching. Cover with a damp towel or plastic wrap. Working with one piece of dough at a time, flatten it into a 2 ½ -inch (6.5 cm) patty. Gently press around the edges with your thumb and forefinger to thin slightly. Place a portion of stuffing in the center of the dough, then bring the sides of the dough over the filling to enclose it completely. Pinch the seams together until thoroughly sealed and smooth. With the pastry resting in the right palm, seam side up, press it with the heel of your left hand and flatten into a 2 ¼ -inch (6 cm) patty, about ½ inch (1.5 cm) thick. (Try to avoid thin spots in the pastry casing, for they easily burst during drying. This allows oil to enter the kachori, which makes it heavy and greasy.) Place the pastry, seam side down, on a baking tray and cover with plastic wrap or a moist towel. Shape and stuff the remaining pieces.

4. Slowly heat 2 ½ inches (6.5 cm) of ghee to 300 F (150 C) in a 10-12 -inch (25-30 cm) karai (wok) or sauté pan over moderately low heat. Slip in 9 pastries, seam side down. The ghee will automatically fall to about 225 F (107 C). Slowly fry the pastries for 24-27 minutes or until they sound hollow when tapped and turn a pale gold color. They should be delicately blistered and crisp. Use a wooden spoon for turning the delicate pastries (even chopsticks, if you are adept at using them). Remove them with a slotted spoon and drain on paper towels. Keep warm in a 250F  (120 C) oven while frying the remaining pastries. Kachoris may be made several hours ahead and reheated, uncovered in a 350 F (180 C) oven for 10 minutes.

 

Shukta

Recipe by Yamuna Devi, from Lord Krishna’s Cuisine

Ingredients:

4 Tablespoons (60 ml) white poppy seeds

½ Tablespoon (7 ml) mustard seeds

2/3 cup (160 ml) water

2 small green bitter melon, (2 ounces / 60 grm each) or 25 slices of dried bitter melon 1/8 – ¼ inch (3-6 mm) thick

1 Tablespoon (15 ml) salt

½ - inch (1.5 cm) piece of fresh ginger

1-2 hot green chilies, seeded

3 Tablespoons (45 ml) chopped fresh coriander

1/3 cup of cream or half & half

Ghee for deep frying

 

3 medium sized potatoes (about ¾ pound / 340grm), peeled and cut into 1-inch (2.5 cm) cubes

1 medium sized yam, sweet potato (about ½ pound / 230 grm), peeled and cut into ¾ - inch (2cm) cubes

2 white icicle salad radishes or peeled carrots, cut on the diagonal into ½ -inch (1.5 cm) slices

2 small Japanese eggplants (about 6 ounces / 170 grm), cut into 1 -inch (2.5 cm) cubes

1 ½ cups (360 ml) green beans cut into 2-inch (5 cm) pieces (about 8 ounces / 230 grm), steamed until half cooked

4 Tablespoons (60 ml) ghee or a mixture of vegetable oil and unsalted butter

1 teaspoon (5ml) panch puran

2 ½ cups (600 ml) water or vegetable stock

1 teaspoon (5ml) garam masala

 

1. Combine the white poppy seeds, black mustard seeds and 2/3 cup (160 ml) in a small bowl, cover and set aside for at least 4 hours or overnight.

2. Place the fresh bitter melon slices in a bowl and sprinkle with 1 teaspoon (5ml) of the salt. Toss and set aside for at least 20 minutes. Rinse with fresh water drain and pat thoroughly dry with paper towels.

3. Place the soaked seeds and soaking water in a blender or food processor fitted with a metal blade. Cover and process for 1 minute. Add the ginger, chilies and 1 Tablespoon (15ml) of the coriander and process until smooth. Strain through a fine sieve placed over a bowl contaiing the cream or half and half. Blend with the popy seed mixture and set aside.

4.  Pour ghee or oil to a depth of 2 inches (5 cm) into a deep-frying pan over moderate heat. When the temperature reaches 360 F (180 C) on a deep frying thermometer, separately fry batches of bitter melons, potatoes, yam, radishes or carrots and eggplant, until the vegetables are nearly tender and golden brown. Remove each batch with a large, slotted spoon and set aside on paper towels to drain. Take the pan off the heat.

5. Heat 4 Tablespoon (60 ml) of ghee or an oil-butter mixture in a 4 quart / liter saucepan over moderate heat. When it is hot but not smoking, add the panch puran and fry until the fenugreek seeds turn golden brown. Pour ina bout 1/3 cup (60 ml) of the poppy seed cream mixture and fry, stirring, until absorbed into the ghee or oil. Continue adding the mixture in ¼ cup (60 ml) portions, stirring, until it is all accepted into the ghee or oil. Ad the water or stock slowly and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to low and simmer, stirring occasionally, for 10 minutes.

6. Add all of the vegetables, the remaining 2 teaspoons (10 ml), salt and the garam masala. Gently stir, cover and reduce the heat to the lowest possible setting. Cook very gently for 10-15 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat and allow the dish to rest for 10 minutes before serving. Garnish with the remaining fresh herb.

 

Chidwa

Recipe by Yamuna Devi, from Lord Krishna’s Cuisine

Ingredients:

½ teaspoon (2ml) turmeric

½ teaspoon (1.5 ml) cayenne pepper

1 ¼ teaspoon salt

1 Tablespoon (15ml) powdered rock candy or maple sugar

2/3 cup (95grm) peanuts

½ cup (70grm) raisins

1 ¼ cups (75grm) thick flat rice (poha)

1 Tablespoon (15ml) fennel seeds

½ Tablespoon (7ml) cumin seeds

1 large baking potato (8 ounces/230grm), peeled, coarsely shredded, soaked 1 hour in ice water, drained and patted dry

2 hot green chilies, halved, seeded and cut into long thin strips

Nut or vegetable oil for deep-frying

 

1. Combine the turmeric, cayenne, salt and sweetener in a bowl. And mix. Arrange mounds of peanuts, raisins, flat rice, fennel seeds, cumin seeds, shredded potatoes and chilies near the frying area. Line two large baking trays with several thickness of paper towels and keep nearby.

2. heat oil to a depth of 2 ½ inches (6.5cm) in a karai, work or deep-frying pan over moderately high heat until the temperature reaches 375 F (190 C). (Do not fill the pan over half-full). Drop in a handful of shredded potatoes, stir with a knife and fry until crisp and golden brown. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain on paper towels. Fry the remaining potatoes in the same way.

3. Reduce the heat slightly and allow the temperature to drop to 360 F (180 C). Place a handful of flat rice in a wire-mesh strainer and lower it into the hot oil. The oil will immediately froth and then within a minute, settle: the flat rice is finished when crisp abut not brown. Remove the strainer shake off the excess oil and place on paper towels to drain. Fry the remaining flat rice in this way.

4. One after another, fry each of the ingredients in batches, placing them in the strainer, then in the oil and frying until crisp and golden brown. (The raisins should be fried only until they plump.) Drain on paper towels. Combine all of the ingredients in a large bowl. While warm, sprinkle with the seasoning mixture. Cool to room temperature before storing in airtight containers.

 

Almond Sandesh

Recipe by Yamuna Devi, from Lord Krishna’s Cuisine

Ingredients:

Freshly made chenna cheese (page 315 of Lord Krishna’s Cuisine) made from 2 quarts of whole milk

1/3-1/2 cup (70 – 110grm) of superfine sugar

2/3 cup (100 grm) blanched whole almonds, powdered or finely ground

 

1. Unwrap the pressed chenna cheese and transfer it to a clean countertop, thoroughly blend in the sugar, and bray the cheese until it is without a touch of graininess. Add the ground almonds and mix in thoroughly.

2. Place a heavy-bottomed pan over the lowest possible heat, add the cheese and stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, cook for 10-15 minutes or until the surface becomes slightly glossy and the texture is slightly thickened. (The cheese will continue to firm up as it cools.)

3. Scrape the Sandesh onto a buttered tray and press it out into a 3 x 5 inch (7.5 x 10cm) smooth rectangle. When thoroughly cool, chill for ½ hour. With a sharp knife, cut it into 3 strip 5 inches (12.5 cm) long and 1 ¼ inches (3.5cm ) wide. Then cut diagonally across the strips in alternate directions to make 6 small triangles per strip. Mold the trimmings by hand into triangles.

4. When completely cool, store in single layers separate with parchment or waxed paper, in an airtight storage container. Refrigerated they may be kept for up to 4 days. 

Monday, 23 August 2021

 

 

 


 

 

 

  These excerpts have been taken from Satswarup dasa Goswami’s Prabhupada-lilamrita ch 11-12.

   With the manuscript for Volume Three complete and with the money to print it, Bhaktivedanta Swami once again entered the printing world, purchasing paper, correcting proofs, and keeping the printer on schedule so that the book would be finished by January 1965. Thus, by his persistence, he who had almost no money of his own managed to publish his third large hardbound volume within a little more than two years. At this rate, with his respect in the scholarly world increasing, he might soon become a recognized figure amongst his countrymen. But he had his vision set on the West. And with the third volume now printed, he felt he was at last prepared. He was sixty-nine and would have to go soon. It had been more than forty years since Shrila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati had first asked a young householder in Calcutta to preach Krishna consciousness in the West. At first it had seemed impossible to Abhay Charan, who had so recently entered family responsibilities. That obstacle, however, had long ago been removed, and for more than ten years he had been free to travel. But he had been penniless (and still was). And he had wanted first to publish some volumes of Shrimad-Bhagavatam to take with him; it had seemed necessary if he were to do something solid. Now, by Krishna’s grace, three volumes were on hand.

   Shrila Prabhupada: I planned that I must go to America. Generally they go to London, but I did not want to go to London. I was simply thinking how to go to New York. I was scheming, “Whether I shall go this way, through Tokyo, Japan, or that way? Which way is cheaper?” That was my proposal. And I was targeting to New York always. Sometimes I was dreaming that I have come to New York.

Then Bhaktivedanta Swami met Mr. Agarwal, a Mathura businessman, and mentioned to him in passing, as he did to almost everyone he met, that he wanted to go to the West. Although Mr. Agarwal had known Bhaktivedanta Swami for only a few minutes, he volunteered to try to get him a sponsor in America. It was something Mr. Agarwal had done a number of times; when he met a sadhu who mentioned something about going abroad to teach Hindu culture, he would ask his son Gopal, an engineer in Pennsylvania, to send back a sponsorship form. When Mr. Agarwal volunteered to help in this way, Bhaktivedanta Swami urged him please to do so.

   Shrila Prabhupada: I did not say anything seriously to Mr. Agarwal, but perhaps he took it very seriously. I asked him, “Well, why don’t you ask your son Gopal to sponsor so that I can go there? I want to preach there.” But Bhaktivedanta Swami knew he could not simply dream of going to the West; he needed money. In March 1965 he made another visit to Bombay, attempting to sell his books. Again he stayed at the free dharmasala, Premkutir. But finding customers was difficult. He met Paramananda Bhagwani, a librarian at Jai Hind College, who purchased books for the college library and then escorted Bhaktivedanta Swami to a few likely outlets.

Mr. Bhagwani: I took him to the Popular Book Depot at Grant Road to help him in selling books, but they told us they couldn’t stock the books because they don’t have much sales on religion. Then we went to another shop nearby, and the owner also regretted his inability to sell the books. Then he went to Sadhuvela, near Mahalakshmi temple, and we met the head of the temple there. He, of course, welcomed us. They have a library of their own, and they stock religious books, so we approached them to please keep a set there in their library. They are a wealthy asrama, and yet he also expressed his inability.

   Bhaktivedanta Swami returned to Delhi, pursuing the usual avenues of bookselling and looking for whatever opportunity might arise. And to his surprise, he was contacted by the Ministry of External Affairs and informed that his No Objection certificate for going to the U.S. was ready. Since he had not instigated any proceedings for leaving the country, Bhaktivedanta Swami had to inquire from the ministry about what had happened. They showed him the Statutory Declaration Form signed by Mr. Gopal Agarwal of Butler, Pennsylvania; Mr. Agarwal solemnly declared that he would bear the expenses of Bhaktivedanta Swami during his stay in the U.S.

   Shrila Prabhupada: Whatever the correspondence was there between the father and son, I did not know. I simply asked him, “Why don’t you ask your son Gopal to sponsor?” And now, after three or four months, the No Objection certificate was sent from the Indian Consulate in New York to me. He had already sponsored my arrival there for one month, and all of a sudden I got the paper.

At his father’s request, Gopal Agarwal had done as he had done for several other sadhus, none of whom had ever gone to America. It was just a formality, something to satisfy his father. Gopal had requested a form from the Indian Consulate in New York, obtained a statement from his employer certifying his monthly salary, gotten a letter from his bank showing his balance as of April 1965, and had the form notarized. It had been stamped and approved in New York and sent to Delhi. Now Bhaktivedanta Swami had a sponsor. But he still needed a passport, visa, P-form, and travel fare.

The passport was not very difficult to obtain. Krishna Pandit helped, and by June 10 he had his passport. Carefully, he penned in his address at the Radha-Krishna temple in Chippiwada and wrote his father’s name, Gour Mohan De. He asked Krishna Pandit also to pay for his going abroad, but Krishna Pandit refused, thinking it against Hindu principles for a sadhu to go abroad—and also very expensive.

   With his passport and sponsorship papers, Bhaktivedanta Swami went to Bombay, not to sell books or raise funds for printing; he wanted a ticket for America. Again he tried approaching Sumati Morarji. He showed his sponsorship papers to her secretary, Mr. Choksi, who was impressed and who went to Mrs. Morarji on his behalf. “The Swami from Vrindavana is back,” he told her. “He has published his book on your donation. He has a sponsor, and he wants to go to America. He wants you to send him on a Scindia ship.” Mrs. Morarji said no, the Swamiji was too old to go to the United States and expect to accomplish anything. As Mr. Choksi conveyed to him Mrs. Morarji’s words, Bhaktivedanta Swami listened disapprovingly. She wanted him to stay in India and complete the Shrimad-Bhagavatam. Why go to the States? Finish the job here.

But Bhaktivedanta Swami was fixed on going. He told Mr. Choksi that he should convince Mrs. Morarji. He coached Mr. Choksi on what he should say: “I find this gentleman very inspired to go to the States and preach something to the people there…” But when he told Mrs. Morarji, she again said no. The Swami was not healthy. It would be too cold there. He might not be able to come back, and she doubted whether he would be able to accomplish much there. People in America were not so cooperative, and they would probably not listen to him. Exasperated with Mr. Choksi’s ineffectiveness, Bhaktivedanta Swami demanded a personal interview. It was granted, and a gray-haired, determined Bhaktivedanta Swami presented his emphatic request: “Please give me one ticket.”

Sumati Morarji was concerned. “Swamiji, you are so old—you are taking this responsibility. Do you think it is all right?”

   “No,” he reassured her, lifting his hand as if to reassure a doubting daughter, “it is all right.” “But do you know what my secretaries think? They say, “Swamiji is going to die there.’”

Bhaktivedanta made a face as if to dismiss a foolish rumor. Again he insisted that she give him a ticket. “All right,” she said. “Get your P-form, and I will make an arrangement to send you by our ship.” Bhaktivedanta Swami smiled brilliantly and happily left her offices, past her amazed and skeptical clerks. A “P-form”—another necessity for an Indian national who wants to leave the country—is a certificate given by the State Bank of India, certifying that the person has no excessive debts in India and is cleared by the banks. That would take a while to obtain. And he also did not yet have a U.S. visa. He needed to pursue these government permissions in Bombay, but he had no place to stay. So Mrs. Morarji agreed to let him reside at the Scindia Colony, a compound of apartments for employees of the Scindia Company.

   He stayed in a small, unfurnished apartment with only his trunk and typewriter. The resident Scindia employees all knew that Mrs. Morarji was sending him to the West, and some of them became interested in his cause. They were impressed, for although he was so old, he was going abroad to preach. He was a special sadhu, a scholar. They heard from him how he was taking hundreds of copies of his books with him, but no money. He became a celebrity at the Scindia Colony. Various families brought him rice, sabji, and fruit. They brought so much that he could not eat it all, and he mentioned this to Mr. Choksi. Just accept it and distribute it, Mr. Choksi advised. Bhaktivedanta Swami then began giving remnants of his food to the children. Some of the older residents gathered to hear him as he read and spoke from Shrimad-Bhagavatam. Mr. Vasavada, the chief cashier of Scindia, was particularly impressed and came regularly to learn from the sadhu. Mr. Vasavada obtained copies of Bhaktivedanta Swami’s books and read them in his home.

Bhaktivedanta Swami’s apartment shared a roofed-in veranda with Mr. Nagarajan, a Scindia office worker, and his wife.

   Mrs. Nagarajan: Every time when I passed that way, he used to be writing or chanting. I would ask him, “Swamiji, what are you writing?” He used to sit near the window and one after another was translating the Sanskrit. He gave me two books and said, “Child, if you read this book, you will understand.” We would have discourses in the house, and four or five Gujarati ladies used to come. At one of these discourses he told one lady that those who wear their hair parted on the side—that is not a good idea. Every Indian lady should have her hair parted in the center. They were very fond of listening and very keen to hear his discourse.

Every day he would go out trying to get his visa and P-form as quickly as possible, selling his books, and seeking contacts and supporters for his future Shrimad-Bhagavatam publishing. Mr. Nagarajan tried to help. Using the telephone directory, he made a list of wealthy business and professional men who were Vaishnavas and might be inclined to assist. Bhaktivedanta Swami’s neighbors at Scindia Colony observed him coming home dead tired in the evening. He would sit quietly, perhaps feeling morose, some neighbors thought, but after a while he would sit up, rejuvenated, and start writing.

   Mrs. Nagarajan: When he came home we used to give him courage, and we used to tell him, “Swamiji, one day you will achieve your target.” He would say, “Time is still not right. Time is still not right. They are all ajnanis. They don’t understand. But still I must carry on.”

Sometimes I would go by, and his cadar would be on the chair, but he would be sitting on the windowsill. I would ask him, “Swamiji, did you have any good contacts?” He would say, “Not much today. I didn’t get much, and it is depressing. Tomorrow Krishna will give me more details.” And he would sit there quietly.

   After ten minutes, he would sit in his chair and start writing. I would wonder how Swamiji was so tired in one minute and in another minuten Even if he was tired, he was not defeated. He would never speak discouragement. And we would always encourage him and say, “If today you don’t get it, tomorrow you will definitely meet some people, and they will encourage you.” And my friends used to come in the morning and in the evening for discourse, and they would give namaskara and fruits.

Mr. Nagarajan: His temperament was very adjustable and homely. Our friends would offer a few rupees. He would say, “All right. It will help.” He used to walk from our colony to Andheri station. It is two kilometers, and he used to go there without taking a bus, because he had no money.

Bhaktivedanta Swami had a page printed entitled “My Mission,” and he would show it to influential men in his attempts to get further financing for Shrimad-Bhagavatam. The printed statement proposed that God consciousness was the only remedy for the evils of modern materialistic society. Despite scientific advancement and material comforts, there was no peace in the world; therefore, Bhagavad-gita and Shrimad-Bhagavatam, the glory of India, must be spread all over the world.

Mrs. Morarji asked Bhaktivedanta Swami if he would read Shrimad-Bhagavatam to her in the evening. He agreed. She began sending her car for him at six o’clock each evening, and they would sit in her garden, where he would recite and comment on the Bhagavatam.

   Mrs. Morarji: He used to come in the evening and sing the verses in rhythmic tunes, as is usually done with the Bhagavatam. And certain points—when you sit and discuss, you raise so many points—he was commenting on certain points, but it was all from the Bhagavatam. So he used to sit and explain to me and then go. He could give time, and I could hear him. That was for about ten or fifteen days.

His backing by Scindia and his sponsorship in the U.S. were a strong presentation, and with the help of the people at Scindia he obtained his visa on July 28, 1965. But the P-form proceedings went slowly and even threatened to be a last, insurmountable obstacle.

   Shrila Prabhupada: Formerly there was no restriction for going outside. But for a sannyasi like me, I had so much difficulty obtaining the government permission to go out. I had applied for the P-form sanction, but no sanction was coming. Then I went to the State Bank of India. The officer was Mr. Martarchari. He told me, “Swamiji, you are sponsored by a private man. So we cannot accept. If you were invited by some institution, then we could consider. But you are invited by a private man for one month. And after one month, if you are in difficulty, there will be so many obstacles.” But I had already prepared everything to go. So I said, “What have you done?” He said, “I have decided not to sanction your P-form.” I said, “No, no, don’t do this. You better send me to your superior. It should not be like that.”

   So he took my request, and he sent the file to the chief official of foreign exchange—something like that. So he was the supreme man in the State Bank of India. I went to see him. I asked his secretary, “Do you have such-and-such a file. You kindly put it to Mr. Rao. I want to see him.” So the secretary agreed, and he put the file, and he put my name down to see him. I was waiting. So Mr. Rao came personally. He said, “Swamiji, I passed your case. Don’t worry.”

Following Mrs. Morarji’s instruction, her secretary, Mr. Choksi, made final arrangements for Bhaktivedanta Swami. Since he had no warm clothes, Mr. Choksi took him to buy a wool jacket and other woolen clothes. Mr. Choksi spent about 250 rupees on new clothes, including some new dhotis. At Bhaktivedanta Swami’s request, Mr. Choksi printed five hundred copies of a small pamphlet containing the eight verses written by Lord Chaitanya and an advertisement for Shrimad-Bhagavatam, in the context of an advertisement for the Scindia Steamship Company.

   Mr. Choksi: I asked him, “Why couldn’t you go earlier? Why do you want to go now to the States, at this age?” He replied that, “I will be able to do something good, I am sure.” His idea was that someone should be there who would be able to go near people who were lost in life and teach them and tell them what the correct thing is. I asked him so many times, “Why do you want to go to the States? Why don’t you start something in Bombay or Delhi or Vrindavana?” I was teasing him also: “You are interested in seeing the States. Therefore, you want to go. All Swamijis want to go to the States, and you want to enjoy there.” He said, “What I have got to see? I have finished my life.”

But sometimes he was hot-tempered. He used to get angry at me for the delays. “What is this nonsense?” he would say. Then I would understand: he is getting angry now. Sometimes he would say, “Oh, Mrs. Morarji has still not signed this paper? She says come back tomorrow, we will talk tomorrow! What is this? Why this daily going back?” He would get angry. Then I would say, “You can sit here.” But he would say, “How long do I have to sit?” He would become impatient. Finally Mrs. Morarji scheduled a place for him on one of her ships, the Jaladuta, which was sailing from Calcutta on August 13. She had made certain that he would travel on a ship whose captain understood the needs of a vegetarian and a brahmana. Mrs. Morarji told the Jaladuta’s captain, Arun Pandia, to carry extra vegetables and fruits for the Swami. Mr. Choksi spent the last two days with Bhaktivedanta Swami in Bombay, picking up the pamphlets at the press, purchasing clothes, and driving him to the station to catch the train for Calcutta.

   He arrived in Calcutta about two weeks before the Jaladuta’s departure. Although he had lived much of his life in the city, he now had nowhere to stay. It was as he had written in his “Vrindavana-bhajana”: “I have my wife, sons, daughters, grandsons, everything, / But I have no money, so they are a fruitless glory.” Although in this city he had been so carefully nurtured as a child, those early days were also gone forever: “Where have my loving father and mother gone to now? / And where are all my elders, who were my own folk? / Who will give me news of them, tell me who? / All that is left of this family life is a list of names.”

   Out of the hundreds of people in Calcutta whom Bhaktivedanta Swami knew, he chose to call on Mr. Sisir Bhattacharya, the flamboyant kirtana singer he had met a year before at the governor’s house in Lucknow. Mr. Bhattacharya was not a relative, not a disciple, nor even a close friend; but he was willing to help. Bhaktivedanta Swami called at his place and informed him that he would be leaving on a cargo ship in a few days; he needed a place to stay, and he would like to give some lectures. Mr. Bhattacharya immediately began to arrange a few private meetings at friends’ homes, where he would sing and Bhaktivedanta Swami would then speak.

   Mr. Bhattacharya thought the sadhu’s leaving for America should make an important news story. He accompanied Bhaktivedanta Swami to all the newspapers in Calcutta—the Hindustan Standard, the Amrita Bazar Patrika, the Jugantas, the Statesman, and others. Bhaktivedanta Swami had only one photograph, a passport photo, and they made a few copies for the newspapers. Mr. Bhattacharya would try to explain what the Swami was going to do, and the news writers would listen. But none of them wrote anything. Finally they visited the Dainik Basumati, a local Bengali daily, which agreed to print a small article with Bhaktivedanta Swami’s picture.

   A week before his departure, on August 6, Bhaktivedanta Swami traveled to nearby Mayapur to visit the samadhi of Shrila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati. Then he returned to Calcutta, where Mr. Bhattacharya continued to assist him with his final business and speaking engagements. Mr. Bhattacharya: We just took a hired taxi to this place and that place. And he would go for preaching. I never talked to him during the preaching, but once when I was coming back from the preaching, I said, “You said this thing about this. But I tell you it is not this. It is this.” I crossed him in something or argued. And he was furious. Whenever we argued and I said, “No, I think this is this,” then he was shouting. He was very furious. He said, “You are always saying, “I think, I think, I think.’ What is the importance of what you think? Everything is what you think. But it doesn’t matter. It matters what sastra says. You must follow.” I said, “I must do what I think, what I feel—that is important.” He said, “No, you should forget this. You should forget your desire. You should change your habit. Better you depend on sastras. You follow what sastra wants you to do, and do it. I am not telling you what I think, but I am repeating what the sastra says.”

   As the day of his departure approached, Bhaktivedanta Swami took stock of his meager possessions. He had only a suitcase, an umbrella, and a supply of dry cereal. He did not know what he would find to eat in America; perhaps there would be only meat. If so, he was prepared to live on boiled potatoes and the cereal. His main baggage, several trunks of his books, was being handled separately by Scindia Cargo. Two hundred three-volume sets—the very thought of the books gave him confidence.

When the day came for him to leave, he needed that confidence. He was making a momentous break with his previous life, and he was dangerously old and not in strong health. And he was going to an unknown and probably unwelcoming country. To be poor and unknown in India was one thing. Even in these Kali-yuga days, when India’s leaders were rejecting Vedic culture and imitating the West, it was still India; it was still the remains of Vedic civilization. He had been able to see millionaires, governors, the prime minister, simply by showing up at their doors and waiting. A sannyasi was respected; the Shrimad-Bhagavatam was respected. But in America it would be different. He would be no one, a foreigner. And there was no tradition of sadhus, no temples, no free asramas. But when he thought of the books he was bringing—transcendental knowledge in English—he became confident. When he met someone in America he would give him a flyer: ““Shrimad Bhagwatam,’ India’s Message of Peace and Goodwill.”

   It was August 13, just a few days before Janmashtami, the appearance day anniversary of Lord Krishna—the next day would be his own sixty-ninth birthday. During these last years, he had been in Vrindavana for Janmashtami. Many Vrindavana residents would never leave there; they were old and at peace in Vrindavana. Bhaktivedanta Swami was also concerned that he might die away from Vrindavana. That was why all the Vaishnava sadhus and widows had taken vows not to leave, even for Mathura—because to die in Vrindavana was the perfection of life. And the Hindu tradition was that a sannyasi should not cross the ocean and go to the land of the mlecchas. But beyond all that was the desire of Shrila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati, and his desire was nondifferent from that of Lord Krishna. And Lord Chaitanya Mahaprabhu had predicted that the chanting of Hare Krishna would be known in every town and village of the world.

   Bhaktivedanta Swami took a taxi down to the Calcutta port. A few friends and admirers, along with his son Vrindavan, accompanied him. He writes in his diary: “Today at 9 a.m. embarked on M.V. Jaladuta. Came with me Bhagwati, the Dwarwan of Scindia Sansir, Mr. Sen Gupta, Mr. Ali and Vrindaban.” He was carrying a Bengali copy of Chaitanya-caritamrita, which he intended to read during the crossing. Somehow he would be able to cook on board. Or if not, he could starve— whatever Krishna desired. He checked his essentials: passenger ticket, passport, visa, P-form, sponsor’s address. Finally it was happening.

   Shrila Prabhupada: With what great difficulty I got out of the country! Some way or other, by Krishna’s grace, I got out so I could spread the Krishna consciousness movement all over the world. Otherwise, to remain in India—it was not possible. I wanted to start a movement in India, but I was not at all encouraged.

   The black cargo ship, small and weathered, was moored at dockside, a gangway leading from the dock to the ship’s deck. Indian merchant sailors curiously eyed the elderly saffron-dressed sadhu as he spoke last words to his companions and then left them and walked determinedly toward the boat.

For thousands of years, krishna-bhakti had been known only in India, not outside, except in twisted, faithless reports by foreigners. And the only swamis to have reached America had been nondevotees, Mayavadi impersonalists. But now Krishna was sending Bhaktivedanta Swami as His emissary.

 

SPL 12: The Journey to America

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Journey to America

 

    Today the ship is plying very smoothly. I feel today better. But I am feeling separation from Shri Vrindaban and my Lords Shri Govinda, Gopinath, Radha Damodar. My only solace is Shri Chaitanya Charitamrita in which I am tasting the nectarine of Lord Chaitanya’s lila. I have left Baharatabhumi just to execute the order of Shri Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati, in pursuance of Lord Chaitanya’s order. I have no qualification, but have taken up the risk just to carry out the order of His Divine Grace. I depend fully on Their mercy, so far away from Vrindaban.

—Jaladuta diary

September 10, 1965

   The Jaladuta is a regular cargo carrier of the Scindia Steam Navigation Company, but there is a passenger cabin aboard. During the voyage from Calcutta to New York in August and September of 1965, the cabin was occupied by “Shri Abhoy Charanaravinda Bhaktivedanta Swami,” whose age was listed as sixty-nine and who was taken on board bearing “a complimentary ticket with food.”

The Jaladuta, under the command of Captain Arun Pandia, whose wife was also aboard, left at 9:00 A.M. on Friday, August 13. In his diary, Shrila Prabhupada noted: “The cabin is quite comfortable, thanks to Lord Shri Krishna for enlightening Sumati Morarji for all these arrangements. I am quite comfortable.” But on the fourteenth he reported: “Seasickness, dizziness, vomiting—Bay of Bengal. Heavy rains. More sickness.”

   On the nineteenth, when the ship arrived at Colombo, Ceylon (now Shri Lanka), Prabhupada was able to get relief from his seasickness. The captain took him ashore, and he traveled around Colombo by car. Then the ship went on toward Cochin, on the west coast of India. Janmashtami, the appearance day of Lord Krishna, fell on the twentieth of August that year. Prabhupada took the opportunity to speak to the crew about the philosophy of Lord Krishna, and he distributed prasadam he had cooked himself. August 21 was his seventieth birthday, observed (without ceremony) at sea. That same day the ship arrived at Cochin, and Shrila Prabhupada’s trunks of Shrimad-Bhagavatam volumes, which had been shipped from Bombay, were loaded on board.

   By the twenty-third the ship had put out to the Red Sea, where Shrila Prabhupada encountered great difficulty. He noted in his diary: “Rain, seasickness, dizziness, headache, no appetite, vomiting.” The symptoms persisted, but it was more than seasickness. The pains in his chest made him think he would die at any moment. In two days he suffered two heart attacks. He tolerated the difficulty, meditating on the purpose of his mission, but after two days of such violent attacks he thought that if another were to come he would certainly not survive.

On the night of the second day, Prabhupada had a dream. Lord Krishna, in His many forms, was rowing a boat, and He told Prabhupada that he should not fear, but should come along. Prabhupada felt assured of Lord Krishna’s protection, and the violent attacks did not recur.

The Jaladuta entered the Suez Canal on September 1 and stopped in Port Sa’id on the second. Shrila Prabhupada visited the city with the captain and said that he liked it. By the sixth he had recovered a little from his illness and was eating regularly again for the first time in two weeks, having cooked his own kichari and puris. He reported in his diary that his strength renewed little by little.

   Thursday, September 9

To 4:00 this afternoon, we have crossed over the Atlantic Ocean for twenty-four hours. The whole day was clear and almost smooth. I am taking my food regularly and have got some strength to struggle. There is also a slight tacking of the ship and I am feeling a slight headache also. But I am struggling and the nectarine of life is Shri Chaitanya Charitamrita, the source of all my vitality.

   Friday, September 10

Today the ship is plying very smoothly. I feel today better. But I am feeling separation from Shri Vrindaban and my Lords Shri Govinda, Gopinath, Radha Damodar. The only solace is Shri Chaitanya Charitamrita in which I am tasting the nectarine of Lord Chaitanya’s lila [pastimes]. I have left Bharatabhumi just to execute the order of Shri Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati in pursuance of Lord Chaitanya’s order. I have no qualification, but have taken up the risk just to carry out the order of His Divine Grace. I depend fully on Their mercy, so far away from Vrindaban.

   During the voyage, Shrila Prabhupada sometimes stood on deck at the ship’s rail, watching the ocean and the sky and thinking of Chaitanya-caritamrita, Vrindavana-dhama, and the order of his spiritual master to go preach in the West. Mrs. Pandia, the captain’s wife, whom Shrila Prabhupada considered to be “an intelligent and learned lady,” foretold Shrila Prabhupada’s future. If he were to pass beyond this crisis in his health, she said, it would indicate the good will of Lord Krishna.

The ocean voyage of 1965 was a calm one for the Jaladuta. The captain said that never in his entire career had he seen such a calm Atlantic crossing. Prabhupada replied that the calmness was Lord Krishna’s mercy, and Mrs. Pandia asked Prabhupada to come back with them so that they might have another such crossing. Shrila Prabhupada wrote in his diary, “If the Atlantic would have shown its usual face, perhaps I would have died. But Lord Krishna has taken charge of the ship.”

   On September 13, Prabhupada noted in his diary: “Thirty-second day of journey. Cooked bati kichari. It appeared to be delicious, so I was able to take some food. Today I have disclosed my mind to my companion, Lord Shri Krishna. There is a Bengali poem made by me in this connection.”

This poem was a prayer to Lord Krishna, and it is filled with Prabhupada’s devotional confidence in the mission that he had undertaken on behalf of his spiritual master. An English translation of the opening stanzas follows:*

   I emphatically say to you, O brothers, you will obtain your good fortune from the Supreme Lord Krishna only when Shrimati Radharani becomes pleased with you.

Shri Shrimad Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati Thakura, who is very dear to Lord Gauranga [Lord Chaitanya], the son of mother Saci, is unparalleled in his service to the Supreme Lord Shri Krishna. He is that great, saintly spiritual master who bestows intense devotion to Krishna at different places throughout the world.

   By his strong desire, the holy name of Lord Gauranga will spread throughout all the countries of the Western world. In all the cities, towns, and villages on the earth, from all the oceans, seas, rivers, and streams, everyone will chant the holy name of Krishna.

As the vast mercy of Shri Chaitanya Mahaprabhu conquers all directions, a flood of transcendental ecstasy will certainly cover the land. When all the sinful, miserable living entities become happy, the Vaishnavas’ desire is then fulfilled.

   Although my Guru Maharaja ordered me to accomplish this mission, I am not worthy or fit to do it. I am very fallen and insignificant. Therefore, O Lord, now I am begging for Your mercy so that I may become worthy, for You are the wisest and most experienced of all…

   The poem ends:

Today that remembrance of You came to me in a very nice way. Because I have a great longing I called to You. I am Your eternal servant, and therefore I desire Your association so much. O Lord Krishna, except for You there is no means of success.

   In the same straightforward, factual manner in which he had noted the date, the weather, and his state of health, he now described his helpless dependence on his “companion, Lord Krishna,” and his absorption in the ecstasy of separation from Krishna. He described the relationship between the spiritual master and the disciple, and he praised his own spiritual master, Shri Shrimad Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati, “by whose strong desire the holy name of Lord Gauranga will spread throughout all the countries of the Western world.” He plainly stated that his spiritual master had ordered him to accomplish this mission of worldwide Krishna consciousness, and feeling unworthy he prayed to Lord Krishna for strength. The last verses give an unexpected, confidential glimpse into Shrila Prabhupada’s direct relationship with Lord Krishna. Prabhupada called on Krishna as his “dear friend” and longed for the joy of again wandering the fields of Vraja. This memory of Krishna, he wrote, came because of a great desire to serve the Lord. Externally, Shrila Prabhupada was experiencing great inconvenience; he had been aboard ship for a month and had suffered heart attacks and repeated seasickness. Moreover, even if he were to recover from these difficulties, his arrival in America would undoubtedly bring many more difficulties. But remembering the desire of his spiritual master, taking strength from his reading of Chaitanya-caritamrita, and revealing his mind in his prayer to Lord Krishna, Prabhupada remained confident.

   After a thirty-five-day journey from Calcutta, the Jaladuta reached Boston’s Commonwealth Pier at 5:30 A.M. on September 17, 1965. The ship was to stop briefly in Boston before proceeding to New York City. Among the first things Shrila Prabhupada saw in America were the letters “A & P” painted on a pierfront warehouse. The gray waterfront dawn revealed the ships in the harbor, a conglomeration of lobster stands and drab buildings, and, rising in the distance, the Boston skyline.

   Prabhupada had to pass through U.S. Immigration and Customs in Boston. His visa allowed him a three-month stay, and an official stamped it to indicate his expected date of departure. Captain Pandia invited Prabhupada to take a walk into Boston, where the captain intended to do some shopping. They walked across a footbridge into a busy commercial area with old churches, warehouses, office buildings, bars, tawdry bookshops, nightclubs, and restaurants. Prabhupada briefly observed the city, but the most significant thing about his short stay in Boston, aside from the fact that he had now set foot in America, was that at Commonwealth Pier he wrote another Bengali poem, entitled “Markine Bhagavata-dharma” (“Teaching Krishna Consciousness in America”). Some of the verses he wrote on board the ship that day are as follows:*

   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 here, otherwise why would You bring me to this terrible place?

Most of the population here is covered by the material modes of ignorance and passion. Absorbed in material life they think themselves very happy and satisfied, and therefore they have no taste for the transcendental message of Vasudeva [Krishna]. I do not know how they will be able to understand it.

   But I know that Your causeless mercy can make everything possible, because You are the most expert mystic. How will they understand the mellows of devotional service? O Lord, I am simply praying for Your mercy so that I will be able to convince them about Your message. All living entities have come under the control of the illusory energy by Your will, and therefore, if You like, by Your will they can also be released from the clutches of illusion. I wish that You may deliver them. Therefore if You so desire their deliverance, then only will they be able to understand Your message…

   How will I make them understand this message of Krishna consciousness? I am very unfortunate, unqualified, and the most fallen. Therefore I am seeking Your benediction so that I can convince them, for I am powerless to do so on my own.

   Somehow or other, O Lord, You have brought me here to speak about You. Now, my Lord, it is up to You to make me a success or failure, as You like. O spiritual master of all the worlds! I can simply repeat Your message. So if You like You can make my power of speaking suitable for their understanding.

   Only by Your causeless mercy will my words become pure. I am sure that when this transcendental message penetrates their hearts, they will certainly feel gladdened and thus become liberated from all unhappy conditions of life.

   O Lord, I am just like a puppet in Your hands. So if You have brought me here to dance, then make me dance, make me dance, O Lord, make me dance as You like. I have no devotion, nor do I have any knowledge, but I have strong faith in the holy name of Krishna. I have been designated as Bhaktivedanta, and now, if You like, You can fulfill the real purport of Bhaktivedanta.

Signed—the most unfortunate, insignificant beggar,

A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami,

On board the ship Jaladuta, Commonwealth Pier,

Boston, Massachusetts, U.S.A.

Dated 18th September 1965.

 

   He was now in America. He was in a major American city, rich with billions, populated with millions, and determined to stay the way it was. Prabhupada saw Boston from the viewpoint of a pure devotee of Krishna. He saw the hellish city life, people dedicated to the illusion of material happiness. All his dedication and training moved him to give these people the transcendental knowledge and saving grace of Krishna consciousness, yet he was feeling weak, lowly, and unable to help them on his own. He was but “an insignificant beggar” with no money. He had barely survived the two heart attacks at sea, he spoke a different language, he dressed strangely—yet he had come to tell people to give up meat-eating, illicit sex, intoxication, and gambling, and to teach them to worship Lord Krishna, who to them was a mythical Hindu god. What would he be able to accomplish?

Helplessly he spoke his heart directly to God: “I wish that You may deliver them. I am seeking Your benediction so that I can convince them.” And for convincing them he would trust in the power of God’s holy name and in the Shrimad-Bhagavatam. This transcendental sound would clean away desire for material enjoyment from their hearts and awaken loving service to Krishna. On the streets of Boston, Prabhupada was aware of the power of ignorance and passion that dominated the city; but he had faith in the transcendental process. He was tiny, but God was infinite, and God was Krishna, his dear friend.

   On the nineteenth of September the Jaladuta sailed into New York Harbor and docked at a Brooklyn pier, at Seventeenth Street. Shrila Prabhupada saw the awesome Manhattan skyline, the Empire State Building, and, like millions of visitors and immigrants in the past, the Statue of Liberty.

Shrila Prabhupada was dressed appropriately for a resident of Vrindavana. He wore kanthi-mala (neck beads) and a simple cotton dhoti, and he carried japa-mala (chanting beads) and an old chadar, or shawl. His complexion was golden, his head shaven, sikha in the back, his forehead decorated with the whitish Vaishnava tilaka. He wore pointed white rubber slippers, not uncommon for sadhus in India. But who in New York had ever seen or dreamed of anyone appearing like this Vaishnava? He was possibly the first Vaishnava sannyasi to arrive in New York with uncompromised appearance. Of course, New Yorkers have an expertise in not giving much attention to any kind of strange new arrival.

   Shrila Prabhupada was on his own. He had a sponsor, Mr. Agarwal, somewhere in Pennsylvania. Surely someone would be here to greet him. Although he had little idea of what to do as he walked off the ship onto the pier—“I did not know whether to turn left or right”—he passed through the dockside formalities and was met by a representative from Traveler’s Aid, sent by the Agarwals in Pennsylvania, who offered to take him to the Scindia ticket office in Manhattan to book his return passage to India.

   At the Scindia office, Prabhupada spoke with the ticket agent, Joseph Foerster, who was impressed by this unusual passenger’s Vaishnava appearance, his light luggage, and his apparent poverty. He regarded Prabhupada as a priest. Most of Scindia’s passengers were businessmen or families, so Mr. Foerster had never seen a passenger wearing the traditional Vaishnava dress of India. He found Shrila Prabhupada to be “a pleasant gentleman” who spoke of “the nice accommodations and treatment he had received aboard the Jaladuta.” Prabhupada asked Mr. Foerster to hold space for him on a return ship to India. His plans were to leave in about two months, and he told Mr. Foerster that he would keep in touch. Carrying only forty rupees cash, which he himself called “a few hours’ spending in New York,” and an additional twenty dollars he had collected from selling three volumes of the Bhagavatam to Captain Pandia, Shrila Prabhupada, with umbrella and suitcase in hand, and still escorted by the Traveler’s Aid representative, set out for the Port Authority Bus Terminal to arrange for his trip to Butler.

(These excerpts have been taken from Satswarup dasa Goswami’s Prabhupada-lilamrita ch 11-12.)