SpiritualKṛṣṇadāsa, Śivānanda, and Jaya Govinda had sufficiently arranged and decorated their temple by June of 1969 to feel confident that they could invite Śrīla Prabhupāda for a visit. But he informed them that he preferred to come in August, when the devotees in London, who had still not found a suitable place for a temple, might also be ready to receive him. Finally, on August 21, a telegram arrived at Eppendorfer Weg 11 with the longawaited message: ARRIVAL HAMBURG FLIGHT 409 LUFTHANSA AUGUST 25 AT 6:10 A.M. BHAKTIVEDANTA SWAMI ŚIVĀNANDA DĀSA: We didn’t know very well how to receive Prabhupāda, so we put down a rug in the airport’s arrival hall, sat down, and held kīrtana.
VĀSUDEVA DĀSA: The role of the spiritual master wasn’t clear to me. Jaya Govinda had brought a painting of Prabhupāda from India, but there he looked so thin and sick that I had difficulty appreciating his transcendental qualities.
My mundane concept of Prabhupāda’s external features dissolved when I saw him at the airport. As soon as he came through customs, everything seemed to become illuminated by the golden hue of his shining face and his saffron-colored robes. As Prabhupāda approached us, he didn’t seem to be walking—he was almost dancing, floating above the floor. We offered obeisances and continued to chant, and his smile indicated that he was pleased by our effort to give him a befitting reception by chanting the holy name.
BHAKTI-BHŪṢAṆA SWAMI: When Prabhupāda came, we remained sitting and continued to chant. I was impressed to see him dressed in beautiful saffron silk, looking effulgent and aristocratic. One Indian gentleman had accompanied us, and after Prabhupāda exchanged a few words with him, Prabhupāda, his secretary Puruṣottama, and Maṇḍalibhadra, who had a taxi waiting, walked toward the exit. As Prabhupāda passed us we didn’t know whether to continue chanting, offer our obeisances, or get up and follow him. Then Jaya Govinda jumped up and ran to Prabhupāda, throwing himself at his feet. Visibly moved by his disciple’s loving feelings, Prabhupāda affectionately rubbed his head. Afterward, he got into the taxi, and we quickly gathered our things and took a bus to the temple. MAṆḌALIBHADRA DĀSA: Prabhupāda said little during the taxi ride. He remarked that the nicely constructed buildings reminded him of the houses the Westerners had built in Calcutta. It was early Sunday morning, and the streets of Hamburg were almost empty. Half an hour later the taxi reached Fruchtallee, where we had rented an apartment. It was on the fifteenth floor of a high-rise, only a five-minute walk from the storefront, which was too small to accommodate guests.
Prabhupāda liked the arrangements, and soon he, Puruṣottama, and Śivānanda, who would be his personal servant during the visit, had made themselves quite comfortable. Śivānanda told Prabhupāda he had invited an Indology professor from Hamburg University for the next day but that he had no other preaching engagements arranged and was afraid that not many people would attend Prabhupāda’s evening lectures, scheduled for Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Prabhupāda was not disturbed; he had come primarily to encourage his disciples and help them advance in Kṛṣṇa consciousness. Preaching to the public was important, but maintaining and increase the devotees’ spiritual awareness was his main concern. He even brought with him small brass Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa Deities he had thought of installing in Hamburg.
BHAKTI-BHŪṢAṆA SWAMI: After we went to Prabhupāda’s apartment, I heard that his dictaphone was broken and that he needed a tape recorder. I volunteered to help. My father had a reel-to-reel machine. So I rushed home, convinced my father to lend it, took the machine, and went back to the apartment. Then I was led into Prabhupāda’s room because I had to explain how to use it. When I was about to leave I asked him whether I could be initiated, and he simply moved his head in agreement.
That evening around seven o’clock, we assembled again in Prabhupāda’s apartment. As I stepped out of the elevator, I perceived the fragrance of incense and the sound of a harmonium. The instrument had been donated by a Mr. Samantha, a Calcutta businessman who had emigrated to Germany. He appreciated the devotees, and he sold Prabhupāda’s first record album, Govinda, in his shop.
We had to kind of cram into the small room. Prabhupāda was sitting on his bed with the harmonium and singing Kibā jaya, while Puruṣottama offered ārati to the Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa Deities. The ghee lamp got passed around, and I learned how to touch the flame and then my forehead. I sat right in front of Prabhupāda and watched his fingers on the keys. In such a unique and intimate situation I felt completely in another world. After ārati, Prabhupāda stopped playing. We could hear somebody running a circular saw nearby, and its penetrating scream abruptly reminded us again of the material world. Despite the distractive noise, Prabhupāda addressed the devotees briefly. Maṇḍalibhadra’s mother had also come, and when Prabhupāda told her that a good son comes from a good mother, she looked moved. She appreciated Prabhupāda. She later offered to help us in Berlin, where she lived.
VĀSUDEVA DĀSA: Once it was confirmed that Prabhupāda was coming, we needed a vyāsāsana. I wanted to do something special for him, so I volunteered to build one. But when I asked for money to buy wood and cloth, Kṛṣṇadāsa, who was in charge of the petty cash, told me that the financial situation didn’t allow for such a heavy expenditure and that I should go out and beg for the materials.
So I went to Hamburg’s biggest department stores—Karstadt, C&A, and Penndorf—and asked for wooden bars, plywood boards, and fabrics. A Hare Kṛṣṇa monk with a shaved head and dhotī was still an unusual sight, and people thought I was a foreigner and readily helped me. Soon I had everything I needed. A couple of days later the seat was ready. Because it was a little shaky, Śivānanda had to sit down on it to make sure it would hold the weight of a man and not collapse. As a final touch, I added a light blue canopy.
When Prabhupāda saw the seat he gave it a skeptical look. My heart almost stopped when he climbed the three small steps, touched the canopy to see whether it was secure, and finally, with some difficulty, managed to get through the wooden bars and sit down. He looked again at the canopy over him, not trusting that it would really hold, and then turned to the small group of disciples and guests in front of him.
*** Prabhupāda’s first lecture took place the evening after his arrival. Pleased to see the two new boys, Oliver and Stefan, seriously following Kṛṣṇa consciousness, he warmly welcomed them and a few guests, including Dr. Franz Bernhard, the Indology professor Śivānanda had invited.
Prabhupāda began with a soft kīrtana. He had been told that the neighbors complained when the chanting got too loud and that they had even presented their case to the authorities. Sitting in the tiny Hamburg temple, Prabhupāda had his doubts about whether the place was adequate for installing Deities.
After the lecture, he had a long meeting with Professor Bernhard. The Indologist politely and respectfully asked Prabhupāda to teach him the difference between the philosophies of Advaita-vāda and Kṛṣṇa consciousness. During the discussion, he said he thought of the devotees as hippies because Allen Ginsberg seemed affiliated with them. The next day Śrīla Prabhupāda expressed concern about this in a letter to Brahmānanda, who helped oversee the publication of Back to Godhead magazine in the US: I am pleased to inform you that our journey from New York to Hamburg was very comfortable, and we safely arrived at the scheduled time. The boys were present to receive us, and the apartment they have selected is very nice. I am sending herewith a letter addressed to Hayagriva.
The second part of the Ginsberg conversation article should not be published, and our policy should be to only publish our Krishna Consciousness articles in various forms. We are not concerned with any other movement save and except Krishna Consciousness in its pure form. In India it is said that a little bit of a pure thing is much better than huge volumes of impure, adulterated things. So please try to follow this policy and publish in BTG only pure Krishna Conscious articles.
I think establishment of the Deities here will not be possible because the place is not very settled up. There is objection by the health department for performing kirtana. Anyway, they are doing very nicely, and in Monday’s meeting one Dr. Franz Bernhard, a learned scholar in Indology, was there, and he is very interested in our movement. Yesterday I had discussion with him for about two hours and he is impressed, as you will find I have explained to Hayagriva in his letter.
ŚIVĀNANDA DĀSA: Dr. Bernhard had studied Vaiṣṇavism, but didn’t agree with many of its philosophical concepts. When he asked a question regarding “cosmopolitan consciousness,” Prabhupāda cut in: “Where is your cosmopolitan consciousness? You are killing animals out there,” referring to a slaughterhouse not far from our temple. He explained that real cosmopolitan consciousness means Kṛṣṇa consciousness because the devotee sees all living entities equally. After all, the animals are also part and parcel of Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead.
Śrīla Prabhupāda stayed two and a half weeks in Hamburg, from August 25 until September 11, and although the sky was usually overcast and it was rather cool for summer, he regularly went out for a morning walk.
ŚIVĀNANDA DĀSA: Except for a few occasions I was his only companion because Prabhupāda’s secretary had the idea that if only one person accompanied him on his walk, then he would be able to relax. When I asked Prabhupāda about this, he dismissed the idea: “What is this? How can you relax when you are taking a walk?” Anyway, the idea prevailed that generally only one person should go with him—and that was me. But from time to time, the other devotees came along with us.
BHAKTI-BHŪṢAṆA SWAMI: One morning we went up to Prabhupāda’s apartment as he was getting ready for his walk. Śivānanda was helping him put on long underwear.
Usually, he wore his dark coat and a hat made of artificial fur, but this time he wrapped an orange shawl around his head. When Kṛṣṇadāsa chuckled at the way he put on the shawl, Prabhupāda remarked, “Oh, you don’t dress like this here?”
Whenever I went on a walk, I would have to quit at one point and go to work. So I’d offer my obeisances right there on the street. One morning I became so absorbed in offering prayers that when I got up, Prabhupāda and the other devotees were already gone and people were staring at me and wondering what I was doing on the ground.
VĀSUDEVA DĀSA: When we accompanied Prabhupāda on his morning walks, I usually went a little ahead to clear the path, remove obstacles like fallen branches, or indicate puddles of water. Once, we sat down on a park bench, and because it was still wet, I spread my jacket for Prabhupāda to sit on. When he actually accepted my humble offering, I was overjoyed and later wore that jacket until it was almost in shreds.
ŚIVĀNANDA DĀSA: On one walk—I think it was on the last day of August—Prabhupāda expressed the desire to see the harbor. So we took the S-Bahn, the city train, and got off at Landungsbrücken. While walking along the waterfront we saw an ocean liner being pulled by a tugboat. When the big ships enter the harbor, they have to turn off their engines and get parked. Observing this, Prabhupāda said, “Just see: this ship is very, very big, but it is pulled by a little boat. Similarly, when we turn off our Kṛṣṇa consciousness, we get pulled away by māyā.”
Generally, after coming back from the walks, I would go into the kitchen and start cooking. To be honest, I was not a good cook—I had hardly any experience—but somehow or other it worked out that way. For breakfast, I usually prepared cut fruits and fried nuts. Down the street was a fruit shop, and the owner was very favorable. When he learned that Prabhupāda had come, he offered to get first-class fruits at the wholesale market, which we then bought from him at a very reasonable price. Prabhupāda had brought small Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa Deities with him, and once, while I was in the kitchen preparing lunch, he came to the door and said, “Come with me.” I followed him into his room, where he opened a little closet that had been converted into a temporary altar for Their Lordships. “You are in the kitchen,” he said, “but you should know that you are actually cooking for Them, not me.” Well, at that time, there were only a few installed Deities in the movement, and I had practically no idea what Deity worship meant. Looking back, I can only appreciate Prabhupāda’s kindness in trying to make me aware of the meaning of serving the Lord in His Deity form, but I have to admit that I didn’t understand much of what he tried to tell me.
Prabhupāda ate frugally, so usually, there were enough remnants left on his plate to serve as my breakfast. I have to confess that I was rather selfish at that time, so I used to eat all the remnants myself.
But one morning there were hardly any remnants left, and I was still hungry, so I made some cereal by cooking farina in water with sugar. I bowed down and offered it with the standard prayers, and when I got up, there was Prabhupāda in the doorway.
“What was that?” he asked. I explained to him that I made some cereal. “You are not getting enough to eat?” he asked.
“Well,” I replied, “I was a little hungry this morning.”
He said, “All right, come here.” He went to the stove and told me that he would show me how to make halavā. And he made it really fast. I think it didn’t take him longer than five minutes. He put some ghee and farina in a pot and turned the flame all the way up. Usually, when you make halavā you toast the farina slowly, and you mix the sugar with the water and keep that separate until the end. But Prabhupāda didn’t do that. He cooked the farina with the ghee very quickly, then added some sugar, poured water over it, and pshhh! That was it. When it was finished, he said, “When you want to eat something, you make this.”
After breakfast, Prabhupāda would chant on his beads and answer his mail as I prepared his lunch. Because of my very basic knowledge about cooking, I thought the best vegetable I could prepare for him was eggplant. Every day I made a different eggplant dish. Then one morning Prabhupāda called me into his room. “What are you cooking for lunch today?” he asked. “I hope it’s not eggplant.”
“Oh no!” I thought, “now I’m in trouble.” And I humbly submitted, “Well, Prabhupāda, what would you like?”
“Do they have cabbage here?” he wanted to know. In America, the Germans are known as Krauts because of their great liking for sauerkraut, which is made from cabbage, so I replied, “Oh, yes, Prabhupāda, they have lots of cabbage here; that’s no problem.”
After I got the cabbage and went into the kitchen, suddenly he appeared at the door and asked, “Do you know how to prepare cabbage?” My assuring reply didn’t convince him, so he explained, “You take the cabbage and cut it into very fine shreds, then put it into a pot with butter, salt, and pepper, and cover it. No water. The cabbage will cook in its own juice.” So I did that and he liked it very much.
Once, we tried to get some mangoes, but we could only find green ones. We knew that Prabhupāda liked a mango along with his noon meal because it had some medicinal quality, but the green mangoes were rather hard, and I wasn’t sure how to prepare them. That day Prabhupāda came again to the kitchen to see how I was doing and what I was making. When he saw the green mangoes and learned that I wasn’t sure what to do with them, he said, “Here is how you prepare them: You peel the mangoes, cut them up, then you melt some sugar, mix the pieces with it, cook it for a while, and afterward you put it all into a container and let it soak.” So I did that. What happens is that after about a week the juice of the mangoes amalgamates with the sugar and the whole thing turns a purple color. I guess it’s some sort of mango chutney. Prabhupāda would take a little bit of that every day with his lunch.
Just before this incident, Prabhupāda had come to the kitchen door and told me out of the blue, “You shouldn’t waste anything.” So after I prepared the mango chutney, I had the mango skins on the table and I thought, “Gee, I have to be careful not to waste anything.” So I went to Prabhupāda and asked him, “Well, what shall we do with these?” He sort of smiled, because obviously, you throw the peels away, but he said, “Oh, if you want to do something with them, add some mustard oil and salt and eat them like that.” So I took some of the mustard oil that I was using for Prabhupāda’s massage, added a little to the peels, put on some salt, and tried to eat them, but they really tasted awful. Later I took that preparation to the temple and some of the devotees tried it, but nobody liked it except for Maṇḍalibhadra, who ate it all.
BHAKTI-BHŪṢAṆA SWAMI: The first time Śivānanda brought us the remnants from Prabhupāda’s prasādam we immediately crowded around him and stretched out our hands. He had some khadi sauce, which he had put into a crystal tube. It was a very small quantity, and he gave each devotee only a few drops. The taste was indescribable. To us, it tasted like pure nectar.
Apparently, Śivānanda had problems making the chaunks, because after Prabhupāda left, the owner of the apartment complained about the kitchen. There were stains and splashes all over the walls, and the cupboard was sooty. The whole place smelled of ghee and incense. We had to paint the entire kitchen to bring it back to its former state.
ŚIVĀNANDA DĀSA: Prabhupāda used to take his massage at 11:30 a.m., just before lunch at 1:00 p.m. After a short afternoon nap, he would receive devotees and guests in the temple, and in the evening he drank hot milk and went to bed around 10:00 p.m. I don’t know what time he got up because I was always fast asleep. He translated during the night, working on The Nectar of Devotion. An hour after sunrise he would go out for a walk.
So around 11:30 a.m. I would finish cooking and then go for the massage. Giving Prabhupāda a massage was special because it’s such an intimate bodily service, but just like with cooking, I didn’t know much about it. Prabhupāda had to show me by giving me a massage first and simultaneously explaining its purpose. He said, “When the body becomes old, the stomach begins to produce bad airs, and if these airs are not distributed throughout the body by massage, then sickness will come.” He liked to receive a really vigorous massage, and he wanted me to push as hard as I could, but I was trying to be careful. I was always thinking, “This is the body of my spiritual master.” Consequently, Prabhupāda mildly rebuked me, calling my efforts “love pats.”
Serving Prabhupāda as nicely as possible was intense, so I was a bit nervous in my service. I experienced it as rather demanding because I had a pretty tight schedule. As a result, I sometimes felt tired on the morning walks. I think Prabhupāda noticed it. One day we came out of the house, went along the road, and then strolled through a little park. We went around a lake and came to a few park benches. Suddenly Prabhupāda stopped and said, “All right, let’s sit down for a while.”
When Prabhupāda sat he was poised, his back perfectly straight; his back didn’t even touch the backrest. But I was so pooped out that as soon as I sat down I sort of slumped into the park bench.
After a while, I glanced over at Śrīla Prabhupāda and saw that he was sitting like an aristocrat. Then Prabhupāda turned his head and looked at me, and I looked at him, and I thought, “Oh no, I can’t sit like this when Prabhupāda is sitting like that,” so I pulled myself up and sat straight just like him. Prabhupāda looked over again and simply nodded in approval, as if to say, “Yes, that’s the proper way to sit”.
After returning to the temple I reported this humorous incident to the devotees. The next morning a whole bunch of devotees came with us on the walk. We went to a different park, but Prabhupāda again sat on a bench, just as he had the day before. All the devotees, being prepared, sat down just the way Prabhupāda did, very poised and with their backs nicely straight. When Prabhupāda saw all the devotees sitting like this, he smiled and nodded in approval.
One Sunday, because of my intense schedule as his servant and because I had also cooked the feast at the temple, I didn’t finish my rounds. I had maybe four rounds left. The next morning my mind was really agitated, and I was bordering on being offensive. Of course, I tried to control myself, but during the morning walk I asked Prabhupāda, “What should we do if we are too busy to finish our rounds in one day?” His answer was, “You should lose sleep to have more time!” I thought about that and felt that the day before that wouldn’t have been possible for me, so I spoke up again. “What if that’s not possible?” Prabhupāda looked at me and replied, “Then you should make them up the next day.” I guess because of my not having finished my rounds I was in sort of a challenging mood, so I said, “What if that’s not possible?” Prabhupāda stopped and looked at me sternly. “Then you should work for Kṛṣṇa!” I immediately grabbed my beads and began to chant, “Hare Kṛṣṇa, Hare Kṛṣṇa.”
Another time we were sitting on a park bench with Maṇḍalibhadra. He used to take notes on everything Prabhupāda said because we had no portable tape recorder. A woman came by with her dog. Although it was a public park and we were sitting there peacefully, all of a sudden the dog started barking at us. Prabhupāda commented, “Just see! This is the doggish mentality. We are not doing anything; we are not even on your property, and you come along and bark at us.”
*** One evening, Prabhupāda selected for his lecture a verse from the Viṣṇu Purāṇa: viṣṇu-śakti parā prokta kṣetrajñākhya tathā parā avidyā-karma-saṁjñānyā tṛtīyā śaktir iṣyate “The potency of Lord Viṣṇu is summarized in three categories: the spiritual potency, the living entities, and ignorance. The spiritual potency is full of knowledge; the living entities, although belonging to the spiritual potency, are subject to bewilderment; and the third energy, which is full of ignorance, is always visible in fruitive activities.”
Prabhupāda explained that energy and its source are non-different, just as sunshine and the sun globe are essentially the same in quality, although they manifest differently. Similarly, the Lord’s energy is spiritual, but it manifests in different ways. He explained: So everything is simultaneously one with and different from the Supreme Lord. There are two classes of philosophers. One class says that God and the living entities are different, and another class, the monist philosophers, say that God and the living entities are one. Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu’s acintya-bhedābheda philosophy says that God and the living creatures are simultaneously one and different. They are one in quality, just like the energy and the energetic, the sunshine and the sun globe. Qualitatively, in the sunshine there is heat, there is illumination, light. In the sun globe, there is also heat, there is illumination, but the degrees are quite different. You can bear the heat and illumination of the sunshine, but you cannot go to the sun globe or bear the heat and temperature there.
Next he explained that although Kṛṣṇa and we living entities are qualitatively one, we were quantitatively minute—in fact, smaller than the atom. Then he said that even if by our scientific research we could count all the atoms in the cosmic manifestation, still we would not be able to perceive the Supreme Personality of Godhead with our material senses. He quoted the Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu (1.2.234): ataḥ śrī-kṛṣṇa-nāmādi na bhaved grāhyam indriyaiḥ sevonmukhe hi jihvādau svayam eva sphuraty adaḥ “Because Kṛṣṇa’s form, qualities, and pastimes are all on the absolute platform, the material senses cannot appreciate them. But when a conditioned soul is awakened to Kṛṣṇa consciousness and renders service by using his tongue to chant the Lord’s holy name and taste the remnants of the Lord’s food, the tongue is purified, and one gradually comes to understand who Kṛṣṇa really is.”
As his young audience listened with rapt attention, Prabhupāda described the importance of engaging the tongue in the Lord’s service. In this way, all the other senses can also gradually be controlled. Citing the prasādam prayers by Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura, he compared our present conditioned state with that of a fish caught in a net and said that our imprisonment within this network of ignorance is being prolonged only on account of the dangerous senses: This human form of life is a great boon to the living entity, who is traveling through the cycle of birth and death, perpetually changing his body. Here is the opportunity—the human form of life. We can utilize the tongue properly and get out of this cycle. Sevonmukhe hi jihvādau. Sevā means “service” and jihva adau “beginning from the tongue.” So if we can keep our tongue engaged always chanting the Hare Kṛṣṇa mantra, then we can keep ourselves always in contact with Kṛṣṇa, because Kṛṣṇa, the sound, is not different from Kṛṣṇa. Kṛṣṇa is absolute. Therefore, as soon as my tongue touches the holy name of Kṛṣṇa, that means it immediately associates with Kṛṣṇa.
So if you constantly keep yourself associated with Kṛṣṇa by chanting this mantra, Hare Kṛṣṇa, then just imagine how you are being easily purified. And your tongue wants very palatable dishes to taste, so Kṛṣṇa is very kind; He has given you hundreds and thousands of palatable dishes, remnants of foodstuff eaten by Him. You eat. In this way, if you simply make it a determination that “I shall not allow my tongue to taste anything not offered to Kṛṣṇa, and I shall engage my tongue always in chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa,” then all perfection is within your grasp. All perfection. Prabhupāda said that purified chanting will eventually lead to experiencing transcendental bliss, and therefore Rūpa Gosvāmī expressed the desire to have millions of tongues and ears to relish the chanting of Hare Kṛṣṇa. But he also warned the devotees not to imitate such an advanced stage by trying to understand Kṛṣṇa with their present, impure senses. This would invariably lead to mistaking the loving affairs of Rādhā and Kṛṣṇa for ordinary dealings. To rise above the material platform was possible only when the mirror of the heart was cleansed by offenseless chanting.
*** On September 3, Prabhupāda and his followers observed Janmāṣṭamī, the anniversary of the advent of Lord Kṛṣṇa. Devotees customarily fast, chant, and read throughout the day and night on Janmāṣṭamī, but Prabhupāda selected the morning of this auspicious occasion to give initiations. BHAKTI-BHŪṢAṆA SWAMI: When Prabhupāda saw me sitting there with my long hair, he asked the older students why I hadn’t shaved up, and they, in turn, asked me. But we were all so inexperienced that we couldn’t give a satisfactory explanation. With the ceremony about to begin, it was too late to do anything about it. At one point in the conversation, Prabhupāda referred to a picture of the Pañca-tattva and said something like, “You either shave your head or never cut your hair.” I got initiated as I was, and being attached I didn’t shave up even afterward. Only gradually I began reducing the length of my hair, cutting it a little shorter from time to time. When I was supposed to hand my beads to Prabhupāda so he could chant on them, they were tangled, and I was unable to unknot them. He looked at me gravely and said, “This is māyā.”
The requirements for being accepted as a disciple were minimal.
Prabhupāda gladly accepted Oliver and Stefan as his disciples, though they had lived in the temple only a few weeks, and he even accepted a young couple who had just begun visiting.
As the initiation ceremony began, Prabhupāda showed the initiates how to purify their hands and explained the meaning of a mantra they had just repeated after him: oṁ apavitraḥ pavitro va sarvāvasthaṁ gato ’pi va yaḥ smaret pundarikākṣam sa bahyābhyantaram śuciḥ śrī viṣṇu śrī viṣṇu śrī viṣṇu “One may be impure or pure; in any condition, if he remembers the Lord, whose eyes are like lotus petals, he becomes externally and internally purified. Śrī Viṣṇu! Śrī Viṣṇu! Śrī Viṣṇu!”
The Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement is meant to purify people of the contaminated condition of material existence. A living entity is pure because he is part and parcel of the supreme pure, God. But due to his impure condition, he has forgotten his eternal relationship with God. So this initiation means that one is being accepted as a student by the spiritual master to promote him gradually to the purified state where he can realize himself and God. In the contaminated state, we cannot approach. Just like if you want to enter a certain place, then you must adjust to the conditions. People are going to the moon. There it is supposed to be very cold. So people go with a certain type of suit. Similarly, if you want to enter into the spiritual kingdom, the planet where Kṛṣṇa lives, you must be purified. Prabhupāda added that the attempt to go to the moon is bound to fail because people cannot adjust to that planet. But Kṛṣṇa consciousness, he said, is so powerful that it enables us to adjust our condition in such a way that after leaving this body we can enter Kṛṣṇa’s planet. If we always keep ourselves in touch with the vibration of Kṛṣṇa consciousness—Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa Hare Hare/ Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma Hare Hare—then it is guaranteed we can keep ourselves pure and free from all material contamination. He concluded his talk by saying: So on behalf of Kṛṣṇa, we are trying to distribute this knowledge at least in this part of the world. Now, those who are fortunate will take it and be benefitted. It is up to you. Every individual soul is independent. He may accept or may not accept. But if he accepts, it is good for him. God never interferes with your independence. No. He will never do that; otherwise, what is the meaning of the living being? Dull matter has no independence. Even a big mountain has no independence. It stands still. But a small ant, even a microbe, has independence because it is a living creature. So God has given you a little independence.
That independence does not mean you shall misuse it. You shall use it properly. And what is that proper use? To be engaged in His loving service. Just like you citizens of this German state, what you are meant for? You are meant for rendering service to the state. This is a small state. But there is a huge state called the cosmic manifestation. That state belongs to Kṛṣṇa, or God. So naturally, you have to render service to the supreme state, the supreme will. As long as you are rendering service to the state properly your independence as a citizen is there. But as soon as you rebel against the state, your independence is gone. Similarly, this conditional life is due to our rebellious condition toward God. As soon as we agree to surrender and be one with Him by transcendental loving service, the whole thing becomes adjusted. So the Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement is meant to teach people, to give them this practical suggestion, and to help them elevate themselves to that platform.
BHAKTI-BHŪṢAṆA SWAMI: I had a hard time following what Prabhupāda said in his lecture because of his heavy accent, but I still listened attentively, because he was so serious and such a unique personality. Just by looking at him all the time I accepted whatever he said.
ŚIVĀNANDA DĀSA: After Prabhupāda finished chanting on each candidate’s beads, he called the prospective disciples forward one by one and asked them to state the four regulative principles. Then he handed over their beads and gave them new names. Oliver became Vāsudeva Dāsa; Stefan, Sucandra Dāsa; and the couple received the names Viśvanātha Dāsa and Kuntī Devī Dāsī. That Prabhupāda initiated the couple surprised all of us. It was only his causeless mercy and his intense desire to fan even the smallest spark of interest in Kṛṣṇa consciousness. They had shown no qualification other than a little attraction, and sadly, a few weeks later, they left and never returned. When we informed Śrīla Prabhupāda by letter, he indirectly indicated in his reply that part of the reason for their leaving might have been our inexperience in dealing with them.
I am sorry to learn that Viśvanātha and Kunti Devi did not take this very seriously. What can be done? They will have to wait to the next life, or if Krishna’s mercy is there, they will come back surely. I am pleased to learn however that the nice girl who was at the Vyasa Puja ceremony is now coming more often. Any person who becomes interested, try to educate him or her rightly. Everything depends on preaching.
Prabhupāda had instructed his older disciples to arrange for the necessary ingredients to perform the fire sacrifice. After the grains, the ghee, and some firewood (the pieces of an old wooden box) were assembled, he prepared a small sacrificial arena in the temple room and, with Kṛṣṇadāsa assisting him, lit the fire and performed the ceremony.
VĀSUDEVA DĀSA: After the initiation ceremony Prabhupāda distributed flowers to everyone, and later we were allowed to go to his room. I took advantage of the opportunity and gave him a painting of Kṛṣṇa that I had prepared for him. I was a little anxious at the prospect of being alone with my spiritual master, but as soon as I came into Prabhupāda’s presence my anxiety disappeared. He was like a father. When I showed him the painting, he looked at me with a smile, and pointing his finger at Kṛṣṇa, he said, “This is Vāsudeva and you are Vāsudeva Dāsa, the servant of Vāsudeva.” I simply nodded in agreement. I didn’t really understand the profound meaning of Prabhupāda’s words. I had only a vague idea of what it meant to be a servant, what to speak of being Kṛṣṇa’s servant. BHAKTI-BHŪṢAṆA SWAMI: In the late afternoon on Janmāṣṭamī we assembled in the temple room and Hayagrīva, who had arrived from the US the day before, read from the manuscript of Kṛṣṇa Book. Prabhupāda, sitting on his vyāsāsana, was simply absorbed in listening to Kṛṣṇa’s pastimes. This Janmāṣṭamī was the first time I had ever fasted, and I was gradually becoming weak and spaced out. We sat for hours listening to Kṛṣṇa Book.
In the evening Prabhupāda had his head shaved—something he usually did only every Ekādaśī—and Kṛṣṇadāsa, who regarded this as his favorite service, carefully shaved Prabhupāda’s head while the rest of us watched. Shortly before midnight Mr. Samantha and another Bengali businessman visited us. After midnight, when Prabhupāda was about to break the fast, they offered him a plate of fruits they had prepared for him. He had a short conversation with them in Bengali. I met one of them many years later in Hamburg, and he told me that Prabhupāda had asked them to help us.
*** The following day, the devotees observed another auspicious event: Vyāsapūjā, the celebration of the spiritual master's appearance. In his lecture, Prabhupāda spoke about the duty of a genuine spiritual master and expressed his desire that all his disciples take up that duty and become the next spiritual masters: It is not that the spiritual master is a particular man. Spiritual master is a truth. So what is that truth? The truth is saṁsāra-dāvānala-līḍha-lokatrāṇāya kāruṇya-ghanāghanatvam. The whole world is in the blaze of material pangs, threefold miseries. And a person who is authorized to deliver people from that material pangs, he is called “spiritual master.” So, the spiritual master's duty is to save the living entities who are so much embarrassed by the forest fire. That is the duty of spiritual master. Saṁsāra-dāvānala-līḍha-loka. The whole world is blazing, and just like in the blazing fire of the forest, the animals are going here and there, and some of them are dying, the whole world is like that. And how that blazing fire can be extinguished? You cannot send there a fire brigade, or you cannot get some pots of water and try to extinguish that wide fire. It is not possible. Then how to extinguish it? The extinguishing is possible when there is cloud overhead and there is incessant pouring of water. Then the forest fire extinguished. No artificial means, no scientific means. Fire brigade or this fire extinguisher, we have invented so many things, but when there is forest fire all these things are nonsense. Nothing can be used. The only use, means, is when there is pouring, incessant pouring of water from the cloud. That is made by God. That is not in your hand. You cannot produce cloud. By God's arrangement, the cloud is there.
Ghanāghanatvam. The example is given, “Charitable just like the cloud.” Why this example is given? When cloud pours water, it is so sufficient that there is no comparison. But if you want to pour water, a bucketful of water, how long you will do it?
So, spiritual master means he must be just like the cloud. How it is possible? It is possible. It is possible, provided he follows the disciplic succession of spiritual masters. Then it is possible. He must inherit the power from the superior source. Then it is possible that by his teaching, by his lessons, the forest fire which is burning within our heart, it can be extinguished, and the person who receives such spiritual instruction bona fidely, he becomes satisfied. This is the process.
Now, this spiritual master's succession is not very difficult. Of course, my students, they offer me so much respect, but all these respects are due to my spiritual master. I am nothing. I am just like peon. Just like peon delivers a letter. He is not responsible for what is written in that letter. He is not responsible for what is written in that letter. He simply delivers. But a peon's duty is that he must sincerely carry out the order of the postmaster and deliver the letter to the proper person. That is their duty. Similarly, this parampara system is like that. Every one of us should become a spiritual master because the world is in blazing fire. Now, of course, time is very high. So to understand the spiritual master... Spiritual master is not a new invention. It is simply following the orders of the spiritual master. So all my students present here who are feeling so much obliged... I am also obliged to them because they are helping me in this missionary work. At the same time, I shall request them all to become spiritual master. Every one of you should be spiritual master next. And what is their duty? Whatever you are hearing from me, whatever you are learning from me, you have to distribute the same in toto without any addition or alteration. Then all of you become the spiritual master. That is the science of becoming spiritual master. To become a spiritual master is not a very wonderful thing. Simply one has to become a sincere soul.
BHAKTI-BHŪṢAṆA SWAMI: I remember this day vividly because of the tremendous anxiety I went through. I had just been initiated the day before, and now I was supposed to deliver an homage in front of Prabhupāda. He sat on this weird vyāsāsana that Vāsudeva had built according to Jaya Govinda’s design—a kind of wooden box with four pillars and a canopy. Prabhupāda had difficulty getting on and off it. But when I saw him there, I had a strong realization that he is beyond designations like “man or woman.” I saw him as a truly transcendental personality.
Speaking in front of the spiritual master is difficult. Because I knew so little English, I spoke in German. Halfway through my brief offering I became emotionally overwhelmed and began to cry. What I said was sentimental, because we were all real greenhorns as far as philosophical realizations were concerned, but the emotional content was intense. After everyone spoke their offerings, we held a kīrtana, and I remember this as the first time we ever got up and danced. Until then we had been accustomed to sitting down during kīrtana. But Jaya Govinda began to dance with raised arms in front of Prabhupāda, and we followed suit. ŚIVĀNANDA DĀSA: Two days later, we observed Ekādaśī. After breakfast Prabhupāda sat in his chair by the window with a chadar over his head, completely absorbed in chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa. He chanted like this all morning long, something he usually didn’t do. When the time came for his massage, he got up and came over to me and said, “You should pray to Kṛṣṇa for me.” I was taken aback. I stammered, “Prabhupāda, I don’t think it will work.” But he calmly replied, “Why not? You are a devotee of Kṛṣṇa.” So I left it at that. I felt deeply touched by his humility, the inconceivable humility of a pure devotee.
During his stay in Hamburg, Prabhupāda was not only preoccupied with the spiritual growth of his disciples, but he also showed concern for their material well-being.
ŚIVĀNANDA DĀSA: During Prabhupāda’s visit the sun came out for maybe two days, not more, so it was pretty chilly in the mornings. One morning, after returning from our walk, we were waiting for the elevator and I was rubbing my hands together trying to ease their numbness. “Are you cold?” Prabhupāda asked me, and he touched my hands. “Feel my hand.” I was surprised by how warm it was. Then he put his hands on his chest and said, “If you keep this part of the body warm, then the rest will be automatically warm.” Prabhupāda was so kind and affectionate. But as soft as Prabhupāda could be, he could also be as hard as a thunderbolt. He took great care of his mail. The first few days, while taking his morning walks, he would look at the mailboxes to see what time they were emptied. One morning he handed me some letters and asked me to take them to the mailbox, and he wanted me to do it right away. But I brought the letters to the temple and gave them to another devotee, who gave them to another devotee. Eventually, after some days, the letters got mailed, but somehow Prabhupāda found out about it and was upset. He reprimanded me, “You are irresponsible!” I didn’t dare to say anything in response. I simply nodded and resolved to become more responsible. Prabhupāda was practical and never wasted anything. For example, he opened the envelopes he received, then sliced open the sides and used the blank sides for notes.
One morning we saw a lot of junk in front of the houses. It was Sperrmülltag, the day of the month people can put oversized junk, like furniture, out on the street to be picked up. As we were out walking, Prabhupāda pointed with his cane at something he considered useful, like a chair or cabinet, and said, “Why don’t you get one of these?” We explained to him we already had enough things because we would also go out on Sperrmülltag and look for stuff we could use. Then, after walking further, Prabhupāda pointed at another object and said, “Oh, why don’t you get that?” Someone responded, “I think we have that already.” Then again he pointed out something else, and we explained we did not need it. We had almost made it back to the temple when Prabhupāda spotted a rug that looked like a Persian carpet. He said, “You don’t have one of those!” And we didn’t! So we picked up the rug and brought it back to the temple. One devotee cleaned it, and we put it down on the temple room floor. Prabhupāda liked it a lot. It can be seen in the picture that was taken on Janmāṣṭamī after initiation.
BHAKTI-BHŪṢAṆA SWAMI: The elderly woman who owned our flat lived on the third floor of the building. She was almost blind, and she was happy to have the devotees with her because she was by herself and we were energetic young men who could be helpful in many ways.
After hearing the devotees enthusiastically and constantly praise Prabhupāda, she became excited to meet him, but during his evening lectures, she would sit behind a curtain that separated the temple room from the staircase. She felt too shy to come into the temple. One evening Prabhupāda went to the bathroom, which was in the hallway. As he opened the curtain, he was suddenly standing in front of this woman. She was taken by surprise—her eyes and mouth were wide open. Śivānanda introduced her: “Prabhupāda, this is the landlady.” Seeing that she had been sitting there all the while Prabhupāda asked, “Oh, she’s a devotee, too?”
ŚIVĀNANDA DĀSA: Prabhupāda told me that he wanted to open a bank account. I took him to the nearest branch of the Hamburger Sparkasse, on Eimsbütteler Chaussee. A young woman attended us, and while she filled out the forms I tried to get a glimpse of the checks Prabhupāda wanted to deposit. But he held his hand over them the whole time. When he signed, I watched with curiosity, and it struck me how he moved the pen deliberately and conscientiously, writing his name slowly, one letter after another.
A few days later, during our walk, we saw the same girl—the bank clerk. Being a brahmacārī I thought the proper thing to do was to avoid looking at her, especially while walking with my spiritual master, so I ignored her and turned my face down. But Prabhupāda nodded and greeted her cordially. Then he turned to me and said, “That was the lady from the bank.”
Once, he asked me why the German people are so fat. I thought it was probably because they eat a lot of meat, but I didn’t feel right to say something about meat-eating. Instead, I said, “Prabhupāda, I think they eat a lot of potatoes.” I’m not sure whether or not he could read my mind or whether he simply knew the reason, but he immediately countered, “No, they eat a lot of meat.”
Another incident gave me the feeling that Prabhupāda actually could read my mind. One day we took him to walk near the Christuskirche, a church, and I was thinking about why we become sick; I was meditating on disease and its origins. Is it because we are in māyā or for some other reason? Somehow I couldn’t formulate the question properly, but Prabhupāda suddenly stopped and, out of the blue, said to me, “90 percent of all sickness is caused by the mind.”
As his visit came to a close, I apologized for what I felt had not been a nice experience for him: the inadequate storefront temple, the lack of preaching programs, the cold weather, the few guests, and a mere handful of inexperienced devotees. But Prabhupāda didn’t seem to mind. He simply said, “We are doing our preaching work whether or not there are a lot of devotees.
*** On one of his last evenings in Hamburg, Śrīla Prabhupāda lectured on the need to inquire about solving the problems of material existence. Such inquisitiveness, he said, differentiates human and animal consciousness. After giving some examples of how an advanced civilization finds solutions to problems, he asked his audience: So what is the ultimate problem? The ultimate problem is that we do not want to suffer, but we have to suffer. That’s all. We want a comfortable, peaceful life. This is the ultimate problem. Is it not? Just think it over. In Sanskrit it is called atyāntika-duhkha-nivṛttiḥ: to solve the problem of miseries. We don’t want any kind of misery. We don’t want to suffer. We want a very peaceful and joyful life. But that is not possible in this material world. That is the problem.
He gave one of his favorite examples to illustrate the fleeting nature of material happiness, John F. Kennedy: “He had a very nice wife, children, honor, prestige, everything. He was riding in procession, people were honoring him, and within a second—finished.”
After enumerating more problems that people face, Prabhupāda asked his audience: Then what is the solution? That solution is there in Bhagavad-gītā, in the seventh chapter, fourteenth verse: “This divine energy of Mine, consisting of the three modes of material nature, is difficult to overcome. But those who have surrendered unto Me can easily cross beyond it.” Yes. The solution is we have to surrender unto the Supreme. Just like if you are arrested by the police, then it is very difficult to get out of their clutches. But if you are a good citizen, a soul surrendered to the state, there is no problem. The police have nothing to do with you. Is it very difficult to understand?
Prabhupāda impressed on his listeners the urgency to perfect their lives: So before death overcomes you, you make a solution to the problem. Those who have come in touch with Kṛṣṇa consciousness and have been initiated should be very determined that in this life we shall make a solution. No more coming back again to the cycle of birth and death. That should be our determination. We should be determined to make a solution and go back home, back to Godhead, where we get an eternal, blissful life of knowledge. This is the sum and substance of our Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement.
When he asked for questions, one devotee wanted to know if it was possible to become Kṛṣṇa conscious in this lifetime. Prabhupāda told his audience: It is possible in one second, provided you are serious. It is not difficult. Bahūnāṁ janmanām ante jñānavān māṁ prapadyate: “After many, many births, when one is intelligent, wise, fully grown in wisdom, he surrenders unto Me,” Kṛṣṇa says. So if I am intelligent, then I will see: “If that is the goal of life, that after many, many births one has to surrender to Kṛṣṇa, why not surrender myself immediately?” This is intelligence. Why shall I wait for many, many births if this is a fact? So that requires a little intelligence. It does not require many, many births. It requires a little intelligence. Take to this Kṛṣṇa consciousness seriously; then your problems are solved. Now, if you don’t believe in it, then come to argument, come to philosophy, come to reason. Go on arguing. There are volumes of books. You can be convinced. You can learn it. Every answer is there in the Bhagavad-gītā. You can try to understand it with your reason, with your arguments.
Prabhupāda then added a fascinating explanation about relativity: So it requires relative intelligence. This world is relative. One can become immediately Kṛṣṇa conscious, within a second, or one may not become Kṛṣṇa conscious even after many, many births. So it is relative. If you have got sufficient intelligence, you can accept it immediately. If there is less intelligence, then it will take time. You cannot say that “It will be possible after so many years.” That cannot be said. It is relative. Everything is relative. For a human being, from here to here, one step; and for a small microbe, it is ten miles from here to here, ten miles for him. So everything is relative. This world is a relative world. There is no such formula that “One can be Kṛṣṇa conscious after so many years.” No. There is no such formula. One may not become Kṛṣṇa conscious even after millions of births, and one can become Kṛṣṇa conscious within a second. But within this life, we can become perfect in Kṛṣṇa consciousness if we take it seriously. Especially you are all young boys. We expect you’ll live at least fifty more years. Oh, that is sufficient time. Sufficient. More than sufficient. More than sufficient. If for fifty years one chants simply “Hare Kṛṣṇa, Hare Kṛṣṇa,” he is sure to become perfect. There is no doubt about it. Simply if you chant this mantra, Hare Kṛṣṇa—oh, there is no doubt about it.
Next, a question was asked why some people accept Kṛṣṇa consciousness and some do not. Prabhupāda repeated that the choice is ours. If something stopped us, it was māyā, illusion The only remedy, he said, was to take stronger shelter of Kṛṣṇa by chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa. He appealed to his listeners to induce people to chant Hare Kṛṣṇa; they would receive the real thing and become happy: Don’t be misled by thinking that “There are no problems in life. We are very happy—eating, sleeping, mating.” This is animal life. There are so many great problems. Very great problems: birth, death, old age, disease, and repeatedly. Bhūtva bhūtva pralīyate: the universe is manifested, again non-manifested, again manifested, again non-manifested. So stop this problem. Yad gatvā na nivartante tad dhāma paramaṁ mama: go to Kṛṣṇa’s abode. And what is the difficulty? You do your own work and chant Hare Kṛṣṇa. We don’t say that you stop your business, stop your occupation. You remain. Just like he is a teacher [pointing to Hayagrīva]. All right, he is a teacher. He is a jeweler [referring to Kṛṣṇadāsa]. Remain a jeweler. He’s something. He’s something. That doesn’t matter. But be Kṛṣṇa conscious. Chant Hare Kṛṣṇa. Think of Kṛṣṇa. Take kṛṣṇaprasādam. Everything is there. And be happy. That is our propaganda. You learn yourself and preach this cult. People will be happy. Simple method.
On September 11, 1969, around noon, Śrīla Prabhupāda boarded a Lufthansa flight to London. In his hand baggage, he carried the Deities of Rādhā and Kṛṣṇa he had hoped to install. In anticipation of worshiping Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa, the devotees had painted ornate letters on the plate-glass window of their storefront: Radha Krishna Tempel. But Prabhupāda had instructed his disciples to look for a better place.