Many of the youngsters would try to catch Prabhupāda in contradictions. One boy noted Prabhupāda’s statement that it was natural for a child to drink milk and not eat the meat of an animal. The boy argued that if Prabhupāda’s emphasis was on being natural, then is it natural for a child to grow up, shave his head, and serve God, or was that just another form of socialization? Another challenger asked why the International Society for Krishna Consciousness was “incorporated.” Another asked if the sādhus in India who wore long hair and wandered in the woods needed spiritual masters.

The questions revealed the guests’ uneasiness. Prabhupāda was demanding a full commitment to the truth. They could understand that if they accepted that he was presenting the truth, then they, too, like the bright-faced disciples sitting beside them in the crowded temple room, should bow down to Prabhupāda and Lord Jagannātha, join “the movement,” shave their heads, and go out chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa. At least that was the implication. So those who deeply wanted to avoid the austerity, the surrender, the uprooting of a whole lifetime of illusion, sought out the flaws, the possible contradictions. But kind and lenient though he was, Prabhupāda – never demanding that they shave their heads or live in the temple – continued to defeat their doubting arguments, expose the weakness of their atheistic reasoning, and smash the folly of their material desires. He ruled forth as Kṛṣṇa’s representative, speaking from the blue and gold velvet vyāsāsana in the front room of the Seattle house.

Woman: “I wish to see proofs of afterlife, in writing, so that I can read it and study it and examine it carefully. Is it available in writing?”

Prabhupāda: “Read Bhagavad-gītā. You’ll understand everything.”

Woman: “That’s sixty-eight volumes?”

Prabhupāda: “No, Bhagavad-gītā is one volume only. Eighteen chapters, seven hundred verses. You can read it in three days. It is not very difficult. We have published Bhagavad-gītā As It Is, and I think if you read it, you will get so many nice informations. After reading Bhagavad-gītā, you read Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam. Then you get further enlightenment. Then you read Teachings of Lord Caitanya, and you get further enlightenment. And for general information, we have this Back to Godhead you can read. It is not that simply we are talking. We are backed by sufficient knowledge and literature.”

And so it went into the evening, nine o’clock turned to ten o’clock and ten o’clock to ten-thirty.

Is bhakti-yoga for everyone? What about kuṇḍalinī-yoga? Why did Kṛṣṇa ask Arjuna to fight? What about Christ consciousness? What about the Trinity? Prabhupāda was completely absorbed in defeating arguments and answering questions about Kṛṣṇa – a samādhi of debate on behalf of his Lord Kṛṣṇa. Yes, he did expect them, if they were gentlemen, to accept his presentation as correct and to make a real commitment to Kṛṣṇa consciousness. “So here is the offering,” Prabhupāda said. “Take Kṛṣṇa consciousness. Now it is your choice. If you can take it, it is good. If you don’t take it, that is your misfortune. Is there any difficulty to accept our formula? I ask all of you, is there any difficulty? I am asking this. You have asked so many questions of me. Is there any difficulty to accept this formula?”

The assembled guests and devotees murmured in reply, “No.”

“So why don’t you take it?” Prabhupāda laughed. “It is so simple, nice. Try to understand by your knowledge. We are not pushing forcibly. You have got your intelligence, argument, logic, everything. But you’ll find it sublime. The author of Caitanya-caritāmṛta says that we are placing it for your judgment, not that we are pushing it by force. Sometimes it is said that the Mohammedans propagated their religion by holding a sword in one hand and the Koran in another hand: Either you accept Koran, or there is sword for you. Kṛṣṇa consciousness is not like that. It is placed for your judgment. And if you like, you can accept. Otherwise, I came here empty-handed, I shall go back empty-handed. There is no loss, no gain.”

Prabhupāda laughed with the satisfaction of the completely surrendered servant. Then he asked them all to chant Hare Kṛṣṇa.
Tamāla Kṛṣṇa: At that point, I could recognize that Prabhupāda was my complete lord and master. Whenever he would get up from the vyāsāsana I would just grip his feet and hold them and hold them. I would hold his feet at my head, and I wouldn’t let him walk at all. I was so eager to be at Prabhupāda’s lotus feet. I wanted to be with him as much as I could. I would feel very torn apart when he would go to another temple. I remember sometimes after the program, he would finish eating a piece of fruit and would throw the peel on the floor. We would all jump for it and fight with each other in front of the altar and Prabhupāda. We would be scrapping around like little puppies. Prabhupāda would lean back and laugh. He thought we were making very nice advancement by this.

Word got around that Prabhupāda – whose disciples were chanting downtown every day – was himself chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa and speaking in the temple on Roosevelt Way. A local TV station came out one evening to film the proceedings, bringing big cameras, microphones, and bright lights into the temple room and shooting Lord Jagannātha, the devotees dancing and singing, and excerpts of Prabhupāda speaking. The following day they returned to Prabhupāda’s apartment and filmed him playing harmonium and speaking with a woman interviewer. They turned their cameras on his personal altar, with close-ups of his Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa Deities as well as the covers of his books, Bhagavad-gītā As It Is and Teachings of Lord Caitanya. When Prabhupāda saw the footage on color TV – a few minutes of the evening news – he thought it was good. He wrote to the devotees in London, “This newscast should help our movement here in Seattle, as so many people will see and come to our temple. You can try for television appearances there also if possible.”

After the TV showing, there was a brief fame. When Prabhupāda came to the lecture the next night, the temple room was filled with about fifty extra guests, young men and women. Prabhupāda seemed pleased, but actually they were all one group, a fun-seeking fraternity house with their dates. They managed to stay through the kīrtana, but as soon as Prabhupāda began to speak, they all got up and left, leaving the devotees and the usual number of about a dozen interested guests.

The devotees were also going to the university, and among the students was considerable interest, at least casually. A representative of a student newspaper came and talked at length with Prabhupāda.

When two men came to Prabhupāda’s apartment and presented themselves as reporters, Prabhupāda’s secretary allowed them in, thinking they also wanted an interview. But their interview became an interrogation. They challenged Prabhupāda as to why he was not teaching that Jesus Christ was the only way to God. They were angry that Prabhupāda was preaching on the campuses. When Prabhupāda informed them that he accepted Jesus Christ as the son of God, they demanded, “But do you believe or not that Jesus is the only way?”

Prabhupāda replied, “Do you believe that God is limited or unlimited?”

“Unlimited,” they admitted.

“Then why are you limiting Him,” said Prabhupāda, “by saying that there is only one way to get to Him? Even an ordinary man can have twenty sons. Do you mean to say that God can have only one son? Why are you limiting Him?”

Within a few minutes, the men were speaking to Prabhupāda in loud voices. It became obvious they were not reporters, and they told him they were, in fact, local ministers. When they became blasphemous, the devotees asked them to leave the house. Prabhupāda wrote in a letter to a disciple in New York,

The priestly class of Christian and Jewish churches are becoming envious of our movement. Because they are afraid of their own system of religiosity, because they see so many young boys and girls are taking interest in this system of Krishna consciousness. Naturally, they are not very satisfied. So we may be facing some difficulty by them in the future. So, we have to take some precaution. Of course, this priestly class could not do anything very nice till now, but the dogmatic way of thinking is going on. So anyway we shall have to depend on Krishna.

Before Prabhupāda’s arrival in Seattle, Upendra had written the head of the Asian department at the University of Washington, requesting a speaking engagement. The professor wrote back entirely in Sanskrit, knowing well that the boys would not be able to read his letter. Upendra gave the letter to Prabhupāda, who immediately translated it and answered the professor with a letter written in English, but quoting many Sanskrit verses. Prabhupāda concluded his letter, “I am sorry that we cannot reply in Sanskrit. Our process is not academic, but purely spiritual.” Prabhupāda had Upendra sign the letter as if he had written it himself.

Prabhupāda went out himself to speak in several colleges. At the University of Washington, he had Tamāla Kṛṣṇa give an introductory talk. Speaking directly what he had heard from Prabhupāda, Tamāla Kṛṣṇa spoke boldly about “so-called holy men or swamis who are cheating the public.” He took considerable care to demonstrate that “our spiritual master” is in complete agreement with Lord Jesus and the Bible. The Bible is bona fide, he said, but like a pocket dictionary compared to the unabridged.

“There is a need to hear a person like our spiritual master, A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami, speak,” said Tamāla Kṛṣṇa. He then read an article from the New York Daily News, headlined “Retreat for Priests Who Drink,” featuring a sanatorium that had been opened for some of the five thousand alcoholic priests in the United States. “I’m not saying that all priests are like this,” he said. “That’s not at all what I’m trying to get at. But the article goes on to say that alcoholism is not treated as a moral failure, but as a disease. But that’s absurd. It is a moral failure. These priests have the choice to drink or not to drink. They chose to drink and get drunk. These are men who are leading us back to God.

“The point is, you must have someone who is pure. To teach about God requires a moral qualification. Our spiritual master spends a hundred percent of his time in praise of the Supreme Lord. We ask you today, please listen closely and just try to understand his teachings. Just listen and test with your reasoning ability and your intellect to see whether this is not the bona fide way to the Absolute Truth. Now let His Divine Grace A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupāda speak.”

Prabhupāda listened from the orange cloth-covered dais where he sat in the auditorium. Tamāla Kṛṣṇa had stood and spoken, and now he joined the other saffron-robed men and the women in sārīs who sat at Prabhupāda’s feet. His voice echoing with amplification in the large hall, Prabhupāda spoke to an audience of over a hundred. He quoted the verse oṁ ajñāna-timirāndhasya, explaining that everyone in the material world is in darkness, and the spiritual master is he who opens our eyes with the torch of knowledge. If human society does not have the urge to come to the light by searching after God, then mankind is no better than the animals.

To illustrate the point that human society is in a precarious condition for lack of God consciousness, Prabhupāda told “a very nice story.”

“One rat,” he said, “was troubled with a cat, so he came to a saintly person.

“ ‘My dear sir, I am very much troubled.’

“ ‘What is the difficulty?’

“The rat said, ‘The cat always chases, so I am not in peace of mind.’

“ ‘Then what do you want?’

“ ‘Please make me a cat.’

“ ‘All right, you become a cat.’ But after a few days, the cat returned to the saintly person and complained that he was being chased by the dogs. The saintly person gave him the benediction, ‘All right, become a dog.’ Then the foxes chased the dog. The saintly person blessed him again, ‘All right, become a fox.’ Then the tigers chased him. The saintly person turned him into a tiger.

“And when he became a tiger,” Prabhupāda continued, “he began to stare his eyes on the saintly person, ‘I shall eat you.’

“ ‘Oh! You shall eat me? I have made you tiger, and you want to eat me?’

“ ‘Yes, I am a tiger and I shall eat you.’

“ ‘Oh,’ then the saintly person cursed him, ‘again you become a rat. Again you become a rat.’ So he became a rat.

“So our human civilization is going to be like that. The other day I was reading in your world almanac. In the next hundred years, people will live underground like rats. So our scientific advancement has created this atomic bomb to kill man, and it will be used. And we have to go underground to become again rat. From tiger again rat. That is going to be. That is nature’s law: daivī hy eṣā guṇa-mayī mama māyā duratyayā. If you defy the laws of your state, then you are put into difficulty. Similarly, if you continue to defy the authority, the supremacy of the Supreme Lord, Personality of Godhead, then the same result – again you become rat. As soon as there is atomic bomb, everything, all civilization on the surface of the globe, will be finished. So people may not like it. It may be very unpalatable, but the fact is like that.”

Prabhupāda explained that the God consciousness he was advocating was not a particular rigid religion like Christian or Hindu or Muslim, but it was universal. He explained the word dharma as one’s characteristic, that which cannot be taken away. The unalterable characteristic of the living entity, he said, is the tendency to love and do service, and that is our eternal religion.

“So I do not wish to take much of your time,” Prabhupāda concluded after no more than ten minutes, “but simply I want to impress upon you that this chanting of Hare Kṛṣṇa is so nice that if you give an experimental way, you can see. You chant for at least one week, and you see how much you have changed. So these boys, they are chanting in the street. We have got many branches in your country, one in London, one in Germany, and everyone is taking part. It is increasing. So we don’t charge anything, neither you have got any loss. If there is any profit, you can try it, but there is not loss. That is guaranteed. Chant Hare Kṛṣṇa, Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare / Hare Rāma, Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare. Thank you very much.”

During his stay in Seattle, a few people came to join his disciples, living with them and aspiring to become devotees. After several weeks, Prabhupāda held an initiation for students who had already been with ISKCON for about six months. Prabhupāda held the traditional initiation ceremony with mantras and fire yajña in the temple room. He had just completed the last mantras, had turned to the devotees, and said, “Now chant Hare Kṛṣṇa,” when a guest, a woman who had some local fame as a haṭha-yoga instructor, interrupted the proceedings.

“Excuse me,” she began, “I have to speak to you.”

“Please wait,” said Prabhupāda.

“Why are you sitting on a raised seat?” she exclaimed. “You are sitting up there, and all these people are sitting here, and you’re like you’re on a throne.” Devotees tried politely to check her, but she wanted to be heard. Prabhupāda was silent.

“Why does everyone bow to you?” she demanded. “Don’t you know God is everywhere? Everyone is God.”

“That’s all right,” said Prabhupāda. “Let us chant.” Her argument was drowned out by a rousing kīrtana celebrating the completion of the initiation ceremony. When the kīrtana ended, Prabhupāda was still thinking of the disruptive guest.

Prabhupāda: “Where is that girl? She is gone?”

Viṣṇujana: “I think Madhudviṣa explained to her. She didn’t know about the bowing down and everything.”

Prabhupāda: “What was her question?”

Viṣṇujana: “She was thinking that we were bowing to you as if you were God. She resents this because in the Christian religion it says, ‘Bow down to no man.’ ”

“What did you explain?” Prabhupāda laughed. “Did you not explain that we are bowing down not as God but as God’s representative? Could you not explain like this?”

“She’s over there, I think,” said Madhudviṣa, “if you’d like to talk to her.” But the yoginī had left the room and was now out front talking with the new girl, Joy, who had been living with Prabhupāda’s disciples since his first night in Seattle. The yoginī was trying to revive Joy’s old interest in impersonal yoga and was criticizing Prabhupāda. Although Joy had cried when Prabhupāda was blasphemed, she became confused hearing the yoginī speak impersonal, antidevotional philosophy.

Then as Prabhupāda was leaving the temple to get into his car, the yoginī obstructed his path and continued her blasphemy.

“No one should bow down,” she railed, “because everyone is God.”

Prabhupāda became angry, a fiery look in his wide eyes. Suddenly Joy Fulcher came forward and threw herself on the ground before Prabhupāda, placing her hand on his foot. She had been confused about whom to accept, but now felt compelled to surrender to Prabhupāda. He allowed her to keep her hand on his foot while the yoginī gradually subsided before Prabhupāda’s angry silence and let him pass. Getting into the van, Prabhupāda bumped his head on the inside of the roof. The devotees were furious and blamed the blasphemous girl for what happened. As the van drove away, Prabhupāda turned to Nara-Nārāyaṇa, who was driving. “That girl said everyone is God. But she objected that they were bowing down to me. But if everyone is God, am I not also God?”

The devotees in Seattle were trying to save Joy, who had become confused by the visit of the yoginī. The next day they arranged that she should go see Prabhupāda on the plea that she was an artist and could perhaps do some devotional paintings. Prabhupāda agreed, and she waited outside his room while he gave Jīvānanda a drum lesson. Finally, she entered Prabhupāda’s room.

Jāhnavā dāsī (Joy Fulcher): Prabhupāda asked, “What kind of girl is it who sees every man as God?” He was referring to the troublesome girl who had blasphemed at the initiation. I didn’t understand him, so he repeated the question, then a third time, and added, “She’s a prostitute, isn’t she?!” Fortunately, Govinda dāsī walked in at that moment and was able to tell me later what his question had been. At the time, all I knew was that I accepted His Divine Grace as spiritual master and that the answer to his question (no matter what it was) was “Yes.” So I answered, “Yes, Śrīla Prabhupāda.” And he was pleased. Then he warned, “Don’t associate with nondevotees.”

I wanted him to know that I accepted him without doubt as my spiritual master. Very sentimentally, I said, “Śrīla Prabhupāda, I have always had trouble with my material father and mother, but now I can understand that you are my real father.” His Divine Grace mercifully matched my tone and gently said, “Everyone has a material father and mother, but you have a spiritual father. You are very fortunate.”

I was crazy and had trouble seeing him because he appeared very effulgent, so I was wiping my eyes with my hands. Also I couldn’t understand his accent, so I kept wiping my ears with my hands. His Divine Grace took compassion on my struggle to be Kṛṣṇa conscious. He then penetrated my impersonalism with a beautiful description of Lord Kṛṣṇa’s form. As I sat facing him, he was looking past me, over my shoulder. His Divine Grace said, “Just see how beautifully Lord Kṛṣṇa’s hair is resting on His shoulders. Just see how His eyes are beautiful, like two lotus petals. Just see how nicely Lord Kṛṣṇa has wrapped His shawl about His thighs. Just see how nicely He has put on His dhotī.” He also mentioned the Lord’s lotus feet. I don’t know whether he was looking at a Deity or a picture of Kṛṣṇa or whether Lord Kṛṣṇa was standing there, as he looked up and down, describing His form. All I knew was that if I turned around I would see a painting or brass or air. So I decided just to look at His Divine Grace and hear him describe Lord Kṛṣṇa as he saw Him.

After I left the room, Govinda dāsī asked what His Divine Grace had said about painting. She couldn’t believe it when I told her we didn’t discuss painting for the whole hour. (Knowing that the spiritual master knows everything, I had waited for him to bring up the subject and give me that service.) She brought me back and explained to him the purpose for which I had come. He asked my artistic background and was unimpressed when I rattled it off, because I was proud. Then he ordered me to paint the Pañca-tattva.

Not only new recruits but older devotees were being drawn closer to Prabhupāda by the mercy of Kṛṣṇa. In the Sanskrit scriptures, the word upanīti means “coming closer to the spiritual master for the purpose of receiving more confidential instructions in Kṛṣṇa consciousness.” Prabhupāda also took the opportunity of any meeting with his disciples to try to bring them closer to the Lord.

Nara-Nārāyaṇa: One of the most deeply impressive things that happened to me was the very first time I sat alone with Śrīla Prabhupāda. I had been with Śrīla Prabhupāda in San Francisco before in his room, but there were other people there, and I was a newcomer. But then I sat alone with Śrīla Prabhupāda, and I was terribly fearful because I didn’t know what to do, what to say. I was a little spaced out from all my karmic activities and was totally tense, like I was going to explode like a jack-in-the-box, because I didn’t know what to do. I watched Śrīla Prabhupāda opening letters. He opened the envelope all the way out and saved it and used it later to write on in order to save paper. He showed me some letter from somewhere and asked my opinion. Then he asked me to get something from his cabinet, and I did.

His room was surrounded by windows, with light shining in from a very nice angle because of the way it was a little subterranean. The table was very low, just like a coffee table, and he was sitting behind it. I happened to be in the back against the wall, and he asked me to get something from one of his cabinets which was also behind there. So he and I both ended up behind his low table. He was standing and I was crouching. When I stood up, Śrīla Prabhupāda, out of the blue, began to talk to me. I was just so flabbergasted. Anytime he spoke to me, I became so disconcerted that I could hardly hear what he was saying. He pointed to the table.

He said, “You see this little ant?” I looked at the table and no ant was there. Prabhupāda was pointing his finger. He said, “Do you see that little ant?” I said, “Yes, Śrīla Prabhupāda.” He said, “We should think that our goal should be how to make this ant Kṛṣṇa conscious.” I was just sort of blown away by what he said. He said, “We should go to this ant and we should lean down,” and Prabhupāda leaned down to the invisible ant on the table where he propped his forefinger and thumb together, poking toward the ant. “You should chant Hare Kṛṣṇa.” And he said, “We should give a little prasādam. If we do that,” he said, “our whole movement will be a success.” I was completely impressed by the statement because I understood even though Śrīla Prabhupāda always had big schemes for a big world ISKCON, yet his heart was always lined with these small items, and this was so wonderful. If one person hears Hare Kṛṣṇa, then it is worth the whole effort.

Love for Śrīla Prabhupāda was also brought out by the prospect of separation from him. Govinda dāsī and her husband had been Prabhupāda’s secretaries for a year. They had been with him wherever he went – from the West Coast, to Boston, to Montreal, to Santa Fe. They were always with him, like a part of his intimate family, and they had become very attached to being with him. But in his desire to spread Kṛṣṇa consciousness, Prabhupāda sent Govinda dāsī’s husband, Gaurasundara, to Hawaii before coming to Seattle, to open an ISKCON center there. In Seattle Prabhupāda asked Govinda dāsī to join her husband.

Govinda dāsī: If Prabhupāda said, “Very nice,” your life was perfect – whether he said it for your cooking capātīs or peanuts, or doing a drawing, or a kīrtana, or anything. If he said, “Very nice,” and smiled and nodded his head, then your life’s ambition was achieved, for that moment anyway. Getting him to smile, seeing him happy, was the goal of life, and you didn’t really remember things like liberation. It was almost as if the idea of going to a heavenly planet or even Kṛṣṇaloka became distant.

But at this time I knew that I was going to have to leave Śrīla Prabhupāda soon. I was so very, very attached to him that I would wake up in the middle of the night crying. Almost every night I would invariably be crying in my dreams or in my sleep because of having to leave him soon, and I didn’t want to. It was a very painful time.