Vṛndāvana
October 17, 1972

PRABHUPĀDA HAD COME to Vṛndāvana to observe the Kārttika season (from October 16 to November 14). He planned to lecture daily at the samādhi of Rūpa Gosvāmī in the courtyard of the Rādhā-Dāmodara temple, speaking from The Nectar of Devotion, his own translation of Rūpa Gosvāmī’s book, Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu. On his Western tour he had invited devotees to join him for Kārttika in Vṛndāvana, and now a few dozen devotees from America, Europe, India, and other parts of the world had gathered to be with him.

He was concerned with developing his Vṛndāvana project, so rather than immediately rushing to Bombay, he had come here first, sending some of his leading disciples to tackle the problems in Bombay. Now, like a general engaged on a different front, he awaited word from his lieutenants in Bombay. He moved into his two small rooms at the Rādhā-Dāmodara temple, while his disciples stayed nearby in the former palace of the Mahārāja of Bharatpur, an old building near the Yamunā.

Although Prabhupāda was introducing his disciples to Vṛndāvana, he was also introducing the residents of Vṛndāvana to his disciples. Already his group was encountering some of the same attitudes Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī and his party of pilgrims had met in 1932: the people’s refusal to accept lowborn persons as Vaiṣṇavas. Prabhupāda trusted, however, that if his disciples could construct a wonderful temple for Kṛṣṇa and Balarāma, the hearts of the Vṛndāvana residents would change, and they would accept his disciples. He tolerated the roughness and slowness of his disciples, and when Vṛndāvana residents came to see him, he humbly requested they also overlook his disciples’ faults and recognize them as genuine devotees of Kṛṣṇa; after all, they had given up sinful life and were regularly chanting the holy names of God.

Prabhupāda lectured both morning and evening. Sitting on a simple āsana about two feet high, a bare bulb suspended over his head, Prabhupāda would address his disciples and the few interested guests who sat before him.

Some of the devotees had speculated that since they were now in Vṛndāvana, Prabhupāda would probably talk on highly elevated spiritual topics, such as Kṛṣṇa’s rasa with the gopīs. But it was not so. Rather, one of his disciples would read from The Nectar of Devotion, and Prabhupāda would interject extensive philosophical comments on attaining pure love of Kṛṣṇa through the successive stages of bhakti-yoga.

While Prabhupāda’s talks were especially for his disciples, he also stressed that the brāhmaṇas of India accept the Western Vaiṣṇavas. And he cited dozens of scriptural references to prove his point that birth status, being a material designation, did not apply in spiritual life. Stressing preaching as the essence of Kṛṣṇa consciousness, he urged the disciples present to continue propagating the Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement.

Prabhupāda’s disciples were thrilled by these talks and by Prabhupāda’s personal dealings with them in the intimate atmosphere of his rooms at the Rādhā-Dāmodara temple, which he referred to as his “eternal residence,” the place where he had actually begun his plans for the Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement. His disciples could hear him rise early and begin translating Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam and dictating his purports. At ārati time, he would open the shutters of his room and behold the Deities. At other times the devotees might see him walking on the terrace chanting japa. And they found him always available to answer their questions and help them with their personal problems.

Tamāla Kṛṣṇa Goswami, Śyāmasundara, and Karandhara arrived in Bombay. Things had worsened, Girirāja informed them. When Mr. N. had seen the notice in the newspaper publicly advising that ISKCON had entered into an agreement for the Juhu property, he had become furious. Girirāja had gone to him with folded hands and bowed down before him, but Mr. N. would not be appeased. He had gone back on all his promises and had canceled the sales agreement, on the plea that the devotees had not obtained the deed within a six-month period. The two-lakh down payment, he had claimed, was now his, and the devotees should vacate the land immediately.

Mr. N. had shut off the water supply to Hare Krishna Land. Several days later, a hoodlum had shown up at the entrance to the property, brandishing a machete whenever devotees passed by. A friend of Mr. N. had printed a handbill ascribing scandalous behavior to the American Hare Kṛṣṇa devotees and was having it distributed at the nearby Vile Parle train station. Although a few devotees had left and others wanted to, about thirty devotees still remained in Bombay.

The first thing to do, Karandhara said, was to find a new lawyer, and he went to Bombay’s most prominent solicitors and hired a specialist in land transactions and conveyances. Next, the leading devotees and their solicitor met with Mr. N. in his office. Mr. N. was stubborn and uncooperative, and the ISKCON lawyer was threatening. A court battle seemed inevitable.

Tamāla Kṛṣṇa Goswami, Karandhara, Bhavānanda, and Śyāmasundara talked together, and the more they talked, the more they began to see the entire Juhu scheme as impossible. Even without Mr. N.’s treachery, just to live on the land was very difficult. The devotees and the Deities had such poor living facilities that the roof leaked and the cement floor was crumbling. Rats, flies, cockroaches, village dogs, and mosquitoes infested the place – with even an occasional poisonous snake. Devotees were always contracting tropical diseases, especially malaria and hepatitis.

So although ISKCON’s new lawyer was prepared to take the case to court, the devotees were hesitant. Mr. N. had said that they – not he – were criminals, because they had not gotten permission from the charity commissioner; they were on his land illegally. He said he would sue for damages. He even seemed to be on the verge of some violent action. Considering all angles, the leaders whom Prabhupāda had entrusted to solve the Juhu entanglement decided that ISKCON should relinquish the land. Drafting a joint letter to Śrīla Prabhupāda, they had Śyāmasundara hand-deliver it to him in Vṛndāvana.

Sitting in his room at the Rādhā-Dāmodara temple, Śrīla Prabhupāda read the letter from Bombay and then set it aside. He walked out into the open courtyard. In the last light of day many birds were chirping, and the devotees sat on the ground on a dhurrie, waiting. Prabhupāda sat on the simple raised seat and began singing Jaya Rādhā-Mādhava.

He had Pradyumna read, stopping him to explain a point whenever he felt inclined. He spoke of the special benefits of residing in Vṛndāvana, but warned that one should not come to the dhāma to do business or to commit any offenses. If, however, a Vṛndāvana resident did commit an offense, he could still receive the special benefits – provided he remained “sticking to the dust of Vṛndāvana.”

Night fell, and in the dark courtyard Prabhupāda continued lecturing beneath the dim electric bulbs. Visiting pilgrims came and went, watching “the Swamiji” lecturing in English to his Western disciples.

After the question-and-answer period, Prabhupāda walked back to his room, exchanging words along the way with Gaurachand Goswami, the temple proprietor. Some devotees lingered in Prabhupāda’s room, and many Indians peered through the barred windows, although they had never cared to look years ago, before the room’s permanent resident, Bhaktivedanta Swami, had gone to America.

When Prabhupāda was finally alone, he began to think of Bombay. Although hundreds of miles away, the occurrences there were beating on his heart here in Vṛndāvana. He took out his copy of the agreement he had signed with Mr. N. Then he called his secretary and began dictating a letter to his leaders in Bombay.

He began his letter like a lawyer, answering logically, point by point. One reason his disciples had given for wanting to give up the land was that the charity commissioner had refused them permission. In that case, Prabhupāda reasoned, they should try to get back the money and give up the land. But it appeared that the charity commissioner’s permission was delayed, not denied – a small matter. Although Mr. N. had mentioned a six-month time limit for obtaining the charity commissioner’s approval, Prabhupāda pointed out that the original agreement mentioned no such time limit.

Another reason Prabhupāda’s men had given for wanting to relinquish the land was that, according to Mr. N., they had failed to obtain the conveyance within six months, as per the original sales agreement. Prabhupāda replied that, according to the clause in question, “it is our option to rescind the contract within six months, not the vendor’s.” But the real point was that Mr. N. had accepted checks worth one lakh rupees as down payment within the six-month period, and therefore the sales agreement was completed.

… we consider that he has completed the conveyance and we do not want to rescind but we shall close the deal immediately, finished, that’s all. He’s trying to avoid this issue by tricks, and he has dominated you and you are little afraid of him, and he has fooled you to think he is in superior legal position so that you will give him some money. But this is cheating. We shall not give him any more money. Don’t pay him any more. First of all bring a criminal case against him. … So why you should be disappointed and afraid of him? Our position is very, very strong.

If Mr. N. was threatening violence, that also was not grounds for quitting the land. The devotees were on the land legally and should seek police protection.

Therefore I say that you boys cannot deal very well in these matters, because you are too timid. Now whatever you like you may do. Immediately criminal case should be taken, that you are not doing because he is bluffing you. He says big words and makes threats and you believe him foolishly and do like he says. That I shall not do.

Prabhupāda’s conclusive advice was that the devotees go to the magistrate and tell him, “We gave Mr. N. money, and now he is threatening violence to drive us away.” They should not be afraid.

Prabhupāda had not come to Vṛndāvana only to lecture; he wanted to begin construction on his new property. And the news from Bombay didn’t distract him from his purpose. Every day he would have the devotees hold a saṅkīrtana procession from the Rādhā-Dāmodara temple to the property at Ramaṇa-reti. He would also go out occasionally to see the site, still nothing more than grass huts, a wire fence, and a small stock of building materials. Subala, the disciple in charge of construction, was slow and reluctant, and Prabhupāda sent for Tamāla Kṛṣṇa Goswami to come from Bombay and take charge.

Early one morning Subala left the land at Ramaṇa-reti, where he had been staying, and approached Śrīla Prabhupāda on the roof of the Rādhā-Dāmodara temple. “Prabhupāda,” he said, “I am having so much difficulty. I don’t have time to read, I can’t chant my rounds properly, I can’t think of Kṛṣṇa. I’m always thinking of how this contractor is cheating us, or I’m thinking of signing checks for labor and materials. It’s just too much. All these things on my mind are stopping me from thinking of Kṛṣṇa.”

“Do you think Arjuna was simply meditating on Kṛṣṇa on the battlefield of Kurukṣetra?” Prabhupāda replied. “Do you think Arjuna was sitting in yogic trance, while on the battlefield Kṛṣṇa worked? No, he was fighting. He was killing for Kṛṣṇa. He was thinking of all the soldiers he had to kill for Kṛṣṇa.

“Thinking of the checkbook, thinking of the men, thinking of the contractors – this is also like Arjuna’s thinking. This is Kṛṣṇa’s service. You should not worry about thinking of Kṛṣṇa directly. Arjuna wasn’t sitting before Kṛṣṇa in a trance, meditating on His form. He was engaged in Kṛṣṇa’s service. Similarly this is Kṛṣṇa’s service, and you should engage. Your life is full of Kṛṣṇa’s service, and that is very good.”

Subala was still unsatisfied. He complained to Prabhupāda that the other devotees wouldn’t cooperate with him. He wanted to go into seclusion in Vṛndāvana for the rest of his life and chant, instead of becoming a full-time preacher in ISKCON.

Śrīla Prabhupāda asked, “What do you mean, no one will listen to you? You think that means they are defective? No, you are defective.” Prabhupāda raised his voice. “If you are preaching and no one will listen, don’t think you should go away in disgust and save yourself by chanting. No, that is not our line. We must qualify ourselves so they will listen. Do you know the story of Mr. Beecham?”

Subala shook his head.

“No one would buy his medicine,” Prabhupāda continued, “so he became anxious. Still he tried, and one day a man approached him in his shop and asked if he had any Beecham’s Powder, and in excitement that someone had asked for his medicine, he died. Similarly, better we spend our whole life and die just to make one person Kṛṣṇa conscious. That is our line, to become so absorbed in preaching Kṛṣṇa, whether in Vṛndāvana or anywhere. We must save all these asuras from destroying the world.”

In stressing active service and practical results, Śrīla Prabhupāda was exactly following the teaching and example of his spiritual master. According to Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī, to chant in a secluded place and not preach was “a cheating process.” Devotional service meant practical work for Kṛṣṇa. The simple, positive way to control the senses was to engage them fully in the service of Kṛṣṇa. Active service was the topmost yoga, Prabhupāda told Subala, a fact that he had repeatedly explained in his books. In the recently published Second Canto of Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, he had written,

Here it is clearly mentioned that the inhabitants of Vṛndāvana were extensively busy in the hard labor of their day’s work, and due to the day’s hard labor they were engaged in sound sleep at night. So practically they had very little time to devote to meditation or to the other paraphernalia of spiritual activities. But factually they were engaged in the highest spiritual activities only. Everything done by them was spiritualized because everything was dovetailed in their relationship with Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa. The central point of activities was Kṛṣṇa, and as such the so-called activities in the material world were saturated with spiritual potency. That is the advantage of the way of bhakti-yoga. One should discharge one’s duty on Lord Kṛṣṇa’s behalf, and all one’s actions will be saturated with Kṛṣṇa thought, the highest pattern of trance in spiritual realization.

As far as possible, Prabhupāda engaged each disciple in a certain service according to the particular disciple’s psychophysical nature. But everyone had to take up some kind of work for Kṛṣṇa. Since Prabhupāda desired to build a temple in Vṛndāvana, then whoever would help him do it, whether they were trained or not, or whether it was their tendency or not – whoever offered him assistance – would become very dear to him and to Lord Kṛṣṇa.

When a householder couple, Gurudāsa and Yamunā, agreed to remain in Vṛndāvana to help Prabhupāda build the temple, Prabhupāda welcomed it and shared with them the intention of his plan.

If you can construct a nice temple in Vrndavana for me in this way, I shall be eternally grateful. Because we are a worldwide movement of Krishna, and if we do not have a nice place at Vrndavana, then what will be the use? Vrndavana is Krishna’s land, and in the future many of our disciples will go there just to see, along with many tourists and other friends, so therefore we must have sufficient place for them. … I know that you are not trained up for being construction manager, neither that job must be very tasteful to you, but because you are sincere devotee of Krishna, He is giving you all strength and intelligence how to do it. That is what we want; that is advancement in Krishna consciousness.

By the time Prabhupāda and most of his disciples left Vṛndāvana at the end of Kārttika, relations between his disciples and the residents of Vṛndāvana had improved. The people of Vṛndāvana were impressed by the devotees’ daily saṅkīrtana procession to Ramaṇa-reti, and they were impressed by Prabhupāda. Although Prabhupāda felt that much time had been wasted – it had been a year since Mr. S. had offered them the land – he was now hopeful.

ISKCON projects were developing all over the world, and all were struggling. The devotees’ only means of income was from the sale of books and, to some degree, from their Spiritual Sky incense business. As yet Prabhupāda had no architectural plan for his Vṛndāvana project, but he determined to gather from his Book Fund and from devotees enough money for materials and labor. One day he went to the building site and asked a devotee to mix a little cement, and with his own hand, he laid down the first concrete for the foundation.

Hyderabad
November 11, 1972
Prabhupāda had come to Hyderabad for a paṇḍāl program. Big crowds attended his lectures, and wherever he went, even while getting into and out of his car, people surrounded him to touch his lotus feet. Although Hyderabad had been suffering from drought, a few days after Prabhupāda’s arrival rains came. One newspaper suggested that the harināma-kīrtana Śrīla Prabhupāda and his devotees performed so enthusiastically must have ended the drought. Prabhupāda agreed.

Śrīla Prabhupāda met with Mr. N., who was visiting Hyderabad from Bombay. Śyāmasundara still had a cordial relationship with Mr. N., because Mr. N. had been fond of his three-year-old daughter, Sarasvatī. So he went to Mr. N. and convinced him to speak to Prabhupāda. Mr. N. agreed, but being suspicious that Prabhupāda might try to use mystic power to persuade him to do something against his will, he brought a guru with him, thinking the guru would counteract Prabhupāda’s spiritual power.

Mr. N., his guru, and Śyāmasundara all came to the home of Panilal Prithi, where Prabhupāda was staying. Prabhupāda met informally with his guests, conversing with them over prasādam, until he yawned, and Mr. N.’s guru said, “Oh, Swami, you must be very tired. We should not disturb you now. You should rest, and we may talk later.”

“Oh, yes,” Prabhupāda replied, “I am very tired.”

So Mr. N. and his guru excused themselves and retired to the adjoining room.

After a few minutes Prabhupāda called Tamāla Kṛṣṇa Goswami into his room. “When someone asks you if you are tired,” Prabhupāda said, “it means he is tired. If you go into the other room, you will see that they are sleeping.” He instructed Tamāla Kṛṣṇa to carefully awaken Mr. N. without disturbing his guru and bring him in.

Tiptoeing into the room, Tamāla Kṛṣṇa found both Mr. N. and his guru asleep on the beds. He went over to Mr. N., touched his arm, and said quietly, “Mr. N., Mr. N., wake up. Prabhupāda would like to speak with you. Come quickly.” Mr. N., being roused from his slumber, obediently walked into Prabhupāda’s room, forgetting his guru friend.

For two hours Prabhupāda talked with Mr. N., and by the end of the discussion they had worked out a new sales agreement. Tamāla Kṛṣṇa and Śyāmasundara, working in a separate room, drafted and typed the documents, while Prabhupāda and Mr. N. settled the final legal points. Then Mr. N. signed the agreement, while his guru friend continued sleeping soundly.

Later that day Tamāla Kṛṣṇa confided to Śrīla Prabhupāda, “I am so disturbed by these dealings that I can’t chant my rounds properly.”

“That is natural,” Prabhupāda replied. “Sometimes when I am disturbed, I also.”

“But I can see that I am making spiritual advancement, even so,” Tamāla Kṛṣṇa admitted.

Prabhupāda nodded.

“I used to think how to avoid difficult situations,” Tamāla Kṛṣṇa said. “But now I think I should not run away from them.”

“Yes,” said Prabhupāda, “we should welcome these. They give us an opportunity to advance more.”

Śyāmasundara and Tamāla Kṛṣṇa Goswami flew back to Bombay with Mr. N. that afternoon. According to the new terms, ISKCON would pay Mr. N. the five lakhs of rupees for the government tax, and in return Mr. N. would execute the deed. But there was also a new time limit – three weeks – and the devotees would have to work fast. Prabhupāda himself would soon come to Bombay to settle the matter once and for all.