PRABHUPĀDA TRAVELED BY train from Bombay to Mathurā. Brahmānanda carried him in his arms from the train to a waiting car, and within fifteen to twenty-five minutes Prabhupāda was back in Vṛndāvana.

The devotees at the Krishna-Balaram Mandir were upset to see that Prabhupāda’s condition had deteriorated so much in the one month he had been away. His room was as he had left it, except for the addition of a large double bed. He lay down, and they closed the curtains and dimmed the lights. For about five minutes he lay still, with his eyes closed.

“Now you are home, Śrīla Prabhupāda,” said Tamāla Kṛṣṇa.

Still Śrīla Prabhupāda lay quietly, not moving. Then slowly he brought his hands to his chest, clasped them together, and said, “Thank you.” He seemed relieved.

“Now you are in the care of Kṛṣṇa-Balarāma,” said Tamāla Kṛṣṇa.

Śrīla Prabhupāda smiled and nodded slightly. “Yes,” he said. “Kṛṣṇa tvadīya-pada-paṅkaja-pañjarāntam,” indicating King Kulaśekhara’s prayer to Lord Kṛṣṇa: “My dear Kṛṣṇa, please help me die immediately so that the swan of my mind may be encircled by the stem of Your lotus feet. Otherwise, at the time of my final breath, how will it be possible for me to think of You?”

Although Śrīla Prabhupāda was in a precarious state, he remained completely fixed in thought of Kṛṣṇa in one way or another – Kṛṣṇa’s name, His form, His pastimes, or His devotional service. Prabhupāda suggested going to see Kṛṣṇa and Balarāma at nine-thirty, just as he had done before, but his servants advised that he rest today and begin that program tomorrow. “Whatever you desire, I will do,” Prabhupāda said.

Tamāla Kṛṣṇa asked Prabhupāda if he wanted the kavirāja to come.

“As you said, Prabhupāda, for better or worse, some husband must be there.”

Śrīla Prabhupāda nodded. “Now manage everything,” he said, “and let me think of Kṛṣṇa-Balarāma.”

A little before four in the afternoon, while devotees were reading aloud from Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, Prabhupāda asked if the temple bell had rung the hour. Ever since the temple opening in 1975, he had insisted that the bell at the front gate be rung every hour to signify the hour and once every half hour. At first, the temple president had been unable to get a watchman who would remain awake through the night and ring the bell regularly. But Śrīla Prabhupāda had insisted so strongly that the temple management had finally established the bell-ringing. For Śrīla Prabhupāda, it was more than just a good standard; it was a symbol of the entire temple management’s effectiveness. If they couldn’t even arrange that the bell be rung regularly, then how could they manage everything else? Now Śrīla Prabhupāda was saying he thought he heard the bell ring at the wrong time. Tamāla Kṛṣṇa explained it might have been a different bell, and the devotees continued reading Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam. But Śrīla Prabhupāda again asked about the bell in the temple dome. As Hari-śauri rose to go out and check, the bell began loudly ringing – one… two… three… four – properly sounding the hour.

“That is my concern,” said Prabhupāda, “that such a huge establishment is properly managed. If not properly managed, then everything will be finished.”

“I don’t think that that’s going to happen,” said Tamāla Kṛṣṇa. “We are too much indebted to you to allow what you have established to become spoiled.”

“Please see to that,” said Prabhupāda.

Nevertheless, Śrīla Prabhupāda called for Akṣayānanda Swami and, as soon as he came into the room, inquired from him, “Will the bell ring or not?” Akṣayānanda promised to diligently see to it, taking the instruction very seriously, as perhaps his last order from his spiritual master.

The pūjārī entered and gave Prabhupāda a large, fragrant tulasī garland from Kṛṣṇa-Balarāma, and Prabhupāda returned to listening to the reading.

Later in the day, he confided to Tamāla Kṛṣṇa about the past few weeks. “I must thank you,” he said, “that you took me to London and again brought me here without any difficulty. That is a great credit for you. For that I am thanking you. In this condition, a bundle of bones – still you did it. Kṛṣṇa will bless you.”

Hari-śauri had obtained another detailed astrological chart on Śrīla Prabhupāda from Delhi. This astrologer recommended a mantra to Lord Śiva to be chanted by ten brāhmaṇas for twenty-one days.

“We have the mahā-mantra,” said Śrīla Prabhupāda. “There is no need of others.” He spoke disapprovingly of the suggestion.

“Are these astrological charts very much applicable for devotees, Śrīla Prabhupāda?” asked Hari-śauri.

“No,” said Prabhupāda. “Don’t waste money for this astrology.”

Śrīla Prabhupāda’s faith was only in kīrtana. Tamāla Kṛṣṇa suggested they again have continuous kīrtana, and Prabhupāda said, “That is real business. These astrologers are karmīs. We have nothing to do with the karmīs.”

In response to Śrīla Prabhupāda’s call, the twenty-three G.B.C. members again began gathering in Vṛndāvana. They arrived heavy-hearted, yet on coming before Śrīla Prabhupāda they were pleased to give him progress reports on their preaching on his behalf. Śrīla Prabhupāda was happy to hear the reports and was as encouraging as ever to his leaders, despite his condition.

Haṁsadūta Swami was one of the first to arrive, from Sri Lanka. Śrīla Prabhupāda instructed him to develop farm projects there, as Kīrtanānanda Swami had done in New Vrindaban. “Sometimes when preaching,” said Haṁsadūta, “I tell them, ‘What kind of country is this? The land is of the rājarṣis, and some lady is running the government!’ ”

“Do not touch politics,” Prabhupāda warned. “We are cultural and philosophy.”

Prabhupāda began dealing with Girirāja over bank matters. The local Vṛndāvana bank was reluctant to allow a withdrawal from an ISKCON fund, and Śrīla Prabhupāda had to be called in for advice. He gave keen, practical strategy for solving the problem, but he asked to be spared these things in the future. Devotees in the room were amazed to see Prabhupāda still dealing expertly with such affairs. When Girirāja apologized to Prabhupāda for involving him, Prabhupāda replied, “Therefore I said, do the needful.”

Actually, Prabhupāda’s calling the G.B.C. men together had been so they could chant for him. Now, more than ever, he wanted the medicine of the holy name, not of the doctors. When he heard that his friend Dr. Ghosh was coming to Vṛndāvana to open a clinic and that he could prescribe treatment, he refused the offer. “These doctors will come and give something to try and save,” he said. “I don’t want to be saved. Dr. Ghosh may come for the clinic he wants to develop, but not for my treatment.” Tamāla Kṛṣṇa asked if they could at least call in some local Vṛndāvana doctors.

“No,” said Prabhupāda. “Let us take your advice for kīrtana only.” Tamāla Kṛṣṇa agreed that kīrtana was best, because in that way they were pleading for Kṛṣṇa’s help.

“Better you don’t pray to Kṛṣṇa to save me,” said Śrīla Prabhupāda. “Let me die now.” Prabhupāda then asked to sit up. “If Haṁsadūta is not tired,” he said, “he can continue singing.”

When Harikeśa had received the call to come immediately to Vṛndāvana, he had been told to “expect the worst.” Immediately he contacted his printer, who was in the process of completing several books, and told him that he must have advance copies by the next day. So by the time he got on the plane for India, he had newly printed volumes of the Second Canto of Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam in German, the Kṛṣṇa trilogy in German, and a Yugoslavian Śrī Īśopaniṣad. But when he arrived at Śrīla Prabhupāda’s door in Vṛndāvana, a devotee told him he could not bring the books to Śrīla Prabhupāda now. “Why not?” Harikeśa asked.

“This is not the kind of mood we are trying to create here,” the devotee explained.

“What? Are you crazy?” exclaimed Harikeśa. “Books are Prabhupāda’s life and soul!” He went in and showed Prabhupāda the seven new books. Immediately Prabhupāda took the first volume of the Kṛṣṇa trilogy and held it up, looking at the cover painting of Rādhā and Kṛṣṇa. Prabhupāda began crying and reached out, trying to stroke Harikeśa’s head. Harikeśa reached out and held Śrīla Prabhupāda’s hand, thinking himself unworthy of being patted.

“He was rotting here, typewriting,” said Śrīla Prabhupāda, referring to when Harikeśa had been his secretary, just before going to preach in Europe. “I said, ‘You go.’ I had ten servants. You thought that I was degrading you by sending you away. No. Now you understand?”

“Yes, I understand,” said Harikeśa, sobbing.

“Here is an intelligent boy, I thought,” said Śrīla Prabhupāda. “Why should he rot here, typewriting?” Prabhupāda looked at each book. “Printing and everything is first class,” he said. He asked how many had been printed, and Harikeśa replied, “One hundred twenty thousand Kṛṣṇa trilogies, sixty thousand Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam Second Cantos, and ten thousand Īśopaniṣads.”

“Can you distribute that Īśopaniṣad?” Prabhupāda asked. Harikeśa assured him that they could definitely distribute the book in Yugoslavia.

“Then print more,” said Prabhupāda. They continued discussing book production. Books were indeed Śrīla Prabhupāda’s life and soul. From Harikeśa’s entering with the new books, Prabhupāda had felt a profound ecstasy that had spread to Harikeśa and all the devotees present. Everyone was keenly aware that what they were experiencing was transcendental, a special reciprocation with Śrīla Prabhupāda, and as long as they were sincere it would not die.

“Now you just have to become better,” said Harikeśa. “More healthy.”

“Healthy?” said Śrīla Prabhupāda. “I have nothing to do with this body.”

During one of the long kīrtana vigils, Brahmānanda Swami was present, and Śrīla Prabhupāda called him forward. He wanted to give him last instructions about Africa. Prabhupāda was lying down, and Brahmānanda had to put his ear near Śrīla Prabhupāda’s mouth to hear. The other devotees in the room also hushed and came as close as possible.

“With Nava-yogendra,” Prabhupāda said in a hoarse whisper, “the both of you. South Africa also. There gradually the people are taking. Try to bring Puṣṭa Kṛṣṇa back. He is very competent. So jointly organize Africa. Have saṅkīrtana. All Europeans, Americans, Africans. Tulasī dāsa is very competent also. United Nations under Caitanya Mahāprabhu’s flag. It is possible. Otherwise, that United Nations will be simply false attempt.”

“You said that when you first came to New York,” replied Brahmānanda, urgently recalling his first days with Śrīla Prabhupāda, “you went to the United Nations. The very first day I came to the kīrtana there in New York. The next day you went for that peace vigil outside the United Nations, and you were chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa and saying that this Kṛṣṇa consciousness is the only method for making United Nations.”

“That is a fact,” said Prabhupāda. “Try for the protection of Caitanya Mahāprabhu, and things will be successful. Others, they will simply waste time and be disappointed and change the body and suffer.” Prabhupāda changed the subject, but Brahmānanda was satisfied. He had been given enough service for many lifetimes.

Kulādri came into the room on behalf of Kīrtanānanda Swami, with gifts for Śrīla Prabhupāda: an $8,000 check, a sapphire ring, a gold medallion studded with sapphires and rubies.

“So, why don’t you find out some bride?” Śrīla Prabhupāda remarked, and the devotees’ sudden laughter broke the room’s solemn mood. Accepting the ring on his finger, Śrīla Prabhupāda said someone should take care of the other valuables.

Kulādri said he had also one request to make on behalf of Kīrtanānanda Swami: “Kīrtanānanda Mahārāja said that you have asked us to pray to Kṛṣṇa before. But he says he doesn’t feel qualified to pray to Kṛṣṇa. So he is asking that you please pray to Kṛṣṇa for us, because we cannot pray to Kṛṣṇa directly. We don’t know Kṛṣṇa. But if you ask, Kṛṣṇa must be sure to fulfill your desire. So would you please pray to Kṛṣṇa to stay with us? We want you to come to the palace that we’re building in New Vrindaban, Śrīla Prabhupāda, if it is possible.”

“I wish,” said Śrīla Prabhupāda. “But unless I become a little strong, how can I go?”

“We’ve also brought some sweets and ice cream,” said Kulādri. He knew that Prabhupāda could not take it, but he asked if he could just at least take a little taste. Prabhupāda agreed, and a small piece of the ice cream was put on his tongue. “First class,” he said.

Later Kīrtanānanda arrived, and Prabhupāda asked for a report on New Vrindaban.

“Everything is going very nicely, Prabhupāda,” said Kīrtanānanda. “Your palace is almost finished. Already many people are coming every day to see it. It will be finished in a couple of months. The other day a lady went in, and she turned to one of her boys and said, ‘I cannot tell you what I am feeling. It is so wonderful.’ ”

“Yes,” said Prabhupāda. “It is wonderful in that quarter.” He paused, reflecting. “Hmm … Let us see which palace I am going to.”

Śrīla Prabhupāda asked Kīrtanānanda to take back his valuable gifts and use them for New Vrindaban. “You require money,” said Prabhupāda, “so you take back and utilize it there. That is my request.”

“Thank you very much,” said Kīrtanānanda. “Most of all we want you, though.”

“Yes, I also,” said Śrīla Prabhupāda. “And if I survive, I have a strong desire to go where you are and live there. It will be a great pleasure.”

Kīrtanānanda had pictures of the palace, and Prabhupāda sat up to see them. “You are fulfilling my dream,” he said. “New Vrindaban. I dreamt all these things. Wonderful things he has done. He is the first student – from the very beginning. When I was in the storefront, he was bringing carpets, bench, some gong, some lamps.”

In Vṛndāvana, Girirāja had seen Prabhupāda a number of times, mostly on business. He also regularly took his turn in the kīrtana vigils in Prabhupāda’s room. But one day, wanting to take full advantage of Vṛndāvana, he went to visit some of the temples. At the end of the day he took rest for the night on the roof of the gurukula building. But in the middle of the night he was awakened by a devotee saying that Prabhupāda wanted to see him. He ran down immediately, aware that Prabhupāda might pass away at any moment. Anything Prabhupāda might say could be his last words. He came into Prabhupāda’s room, offered obeisances, and got up very close beside the bed.

“Do you think this movement can go on without me?” Prabhupāda asked. Girirāja was astounded that Prabhupāda had called him in the middle of the night to ask him this.

“I think,” said Girirāja, “that as long as we are sincere and go on chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa and follow the principles, the movement will be successful.”

Śrīla Prabhupāda was silent. When he spoke, each word seemed to come with great effort. He uttered the word organization. Then he said, “Organization and intelligence. Is there anything else?”

Girirāja felt within his heart that he wanted to cry out, “Śrīla Prabhupāda, stay with us.” But instead he said, “No.”

“All right,” Prabhupāda said. And Girirāja offered obeisances and left. Outside Prabhupāda’s room, Girirāja continued to reflect on Prabhupāda’s words – “organization and intelligence.” Prabhupāda seemed to be demanding much more love and commitment; not that ISKCON could survive on organization and intelligence alone. Girirāja was thinking that perhaps these might be the last words Prabhupāda would ever speak to him.

Paramānanda, the temple president of Prabhupāda’s Pennsylvania farm project, Gītā-nagarī, also came to be with Prabhupāda. “So organize this farm project,” said Śrīla Prabhupāda. “Simple living. Human life is meant for God realization. Try to help them.”

“We’re always feeling your presence very strongly, Śrīla Prabhupāda,” said Paramānanda. “Simply by your teachings and instructions. We are always meditating on your instructions.”

“Thank you,” said Śrīla Prabhupāda. “That is the real presence. Physical presence is not important.” Paramānanda had brought a letter from his wife, Satyabhāmā. Tamāla Kṛṣṇa asked if he should read it, and Prabhupāda agreed. Tamāla Kṛṣṇa read on.

Dear Srila Prabhupada,
Please accept my most humble obeisances. All glories to Your Divine Grace.

This shawl is made of the wool from our own sheep. It is spun and woven here at Gita-nagari. It is the first piece we have made. While I was working on it I would always think of you, how I was supposedly making you a gift. But actually you are giving me the gift of engagement in devotional service. Srila Prabhupada, I always pray to Lord Nrshimhadeva to protect you and allow you to stay with us to finish your books. But I think today the rain falling from the sky is actually the tears of the demigods, crying at the prospect of your departure. I am also crying. Even Krsna cried at the passing of Grandfather Bhisma. So I have a right to cry. I cannot be so philosophical to say that you are always present in your books and teachings, though I know these things are true. I will miss you so much, Srila Prabhupada, if you go. I beg that I may always remain your menial servant and devotee.

Your humble disciple,
Satyabhama dasi

“Thank her,” said Śrīla Prabhupāda, and he reached for the shawl. “Made with our wool.”

“So you’ll take rest now, Śrīla Prabhupāda?” suggested Tamāla Kṛṣṇa.

“Umhm,” said Prabhupāda. “This can be on the foot.” And he gestured that the saffron-colored shawl be put as a blanket on his bed. Tears came from his eyes as he lay back.

Śrīla Prabhupāda was becoming more and more in favor of departing from the world. When Tamāla Kṛṣṇa remarked that Prabhupāda was not drinking much, he replied that he had no inclination.

“I don’t know what to say, Śrīla Prabhupāda,” said Tamāla Kṛṣṇa. “It’s certainly bewildering. I can only expect somehow Kṛṣṇa will have to do something.” Tamāla Kṛṣṇa requested again that they bring a doctor. “Still some husband must be there, you said,” Tamāla Kṛṣṇa reminded. “We should have a doctor’s help. I still believe that. After all, we are not doctors.”

“No,” said Prabhupāda, “but we are already taking help of doctor, Āyur Veda – that is Yogendra-Ras.”

“You’re just beginning that now, of course,” said Tamāla Kṛṣṇa. “Tomorrow you might give it up. Then what will be our position?”

“Widow,” said Prabhupāda with a laugh. Then he added, “Actually, Kṛṣṇa is the ultimate husband.”

The devotees with Prabhupāda found it very difficult to adopt his mood of looking forward to his passing away. Once during a kīrtana, Upendra asked if Prabhupāda wanted something to drink. When Prabhupāda refused, some of the devotees began to cry, thinking that if Prabhupāda didn’t eat or even drink, he would not remain with them much longer. The devotees were trying to be submissively resigned to Prabhupāda’s will, and they accepted that his direction was more and more toward leaving. They were coming to accept it, surrounding him with kīrtana and not causing him any inconvenience with their problems or demands. Whatever he wanted, they should want. But the idea of his passing away was still almost unbearable.

In their resignation, the devotees became philosophical. Rūpānuga said Prabhupāda could be likened to an ambassador in a foreign country. He may have many affairs in the foreign country, but finally he’s called back. Jayādvaita said that Prabhupāda had taught his disciples everything and that now he was teaching them how to die. Another devotee said that Prabhupāda had better friends in the spiritual world. In their talks, the devotees stressed the importance of their cooperating with one another, and they discussed how ISKCON would continue in the future. But it was all depressing.

Nevertheless, they kept returning to the unpleasant but unavoidable realization that Prabhupāda would very soon leave them. With Prabhupāda so clearly indicating that he had decided to definitely leave, the devotees were becoming despondent. At best, a solemn mood prevailed.