CHAPTER FOUR

IN OCTOBER OF 1932, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī led a group of hundreds of disciples and pilgrims on a month-long parikrama, or circumambulation, of the sacred places of Vṛndāvana. Vṛndāvana residents and visitors perform parikrama by following the old, dry bed of the Yamunā River and circumambulating the Vṛndāvana area, stopping at the places where Kṛṣṇa performed His pastimes when He roamed in Vṛndāvana five thousand years ago. Abhay had wanted to attend Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī’s parikrama but couldn’t because of his work. Nevertheless, on the twentieth day of the pilgrimage he traveled from Allahabad, intent on seeing Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī again and hoping to join the parikrama party at Kosi, just outside Vṛndāvana, at least for a day.

The parikrama Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta had organized was one of the biggest ever seen in Vṛndāvana. By engaging so many people, he was using the parikrama as a method of mass preaching. Even as early as 1918, when he had first begun his missionary work, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta’s specific contribution had been his emphasis on preaching. Prior to his advent, the Vaiṣṇavas had generally avoided populated places, and they had performed their worship in holy, secluded places like Vṛndāvana. Even when they had traveled to preach, they would maintain the simple mode of the impoverished mendicant. The Gosvāmī followers during Lord Caitanya’s time had lived in Vṛndāvana underneath trees; one night under one tree, the next night under another.

Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī, whose aim was on preaching worldwide, knew that the renunciation of the Gosvāmīs was not possible for Westerners; therefore he wanted to introduce the idea that devotees could even live in a big palatial temple. He had accepted a large donation from a wealthy Vaiṣṇava merchant and in 1930 had constructed a large marble temple in the Baghbazar section of Calcutta. In the same year, he had moved, along with many followers, from his small rented quarters at Ultadanga to the impressive new headquarters.

Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta was demonstrating that although a devotee should not spend a cent for his own sense gratification, he could spend millions of rupees for the service of Kṛṣṇa. While previously Vaiṣṇavas would not have had anything to do with the mechanized contrivances introduced by the British, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta, on the authority of scripture, was demonstrating a higher understanding. It was Rūpa Gosvāmī, the great disciple of Lord Caitanya, who had written, “One is perfectly detached from all materialistic worldly entanglement not when one gives up everything but when one employs everything for the service of the Supreme Personality of Godhead, Kṛṣṇa. This is understood to be perfect renunciation in yoga.” If everything is God’s energy, then why should anything be given up? If God is good, then His energy is also good; material things should not be used for one’s own sense enjoyment, but they could be and should be used for the service of Kṛṣṇa. So Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta wanted to use the most modern printing presses. He wanted to invite worldly people to hear kṛṣṇa-kathā in gorgeously built temples. And, for their preaching, devotees should not hesitate to ride in the best conveyances, wear sewn cloth, or live amidst material opulence.

It was in this spirit that he had constructed the building at Baghbazar and there displayed a theistic exhibition, a series of dioramas assembled from finely finished, painted, and dressed clay dolls. Such dolls are a traditional art form in Bengal, but the staging of nearly one hundred elaborate displays depicting the Vaiṣṇava philosophy and the pastimes of Lord Kṛṣṇa had never before been seen. The theistic exhibition created a sensation, and thousands attended it daily.

In that same year, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī had taken about forty disciples on a parikrama all over India, a tour featuring many public lectures and Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta’s meetings with important men. By 1932 he had three presses in different parts of India printing six journals in various Indian dialects.

In Calcutta a politician had asked Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī how he could possibly print his Nadiyā Prakāśa as a daily newspaper. Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī had replied that it was not so amazing if one considered that in Calcutta alone there were almost half a dozen ordinary daily newspapers, although Calcutta was but one city amongst all the cities of India, India was but one nation amongst many nations on the earth, the earth was but an insignificant planet amidst all the other planets in the universe, this universe was one amongst universes so numerous that each was like a single mustard seed in a big bag of mustard seeds, and the entire material creation was only one small fraction of the creation of God. Nadiyā Prakāśa was not printing the news of Calcutta or the earth but news from the unlimited spiritual sky, which is much greater than all the material worlds combined. So if the daily Calcutta newspapers could report limited earthly tidings, then small wonder that Nadiyā Prakāśa could appear daily. In fact, a newspaper about the spiritual world could be printed every moment, were there not a shortage of interested readers.

One of Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta’s publications was in English, The Harmonist, and it advertised the Vṛndāvana parikrama of 1932.

When Abhay had heard from the members of the Allahabad Gaudiya Math about the parikrama, he had been fully occupied with his local Prayag Pharmacy business and traveling to secure new accounts. But he had calculated how he could join at least for a day or two, and he had fixed his mind on again obtaining the darśana of Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī.

Śrīla Prabhupāda: I was not initiated at the time of the parikrama, but I had very good admiration for these Gaudiya Math people. They were very kind to me, so I thought, “What are these people doing in this parikrama? Let me go.” So I met them at Kosi.

The parikrama party traveled with efficient organization. An advance group, bringing all the bedding and tents, would go ahead to the next day’s location, where they would make camp and set up the kitchen. Meanwhile, the main party, bearing the Deity of Lord Caitanya Mahāprabhu and accompanied by kīrtana singers, would visit the places of Lord Kṛṣṇa’s pastimes and in the evening arrive in camp.

The camp was divided into sections and arranged in a semicircle, and pilgrims were assigned to a particular section for the night. In the center were the quarters of Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta and the Deity of Lord Caitanya, and close by, the tents of the sannyāsīs. There were separate camps for ladies and men – married couples did not stay together. There was also a volunteer corps of guards who stayed up all night, patrolling the area. At night the camp, with its hundreds of tents with gaslights and campfires, resembled a small town, and local people would come to see, astonished at the arrangements. In the evening, everyone would gather to hear a discourse by Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī.

The pilgrims would rise early each morning and chant Hare Kṛṣṇa together. Then, carrying the Deity of Lord Caitanya, they would set out in procession – kīrtana groups, the police band, the lead horse, the flag bearers, and all the pilgrims. They traveled to the holy places: the birthplace of Lord Kṛṣṇa, the place where Lord Kṛṣṇa slew Kaṁsa, the Ādi-keśava temple, Rādhā-kuṇḍa, Śyāma-kuṇḍa, and many others.

Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī’s massive pilgrimage had been rolling on with great success when he met with serious opposition. The local temple proprietors in Vṛndāvana objected to Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta’s awarding the sacred brahminical thread to devotees not born in the families of brāhmaṇas. Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta, throughout his lectures and writings, had repeatedly proven from the Vedic scriptures that one is a brāhmaṇa not by birth but by qualities. He often cited a verse from Sanātana Gosvāmī’s Hari-bhakti-vilāsa stating that just as base metal when mixed with mercury can become gold, so an ordinary man can become a brāhmaṇa if initiated by a bona fide spiritual master. He also often cited a verse from Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam in which the great sage Nārada tells King Yudhiṣṭhira that if one is born in the family of a śūdra but acts as a brāhmaṇa he has to be accepted as a brāhmaṇa, and if one is born in the family of a brāhmaṇa but acts as a śūdra he is to be considered a śūdra. Because the prime method of spiritual advancement in the Age of Kali is the chanting of the holy name of God, any person who chants Hare Kṛṣṇa should be recognized as a saintly person.

When the local paṇḍitas approached Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī for discussion, they questioned his leniency in giving initiation and his awarding the brahminical thread and sannyāsa dress to persons of lower castes. Because of Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī’s scholarly, forceful presentation, the paṇḍitas seemed satisfied by the discussion, but when the parikrama party arrived at Vṛndāvana’s seven main temples, which had been erected by the immediate followers of Lord Caitanya, the party found the doors closed. Vṛndāvana shopkeepers closed their businesses, and some people even threw stones at the passing pilgrims. But the parikrama party, led by Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī, continued in good spirits, despite the animosity, and on October 28 the party arrived at Kosi, the site of the treasury of Kṛṣṇa’s father, King Nanda.

On the road there was lively horse-drawn ṭāṅgā traffic. The month of Kārttika, October-November, was one of the several times of the year that drew many pilgrims to Vṛndāvana. The one-horse ṭāṅgās carried large families, some coming from hundreds of miles away. Larger bands of pilgrims, grouped by village, walked together, the women dressed in bright-colored sārīs, brown-skinned men and women sometimes singing bhajanas, carrying but a few simple possessions as they headed for the town of thousands of temples, Vṛndāvana. And there were businessmen like Abhay, dressed more formally, coming from a city, maybe to spend the weekend. Most of them had at least some semblance of a religious motive – to see Kṛṣṇa in the temple, to bathe in the holy Yamunā River, to visit the sites where Lord Kṛṣṇa had performed His pastimes such as the lifting of Govardhana Hill, the killing of the Keśī demon, or the dancing in the evening with the gopīs.

Abhay was sensitive to the atmosphere of Vṛndāvana, and he noted the activity along the road. But more than that, he cherished with anticipation the fulfillment of his journey – his meeting again, after a long separation, the saintly person he had always thought of within himself, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī, who had spoken to him in Calcutta and had convinced him of Lord Caitanya’s mission to preach Kṛṣṇa consciousness. Abhay would soon see him again, and this purpose filled his mind.

Upon reaching the lantern-illuminated camp of the Gaudiya Math and inquiring at the registration post, he was allowed to join the parikrama village. He was assigned to a tent of gṛhastha men and was offered prasādam. The people were friendly and in good spirits, and Abhay talked of his activities with the maṭha members in Calcutta and Allahabad. Then there was a gathering – a sannyāsī was making an announcement. This evening, he said, there would be a scheduled visit to a nearby temple to see the Deity of Śeṣaśāyī Viṣṇu. Some of the pilgrims cheered, “Haribol! Hare Kṛṣṇa!” The sannyāsī also announced that His Divine Grace Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī Ṭhākura would speak that evening for the last time and would be leaving the parikrama party the next day. So there was a choice of going on the parikrama or staying for the lecture.

Śrīla Prabhupāda: So I met them in Kosi, and Keśava Mahārāja was informing that Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta is going to Mathurā tomorrow morning and he will speak hari-kathā this evening. Anyone who wants to may remain. Or otherwise they may go to see Śeṣaśāyī Viṣṇu. So at that time I think only ten or twelve men remained – Śrīdhara Mahārāja was one of them. And I thought it wise, “What can I see at this Śeṣaśāyī? Let me hear what Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī will speak. Let me hear.”

When Abhay arrived, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta was already speaking. He sat with his back erect, a shawl around his shoulders, not speaking like a professional lecturer giving a scheduled performance, but addressing a small gathering in his room. At last Abhay was in his presence again. Abhay marveled to see and hear him, this unique soul possessed of kṛṣṇa-kathā, speaking uninterruptedly about Kṛṣṇa in his deep, low voice, in ecstasy and deep knowledge. Abhay sat and heard with rapt attention.

Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī had been speaking regularly about sambandha, abhidheya, and prayojana. Sambandha is the stage of devotional service in which awareness of God is awakened, abhidheya is rendering loving service to the Lord, and prayojana is the ultimate goal, pure love of God. He stressed that his explanations were in exact recapitulation of what had originally been spoken by Kṛṣṇa and passed down through disciplic succession. Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī’s particular utterance, mostly Bengali but sometimes English, with frequent quoting of Sanskrit from the śāstras, was deep with erudition. “It is Kṛṣṇa,” said Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī, “who is the only Superlord over the entire universe and, beyond it, of Vaikuṇṭha, the transcendental region. As such, no one can raise any obstacle against His enjoyment.”

An hour went by, two hours … . The already small gathering in Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta’s room gradually thinned. A few sannyāsīs left, excusing themselves to tend to duties connected with the parikrama camp. Only a few intimate leaders remained. Abhay was the only outsider. Of course, he was a devotee, not an outsider, but in the sense that he was not a sannyāsī, was not handling any duties, was not even initiated, and was not traveling with the parikrama but had joined only for a day – in that sense he was an outsider. The philosophy Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī was speaking, however, was democratically open to whoever would give an ardent hearing. And that Abhay was doing.

He was listening with wonder. Sometimes he would not even understand something, but he would go on listening intently, submissively, his intelligence drinking in the words. He felt Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī revealing to him the direct vision of the spiritual world, just as a person reveals something by opening a door or pushing aside a curtain. He was revealing the reality, and this reality was loving service to the lotus feet of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa, the supremely worshipable Personality of Godhead. How masterfully he spoke! And with utter conviction and boldness!

It was with such awe that Abhay listened with fastened attention. Of course, all Vaiṣṇavas accepted Kṛṣṇa as their worshipable Lord, but how conclusively and with what sound logic was the faith of the Vaiṣṇavas established by this great teacher! After several hours, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī stopped speaking. Abhay felt prepared to go on listening without cessation, and yet he had no puzzling doubts or queries to place forward. He wanted only to hear more. As Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta made his exit, Abhay bowed, offering his obeisances, and then left the intimate circle of sannyāsīs in their row of tents and went to the outer circle of tents, his mind surcharged with the words of his spiritual master.

Now their relationship seemed more tangible. He still treasured his original impression of Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī, the saintly person who had spoken to him on the rooftop in Calcutta; but tonight that single impression that had sustained him for years in Allahabad had been enriched and filled with new life. His spiritual master and the impression of his words were as much a reality as the stars in the sky and the moon over Vṛndāvana. That impression of hearing from Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī was filling him with its reality, and all other reality was forming itself around the absolute reality of Śrīla Gurudeva, just as all the planets circle around the sun.

The next morning, Abhay was up with the others more than an hour before dawn, bathed, and chanting mantras in congregation. Later in the morning the tall, stately figure of Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī, dressed in plain saffron, got into the back seat of a car and rode away from the camp. Thoughtful and grave, he looked back and waved, accepting the loving farewell gestures of his followers. Abhay stood amongst them.

A little more than a month later, Abhay was again anticipating an imminent meeting with Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta, this time at Allahabad. Abhay had only recently returned from Vṛndāvana to his work at Prayag Pharmacy when the devotees at the Allahabad Gaudiya Math informed him of the good news. They had secured land and funds for constructing a building, the Śrī Rūpa Gaudiya Math, and Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta would be coming on November 21 to preside over the ceremony for the laying of the cornerstone. Sir William Malcolm Haily, governor of the United Provinces, would be the respected guest and, in a grand ceremony, would lay the foundation stone in the presence of Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta. When Abhay learned that there would also be an initiation ceremony, he asked if he could be initiated. Atulānanda, the maṭha’s president, assured Abhay that he would introduce him to Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī.

At home, Abhay discussed his initiation plans with his wife. She had no objection, but she did not want to take initiation herself. They were already worshiping the Deity at home and offering their food to the Deity. They believed in God and were living peacefully.

But for Abhay that was not enough. Although he would not force his wife, he knew that he must be initiated by a pure devotee. Avoiding sinful life, living piously – these things were necessary and good, but in themselves they did not constitute spiritual life and could not satisfy the yearning of the soul. Life’s ultimate goal and the absolute necessity of the self was love of Kṛṣṇa. That love of Kṛṣṇa his father had already inculcated within him, and now he had to take the next step. His father would have been pleased to see him do it.

What he had learned from his father was now being solidified by someone capable of guiding all the fallen souls of the world to transcendental love of God. Abhay knew he should go forward and take complete shelter in the instructions of his spiritual master. And the scriptures enjoined, “He who is desirous of knowing the Absolute Truth must take shelter of a spiritual master who is in disciplic succession and who is fixed in Kṛṣṇa consciousness.” Even Lord Caitanya, who was Kṛṣṇa Himself, had accepted a spiritual master, and only after initiation did He manifest the full symptoms of ecstatic love of Kṛṣṇa while chanting the holy name.

As for the ritual initiation he had received at age twelve from a family priest, Abhay had never taken it very seriously. It had been a religious formality. But a guru was not a mere officiating ritualistic priest; so Abhay had rejected the idea that he already had a guru. He had never received instructions from him in bhakti, and his family guru had not linked him, through disciplic succession, with Kṛṣṇa. But by taking initiation from Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī he would be linked with Kṛṣṇa. Bhaktisiddhānta, son of Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura and disciple of Gaurakiśora dāsa Bābājī, was the guru in the twelfth disciplic generation from Lord Caitanya. He was the foremost Vedic scholar of the age, the expert Vaiṣṇava who could guide one back to Godhead. He was empowered by his predecessors to work for the highest welfare by giving everyone Kṛṣṇa consciousness, the remedy for all sufferings. Abhay felt that he had already accepted Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta as his spiritual master and that from their very first meeting he had already received his orders. Now if Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta would accept him as his disciple, the relationship would be confirmed.

He was coming so soon after Abhay had seen and heard him in Vṛndāvana! That was how Kṛṣṇa acted, through His representative. It was as if his spiritual master, in coming to where Abhay had his family and business, was coming to draw him further into spiritual life. Without Abhay’s having attempted to bring it about, his relationship with Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta was deepening. Now Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta was coming to him, as if by a higher arrangement.

As the moment and the words became impressed into his being, Abhay was in ecstasy. Atulānanda was pleasantly surprised that his Gurudeva was already in approval of Mr. De. Other disciples in the room were also pleased to witness Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī’s immediate acceptance of Mr. De as a good listener. Some of them wondered when or where Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta had arrived at such an estimation of the young pharmacist.

At the initiation, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī was seated on a vyāsāsana, and the room was filled with guests and members of the Gaudiya Math. Those to be initiated sat around a small mound of earth, where one of Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī’s sannyāsīs prepared a fire and offered grains and fruits into the flames, while everyone chanted mantras for purification. Abhay’s sister and brother were present, but not his wife.

Abhay basked in the presence of his Gurudeva. “Yes, he likes to hear” – the words of his spiritual master and his glance of recognition had remained with Abhay. Abhay would continue pleasing his spiritual master by hearing well. “Then,” he thought, “I will be able to speak well.” The Vedic literature described nine processes of devotional service, the first of which was śravaṇam, hearing about Kṛṣṇa; then came kīrtanam, chanting about and glorifying Him. By sitting patiently and hearing at Kosi, he had pleased Kṛṣṇa’s representative, and when Kṛṣṇa’s representative was pleased, Kṛṣṇa was pleased. Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī had not praised him for donating money to the maṭha and hadn’t advised him to forsake his family and business and travel with him, nor had he asked Abhay to perform great austerities, like the yogīs who mortify their bodies with fasts and difficult vows. But “He likes to hear,” he had said. “I have marked him.” Abhay thought about it and, again, listened carefully as his spiritual master conducted the initiation.

Finally, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta called for Abhay to come forward and receive the hari-nāma initiation by accepting his beads. After offering prostrated obeisances, Abhay extended his right hand and accepted the strand of japa beads from the hand of his spiritual master. At the same time, he also received the sacred brahminical thread, signifying second initiation. Usually, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta gave the first initiation, harināma, and only after some time, when he was satisfied with the progress of the disciple, would he give the second initiation. But he offered Abhay both initiations at the same time. Now Abhay was a full-fledged disciple, a brāhmaṇa, who could perform sacrifices, such as this fire yajña for initiation; he could worship the Deity in the temple and would be expected to discourse widely. Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta added aravinda, “lotus,” to his name; now he was Abhay Charanaravinda.

After Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī left Allahabad for Calcutta, Abhay keenly felt the responsibility of working on behalf of his spiritual master. At the initiation Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta had instructed Abhay to study Rūpa Gosvāmī’s Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu, which outlined the loving exchanges between Kṛṣṇa and His devotees and explained how a devotee can advance in spiritual life. Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu was a “lawbook” for devotional service, and Abhay would study it carefully. He was glad to increase his visits to the Allahabad center and to bring new people. Even at his first meeting with his spiritual master he had received the instruction to preach the mission of Lord Caitanya, and now he began steadily and carefully considering how to do so. Preaching was a responsibility at least as binding as that of home and business. Even in his home he wanted to engage as far as possible in preaching. He discussed with his wife about his plans for inviting people into their home, offering them prasādam, and holding discussions about Kṛṣṇa. She didn’t share his enthusiasm.

Śrīla Prabhupāda: My wife was a devotee of Kṛṣṇa, but she had some other idea. Her idea was just to worship the Deity at home and live peacefully. My idea was preaching.

It was not possible for Abhay to travel with his spiritual master or even to see him often. His pharmaceutical business kept him busy, and he traveled frequently. Whenever possible, however, he tried to time a business trip to Calcutta when his spiritual master was also there. Thus over the next four years he managed to see his spiritual master perhaps a dozen times.

Whenever Abhay visited Calcutta, the assistant librarian at the Gaudiya Math, Nityānanda Brahmacārī, would meet him at Howrah train station with a two-horse carriage belonging to the maṭha. Nityānanda saw Abhay as an unusually humble and tolerant person. As they rode together to the maṭha, Abhay would inquire eagerly into the latest activities of Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta: his traveling, his publishing, how many centers were currently open, how his disciples were doing. They wouldn’t talk much about Abhay’s business. Abhay would stay at the Gaudiya Math, usually for about five days. Sometimes he would visit one of his sisters who lived in Calcutta, but his main reason for coming was Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta; and Abhay would take advantage of every opportunity to hear him.

Abhay didn’t try to become a leader in the inner management of the Gaudiya Math. His spiritual master had initiated eighteen sannyāsīs, who carried out most of the preaching and leadership of the mission. Abhay was always the householder, occupied with his own business and family, never living within the maṭha except for brief visits. And yet he began to develop a close relationship with his spiritual master.

Sometimes Abhay would go to see him at the Chaitanya Math, at the birthplace of Lord Caitanya in Māyāpur. One day at the Chaitanya Math, Abhay was in the courtyard when a large poisonous snake crawled out in front of him. Abhay called out for his Godbrothers, but when they came everyone simply stood looking, uncertain what to do. Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta came out on the veranda of the second floor, glanced down, saw the snake, and immediately ordered, “Kill it.” A boy then took a large stick and killed the snake.

Śrīla Prabhupāda: So I thought, “How is it that Guru Mahārāja ordered the snake to be killed?” I was a little surprised, but later on I saw this verse, and then I was very glad: modeta sādhur api vṛścika-sarpa-hatyā, “Even saintly persons take pleasure in the killing of a scorpion or a snake.” It had remained a doubt, how Guru Mahārāja ordered the snake to be killed, but when I read this verse I was very much pleased that this creature or creatures like the snake should not be shown any mercy.

Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta was reputed to be so austere and so strong in argument against other philosophies that even his own disciples were cautious in approaching him if he were sitting alone or if they had no specific business with him. Yet even though Abhay’s contact with him was quite limited, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta would always treat him kindly.

Śrīla Prabhupāda: Whenever I met my Guru Mahārāja, he would always treat me very affectionately. Sometimes my Godbrothers would criticize because I would talk a little freely with him, and they would quote this English saying, “Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.” But I would think, “Fool? Well, maybe, but that is the way I am.” My Guru Mahārāja was always very, very affectionate to me. When I offered obeisances, he used to return, “Dāso ’smi”: “I am your servant.”

Sometimes as Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta paced back and forth chanting the Hare Kṛṣṇa mantra aloud while fingering his beads, Abhay would enter the room and also chant, walking alongside his spiritual master. Once when Abhay entered Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta’s room, his spiritual master was sitting on a couch, and Abhay took his seat beside him on an equal level. But then he noticed that all the other disciples in the room were sitting on a lower level, at their spiritual master’s feet. Abhay kept his seat, and Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī said nothing of it, but Abhay never again sat on an equal level with his spiritual master.

Once in a room with many disciples, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī was speaking and Abhay listening when an old man beside Abhay motioned to him. As Abhay leaned over to hear what the man wanted, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta suddenly spoke out in annoyance at the two apparently inattentive students. “Bābū,” he first addressed the old man beside Abhay, “do you think you have purchased me with your 150-rupees-per-month donation?” And then, turning to Abhay: “Why don’t you come up here and speak instead of me?” Abhay was outwardly mortified, yet he treasured the rebuke.

It was in a private meeting that Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta once told Abhay of the risks he took by preaching so boldly.

Śrīla Prabhupāda: My Guru Mahārāja’s contribution is that he defeated the caste gosvāmīs. He defeated this Brahmanism. He did it the same way as Caitanya Mahāprabhu did. As Caitanya Mahāprabhu said, kibā vipra, kibā nyāsī, śūdra kene naya/ yei kṛṣṇa-tattva-vettā, sei ‘guru’ haya: “There is no consideration whether one is a sannyāsī, a brāhmaṇa, a śūdra, or a gṛhastha. No. Anyone who knows the science of Kṛṣṇa, he is all right, he is gosvāmī, and he is brāhmaṇa.”

But no one else taught that since Lord Caitanya. This was my Guru Mahārāja’s contribution. And for this reason, he had to face so many vehement protests from these brāhmaṇa-caste gosvāmīs.

Once they conspired to kill him – my Guru Mahārāja told me personally. By his grace, when we used to meet alone he used to talk about so many things. He was so kind that he used to talk with me, and he personally told me that these people, “They wanted to kill me.”

They collected twenty-five thousand rupees and went to bribe the police officer in charge of the area, saying, “You take these twenty-five thousand rupees. We shall do something against Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī, and you don’t take any steps.” He could understand that they wanted to kill him. So the police officer frankly came to Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī: “Of course, we accept bribes, and we indulge in such things, but not for a sādhu, not for a saintly person. I cannot dare.” So, the police officer refused and said to my Guru Mahārāja, “You take care. This is the position.” So vehemently they protested!

But he liked boldness in his disciples. Abhay heard of an occasion when one of Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī’s disciples had been very outspoken at a public meeting and had denounced a highly regarded Māyāvādī monk as “a foolish priest.” The remark had caused a disruption at the meeting, and some of the disciples reported the incident to Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta, thinking he would be displeased that his disciple had caused a disturbance. But Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta was pleased and remarked, “He has done well.” His displeasure occurred, rather, when he heard of someone’s compromise.

Śrīla Prabhupāda: When my Guru Mahārāja was present, even big, big scholars were afraid to talk with even his beginning students. My Guru Mahārāja was called “living encyclopedia.” He could talk with anyone on any subject, he was so learned. And no compromise. So-called saints, avatāras, yogīs – everyone who was false was an enemy to my Guru Mahārāja. He never compromised. Some Godbrothers complained that this preaching was a “chopping technique” and it would not be successful. But those who criticized him fell down.

Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta was known as the siṁha (“lion”) guru. On occasion, when he saw someone he knew to be a proponent of impersonalism, he would call that person over and challenge: “Why are you cheating the people with Māyāvādī philosophy?” He would often tell his disciples not to compromise. “Why should you go flatter?” he would say. “You should speak the plain truth, without any flattery. Money will come anyway.”

Whenever Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta wrote or spoke the Vaiṣṇava philosophy, he was uncompromising; the conclusion was according to the śāstra, and the logic strong. But sometimes Abhay would hear his spiritual master express the eternal teachings in a unique way that Abhay knew he would never forget. “Don’t try to see God,” Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta would say, “but act in such a way that God sees you.”

Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta condemned temple proprietors who made a business of showing the Deity for a living. To be a sweeper in the street was more honorable, he said. He coined a Bengali phrase, śālagrām-dvārā bādāṁ bhaṅga: “The priests are taking the śālagrāma Deity as a stone for cracking nuts.” In other words, if a person shows the śālagrāma form of the Lord (or any form of the Deity) simply with a view to make money, then he is seeing the Deity not as the Lord but as a stone, a means for earning his livelihood.

Abhay had the opportunity to see his spiritual master deal with the nationalist Subhas Chandra Bose, who had been Abhay’s schoolmate at Scottish Churches’ College. Bose had come in a somewhat critical mood, concerned about Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta’s recruiting young men into religious life.

Śrīla Prabhupāda: Subhas Chandra Bose came to my Guru Mahārāja and said, “So many people you have captured. They are doing nothing for nationalism.”

My Guru Mahārāja replied, “Well, for your national propaganda you require very strong men, but these people are very weak. You can see, they are very skinny. So don’t put your glance upon them. Let them eat something and chant Hare Kṛṣṇa.” In this way he avoided him.

Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta used to say that when the day came when high court judges were devotees of Kṛṣṇa with Vaiṣṇava tilaka on their foreheads, then he would know that the mission of spreading Kṛṣṇa consciousness was becoming successful.

He said that Jesus Christ was a śaktyāveśa-avatāra, an empowered incarnation of God. “How can it be otherwise?” he said. “He sacrificed everything for God.”

In his scholarly language he declared, “The materialistic demeanor cannot possibly stretch to the transcendental autocrat.” But sometimes in speech he phrased it in a more down-to-earth way: “The mundane scholars who are trying to understand the Supreme Lord by their senses and mental speculation are like a person trying to taste the honey in a bottle by licking the outside of the bottle.” Philosophy without religion, he said, is dry speculation; and religion without philosophy is sentiment and sometimes fanaticism.

Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta said that the whole world was simply a society of cheaters and cheated. He gave the example that loose women often visit certain holy places in India with the idea of seducing the sādhus, thinking that to have a child by a sādhu is prestigious. And immoral men dress themselves as sādhus, hoping to be seduced by the cheating women. His conclusion: a person should aspire to leave the material world and go back to Godhead, because “this material world is not a fit place for a gentleman.”

Abhay saw that when disciples asked his spiritual master about something in the future, he never replied, “Yes, it is going to happen,” or “Yes, we are going to do it.” Rather, he would say, “Yes, if Kṛṣṇa desires, it may be.” Although in his younger years he had been an astrologer and able to predict the future, he had given it up.

Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta was a lifetime brahmacārī and was very strict about avoiding association with women. Once Abhay was sitting with his spiritual master when another disciple was present, along with his young wife. The wife asked Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta if she might speak with him privately, but he replied, “No, whatever it is, you can ask here. I cannot see you in private.” Abhay was impressed by this, since Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta was in his sixties and the girl could have been his granddaughter; regardless, he would not speak with any woman alone.

Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta liked to make his disciples into sannyāsīs. But one day one of his sannyāsa disciples was forcibly dragged away by his wife. In tears, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta lamented that he was unable to save that soul. Yet he did not speak disparagingly of Kṛṣṇa conscious family life: “I would have sex hundreds of times if I thought that I could raise Kṛṣṇa conscious children.”

He would send his brahmacārīs out to sell the Gaudiya Math magazine and books, and even if a brahmacārī were able to sell only one or two, it would please him very much, and he would exclaim, “You are so nice.” In considering whether essays were worthy for publication, he would count how many times the word Kṛṣṇa or Caitanya had been used; if these holy names had been quoted sufficiently, he would say, “That’s all right. This can be used.”

He would say in Bengali, “Prāṇ āche yār, se hetu pracār:” “A person must have life to be a preacher – a dead man cannot preach.” When some of his preachers who had gone to chant and speak reported that no one had attended their meeting, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta replied, “That doesn’t matter. The four walls will hear you. That is sufficient. Don’t be disappointed. Go on chanting.” And in commenting on the fact that some of his disciples had fallen away: “Some of the soldiers will die,” he said.

But he did not want his disciples to lead an easygoing life – he once criticized a disciple as being “ease-loving” – nor should they attempt to practice austerities in seclusion. He would sing a song of his own composition, Duṣṭa mana, tumi kisera vaiṣṇava? “My dear mind, what kind of Vaiṣṇava are you? You are chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa in a solitary place, imitating the great saints Haridāsa Ṭhākura and Rūpa Gosvāmī, but your meditation is actually to think of women and money. Your mind is filled with such dirty things, so your bhajana is simply cheating.” He taught that if a devotee gave up his preaching in the city in favor of solitary meditation, that was a method of cheating by imitating the great saints in hopes of getting cheap adoration from others. Therefore, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta never liked to open a branch of the Gaudiya Math in a place that was not very much populated.

Abhay went on listening to his spiritual master at every opportunity, but rarely did Abhay put a philosophical inquiry before him. He preferred simply to listen.

Śrīla Prabhupāda: I never asked my spiritual master a question, except one: “How shall I serve you?”

Abhay Charan De became prominent in the pharmaceutical business. He worked well for Bose’s Laboratory, and other companies wanted him as their agent. He had hopes of becoming rich.

Śrīla Prabhupāda: My Guru Mahārāja ordered me, “You do this.” But I thought, “Let me first of all become a rich man. Then I shall do.” In the beginning, I was thinking, “Now my Godbrothers have taken sannyāsa. They are begging from door to door. Why shall I beg? Let me earn money and start Kṛṣṇa consciousness.”

The biggest pharmaceutical company in India, Bengal Chemical, made him an offer, but when they did not fulfill all his conditions he turned them down – though later he regretted it. Still, there were good signs. The astrologer had predicted he could become one of India’s richest men, and Dr. Kartick Bose had told his father-in-law, “He’s a very intelligent man!”

But there were also other signs. As many accounts as he had secured by his wide travels, there were also that many bills to collect. Many of the accounts began to fall behind in their payments, and the accumulated debt began to grow, until he owed Bose’s Laboratory a total of ten thousand rupees. And Abhay had enemies. The manager who had taken over Abhay’s old position as office manager with Bose’s Laboratory in Calcutta tried to turn Dr. Bose against Abhay, insinuating that he was too independent – they had heard of his negotiating with Bengal Chemical, and the new manager attributed the accumulating debt to Abhay’s lack of loyalty to the home office. Kartick Bose remained favorably inclined towards Abhay, but when the debt became a financial strain he went to Allahabad to investigate. At Prayag Pharmacy he spoke with Dr. Ghosh, who told him, “He is a very honest man. It is no fault of his. In good faith he gave all these chemists drugs and credit. But he can’t realize the money.”

“All right,” Dr. Bose said, “but I can’t go on giving him money.” Abhay went over the accounts with Dr. Kartick Bose, and they both agreed that the best way to settle the matter was for Dr. Bose to take over the Prayag Pharmacy and all of Abhay’s accounts. Thus Abhay was absolved of debt but unemployed.

Atulānanda Brahmacārī approached him: “Why don’t you come to the maṭha? Now you are free.” Abhay began to visit more frequently the nearby Rupa Goswami Math, where the Gaudiya Math men, in their renounced brahmacārī spirit, suggested that he depend completely on Kṛṣṇa, give up the world, move in with them, and become a full-time preacher. But for Abhay there was no question of abandoning business. If he did, what would happen to his wife and children? He and Radharani now had a third child, a son, so the financial responsibility was increasing. The brahmacārīs were well intentioned in asking him to renounce the world, and it was fine for them to do so, but Abhay couldn’t take it very seriously.

Without work he was in a critical situation; but he remained confident and eager to take on new employment. There were other companies that would like to have him as their agent. And some of his old customers wanted him to service them, even if he weren’t Bose’s man. Abhay thought about starting his own pharmaceutical laboratory. Finally he decided he would start his own factory, but in a much bigger city than Allahabad. He settled on Bombay.

He decided that his family should remain in Allahabad and he and his brother would travel to Bombay, take an apartment, and survey the prospects for starting a factory there. Although Radharani was used to her husband’s traveling, it had never been as extended as this promised to be. Abhay talked with her, explaining that his recent business loss had been the arrangement of Kṛṣṇa. Now, again to provide for his family, he would have to start a large business, and that could best be done in a major city like Bombay. But family life in Allahabad would be temporarily disrupted. He set up a very small pharmaceutical manufacturing operation there in Allahabad, put his nephew Tulasi in charge, and left for Bombay with his brother.

In Bombay, Abhay rented an apartment on Grant Road and, applying the knowledge he had gained as manager of Bose’s Laboratory, started his own pharmaceutical factory. Business was going well, when a large company, Smith Institute, wanted him as their sales agent. Abhay took the job, thinking that he could earn money as Smith’s representative while at the same time developing his own business. He was confident of his ability to earn money in the pharmaceutical line.

While traveling around Bombay on business, Abhay met some members of the Gaudiya Math – Bhaktirakṣaka Śrīdhara Mahārāja and Bhaktisāraṅga Gosvāmī, senior sannyāsī disciples of Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī. Abhay recognized them as respected Godbrothers, well versed in the scriptures and Vaiṣṇava philosophy. It seemed he was destined to find his Godbrothers wherever he went. Both he and the sannyāsīs regarded their apparently odd meeting in the city as auspicious. Like the members of the Gaudiya Math he had met in Allahabad, these preachers had no permanent center, but they were trying to start one. On behalf of Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī, they were going door to door soliciting supporters for a Bombay branch of the Gaudiya Math.

Abhay wanted to help. As a fellow Godbrother in the service of his spiritual master, he offered them his services. Although as sannyāsīs they were in a superior position, in their somewhat helpless condition they looked up to Abhay for help. They had been staying in a small place on Proctor Road and had found little opportunity to make important contacts. Now they formed a team, Abhay introducing the sannyāsīs to business acquaintances and the sannyāsīs taking donations for the new center. Abhay Charanaravinda was good at collecting funds, and he willingly gave his time. Again, his Godbrothers began pulling at him to participate fully in the Gaudiya Math preaching.

Śrīla Prabhupāda: We made a party for collecting alms – Śrīdhara Mahārāja, Gosvāmī Mahārāja, and myself. I took them to some of my chemist and doctor friends, and in two days we collected five hundred rupees. Śrīdhara Mahārāja would speak, I would introduce, and Gosvāmī Mahārāja would canvass. So Gosvāmī Mahārāja very much appreciated, and he began to speak highly about me: “For a bābū, he is so expert. He has got so many friends, and he has collected so much. Why should he not be in charge of our maṭha? Why shouldn’t he live with us? Why is he living separately?”

Abhay visited the maṭha quarters on Proctor Road, where he joined the devotees in kīrtana and heard them speak from the Bhāgavatam. At the sannyāsīs’ request, Abhay took on the responsibility of finding a more suitable place for the Bombay center. Wherever he went in the city, he looked for likely locations. Just as he had responsibilities for his wife and family in Allahabad, by dint of his initiation he was responsibly bound to assist his Godbrothers. He had to take part in the preaching, not simply struggle so that he might exist in the world of business competition. But he didn’t think he could ever live like the sannyāsīs – no possessions, no business, sleeping on the bare floor, taking only simple meals.

Abhay also composed a speech, which he read before the assembled guests and members of the Gaudiya Math. Although his first language was Bengali, his English was clear and natural.

Like the poem, the speech was personal, but even more than the poem it was authoritative, philosophical preaching. The Godbrothers were impressed to hear Abhay presenting the Vaiṣṇava philosophy so expertly. How was it possible? Of course, it should not have come as a surprise; he had heard the Vaiṣṇava philosophy from Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī, just like his Godbrothers. Why should he not be able to enunciate the teachings of his spiritual master, having heard from him and having read Gītā and Bhāgavatam and Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu? Was he not a devotee in the paramparā? But until now, no one knew he could preach in English so expertly.

The guru of whom Abhay spoke, of course, was Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī, the representative of the original compiler of the scriptures, Vyāsadeva. Abhay explained how Lord Kṛṣṇa had delivered transcendental knowledge to Brahmā, the creator of this particular universe. From Brahmā the knowledge had descended to Nārada, from Nārada to Vyāsa, from Vyāsa to Madhva … . Because Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta was presenting the Vedic knowledge as is, without any interpretation – in paramparā – he was the bona fide ācārya who could enlighten others with the revealed knowledge of the Vedas.

Abhay continued:

This transcendental knowledge, Abhay explained, had been known in India for thousands of years, and this knowledge – although presently obscured – was India’s real gift to the world.

The speech continued, describing the horrible consequences of a misspent human life, the sufferings of repeated birth and death. Again and again, Abhay stressed the need to surrender to the spiritual master. He criticized empirical, mundane philosophers, godless politicians, and blind sense gratifiers. He repeatedly pointed to the soul’s natural and sublime position as the servant of God and as the servant of the pure devotee of God. Abhay, an initiated disciple of his spiritual master for a little more than two years, referring to himself as a student, continued:

He then ended his speech with an eloquent prayer of submission.

He submitted both the poem and speech to The Harmonist. The poem, Abhay’s first publication, announced him as a competent writer in English, and Swami Bhaktipradīpa Tīrtha, editor of The Harmonist, informally dubbed Abhay as kavi, “learned poet.” Some of Abhay’s Godbrothers also picked up on the name and began calling him kavi. Most of them, even the sannyāsīs, were not so proficient in English. But Abhay was not ordinary. They could appreciate that the poem was personal, written out of Abhay’s genuine worship and his joy at having accepted a genuine spiritual master, but it was also written strictly in accord with the conclusions of the scriptures.

For Abhay, however, the glory of his “Sree Vyas Puja Homage” came when the poem reached Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī and it gave him pleasure. One stanza specifically made Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta so happy that he made a point of showing it to all of his guests.

Somehow, in this simple couplet Abhay had captured the essence of his spiritual master’s preaching against the Māyāvādīs, and Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta took it as an indication of how well Abhay knew the mind of his Gurudeva. Abhay was delighted when he heard that the couplet was pleasing to his spiritual master. One of Abhay’s Godbrothers compared this verse by Abhay to a verse in which Rūpa Gosvāmī had expressed the inner thinking of Caitanya Mahāprabhu and had thus moved Him to ecstasy.

Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī also found the essay pleasing, and he showed it to some of his confidential devotees. He instructed the editor of The Harmonist, “Whatever he writes, publish it.”

Abhay thought it only natural that he should have many business enemies or competitors – it was a sign of success. But his Bombay competition caused him to lose another good chance to become wealthy. The “enemy” was the son of Abhay’s supervisor at Smith Institute. Both son and father complained to the Smith Institute executives that Abhay Charan De was pushing goods from his own laboratory and not Smith’s. By this intrigue, Abhay lost his position with Smith Institute, and his supervisor placed his own son as the new agent. Abhay was again on his own.

While continuing to help his sannyāsī Godbrothers in Bombay, he found a two-story building for rent at Gawlia Tank Road. Everyone agreed it would make a suitable center, and Abhay arranged for the rental and for initial repairs and helped the sannyāsīs move in. It seemed that his endeavors for spiritual things were always successful, whereas his business efforts were consistently failing. Of course, a few business enemies were no cause for discouragement – intrigues and losses were always part of the game, and he was still well known in the pharmaceutical business throughout India. But it wasn’t so much the give and take of business that disturbed him as his own doubts about whether this was the best way for him to serve his spiritual master. Business was good only if it could go side by side with his spiritual life. Lord Caitanya had said that the chanting of Hare Kṛṣṇa should be spread to every town and village, and Abhay wanted to assist his spiritual master in fulfilling that prophecy, especially by contributing money and helping establish centers. His earnings should not go solely for his family.

Ideally, family life and spiritual life should progress side by side. But the difficulty was Abhay’s wife. She was disturbed over the business losses and apathetic to the spiritual successes. She wanted to stay within the orbit of home and family, and despite Abhay’s suggestions she refused to accept initiation from Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta. It was his own wife who was his most formidable competitor. And she waged her opposition right in the home, where it was least welcome.

When Abhay occasionally visited his family in Allahabad, he tried to satisfy them with his good intentions. Business had not gone so well in Bombay, but he had new plans, and he assured his family that there was no need to worry. He planned to do more preaching in his home – the whole family could become more involved in spiritual activities. He wanted to invite guests, hold discussions on Bhagavad-gītā and Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, perform kīrtana, distribute prasādam. He wanted to preach, just as his spiritual master and Godbrothers were preaching. Such a program wouldn’t require that a sannyāsī or brahmacārī come and preside. Abhay could do it himself. This would be an example of the ideal household life. But Radharani was unsubmissive. Rather than coming to hear him speak, she stayed with the children in another room – taking tea.

Abhay also studied the scriptures on his own – his spiritual master’s commentary on the Gītā and Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam as well as commentaries by the previous ācāryas. While reading Viśvanātha Cakravartī Ṭhākura’s commentary on Bhagavad-gītā (Second Chapter, forty-first verse), he read that the disciple should consider the order of the spiritual master to be his life and soul. These words produced a deep effect on Abhay, strengthening his desire to execute Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī’s command. And in the Eighty-eighth Chapter of the Tenth Canto of Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, he came upon a verse in which Lord Kṛṣṇa said something that startled him:

“When I feel especially mercifully disposed towards someone, I gradually take away all his material possessions. His friends and relatives then reject this poverty-stricken and most wretched fellow.” Abhay shuddered as he read the verse. It seemed to speak directly to him. But what did it mean? “Does it mean,” he thought, “that Kṛṣṇa will take away all my money?” Was that what was actually happening? Was that why his business plans were failing? He discussed the meaning of the verse with Śrīdhara Mahārāja. Yes, Śrīdhara Mahārāja confirmed, this might very well be what was happening between Lord Kṛṣṇa and Abhay.

In July 1935, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī came to install the Deity of Lord Kṛṣṇa and to institute Deity worship at the Bombay center. He was pleased with what his disciples had done so far, and Bhaktisāraṅga Mahārāja admitted that much of the work was due to Abhay Bābū, who had collected funds and established the new center. “Why is Abhay living separately?” Bhaktisāraṅga asked. “He should be president of this Bombay center.”

Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī replied, “It is better that he is living outside your company. He will do. When the time comes, he will do everything himself. You don’t have to recommend him.”

Abhay had not been present when this was spoken, but his Godbrothers told him what Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta had said. These words of his spiritual master, with their mysteriously prophetic air, were important to Abhay. He treasured the words within himself and meditated upon their meaning.

In November 1935 he was again with his spiritual master in Vṛndāvana. It was the Kārttika season, the ideal time to visit Vṛndāvana, and Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta was staying for a month with his disciples at peaceful Rādhā-kuṇḍa, the sacred lake where Rādhā and Kṛṣṇa used to sport.

After leaving Bombay in July, Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī had gone to Calcutta, where he had spoken on radio, delivered many public lectures, welcomed back the preachers he had sent to Europe, and finished publishing his Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam translation and commentary. Then in October he had come to Rādhā-kuṇḍa. Occupying the small one-story house Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura had constructed, he had been reading and speaking to the assembled devotees on the Upaniṣads, Caitanya-caritāmṛta, and Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam. He had also installed Deities at Śrī Kuñjavihārī Math.

The banks of Rādhā-kuṇḍa were overhung with bright green foliage growing from the gnarled branches of ancient tamarind, tamāla, and nim trees. In the shallows of the water, cranes stood on stiltlike legs, while river terns skimmed across the lake, sometimes abruptly diving for fish. Sometimes a tortoise would poke its nose up from the water’s depth, or a fish would jump. Green parrots, usually in pairs, flew in and out of the green trees, and sparrows chirped and hopped from place to place. Peacocks were also there, mostly in nearby gardens, as were occasional rabbits and even deer.

The atmosphere was enriched with the history of kṛṣṇa-līlā. Five thousand years ago, Rādhā and Kṛṣṇa had engaged in transcendental pastimes here, and only five hundred years ago Lord Caitanya had rediscovered Rādhā-kuṇḍa. Lord Caitanya’s great follower Raghunātha dāsa Gosvāmī had resided here for many years, constantly chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa and discussing the activities of Lord Caitanya Mahāprabhu. And here, in a small bhajana-kuṭīra, Kṛṣṇadāsa Kavirāja had written Caitanya-caritāmṛta, the narrative of the pastimes of Lord Caitanya that Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī relished so much. Many of the inhabitants at Rādhā-kuṇḍa were bābājīs, living in small bhajana-kuṭīras and spending their time chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa.

Having heard of his spiritual master’s stay here, Abhay, bringing his son with him, had traveled from Bombay, just to have darśana of his spiritual master. To see Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta was always an occasion for jubilation, but to see him in Vṛndāvana was an added perfection. This meeting with his beloved guide and friend was different from the time in 1932 when Abhay had seen him on the Vṛndāvana parikrama. Now Abhay was no longer sitting anonymously in the back of a room. Now he was a bona fide disciple, recognized as the “kavi,” who had written the praiseworthy poem and essay, the young man who listened well, the devotee who had helped the Allahabad maṭha and who had established the maṭha in Bombay. Already on this visit Abhay had had occasion to be alone with his spiritual master, who had remembered Abhay’s son and presented him with a small bandhī (jacket). And now, as they walked together alone on the bank of Rādhā-kuṇḍa, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta turned and spoke confidentially to Abhay.

There had been some quarreling amongst his leading disciples in Calcutta, he said, and this distressed him very much. Even now, in Vṛndāvana, it weighed heavily on his mind. Some of his disciples had been fighting over who would use various rooms and facilities at the Gaudiya Math headquarters in Calcutta. These devotees were all members of the same maṭha, and the building was for propagating Kṛṣṇa consciousness under the leadership of Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī. Yet even in their spiritual master’s presence they were quarreling. Brāhmaṇas and Vaiṣṇavas were supposed to be free from envy of any creature, what to speak of envy of one another. If they were to fight now, what would they do after their spiritual master passed away? Abhay had no part in these matters and did not even know the details or who was involved. But as he listened to his spiritual master, he also became distressed.

Deeply concerned, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta said to Abhay, “Āgun jvalbe”: “There will be fire” – one day there would be fire in the Calcutta Gaudiya Math, and that fire of party interests would spread and destroy. Abhay heard but did not know what to make of it. Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta had fought so long and boldly to establish that anyone of any birth could be elevated to become a brāhmaṇa, a sannyāsī, or a Vaiṣṇava. But if his followers became contaminated by a little wealth and the desire for prestige, thereby showing themselves to be still low-class men despite their training and purification, then his mission would be disrupted. If in the name of religion they became attached to ease, position, and prestige, it could only mean that they had failed to grasp the teachings of their spiritual master.

Śrīla Prabhupāda: He was lamenting that these men are simply after the stones and bricks of the building. He condemned. He was very, very sorry.

“When we were living in a rented house,” Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta said, “if we could collect two hundred or three hundred rupees we were living very nicely at Ultadanga. We were happier then. But since we have been given this marble palace in Baghbazar, there is friction between our men. Who will occupy this room? Who will occupy that room? Who will be the proprietor of this room? Everyone is planning in different ways. It would be better to take the marble from the walls and secure money. If I could do this and print books, that would be better.”

Abhay felt his spiritual master speaking to him in urgency, as if asking him for help or warning him to avert a disaster. But what could he do?

Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta then said directly to Abhay, “Āmār icchā chila kichu bai karānā”: “I had a desire to print some books. If you ever get money, print books.” Standing by Rādhā-kuṇḍa and beholding his spiritual master, Abhay felt the words deeply enter his own life – “If you ever get money, print books.”

December 1936
  Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta was in poor health at Jagannātha Purī. Abhay was in Bombay, and he wanted to write his Guru Mahārāja a letter. “He is a little kind upon me,” Abhay thought. “He will understand my request.” And he began to write:

Two weeks later, Abhay received a reply.

Abhay at once recognized this to be the same instruction he had received at their first meeting, in 1922. He took it as a confirmation. There was now no doubt as to the purpose of his life. What his spiritual master had said in Calcutta in 1922 had not been a chance remark, nor had that been a chance meeting. The instruction was the same: “Turn yourself into a very good English preacher. This will do much good to yourself as well as your audience.”

Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta passed away from the mortal world on January 1, 1937. He had been spending his last days reading Caitanya-caritāmṛta and chanting on his beads. When a doctor had visited him, wanting to give him an injection, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta had protested, “Why are you disturbing me in this way? Simply chant Hare Kṛṣṇa, that’s all.” Amongst his last words to his disciples were,

In his last days he had remained fully conscious and had given instructions until the end. He had specifically and openly ordered that the affairs of his Gaudiya Math be maintained by a twelve-man governing body, which the devotees should select amongst themselves. Finally he had said, “Please accept my blessings to you all, present and absent. Please bear in mind that our sole duty and religion is to spread and propagate service to the Lord and of His devotees.” At 5:30 A.M. on January 1 he breathed his last.

Word very soon reached Abhay in Bombay. His immediate response was to cry with grief – no more the joy of an anticipated meeting, no more trips to Calcutta or Vṛndāvana on the plea of business just to see the tall, commanding form of Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta, the “evangelic angel.” This sense of never meeting again was difficult to bear. Philosophically, Abhay knew that there was no reason to lament. Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī had come into the world to execute the mission of Lord Caitanya, and now it was required that he leave this place and go to another, where he would again engage in the same activity. Yet even armed with this philosophy, Abhay felt all alone. His two great well-wishers were gone – his father and now his spiritual master. But he felt grateful that he had received a special mercy, a final instruction, just two weeks before his spiritual master’s departure. Abhay read his letter again and again – there would not be another. The intimate talks and meetings were now gone, but by this letter especially, Abhay would live in the instructions of Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī. The letter had come just in time. Now he knew for certain, no matter what anyone else said, how to please his spiritual master and stay linked with Kṛṣṇa. Following his order, he would conquer the feeling of loss at the disappearance of his most affectionate well-wisher.