Page 17 - MMOSP (English)
P. 17

My Memories of

                            Çréla Prabhupäda



             I first met Çréla Prabhupäda in Ireland, early in 1975, in the
             form of one of his books—a paperback edition of Kåñëa, the
             Supreme Personality of Godhead (Volume Two). The sky-blue
             cover featured a beautiful silver-framed picture of Kåñëa and
             Balaräma, and the back cover displayed an equally attractive
             photograph of Çréla Prabhupäda. I read from the beginning
             of the book (it started at Chapter Thirty-six), the first three
             sentences of which remain in my mind even now:

               Våndävana was always absorbed in the thought of Kåñëa.
               Everyone remembered His pastimes and was constantly merged
               in the ocean of transcendental bliss. But the material world is
               so contaminated that even in Våndävana the asuras or demons
               tried to disturb the peaceful situation.

             Although eager to read the book, I progressed through it
             slowly, as I found the content to be weighty and recondite, and
             the linguistic style and the many Indian words unusual. Yet I
             recognized that the message was from a platform beyond the
             triviality of this world, and I began to follow, at least in a small
             way, one instruction that Çréla Prabhupäda has given therein—
             to chant the Hare Kåñëa mantra. I continued to read, with no
             idea about the significance of what I was doing. Little did I
             know that soon my frustration, emptiness, and misery would
             be finished forever, and that—with shaved head, Vaiñëava
             tilaka, orange robes, a beadbag, and a big smile—I myself would
             distribute thousands of such books.

             About two years earlier, my best friend at school had bought
             some  books  from  devotees  on  Oxford  Street,  London.  He
             wanted to show them to me, but I didn’t even want to see them,
             and scoffed, “All these Indian swamis are cheaters.” But by this



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