Srila Prabhupada: “Yes, she cooks for me, and all I do is criticize her. But she would slit her throat for me, and I would do the same for her.”
Malati: When we first arrived in Mayapur, it was the days of the huts with the thatched roofs, the water pump, and the mud everywhere. Srila Prabhupada was staying in the brick hut. My husband, Shyamasundar, was his secretary, and I was his cook. I had always wanted to be his cook, and Krishna had rewarded me. But in Mayapur I was faced with not only service of guru, but service of husband, service of daughter, and trying to maintain my sanity in the situation. Materially it was impossible. There was no facility. I was living in a tent. I had two buckets of water to cook with and the servant would come every day and grab one of the buckets before the meal ended to heat water for Prabhupada’s bath. Each day I had to confront the treasurer, whose duty it was to not give money, and I would usually have a royal argument with him concerning funds for Srila Prabhupada’s bhoga. Then, while going to buy the bhoga, I would have an argument concerning money with the riksha-wala, with the boatman, with the vegetable walas, because they all expected ten times the proper amount from a white person. I had to fight with everybody I dealt with. To double my anxiety, which was already at peak level, Prabhupada’s servant would come and take away the stove just before lunch. On top of that, every day I was thinking, “How can I please Srila Prabhupada?” I really wanted to cook perfectly for him. I would think about it all day. Even when I wasn’t cooking, I would be planning for the next day, “How can I do it perfectly?” And it seemed as if every single day he told me something that I was doing imperfectly. One day there was too much salt. The next day there was too little. I started thinking, “What am I doing? I can’t do it right. Everything I do is wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t be cooking. Yeah, someone else should be cooking. I will tell Prabhupada to get someone else, or I will get someone else who can do it better.” I started feeling relieved. All I had to do was tell Prabhupada, and that was it. The next day I went into his room full of this idea. His God-brothers were coming for lunch that day. Another source of my anxiety was that Prabhupada’s God-brothers were criticizing Prabhupada for many things, and one of them was that Prabhupada had a female cook. I was the cook, and therefore I felt badly about that too. Since his God-brothers were coming for lunch I thought, “He certainly won’t have me cook today. I will tell him tomorrow.” But he called me into the room and started telling me what he wanted for lunch. So, I went to make the lunch, and I brought it in. He was sitting at the end of the room like a royal king, and on each side of him were old, stately Vaishnavas with dandas. It was an impressive sight. I felt completely intimidated, but I had to go in. I entirely covered my head and hands with my sari, and I got down on the floor on my hands and knees. I curled in with the plate, put it down, offered obeisances, and started slithering back out. Then I heard Srila Prabhupada say, “Yes, she cooks for me, and all I do is criticize her. But she would slit her throat for me, and I would do the same for her.” When he said that, I completely disintegrated. By the time I got to the other door, my sari was wet with tears. I realized how mundane my consciousness had been and how my anxiety had been based upon a misunderstanding of the relationship between the guru and the disciple. Every day I had been thinking, “How can I do it perfectly? What would he want?” and he was telling me. He wasn’t criticizing me. I was just taking it in a mundane way. But because I wanted to know how it could be more pleasing to him, he told me. I was in illusion as to the position of a disciple and what the relationship of servitude meant. It is not, “You pat me on my back.” That was my misconception. When I heard Srila Prabhupada say that, I realized that it was absolutely true. There was no doubt about it. My mood was that I would have done anything for him. But it had never occurred to me how Prabhupada would also do anything for us. Then I realized that he was already doing everything for us. My insignificance at that point was immense, along with my gratitude and love for him. The potential for love was certainly revealed to me.