Bonds of Love “Loving Krishna will help you love your son”
From the time she was 4, Urmila (Dr. Edith Best) was looking for God. If somebody said, “What do you want to do?” she’d say, “I want to be spiritually perfect. I want to find God.” They’d say, “Don’t you want to get married, have kids, have a career?” She’d say, “I just want to find God.”
Urmila Devi Dasi: My first contact with Prabhupada was in ’67 when I was 12 years old. I would regularly listen to him chanting on the Happening album playing in Alan Kallman’s shop on the Lower East Side. I’d ask, “What is this record? Who is this?” My next contact was through the Radha Krishna Temple Album, which I heard on the radio. Prabhupada’s picture was on the album and my initial response to it was skeptical. I thought someone who takes the role of guru might think he’s better than others.
When I was 17, I got Prabhupada’s translation of Bhagavad-gita. After reading it, I decided to move into the temple, but at first I didn’t want to get initiated. Soon after I moved in I got married; my husband was already second initiated, and in his association I started thinking, “How am I going to be able to find God and become spiritually perfect without a spiritual master?” Gradually my relationship with Prabhupada developed and I became his initiated disciple, after he accepted me through the mail.
When I first met Prabhupada in Chicago in the summer of ’74, a little more than a year after I’d moved in. I was expecting a mystical experience. Prabhupada was sitting on the vyasasana giving class and I was fanning him. I was standing very close, to his left, moving the peacock fan, absorbed in every word and gesture. My experience was, indeed, mystical, but not in the way I expected. I felt, “Prabhupada has always been here, because playing a recording of Prabhupada lecturing and listening to him lecture in person is exactly the same.” I was hearing him directly but I felt the same as when I was listening to a recording. It was satisfying and amazing – I realized that I could associate with Prabhupada even in his physical absence with potency equal to his presence. Still, I felt incomplete in the experience.
Later that morning, my father, husband, and I met Srila Prabhupada in his room and I got to know him as a person – he was funny, laughing, casual, jovial, and exchanging affectionately with my father. I understood he cared about me, as an individual, and I felt a loving relationship with him. At that point there was full satisfaction.
My father asked why we give people prasada, and Prabhupada said, “Just like if you eat the food of a sick person, you will get their disease. If you eat Krishna’s food, you will get Krishna’s disease.”
My father thought he was only supposed to come to the temple if he was a devotee, so he asked, “Can I come to the temple just to see my daughter and son-in-law?”
Smiling, Prabhupada said, “They are loving Krishna. Chanting and dancing are symptoms of loving Krishna. You are loving them and they are loving Krishna, so two things equal to the same thing are equal to each other.”
Prabhupada’s mood was light, but I thought, “Prabhupada said I love Krishna, so it’s just a matter of time. Someday I’ll love Krishna.” That meeting changed my life. And it moved my father. He said, “Prabhupada’s a genuine holy man.” He enjoyed Prabhupada’s company and became somewhat of a devotee.
Less than a year later, my baby son Madhava and I were with a group of devotees seeing Srila Prabhupada off at a New York airport. Prabhupada was sitting on a couch in the VIP lounge talking with Satyabhama, Kirtanananda, Jayadvaita, and a few others. I was a couple of feet away, holding Madhava. I felt left out of those devotees’ intimate connection with Prabhupada. I thought, “They really know Prabhupada well,” but it was also a relaxed time for me, getting to be with Prabhupada in a personal way again. During the kirtana, Prabhupada transported everyone to the spiritual world; I forgot that I had a body and that I was in New York. Prabhupada was meditating on chanting and I thought, “Prabhupada is chanting for his guru just as we are chanting for him.” It was incredible. Then at some point in the kirtana my external awareness flooded back: I was again in New York holding a baby.
For a year and a half after Madhava was born, I dove into Srila Prabhupada’s books and lectures. I read 4–6 hours a day, and listened 3–4 hours a day. Doing that deepened my relationship with him as much or more than when I personally saw him. During that period, in the summer of ’75, I went to Philadelphia for Ratha-yatra and to get Gayatri mantra. At class that morning, the devotee reading from the Bhagavatam manuscript said, “[Ajamila] called the name of his son very loudly three times, ‘Narayana, Narayana, Narayana!’ “
Prabhupada responded, “Who said in the manuscript? There is no three times. Not “Narayana” three times. One time, ‘O Narayana,’ that’s all. So did I say ‘three time’? Hmm? No, it is not said here. You should correct it. Once, ‘He, O Narayana,’ that’s all. There is no reason for calling three times. There is no mention here. Once is sufficient. [laughter] Hmm.”
(lecture Srimad-Bhagavatam 6.1.28–29, July 13, 1975, Philadelphia)
It was life-transforming for me to hear him say that calling out Krishna’s name just once in helplessness is enough.
Later that morning my father, husband, and I met with Prabhupada again. When he saw us Prabhupada’s whole face lit up as if we were his favorite people in the world. Like he was meeting a dear old friend he said to my father, “How are you now?” My father responded with similar exuberance and joy. As we were leaving Prabhupada said, “Good father, good daughter.” Prabhupada saw something good and worthwhile in me; he was pleased with me.
When I got Gayatri mantra my husband was carrying Madhava, and Prabhupada’s attention went to the baby. Prabhupada said, “He’s laughing. He’s very intelligent and fortunate.”
Prabhupada had me repeat the mantra, and I thought, “I don’t want to say it perfectly because Prabhupada will think I’m puffed up.” To try to be humble I purposely made a mistake when I repeated the last line. Prabhupada looked disgusted. I thought, “Oops, that wasn’t the right thing to do.” I said, “Prabhupada, I want to preach and please you, but I have this little baby. It’s hard to go out on book distribution.”
He said, “You must take care (of the child) so you may not go out.” The feeling I got from Prabhupada was, “This is really a stupid question.”
The next time I saw Prabhupada was in the summer of ’76 when he came to New York for the Ratha-yatra. Again my father met with him. At one point Prabhupada pointed to me, with my eighteen-month-old son on my lap. He said, “Just like this mother is loving her son without any expectation of return, in that way you should love Krishna.”
My father said, “Will loving her son help her love Krishna?”
Prabhupada said, “No, but loving Krishna will help her love her son.” I understood that if we have Krishna as the center and are attached to Him, then we can love everyone else. If we love people on a mundane level, it doesn’t help us love Krishna – it takes away from that love.
Somehow what Prabhupada said when I was with him was just what I needed to hear. His words changed me in deep and lasting ways.