Pradyumna das, currently residing at ISKCON Radha Govinda Mandir in New York, shares his cherished memories of Srila Prabhupada:
My First Meeting with Srila Prabhupada
I arrived in New York around midnight. The Lower East Side was quiet and dim, but my mind was buzzing with anticipation. I made my way to 26 Second Avenue, the original ISKCON temple. After knocking several times, someone finally opened the door. The place was crowded—brahmacaris sleeping wall-to-wall on the floor. I lay down, but sleep didn’t come. Around 2 or 3 a.m., I figured, “Swamiji must be up. I’ll go see him.”
Tiptoeing through the temple and garden, I reached his apartment upstairs. I knocked gently. A voice asked, “Who is there?” I replied, “It’s Paul from Montreal.” He recognised me from the letters I had sent and welcomed me in. His room was simple: a metal trunk covered with a cloth, a couple of books, and Swamiji seated on a blanket behind it. He asked about Montreal and we talked. That morning, I had the privilege of doing my first personal service for Srila Prabhupada—helping him weigh his correspondence with a handheld scale to determine postage.
When I commented that I thought he’d be up by three, he replied, “I got up at one this morning. I am up since one, working.” That same meeting, I asked about initiation. His response was simple and direct: “Oh yes, we can initiate you tomorrow or the next day.”
Beginning of Sanskrit Service
In the Montreal temple, I began learning Sanskrit on my own. Three Indian gentlemen would occasionally take prasadam with us, and I’d ask them about the Devanagari script. One gave me a small grammar book, and I began decoding the letters. During the summer of 1967, when Prabhupada fell ill and was planning to return to India, we all gathered to see him in New York. While browsing a bookstore with Acyutananda, I discovered a copy of Sri Brahma-samhita, published by Bhakti Vilasa Tirtha Maharaja of the Gaudiya Matha. It featured a photo of Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati Thakura.
We brought it to Prabhupada. Weak but alert, he lit up when he saw it. “Ah, my Guru Maharaja,” he said. I asked if it was bona fide. He responded, “I knew this book, Brahma-samhita, by heart. It was done especially by my Guru Maharaja.” He encouraged us to read it.
The edition included Sanskrit in Devanagari, English translations, and purports, but no transliteration. Later that summer, as devotees began singing the Govindam prayers, I realized the words were hard to follow. I thought, “Perhaps I can transliterate this.” I began work and sent half of the Brahma-samhita transliterations to Prabhupada. His response was unforgettable: “This is wonderful. I’ll make copies for all our devotees. Please complete this. You can do great service for the Society.” That was the real beginning of my Sanskrit service.
Editing the Bhagavatam for ISKCON Press
After gaining proficiency, Prabhupada entrusted me with the original manuscript of the Second Canto of Srimad-Bhagavatam, which he had typed and corrected himself. Many devotees were editing manuscripts in those early ISKCON days—Hayagriva, Kirtanananda, Rayarama—but to hold that original, to be asked, “Edit this,” was a deeply humbling honor.
Later, Prabhupada began translating the Third Canto via audiotapes sent to Satsvarupa. I lived with Satsvarupa and Jadurani in the Boston temple and began transliterating verses from the Gita Press edition, which included Sanskrit and English. I typed them all out as my contribution to the growing publication effort.
OSU Yoga Society and Allen Ginsberg Event
When Hayagriva became a professor at Ohio State University in Columbus, Prabhupada instructed, “Start a center there and take Pradyumna with you.” We did, calling it the OSU Yoga Society. It attracted many students, and soon we established a center and invited Prabhupada to visit. In May 1969, he came.
Around that time, Allen Ginsberg, who regularly opened his poetry recitations with the Hare Krishna maha-mantra, agreed to a joint event with Prabhupada. We put up posters with both their photos and filled the university’s largest auditorium. When Prabhupada rose to chant and dance, the entire audience stood and danced—a spontaneous eruption of joy and devotion.
Mission of Sanskrit Typesetting
After I married, my wife and I went to see Prabhupada. His question was direct: “Now that you’re married, what is your service?” He immediately gave us a serious responsibility—procure and operate an IBM word processor capable of Sanskrit diacritics. We found and purchased the top model, installed it in our bedroom, and began work on The Nectar of Devotion. I would edit while my wife typed. We mailed our work to New York, and soon we were also working on Isopanisad.
Eventually, the ISKCON Press moved to Boston in 1969. I left my post as Columbus temple president and moved with the word processor in tow. In Boston, I focused exclusively on Sanskrit editing—applying correct diacritics, spelling, and grammar for word-for-word translations. I also sent frequent queries to Prabhupada for clarification, which he encouraged with letters: “Yes, you can do this. That is okay.” I transliterated Sanskrit prayers, helped with songbooks, and for ten years, produced the ISKCON calendar, translating almanacs Prabhupada sent me.
Prabhupada’s Simplicity
Despite his global mission, Prabhupada lived simply. He disliked telephones, calling them a “nuisance.” When he answered one, he held it like a strange object. He remarked, “Your phone rings all the time; it’s a nuisance. In India, someone comes to your door, you say, ‘Ayee, ayee, come in!’”
I remember one day in Los Angeles when he reflected on his worldview: “Our Indian philosophy is open door, open window, open mind. We do not like to be blocked in.” That summed up his spirit—open, welcoming, and deeply committed to transmitting timeless wisdom in every available form.
This was the privilege of my life: to serve Srila Prabhupada—not only with my hands and mind, but with the Sanskrit letters and spiritual language he so dearly cherished.
From Chasing Rhinos with the Swami:
Pradyumna probably spent more personal time with Srila Prabhupada than any other devotee, traveling with him for years to edit and transcribe his books. I ran into Pradyumna again a few years back in Mumbai. For decades now, Pradyumna has worked for Religions for Peace, a UN-accredited organisation based in New York City. His job is to go all over the world and interview spiritual leaders from every faith and dis-position, and to gather the best of them together for seminars and talks. Priests, rabbis, swamis, imams, lamas, witch doctors, sadhus, holy men of every stripe-you name it, he’s met them. I said, “Pradyumna, you’ve met the Dalai Lama, the popes and cardinals, yogis in Himalayan caves, every guru on the planet — how many Prabhupadas are out there?” Pradyumna is a sober person, an intellectual and professional skeptic. But this time he rolled his eyes back, got a silly grin on his face, and said, “No one even comes close!”