O Prabhupada! Sometimes I’ve stayed this trail with you, glued to your lotus heels. Other times I wandered off, far off, and lost you in thick entanglements and concrete jungles. Sometimes we have camped and slept in adjoining beds. Some mornings I awake and find you gone, and I am desolate. But somehow here I am again, tucked into your slipstream and rocketing along at your usual lightning pace. Out here, Srila Prabhupada, out here now, I’m far past the point of no return—out of the pandemonium. How silent and sure it has all become out here, beside you, my sole anchor, guide, and friend.