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.

December 7, 2021

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 […]
December 7, 2021

Optimism is my primary emotion these days as I scan the planet and worldly affairs and weigh your accomplishments to date and picture how the future […]
December 7, 2021

Srila Prabhupada was totally fearless in every circumstance—on the tossing deck of a cargo ship across the rough Atlantic; wandering the mean streets of lower Manhattan […]
December 7, 2021

Oh, please forgive me, Prabhupada, if sometimes I sailed into your room unbowed or jokingly said your tilak’s a mess or laughed when you tried to […]