Listening to Prabhupada Sing Alone in His Room, 1965

Up in his room alone in New York City, he is singing, “Krishna kirtana … vande rūpa-sanātanau raghu-yugau śrī-jīva-gopālakau.”  He is calling to them.  We did not understand of whom he was singing.  To us it was simply, “Swamiji is singing.”  And “Krishna.”  That was the vision, simply to know his mood, to hear his karatals.  He was crying to the Lord.

Why did he record those songs?  He may not have known at the time what he would do with the tapes.  He may not have known how his solitude in New York City would later become a legend.  “… gadādhara śrīvāsādi-gaura-bhakta-vṛnda.” 

Prabhupada, you had so little money:  Camping in an office lent by a yogi; barely having enough for eatables to pay the high prices, to survive the Manhattan cold – but you are not afraid.

Śrī-kṛṣṇa-caitanya-prabhu … patita-pāvana-hetu.  Dr. Mishra allowed you to stay, but no lectures.  Someone knocked on your door bringing brown rice from the macrobiotic restaurant and inviting you downtown.  I recall the story tonight and your singing from 1965, hā hā prabhu nityānanda. 

We want to follow you, Srila Prabhupada, although we fight so much.  We pray to receive you in the standard ways.  Please deliver us from the wrongs of ordinary life in which we tend to get stuck.  Please deliver us from forgetfulness of you, forgetfulness of your mission.