Chuck Converses with Swamiji

Inevitably, meeting with Prabhupada meant a philosophical discussion.

Chuck:  I asked him, “Can you teach me raja-yoga?”  “Oh,” he said.  “Here is Bhagavad-gita.”  He handed me a copy of the Gita.  “Turn to the last verse of the Sixth Chapter,” he said, “and read.”  I read the translation out loud.  “And of all yogis, he who is worshiping Me with faith and devotion I consider to be the best.”  I could not comprehend what “faith” and “devotion” meant, so I said, “Sometimes I’m getting some light in my forehead.”  “That is hallucination!” he said.  So abruptly he said it – although he did not strain his person, the words came at me so intensely that it completely shocked me.  “Raja means ‘king’ – king yoga,” he said, “but this is emperor yoga.”

I knew that he had attained such a high state not by using chemicals from a laboratory or by any Western speculative process, and this was certainly what I wanted.  “Are you giving classes?” I asked.  He said, “Yes, if you come at six in the morning I am giving classes in the Gita.  And bring some flower or fruit for the Deity.”  I looked into the adjoining room, which was bare with a wooden parquet floor, bare walls, and a tiny table, and on the table was a picture of five humanlike figures with their arms raised above their heads.  Somehow, their arms and faces were not like any mortal that I’d ever seen.  I knew that the picture was looking at me.

When I came out on the street in front of the storefront there were a few people standing around, and I said, “I don’t think I’m going to take LSD any more.”  I said it out loud to myself, but some other people heard me.