Genuine Kirtana

Exotic it was, yet anyone could see that a swami was raising an ancient prayer in praise of God.  This wasn’t rock or jazz.  He was a holy man, a swami, making a public religious demonstration.  But the combination was strange: an old Indian swami chanting an ancient mantra with a storefront full of young American hippies singing along.

Prabhupada sang on, his shaven head held high and tilted, his body trembling slightly with emotion.  Confidently, he led the mantra, absorbed in pure devotion, and they responded.  More passers-by were drawn to the front window and open door.  Some jeered, but the chanting was too strong.  Within the sound of the kirtana, even the car horns were a faint staccato.  The vibration of auto engines and the rumble of trucks continued, but in the distance now, unnoticed.