My dear Śrīla Prabhupāda,
Please accept my most humble obeisances. All glories to your Divine Grace.
It is only by your divine grace that I am still living in this same body and that I continue to live
this amazing life of Kṛṣṇa consciousness. Where would I be without you? I hate to think, but it
would absolutely certainly be somewhere not nice at all, to say the least.
Mukunda Mahārāja tells us that one day, in a meeting with you, you became deeply absorbed
in remembrance of your own spiritual master, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī Ṭhākura, and tears
flowed down your cheeks. “My spiritual master,” you said, and your voice, he says, choked to
gravel. “My spiritual master,” you said, “he was no ordinary spiritual master.” You paused again
and then whispered falteringly, “He saved me.”
I have sometimes thought of this amazing transcendental happening and wondered what
exactly you meant when you said “He saved me.” You were born in a family of devotees and your
father was a pure devotee. What was there to be saved from? But this is how you felt, and we
respect that, and it is another deep expression of yours that we relish and appreciate.
On the other hand, someone like me was definitely saved. Sometimes people talk of a fate
worse than death. They feel that death is the end and there’s nothing beyond it. Everything is just
finished, and they feel this is the greatest disaster possible. But we know that there is a fate worse
than death, and that is to go to the hellish planets and suffer untold miseries for all the terrible
sinful activities we have performed. This was certainly the case in regards to me, and you literally
saved me from it.
I remember sitting in front of the very large photo of you seated on a vyāsāsana in your lounge
at the Bury Place temple in Central London. It was January 1973, and I had recently moved into
the temple. I was gradually realizing more vividly how you had saved me from hellish existence.
The realization overwhelmed me, and tears came from my eyes. I couldn’t understand why you
had done that for someone as degraded as me, and the feeling of having received causeless mercy
swept me away to another realm.
But this is you. You are a savior, and all owe you an incalculable debt. You were no ordinary
spiritual master, and you saved us from fates worse than death.
Now our time is running out. Have we done enough to reciprocate with you for the inestimable
gifts you have given us? Is it possible to reciprocate sufficiently? Of course not, but let us try our
best in these last few years we have left to do something – as much as we can – to show you our
gratitude.
My prayer on this most sacred day is that Lord Kṛṣṇa gives me more intelligence so I can
appreciate you more and more and reciprocate more and more. Let that be my meditation and the
foundation of my life.
Śrīla Prabhupāda, I thank you again and again for saving me. May your glories be spread
throughout the three worlds. You deserve it.

Your humble and lowly servant,
Bhakti Caitanya Swami

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