Homages Non-GBC Sannyasis, VP2026
Dear Śrīla Prabhupāda,
Please accept my humble obeisances. All glories to you.
The Spirit of ’66
Richard Witty caught word that you had landed on the Lower East Side and went to film Happiness on Second Avenue. He remembers:
I was touched by, in a sense, their naïveté. One of the people, I remember asking him how he felt. He said, “Oh, this is the most wonderful thing. I am so moved, I want to devote my entire life to this.” I said, “How long have you been involved?” He said, “Since yesterday.”
What a spirit! Some may say immature, idealistic, and unsustainable, but it was also undeniably magical. That rebellion, activism, nonconformity, spontaneity, exploration, and restless search for freedom generated an amazing energy. All it required was an infusion of authentic spirituality. Enter A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami.
How does someone from another generation, another country, another civilization look beyond all the differences and meet strangers with such love? You did just that. You didn’t lecture from a high seat wielding impersonal sermons. You went down – to the depths of the Lower East Side – lived with them, ate with them, befriended them. No distance, no performance, just complete generosity. Their beautiful spirit and your shining purity ignited something profound – a movement we now dedicate our lives to.
In another forty years, it will be ’66 again – though radically different. The world has changed, the movement has changed, the zeitgeist has changed. Here in ’26, amid all the changes, we realize that something of the ’66 spirit must endure if we are to dynamically catapult this movement into the next millennium. Are we still rebelling against materialism? Still willing to refuse the world’s ingrained conventions, to question its assumptions and ideologies? Do we have a progressively disruptive message? Are we prepared – not cautiously, but decisively – to present Śrī Kṛṣṇa to the world, knowing that without Him no philosophy, no practice, can ultimately satisfy? To “fit in” may mean to “fade away.”
Joan Suval, who took Misra’s classes at Ananda Ashram, recalled you vividly:
I always felt about him that he was a deeply serious man, serious about life. He never talked about his past, his personal life. I did ask him once or twice a question here and there, and he waved it away. He said, “Not important, that’s not important,” and then I began to feel it wasn’t important. What was important was what he was doing now.
The past is beautiful, and the spirit of ’66 makes the hair stand on end. It’s neither wholly present nor wholly absent, yet it demands serious recognition. We have inherited books, temples, and a global movement – but also a spirit. Will that spirit remain confined to history, or will it continue to shape it? You have serious work – lots more magic to manifest – and you’re looking for those who have the spirit. We have this opportunity, this responsibility – to internalize the spirit of ’66 and find our own unique, authentic expression. What we are doing is important, very important – for ourselves, for this crazy world, for the ongoing growth of this glorious movement … and for you, Śrīla Prabhupāda. May we become “deeply serious,” just as you were.
Begging to remain at your lotus feet,
S. B. Keśava Swami
Homages Non-GBC Sannyasis, VP2025
Dear Śrīla Prabhupāda,
Please accept my humble obeisances. All glories to your lotus feet.
To properly glorify you poses a unique challenge, given our conditioned limitations. Yet, with-
out this attempt, our inadequacy would simply remain. Though our understanding and praise
may fall short, we trust in your boundless love to shine through our shortcomings.
This humble offering, therefore, awakens hope that our devotion will foster a deeper reliance
on your guidance. Only through cultivating such guru-bhakti can we truly please Kṛṣṇa and
thereby comprehend and share His divine grace.
*
Prior to meeting you, my arduous journey of empiric theology had reached an impasse due to a
fundamental contradiction: the very act of seeking Truth through intellectual ascent is inherently
flawed. Academically analyzing God’s attributes mistakenly separates knowing from serving – a
distinction that simply does not exist.
This misconception further suggests that we might understand God without the essential com-
ponent of serving His representative. As we overcome such impersonal paradigms and develop a
relationship with Kṛṣṇa through guru-sevā, we catch a glimpse of the profound, intimate depths of
the Lord’s own mysterious heart.
Safeguarding the inner sanctum of His loving abode and the selfless purity of relationships
found there, the Lord establishes servitude as the means and goal of spiritual perfection. He
emphasizes devotion to Śrī Guru as the invocation for His personal grace and involvement in
our lives. When Kṛṣṇa smiles upon us with pleasure, we become eligible to experience an inner
sunrise.
My first introduction and interaction with you was through your books, which revealed to me
the nature of spiritual relationships. Your analogy of seeking the sun with a candle – the inade-
quacy of empirical understanding – resonated profoundly. It mirrored my own life’s journey, cap-
turing the essence of my inner struggle: yearning for a vision of Kṛṣṇa, a luminary forever shining
beyond the grasp of independent striving. The candle’s feeble light, representing my own efforts,
could never illuminate the sun. Kṛṣṇa’s darshan is revealed only by His own radiant glance and
grace.
Contrary to conventional knowledge, the sun’s brilliance – Kṛṣṇa’s light and love – is per-
ceived not with open eyes, but through the inner ear, when it is attuned to the divine message
transmitted by the unbroken lineage of paramparā. Enlightenment dawns upon us as the Lord’s
internal energy expands, illuminating our souls when our hearts are submissive and directed
toward Him in service attitude.
Kṛṣṇa then awakens our sleeping spirits, inviting them into the radiant warmth of His love,
heralding a dawning within the heart. Gazing beyond the limitations of our earthly understand-
ing, we glimpse our utter dependence on Śrī Guru’s grace. This dynamic is honored as Śrī Vyāsa-
pūjā, so prominently portrayed during our first experience of the occasion in 1972, setting a
precedent to follow for all time.
That year, here at New Vrindaban, the Janmāṣṭamī festival abounded with providential grace.
Your personal invitation for Śrī Śrī Rādhā-Vṛndāvanacandra to accept Their new temple as a
birthday gift, followed by your leading the celebration of Kṛṣṇa’s appearance, surcharged the
atmosphere, heightening the devotees’ expectations for the following day. Nandotsava marked
the perfect occasion for your appearance.
After the morning program concluded in the rustic valley – where Their Lordships reigned in
pastoral splendor – all eyes turned eastward, to the hilltop pavilion. There, final preparations for
your celebration were well underway.
Campfire smoke and the fragrant haze of morning cooking drifted through the meadow below,
while the first crimson blush of the new day revealed the pandal. Its silhouette emerged against
the brightening sky.
All paths converged on the trail leading to the hilltop, creating a confluence of many individu-
als’ journeys. Each was unique, yet all arrived in this exact place, at this precise moment, as if
guided by a collective destiny. Before us was a most vibrant landscape of colorful arrangements
and festively decorated cows. It was as though everything was conspiring to joyfully express eager
anticipation of our big Lord Jagannātha’s arrival. The visiting Rādhā-Dāmodara Deities, too, took
Their places on the altar, eager to preside over the day’s events.
Engulfed in the expanding ambiance, we felt the touch of your homeland’s blessed groves, as
if they too had descended to rejoice. As we ascended the hill, the pavilion emerged like a radiant
portal, catalyzing a vibrant spiritual awakening. Bathed in the glow and gentle current, we felt a
profound opening, a deeper attunement to absolute wisdom. It connected us to the fundamental
Truth – in Kṛṣṇa consciousness we are held, protected, and loved by Kṛṣṇa’s internal potency.
How perfect was this scene, falling most appropriately in the midst of your Bhāgavata Dharma
Discourse lecture series – the first of its kind in the Western world? That clear August morning we
experienced a hint of the inner meaning of Śrī Vyāsa-pūjā as you both explained and personified
the significance of the occasion.
*
The light, life, and love emanating from the śāstra became so vibrantly real, so palpably present,
that everything felt utterly fresh, as if we were experiencing it for the very first time. Hearing
Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam from the very embodiment of the bhāgavata, we found ourselves face to face
with the outer manifestation of Paramātmā. We finally saw, seated before us in your mortal form,
the eternal guide who had always accompanied us. It was you who had constantly watched over
us, walked beside us, and held us fast, even when the shadows of past conditioning tempted us
back into illusion.
A deeper unfolding began within us, a shift that was reflected through our surroundings. The
assemblage of wonderful events, elements, setting, and devotees was most heartwarming. It was
like a scene lifted from the pages of the Kṛṣṇa book, granting us privileged entry into the scrip-
ture’s inner essence. You were the source of that potency. You channeled the full influence of Śrīla
Vyāsadeva to illuminate new vistas of existence. In doing so, you became more intimately present
to us than we were even to ourselves.
Kṛṣṇa’s love, like a joyous current, began to cleanse and reshape us. Deep within, immortal
impressions of His Divine Grace took hold. The elusive dynamics of God realization became self-
evident in your association, a radiant testament to the truth that only through loving Kṛṣṇa can
we truly know Him.
Remembering you, we find ourselves ever increasingly inspired by your teachings. Through
them, we experience a genuine connection with Śrī Kṛṣṇa, forged in the resonant vibration of the
mahā-mantra. This sacred hymn is the innermost heart of all inspired scriptures.
With this sambandha – connection – we receive a lifeline to sustain us through long decades
of seeming separation. It overcomes the misconception that in your departure from this earthly
sphere we have lost ourselves yet again. The truth is you were never lost to us.
The paradoxical truth – that the deepest separation holds the highest communion within it – is
reconciled in your teachings. You live in them forever alongside your devoted followers, who
remain always with you. Therein your legacy endures and expands.
As we cling to this lifeline by assimilating your instructions, your presence prevails within the
sacred, eternal realm of transcendental sound. Your enduring influence carries us into ever deeper
intimacy with you.
Following your guidance, trusting implicitly in your words, our faith deepens. We know you as
the founder-ācārya because your presentation of the eternal truth is comprehensible to all human-
kind, even when people speak, hear, and act under the influence of diverse conditionings. In your
collective body of ISKCON, we have the ongoing privilege of displaying our love and loyalty by
cooperating among ourselves.
Today, we fondly recall the golden opportunity to host you here at New Vrindaban, where your
explanation of Śrī Vyāsa-pūjā breathed new life into our understanding of the book Bhāgavatam.
Serving you then, a mahā-bhāgavata – the very personification of śāstra – allows us to relive that
experience even today. Indeed, your mission affirms the truth expressed in that cherished bene-
dictory verse: “This Bhāgavata Purāṇa is as brilliant as the sun, and it has arisen just after the
departure of Lord Kṛṣṇa to His own abode, accompanied by religion, knowledge, etc. Persons
who have lost their vision due to the dense darkness of ignorance in the Age of Kali shall get light
from this Purāṇa.” (Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam 1.3.43)
That Vyāsa-pūjā, nestled within your Bhāgavata Dharma Discourses, became the very crux of
our spiritual journey. The morning ceremony, though externally brief, ushered in a pivotal and
extended epiphany in our spiritual lives. A revelation that blossoms anew each year with every
approaching Śrī Vyāsa-pūjā.
Your words, a torch of knowledge, anointed by the salve of your love, reveal a glimpse of the
world’s true source and goal. Listening to you, we discern a deeper harmony within the diverse
melodies of devotion sung across cultures and epics by gurus, sādhus, and śāstras alike.
Exemplifying the ideal disciple, taking your guru’s teachings to heart, even at your first meet-
ing, you are the perfect master. You are the culmination of all who came before, their contribu-
tions paving the way for your teachings and actions, your pastimes and precepts, to unveil the
summum bonum. What a vibrant reality it is, a landscape of touchstones where all movement is
dance and every word blends with the most sacred, enchanting song!
By descending from that supreme abode and coming before us, you planted a seed in the heart
of my former empiric self. Sprouting, it grows into the understanding that our unconditional
commitment to your perfect guidance offers the only means to realize scripture’s true import.
Now, at last, we understand the proper application of the ascending process. As our prayers
rise up to you, Kṛṣṇa consciousness descends in response. This reciprocal exchange, the very
quintessence of spiritual striving, is perfected in devotion to Śrī Guru and culminates on the
blessed occasion of Śrī Vyāsa-pūjā.
As the empowered representative of Lord Nityānanda, you expand the holy name of Kṛṣṇa and
the love of Vrindavan to the farthest corners of the world, supplying the most munificent welfare
service to all souls.
Today, as dawn breaks over that same eastern hill where we celebrated our first Vyāsa-pūjā, the
stillness of night transitions into a chorus of birdsong, setting the scene for echoes of the mahā-
mantra to perpetuate the spiritual life you breathed into this community.
In quiet reflection, I dwell upon your presence within the instructions you imparted to us here.
This practice anchors my soul even during life’s darkest storms. It ensures that your love shines
forth in all we say and do, to the extent we surrender unconditionally to serving your mission.
I see the ārati lamp of guru-pūjā on this most blessed day with more significance than my
empirical self could ever have conceived. Now, the gentle flicker of the flame has expanded into
a metaphor, representing the warmth of devotion in our hearts, a humble gesture to offer you a
welcoming reception.
For those of us striving to follow in your footsteps, the same imagery brightens our path, allow-
ing us to see our shadows and shortcomings anew, in the light of awareness and compassion,
kindled in the spiritual realm of vāṇī-sevā.
Your eternal servant,
Varṣāṇa Swami
Homages Non-GBC Sannyasis, VP2026
Dear Śrīla Prabhupāda,
Please accept my humble obeisances. All glories to your lotus feet.
The deadline for submitting Vyāsa-pūjā offerings finds us composing our contributions toward the close of winter. This morning, in the early hour of brāhma-muhūrta, dark storm clouds block the moonlight while the howling winds of an Arctic vortex pile snow into drifts around my cabin.
Within this sanctuary, as the golden luster of flickering flames dances over glowing embers in the fireplace, I find a perfect opportunity to turn inward before writing to you. The potency of sacred remembrance – smaraṇam – gently transports me into another dimension, awakening a range of devotional sentiments. From this interior warmth, a living memory draws me into the embrace of a pleasant afternoon sun bathing a verdant New Vrindavan meadow in comforting rays.
As remembrance deepens, your pastimes and precepts come into focus, assembling themselves into my Vyāsa-pūjā offering, blending past recollections with future expectations. In this convergence, the treasure of your enduring association is revitalized.
It is from this contemplative space that my intention arises – not to remind you of what you already know, but to share the ongoing fruits of a precious lesson you once emphasized to the pioneers of this community. It is a topic worthy of deep consideration in celebrating Śrī Vyāsa-pūjā.
Since that lesson took root, I have returned to it repeatedly as a daily practice. I now see how profoundly it shapes all aspects of my service to you. That sunny afternoon was in June 1976.
Your vyāsāsana is being decorated with fragrant flowers gathered from nearby bushes and vines. My youthful godbrothers and godsisters wait in eager anticipation of your blessed darshan.
You emerge from a nearby residence into this idyllic setting. The devotees bow down and make way as you approach the elevated seat of Vyāsa to preside over the assembly. We are unaware that this would be among the last darshans with you during your mortal presence.
The meeting begins with questions from disciples, as is customary. Our godbrother Taru Dāsa, seated at your feet, asks how we should respond when neighboring farmers repeatedly reply to our preaching efforts with, “We, as farmers, have no time for Kṛṣṇa consciousness.”
In response, you defer the question to His Holiness Dhṛṣṭadyumna Mahārāja, who is on your right side, fanning you with a cāmara. Being very pukka, and following the strict protocol you established, he begins to respond by citing scripture.
No sooner have the words, “According to the Bhagavad-gītā” left his lips, then you become very animated, thrusting your hand in front of him, gesturing for him to stop. You admonish him with the most unexpected words: “Don’t bring the Bhagavad-gītā into this conversation!”
The effect is immediate. The devotees, surprised, wonder why you would alter the protocol of verifying every statement with a scriptural citation.
Without pausing, you turn to His Holiness Puṣṭa Kṛṣṇa Mahārāja, who is waving a peacock fan on your other side, and ask: “How would you answer that question?”
Mahārāja begins, “Kṛṣṇa says …”
Again you raise your hand and stop him firmly. “Don’t bring Kṛṣṇa into this conversation!”
Now the devotees are utterly perplexed. Sensing that you are on the verge of emphasizing a crucial lesson, we are fully attentive.
Leaning forward toward Taru, you address the skeptical farmers he represents with a sharp and unforgettable chastisement. “Rascal! Can you make the sun rise or the rain fall? As farmers, you are completely dependent on Kṛṣṇa. Could you at least offer Him your gratitude?”
As suddenly as it arose, your spirited intensity softens into a naturally serene and peaceful countenance. You gently ask: “Any further questions?”
The devotees are delighted by the uplifting interaction. It takes years for the deeper effects of the exchange to unfold.
By that time, your dictations of the Bhaktivedanta purports have gone silent, leaving us dependent on your feature as caitya-guru for continued guidance.
One morning, recognizing your voice while acknowledging your internal presence as caitya-guru, I am drawn to a purport on Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam 10.14.35 found in the Sārārtha-darśinī. It’s commenting on Lord Brahmā’s eloquent prayers to Lord Gopāla at the conclusion of the brahma-vimohana-līlā. Although Śrī Gopāla remains outwardly silent as He hears Brahmājī’s praise, Śrīla Viśvanātha Cakravartī Ṭhākura suggests an internal dialogue takes place between them, in which the Lord reveals:
Others may be grateful for gifts that have already been given, but I am grateful for gifts that will be given in the future, and I reciprocate with these gifts even before they are given.
Here, gratitude is reframed – expanded beyond a gracious response to what has already been granted, evolving into a spiritual orientation toward blessings assured by providential grace. In this way, thanksgiving serves as both the mirror of divine consciousness as well as the portal through which the conditioned soul begins the process of reconditioning.
Through this insight, yet another dimension emerges, revealing a defining aspect of the Lord’s inner disposition.
What is unveiled in the Lord’s deep and mysterious heart is invited to awaken within His servants. As gratitude echoes in our individual consciousness, a sacred space opens within, unlocking the future by honoring the present.
From this awakening, gratitude draws our attention to even the simplest of occurrences. Included are those most essential necessities often taken for granted precisely because they are so readily available. Every breath, every heartbeat, every sunrise, and most tragically, so many of the utterances of the holy name. Thankfulness counteracts indifference toward the touchstone of Śrī Nāma.
The call to be grateful in everything does not imply appreciation for anything that displeases Śrī Guru and Śrī Gaurāṅga. This distinction is essential. Through proper appreciation, our past regrets and future fears dissolve into present service opportunities. As we give Kṛṣṇa our intentional presence, we feel His reciprocation in advance for services yet to be offered.
This includes the way He helps us to unlearn both the patterns forged by conditioned memories and mental projections thrust upon events yet to come. These loops inhibit the development of a renewed mind suitable for devotional life. When Śrī Nāma purifies the mirror of the heart, we are left with a clean slate to contemplate bhakti and rewrite our inner script. Therein we find the ability to fulfill Kṛṣṇa’s request that we always think of Him (Gītā 18.65) and know Him in truth (Gītā 4.9).
Whether in seasons of joy or times of challenge, our God-given free will lets us choose gratitude for experiences that cultivate inner strength, self-acceptance, and eagerness for the long, adventurous journey ahead.
Within a devotional community such as New Vrindavan, expressing thanks for the residents’ gifts, talents, and contributions encourages loving relationships. Spiritual camaraderie naturally follows, nourishing the Brajabasi spirit and fortifying your mission in this world.
As your disciples, we are called to serve others selflessly and carry on the responsibilities of your movement. In so doing we often set our own needs aside and forget that we, too, must receive in order to continue giving. Our inner sense of unworthiness so often becomes an obstacle to completing the sacrament of loving exchange.
Gratitude encourages self-worth, allowing us to humbly accept the support, kindness, and goodness that life offers. When we trust the perfect and wholesome nature of blessings themselves, we are freed from the need to know what will come next.
From such acceptance emerges a feeling of wholeness. The mind no longer chases what it imagines to be lacking as the abundance intrinsically present is revealed. Even when worries attempt to resurface, we need only look to the peace and fullness already within us.
With this clarity, gratitude becomes a feature of spiritual vision. Every experience is welcomed – whether the highest ecstasy or deepest disappointment – as a gift of grace.
We traverse seasons when Kṛṣṇa showers down such undeserved goodness to encourage us. These are complemented by episodes when His reciprocation seems withheld, as if to test our patience. These alternating experiences strengthen our faith, develop our perseverance, forge our character, and fortify our hope.
Whenever darkness gathers and life seems overwhelming, we are invited to rediscover the deep peace within our souls. This inner life is a gift from you, Śrīla Prabhupāda.
Gratitude transforms our inner realm which, in turn, shapes our outer landscape. As we embody it, our consciousness becomes inclined toward bhakti. Tensions melt away as we remember that every morning offers a new beginning, rich with opportunity to commune with you. By reconnecting to the heart and quieting the mind, we enter a reality where life grows brighter each day, revealing a higher truth and deeper perspective.
Though the distance is vast between where we are and where we long to be, a bridge is built with consistent gratitude. This practice connects us to what is not yet ours through an energetic signature which allows us to draw emotionally from, and resonate spiritually with, a divine account, to which we have a claim, even while full access to it depends upon our reaching spiritual maturity.
A perfectly enlightened Kṛṣṇa conscious soul resonates with the pulse of gratitude, harmonizes with the mellows of Vrindavan, and attunes to Kṛṣṇa’s heart. Such is the nature of devotees following in your footsteps, leading us back to home, back to Godhead.
When we chant Hare Kṛṣṇa, assured that it will bring perfection, we might initially be surprised to discover that we are, in truth, asking Kṛṣṇa to take away the very attachments we hold so dear. As our false self hides behind the mask of self-deception, the soul comes to realize gradually how Kṛṣṇa answers our prayers by relieving us from the anxiety and labor of defending an artificial facade. We then come to see how heavily we are burdened with pride, pretense, misdirected plans, and excessive comforts. How wonderful are Kṛṣṇa’s arrangements to set us free! How perfectly He prepares us to enter our own unique and special role in fulfilling His purpose.
The devotees’ joyful praise of the Lord, even as He dismantles their material prospects, serves among the finest testimonials of practicing what one preaches and embodying what one believes. With every loss, disappointment, heartbreak, and betrayal, we are being lovingly tested. Will we choose resentment, which hardens the heart, or gratitude, which softens it? If we truly desire to please and serve the Lord in a substantial manner, we will rejoice in the personal involvement of our most loving Deity as He prepares us to serve as instruments of His mercy.
You so masterfully planted the seed of gratitude within our consciousness during that most exceptional darshan, entrusting the tender creeper to our care. In retrospect, I see your response to the neighboring farmers as a suitable parable for us – a spiritual message cloaked within an agricultural context. What a perfect lesson for your pioneers on the spiritual frontier.
This pastime has helped us develop the proper consciousness required for undergoing the challenging paradigm shift that accompanies a second birth. To navigate such a metamorphosis, we are wholly dependent on the illumination dawning in your darshan, further nourished by the purifying shower of your divine grace.
The innermost lesson of brahma-vimohana-līlā has descended intact through the paramparā to be personally conveyed to us by you. Whenever I feel the need for additional inspiration, I simply return to that unforgettable darshan.
We have come to see gratitude as greater than thought and more dynamic than feeling. It is, in truth, a sublime potency accessible through personal choice. Its effect is evident in how it opens a space within that invites grace to blossom.
The gratitude that fructified in Brahmā following his internal dialogue with Śrī Gopāla catalyzed his appearance as Haridāsa Ṭhākura. As the nāmācārya, he perfectly embodies the ripened fruit of gratefulness, facilitating the will of the Golden Avatar.
With you, Śrīla Prabhupāda, Lord Caitanya’s līlā blooms abundantly, dancing joyfully to the breath of life, the treasure of Vrindavan – the mahā-mantra – received through your saṅkīrtana mission. Your message has awakened countless sleeping souls with the timeless hymn of the holy names as you sang them to this world.
And so, uplifted by the most confidential hymn of Vṛndā’s forest, we experience renewed communion with you every time we chant Hare Kṛṣṇa. In following the sacred path you revealed, while aspiring to reach the final destination where you now await, your darshan grows brighter and clearer with every passing year.
Even while everything in this mortal world fades away, we cherish your enduring, vibrant shelter in the golden warmth of vāṇī-sevā.
Through your pastimes and precepts, we become active participants in Lord Caitanya’s līlā, revealing the supreme abode and goal of life, continuing to expand through your enduring influence – living still in sound.
Your eternally grateful servant,
Varṣāṇa Swami
