To your disciples, you were an affectionate spiritual father. To your godbrothers, you were a loyal and trusted friend. To countless devotees throughout the world, you were a source of inspiration. And to the conditioned souls who had never heard the holy name, you willingly accepted extraordinary austerities so they might receive Krishna’s mercy.
I watched that spirit manifest throughout your life. I saw it during the pioneering years of our movement, when hardships were accepted almost joyfully because we believed completely in Srila Prabhupada’s mission. Years later, I saw that same spirit when you dedicated yourself to opening the preaching in China.
Very few devotees will ever know the sacrifices you made there. You quietly accepted obstacles that would have discouraged most people, convinced that if even one sincere soul came to Krishna, every hardship had been worthwhile. That was simply who you were.
Again and again, you stepped where no one else was willing to go. You accepted responsibilities that others hesitated to accept. You embraced challenges that seemed almost impossible. Yet despite all your accomplishments, I never had the impression that you thought of yourself as extraordinary. Beneath your remarkable leadership was the heart of a servant. Whatever service Srila Prabhupada placed before you, you accepted wholeheartedly and gave yourself to it completely.
Then, by Krishna’s own arrangement, you became the first of Srila Prabhupada’s initiating spiritual masters to be placed in samadhi in Mayapur. I still remember the shock that swept through our society. Your departure came far too soon.
Whenever a devotee leaves this world, we naturally feel the pain of separation. But when a devotee of your stature departs, the loss reaches far beyond family, disciples, or friends. The entire Vaisnava community feels it. The world itself seems somehow quieter. A little emptier.
In this dark age of Kali, saintly devotees are among humanity’s rarest treasures. And every time one returns to the Lord’s eternal service, the world becomes just a little poorer for those left behind. We all mourned your departure, Goswami Maharaja. I certainly did. In ways that are difficult to describe, my own life has never been quite the same since you left.
Sankirtana has always been a team effort. Srila Prabhupada built this movement by bringing devotees together, each offering his own unique service in a spirit of cooperation. When one of the principal members of that team suddenly departs, everyone feels the loss. It is as though some of the strength that carried us forward has quietly been taken away.
The mission goes on because it belongs to Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu. New devotees join, new leaders emerge and the preaching continues. Yet we never stop missing those who inspired us to serve with greater courage, greater conviction and greater faith.
I miss you. I miss your presence on the preaching battlefield. I miss hearing your voice. I miss our conversations about preaching, about Srimad Bhagavatam, and especially about the ever-deepening mysteries of Vraja bhakti. Most of all, I miss my friend.
Yet as painful as your departure was, it was also glorious. By the Lord’s arrangement, you left this world in the sacred land of Mayapur, near Phuliya, where Srila Haridasa Thakura performed his extraordinary bhajana, chanting three hundred thousand holy names every day. You departed on the disappearance day of Jagannatha dasa Babaji Maharaja and Rasikananda Prabhu. Even in your final moments, Krishna seemed to surround you with extraordinary auspiciousness.
I will never forget your samadhi ceremony. Virtually the entire leadership of ISKCON had assembled. Members of the GBC, many sannyasis, temple presidents from around the world, your disciples, your godbrothers, your friends and countless devotees gathered to honor your life of service.
It was a farewell worthy of one of Srila Prabhupada’s greatest generals. More than that, it was the farewell of a devotee who had earned the affection and respect of thousands, not merely because of what he had accomplished, but because of the sincerity with which he served.
There is something you once told me that I have never forgotten. In 1997, when my disciple Vraja-lila dasi left this world in Vrindavan, you lovingly consoled me by saying that after her departure she would occupy a transcendental position from which she could continue to bless those she had left behind. Those words remained with me. Today I think of them in relation to you.
Wherever you are, whether serving Radha and Krishna in Their eternal pastimes, or once again assisting our beloved Srila Prabhupada as he expands Lord Caitanya’s mission beyond our vision, you are fully engaged in the Lord’s service. Of that I have never had the slightest doubt.
And from wherever you are, I pray that you will sometimes think of me. Please bless me that I may continue serving Srila Prabhupada with the same courage, determination, loyalty and missionary spirit that I so admired in you. Those qualities were your gift to so many of us. I pray they may remain my guide for the rest of my life.
As I look back now, one memory returns to me more than any other. I see us standing together at the Los Angeles Ratha-yatra. I hear you say, “Indra, let’s form a team.”
For many years, I regretted not accepting that invitation. But perhaps Krishna simply had different plans for the two of us.
Still, if by His arrangement the day should ever come when you once again turn to me and say those same words, I can promise you one thing. I won’t make the same mistake twice. This time, with great happiness, I will gladly lead the kirtan while you give the lecture.
You encouraged me to accept the renounced order of life. By your example, you taught me to love preaching. And if you should ever call me again, I will happily follow you anywhere.
Until then, thank you, my dear godbrother. Thank you for your friendship. Thank you for your example. Thank you for helping shape the devotee and the sannyasi I have become.
