Sanatana Prabhu's Remembrances ~ Page 2

Remembrances by
Sanatana Das
part 2

When Prabhupada was doing a public program in London 1973, someone spoke after the lecture “Jesus Christ is coming again, what will you do then?”

Srila Prabhupada said, “Yes he is coming again, we will welcome him with open arms.”

Speaking at the University of Nairobi which is an all black university, Srila Prabhupada began by saying, “God is black!”

This was met with applause and cheering.

Then he said, “But He is not black like you. He is transcendental.”

Then there was something that didn’t seem strange at the time because everything was new and unusual anyway but later when I became more conversant with the way devotees do things, looking back and remembering it was worth a smile at least….

The maha-prasadam would come off the altar and be transferred onto a tray. The ‘maha milk’ would be put in a metal bowl and handed to whoever was most enthusiastic to get it. He or she would drink form the bowl one mouthful and hand it on to the next most enthusiastic and so on all around the room until it was all gone.

It was an austere life back then and we rarely got enough to eat except at the Sunday Feast.

The maha-prasadam from the 4 o’clock afternoon offering was eagerly awaited by those who weren’t out chanting in the street or selling Back to Godhead, but one day things took a bizarre turn. Sometimes it seemed that the devotee who brought the ‘maha’ out of the kitchen was taking his life into his own hands as we would push and shove and snatch things off the tray. The devotee holding the tray would be like a small boat in a storm.

The Temple room was above the kitchen and one day the pujari was coming down the stairs after arati with the tray. The ravenous mob met him part-way up the stairs, each devotee determined to get something before it was swallowed up.

We could only see the bottom of the tray. Well the first two could see the bottom of the tray but most of us could only see the backs of the other devotees. As we surrounded him, he lowered the tray a little more and said, “It’s only the arati tray.”

We released him and he completed his journey to the kitchen like one who has escaped certain death.

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