Upon reaching the destination, I would slam on the brakes, turn off the ignition, and shove open the door—all in one action. After springing out, I would scramble to the other side of the car to help Radhanath Swami open his door.
Cool breezes swept across the open terrace of the two- storied house as hundred-odd people sat there cross-legged, listening to a spiritual discourse. The three of us, medical students, had to settle in the rear, close to the exit that led to the floors below; we had joined late. The speaker was supposed to be Radhanath Swami, but his student was on stage instead. Wanting to know the reason for the change, I whispered an inquiry to a neighbor. “Radhanath Swami is sick,” he whispered back,
Many memories are washed off by time, but some remain vivid—especially those that touch emotions. People of influence spur emotions of awe and reverence, and thus create telling memories in those they meet. Radhanath Swami’s first visit
The car pulled out of the airport terminal into the dense Mumbai traffic. I was now driving at snail’s pace with inches separating our vehicle from four vehicles on four sides. What could be more chafing for a driver? On top, my only passenger started to cough. With an air of annoyance I suggested, “Your health seems bad. You should take some rest now.”He replied, “Yes,” as I, through the rear-view mirror, saw him slightly nod in approval. Finally we reached the destination and my passenger patted my back and smiled graciously. His affection somehow pulled out my heart, but I didn’t know who he was. Being a newly appointed driver at Radha Gopinath temple, I hadn’t identified its spiritual head — Radhanath Swami.
