At dusk I chanced to meet Radhanath Swami near the temple gate. As he hurried out, he inquired, “So, everything alright?”
“I am heading to Mayapur tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“To submerge the ashes of my deceased father in the Ganges.”
“When did that happen?….” He stopped. His expression grew grave.
In the overcrowded prayer hall of Radha Gopinath Temple, I sat on the floor softly chanting the Hare Krishna mantra on my prayer beads. My murmur merged with the murmur of thousand-odd others to fill the ether with the buzz of the anthem— Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare.
Usually devotees sat in small circles of eight or less during this prayer period from 5.45 a.m. to 7.30 a.m. But today, there were thousands of pilgrims from far and wide, and they all sat chanting the mantra with their visions converging on Radhanath Swami, their spiritual star,
