In Your Divine Grace's garden in Los Angeles, I was seated amongst a few disciples at your lotus feet ("the disciple learns love from the spiritual master"). We were softly chanting japa, waiting for you to speak something (revelation). The joyful sound of kirtana was coming from the temple room, and you said (by your causeless mercy), Was it you, Gargamuni? Or was it someone else who asked me if these kirtanas were disturbing me in the garden? "You laughed beautifully, raising your eyebrows high, and said, "It is Vaikuntha!" At that very moment the sound from the Temple poured out the side entrance door, down the path and up through the garden gate, enveloping us all in a tangible ocean of nectar. Completely immersed, the hairs on my miserable body standing on end, I continued softly chanting japa that was nectar into the nectar air. Part of me, all too sure of my polluted condition, waited for the end of this endless moment that would never be lost ("all varieties of rasas or mellows turn into eternity"). The evening rays of pale, yellow-gold sunlight, slanting overhead into the trees beyond the garden wall, were emanating from Lord Krsna's body, and He felt very near, as if behind the far garden wall (acintya-bhedabheda-tattva).

Rupanuga Dasa, Vyasa Puja offering 1973