Sometime in 1982, at the age of ten during a day off school, I saw something I shall never forget. At that time, I attended a rather strict all-boys boarding school. My schoolmates and myself, plus one of our teachers, were on a field trip to the historic English town of Glastonbury, a mecca for post-modern, counter-culture types. We saw about twelve people there, mostly men in robes, and we thought they must be Buddhists or some kind of later day hippies. They were singing, chanting something, and playing musical instruments. In the way that schoolboys are very adept, my schoolmates started running around them, simultaneously mocking and imitating them. I stood watching the whole thing feeling quite amused. Our teacher admonished everyone and gave us a lecture about proper respectful behaviour and representing the school. The incident was soon forgotten, but it stayed in my head for some time. This was the first experience I can remember of the people who would later become known to me as the Hare Krishnas.

For the next five years or so, there were no (obvious) Krishna conscious experiences in my life. Then one day, when I was about fifteen, I was with my mother in the center of our town in the northwest of England. A man with an outrageously colorful wool hat, a clipboard, and large bag over his shoulder, approached us. I thought he looked cool. Before the man had any chance to speak, however, my mother abruptly said, “No! Not today thank you.” I was bit shocked by her tone as he went off to talk to someone else. I asked Mum, “Who was he?” She said he was, “One of those silly Hare Krishna men. We don’t need to talk to them.”

Over the next couple of years, I would see the Hare Krishna men quite a bit in the town center, and sometimes I would stop and chat with them. They seemed like nice guys. They would start asking for money or get out one of their little books. I would then make up some excuse and be on my way. I saw them rather regularly at this time, and, one day, I confronted one of them about the fact they always seemed to ask for money. He smiled and said, “Money comes and money goes. The point is to use it properly while its there.” I thought this was simultaneously both a smart-alec and practical answer. I was actually quite impressed by the quip, so much so that I gave him £2.00 (in those days that was quite a significant amount to me). He said he would prefer a “fiver” (£5.00 note). I said, “Oh, yeah, I bet you would!” I then refused to take the little book he was offering me. I was becoming annoyed now and stated that I did not want to be brainwashed, thanks! He did not seem affected by this and just asked me to chant “Gauranga” and be happy, which I did. Then, I went off.

I hadn’t paid any attention to the Hare Krishna men for the first months at college, taking a course in business and finance there. Part of that curriculum required spending one day a week in work placement, and I chose a large, well-known, upscale bookstore chain. I was quite happy about this, as I was really into reading classic fiction at the time. One day at that work placement site, I noticed some customer had left copies of Matchless Gift and Krishna book on one of the shelves. I thought they looked very interesting, but the store manager told me to leave them behind the counter, in the event that the customer came back for them. Throughout the rest of my shift, I kept going back to the Krishna book and sneaking a peak at some of the amazing pictures.

I wanted to take the book home with me. It was actually a great relief when, at the end of the day, nobody had come back for them. The store manager said I was welcome to take them home as long I did not return to work with a shaved head, wearing orange robes. I told him that he had nothing to worry about. I took them home and read them with great enthusiasm. Despite some of the extraordinary activities pictured and described in Krishna book, I simply accepted it all as true. I could not understand why everyone did not know about this stuff and was not constantly into it.

For the next couple of days, I even chanted Hare Krishna to myself when walking around. After this, I started talking about Krishna consciousness to some of my college friends. They opined that it was all rubbish--a money-grubbing rip-off; they expressed various views of that nature.  I wasn’t sure but wanted to remain accepted by them and keep their respect. So, I rejected Krishna consciousness almost as quickly as I had gotten into it.

I spent the next two or three years without the slightest thought of Krishna Consciousness or, indeed, any kind of religious activity. I don’t recall seeing the Hare Krishna men during this time. When I was twenty-one, I was living with my girlfriend, and we had a baby boy. Not long after the baby turned one year old, I was lying in my bed staring at the ceiling, and the thought hit me like a brick: Sooner or later, I was going to die. Suddenly, it seemed like a very serious and terrifying prospect that I needed to do something about. I had no idea what that was, but felt I needed to figure it out--and quickly.

It occurred to me that my friends, family, and possessions would count for very little when death came calling. I started reading an old Bible we had in our house, and this gave me some comfort, as well as an idea about the meaning of life and death. I told my girlfriend I was not happy living with her and the baby anymore and needed to figure what was really going on. I did not explain myself very well.  Shortly after this, I moved into a place on my own. I was still reading the Bible heavily in those days.

One of my old school friends was living literally around the corner, on the next street. Since school, he had become very popular and well known on the alternative culture scene, and I started spending a lot of time at his place. He now had a large social circle through which I met some new friends, who were all into Hare Krishna and had been for some time. There were about eight or nine of them altogether. They seemed really cool and very happy people, telling me, if I wanted proper answers about life and death, I should read some of the Hare Krishna books. I was not sure about this but eventually took copies of Easy Journey to Other Planets and Perfect Questions, Perfect Answers from them. They invited me to the weekly Hare Krishna meeting, but I declined, as I had started attending the local Methodist church and wanted to see how that effort would pan out. I did agree to read the books, however.

Perfect Questions, Perfect Answers seemed perfectly named. I was really impressed, as it seemed to contain the exact questions and answers that I had been looking for. The author and interviewee, A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami, seemed to be a properly wise and religious man. A few weeks went by, and one of these new friends told me there was a Hare Krishna festival coming Sunday to our town. He said I should come along with them and attend. I said I would like to but I did not want to miss church.  Despite my enthusiasm over Perfect Questions, Perfect Answers, the church thing seemed to be going quit well. I thought the preacher was quite good and liked the fellowship of the congregation. My friend told me the Hare Krishna festival would not start until three in the afternoon; I could do both.

I could hardly wait for Sunday, and, when it arrived, I went to church. It was nice. It was a beautiful day. After church, I walked to the large public hall near the civic buildings where the festival was being held. At the door was a Hare Krishna man dressed in white robes, with some sort of unusual mark on his forehead (which I came to know as tilak). He looked really impressive and smiled broadly. He said he was very glad to see me, apparently remembering me from some years earlier when we had spoken in the street. I had no memory of that and was a bit surprised. Anyway, I went inside to see that my new friends were already there. They introduced me to a couple of Hare Krishna men, who I then learned to refer to as devotees. They seemed very nice and pleased to see me, and then the festivities got underway.

There was something called kirtan (congregational chanting), bhajan (singing devotional songs in a smaller group), as well as lots of beautiful pictures and incense. The whole atmosphere was new and very attractive. Then, it was announced that there was to be a guest speaker, a disciple of His Divine Grace A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada. I was really anxious to hear what he might say. His name was Tribuvanatha, and I was not disappointed. Rarely have I ever heard anyone before or since preach with such enthusiasm, authority, and conviction about anything, let alone Krishna consciousness.

His speech seemed insightful concerning the real problems of life (i.e. birth, old age, diseases and death, as well as the sufferings from the threefold miseries of material existence), and he spoke about solutions to these problems. He was direct and at times very witty. To put it simply, I was completely blown away. He then proceeded to lead a very ecstatic kirtan. Everybody there was dancing and chanting with great joy. I could not recall ever having seen anyone worship God with such vigor, enthusiasm, and obvious delight, and I have never set foot in a Christian church as a worshiper ever since.

There was also something called prasadam, foodstuffs that have been offered to Krishna. The remnants were then taken by us as His mercy, in order to purify the consciousness and advance spiritually. I was already vegetarian and found it very delicious. It was also free; I really appreciated this, as I was quite poor in those days. In fact, the more I ate, the more pleased the devotees seemed to be!  At that point, I came to the conclusion that I had found exactly what I had been looking for throughout my life.  One of the devotees I had met earlier asked me if I would like to be on their mailing list and attend another festival in couple of weeks. He had hardly finished speaking when I replied, “Oh yes, absolutely.” I also bought a copy of Sri Isopanisad to take home. This is still one of the best days that I can remember, from the moment I awoke until going home and reading almost all of Sri Isopanisad in one sitting. When I finally took rest, I felt more satisfied and calm than I had been in a long time.

A Shock to the System

“This is ‘ISKCON’: What we say, how we say, and when we say!!”

For the next couple of weeks, I attended Hare Krishna meetings each week. After the first week, two or three people joined the movement. It was a very exciting time. I bought a copy of Nectar of Instruction mainly because I liked the cover. It had a drawing of two sages--one writing and one studying--and they looked really far out. Nectar of Instruction is actually a very serious treatise by the great sage Srila Rupa Goswami. It describes the scientific process of choosing a guru (spiritual master), how to practice the topmost yoga system (Krishna consciousness), and even the most suitable place to live for the highest development of one’s spiritual life.

A week later, I went to the next festival, which was a couple of hundred miles to the east in a neighboring county. Everything was much the same as before, only this time the devotees performed two brief comedy/dramas, both with an underlying and serious philosophical point. One was called Liquid Beauty, which was all about not being this body:

dehino’ smin yatha dehe kaumaram yauvanam jara
tatha dehantara-praptir dhiras tatra na muhyati

“As the embodied soul continually passes, in the body, from boyhood to youth to old, the soul similarly passes into another body at death. The self-realized soul is not bewildered by such a change. (Bg., 2.13)

The other was called Bhogi Yogi, a cautionary tale serving to make one aware of the existence and activities of pretender gurus. Their purpose was shown to be cheating and misleading others for their own personal profit and sense enjoyment. The play also showed how to recognize the bona fide guru, using intelligence (discrimination), with guidance from scripture.

tad viddhi pranipatena pariprasnena sevaya
upadeksyanti te jnanam jnaninas tattva-darsinah

“Just try to learn the truth by approaching a spiritual master. Inquire from him submissively and render service unto him. The self-realized soul can impart knowledge unto you because he has seen the truth. (Bg., 4.34)

At the end of the proceeding, one of the devotees told me that most of the others from the weekly meeting were staying over at a house the devotees had rented, a base for their transcendental book distribution efforts in the area. He said his guru would be there, and I readily agreed to go; this seemed like too good of an opportunity to miss.  That evening there was more prasadam at the house. By now, I was really getting a taste for it! I was lent a sleeping bag and allocated a spot on the floor to sleep. They played a CD of Srila Prabhupada at a gentle, repetitive volume all night. This was great, but I was far too excited by everything to sleep. The next morning, everyone rose very early and took turns in taking a freezing-cold bucket bath. I was jokingly told this would be nectar, but it was a bit of a shock to the system.

It got me feeling very alert, very quickly.  Later that morning, I was given some beads and a bead bag, and I attempted to chant Hare Krishna along with everyone else. I found this to be a somewhat intense experience. Then the “guru” appeared from another part of the house. He was a huge man in terms of physical size; his personality matched his body. He gave some talk or class, but I can’t really remember the details. At the end, he simply asked me and my new friends if we were going to surrender and join like the others. I just said “yes,” as did everyone else. Looking back, it’s fair to say that I put very little—actually no--serious thought into this decision whatsoever. In any event, a week later, and I was in the temple. I had not told my family or anyone back in my hometown of my intentions or whereabouts. The routine of temple life was a real shock to my system, especially for the first two or three weeks. I could hardly tell what was actually happening during this time, but, after awhile, things seemed to settle down a bit.

Sometime very shortly after this, I happened to come across a picture of an apparently charismatic man in an old Vaishnava song book, and I asked who he was.  I was informed that he was a “former guru,” one who had somehow fallen down. Indeed, many of the devotees in the temple had previously been his initiated disciples. I came to find out that he, along with ten others, had previously accepted worship as mahabhagavats, devotees on the highest platform of God-realization. I was confused by this. From what devotees had told me, and from scriptures like Bhagavad-gita and Srila Rupa Goswami’s Nectar of Instruction, a pure devotee never falls down. After a soul achieves perfect self-realization, he never again falls below that stage, drawn back to temporary material things. If this man had not been such a pure devotee or had not achieved the perfection of self-realization, how and why had he even become a “guru” in the first place?

Furthermore, how had these devotees, having been his initiated disciples, now accepted initiation from another “guru?” I was under the impression the guru-disciple relationship is an eternal spiritual relationship. In fact, at least one of these new devotees was already on his third “guru.” I was told this so-called mahabhagavat was one of eleven senior men left in charge when Srila Prabhupada departed, after which they had immediately become “gurus.” Apparently, there had been fall downs and scandals connected to all of them. I was told that this was the movement’s “growing pains” and maya’s (illusion’s) having a pop at the movement after Srila Prabhupada departed. I was told also that it could be seen as a “test” of the sincerity of those who had stayed in the movement and taken “re-initiation” from another “guru.”

I did not find this explanation at all satisfactory and I still don’t! So, even at that very early stage of my time in “the movement,” my faith in so-called ISKCON and its so-called “gurus” took a really serious blow. It was stated in Srila Prabhupada’s books that when a person becomes a topmost devotee, he never again deviates from Godhead. I was served up the explanation about “growing pains” and “tests” many times but always thought to myself that a really pure devotee never falls down. If they weren’t on that highest level to begin with, why the hell were they “gurus” in the first place? This was never properly answered by any of my leaders. It was even more shocking to me to find out that some of these eleven characters were still being accepted as “gurus”!

I was really deeply disturbed by all this but was told by the devotees that it was all in the past. Things had finally been sorted out, and their current “guru” was completely bona fide. I was told that the disturbances and difficulties I was experiencing were the fault of my listening to my own mind. I was also told I was in maya or that this was all a test of my sincerity, in order to see if I was serious about making progress in Krishna consciousness. All apparent problems and contradictions would automatically be resolved and disappear if I seriously and properly applied the process. I was not entirely convinced by these explanations but had some faith in Srila Prabhupada, his books, and the chanting.  As such, I resolved to carry on despite all these issues.

It did not take long for another one to emerge, this time relating to book distribution. It seemed to me devotees were often not straightforward in their dealings with people on the street. As distributors, our clothes, etc. were chosen to disguise our being Hare Krishna devotees. We were armed with a clipboard and a volunteer worker ID, but our purpose was “the pick” (this is the common slang in the movement for getting money from people). I was not alone in voicing my concerns over this. Many senior devotees pointed out that, if the spiritual master authorizes the method, then it’s fine. The point, supposedly, was to surrender and make the best effort to prosecute the service.

It turned out, however, that on the day we were to go out (our first full day of book distribution), the “guru” said everyone should do “straight books.” We were all really enthusiastic about this. On my first full day of book distribution, myself and another devotee were dropped off at the upscale street of a small town, the name of which escapes me. He was on one side of the street, and I was on the other. I spent the day approaching people, asking them if they had one of these books yet. It was Sri Isopanisad that I was distributing, always one of my favorites--in fact, it still is. Most people said “no” and didn’t want one, but some did. It was a difficult yet pleasant task; at the end of the day, I had distributed twenty-one books and collected £19.

When the two senior devotees came to round us up in the van, they asked me how it had gone. With great enthusiasm, I told them my results. One looked extremely unimpressed and the other, who I shall refer to hereinafter as the senior cheater, for reasons that will become obvious, asked me if I had even tried. This really got to me--I resented it massively; still do.

Many devotees thought senior cheater was a really nice and sweet devotee, but I did not share that view. The emphasis on results, especially in terms of monies collected, was always his big criterion. A person’s success or failure on any given day was always judged by how much each collector had netted, as well as the largest donation each had managed to pick from a single source. This approach flies directly in the face of the philosophy regarding detachment from the fruits of action, maintaining the service attitude, and remaining equipoised regardless of material success or failure.

After that first day of “straight books,” it was back to simply doing “the pick.” After having been “hit up,” after having donated without knowledge of what he was donating for, we would just hand that bewildered person a book. I was never really happy doing this but was informed that there was no problem--because it was authorized. I was told that, by these methods, many more people could be engaged in service without their knowledge and thus make spiritual advancement. I eventually got into it to some extent, going along with the thing just like everyone else. Still, from time to time, for an hour or two during the course of a day, I would put the clipboard away and switch to doing straight books. Sometimes, this went well; other times, it did not.

Then, after a few months, it came to crunch time. That was the 1995 Christmas marathon, and devotees were all issued charity collection tins. Some were still doing the pick and keeping the collection tin in their bag, while others were standing around on the street, shaking the tins at people, claiming to be collecting to help the underprivileged and all sorts of lies. This just seemed completely dishonest and wrong. One day, I could not take it anymore. I shared my concerns with an older devotee, and it was explained to me that huge numbers of fallen souls could be engaged by these methods. He called the money “laxmi” and said that our collecting it would liberate it from the hands of people who would otherwise use it sinfully in pursuance of sense gratification. Some books could be distributed, as well.

I was not at all satisfied with this, and my expressed disappointment led to the “guru” himself picking me up and taking me back to the temple. Their concern—and they were right to be concerned--was that I was about to cause a scene there in street. This “guru” explained to me that he knew very well that devotees “occasionally” told lies, and he was not overly concerned about it. In fact, he told me he would willingly lie to engage someone in his service, as well as lie to keep them in his service. This explanation did not help me at all, of course. It only added to my confusion, as this was the very essence of just what seemed wrong and unjustified to me at that very time.

After few more days, I could not take it anymore, so I rang my mother. She was not impressed. I got lectured about there being no contact between us for months. It was difficult to justify myself, especially since I was calling her to help me get out of my current predicament. I found out sometime later that the “guru“ had been listening in on my conversation on another line. Needless to say, finding this out did not impress me. Anyway, Mum sent my sister in a car to fetch me, a journey of a few hundred miles.

After a week or two at my mum’s, they all got into their Christmas festivities. I could not settle into that lifestyle at all, so I rang the temple, begging to be allowed to back. This was to become a cycle of activity repeated many times over the next five or six years, causing varying degrees of mental and emotional disturbance for both myself and my family members.

During that cycle, there were times when I would just do straight books or, at least, present the book first. For a period, all the devotees had to do this, because two devotees (who were the biggest book distributors and “laxmi” pickers) had been featured in the papers, caught (on camera, as well) making the false claim that the money they were collecting was meant for feeding starving children, along with other equally outrageous and blatant lies. We were told this bad publicity was all the result of their surrender and desire to serve. In any event, I was more comfortable using the direct and honest methods. With a little determination, the same results could be achieved. Devotees often find the service more difficult to perform honestly, but this isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

My happiest time in “ISKCON” was when I was engaged in traveling sankirtan. Devotees doing this service were allowed more independence. I would often go to a city center and distribute straight Bhagavad-gitas. This was and can be a very rewarding experience. One weekend, we went back to temple and some devotees asked if I was really doing straight Bhagavad-gitas and, if so, how I was doing it. So, I told them to present the book to someone and sell the fact to them of just how amazing the literature is. Put it in their hands and ask them to pay for it. It may sound easy, but it takes determination.

That Sunday after class, the “guru” said there had been some talk amongst devotees about everyone doing straight books again. He pointed out, by that method, less books would likely be distributed and less people would make donations. He also asked who amongst us would be comfortable going out in the middle of a city like Glasgow everyday--in dhoti and tilak--trying to do straight books.  He spoke of how this could have a negative effect on the preaching. He was quite persuasive, and many devotees were nodding along as he spoke like this. Finally, he asked who wanted to it that way or was actually prepared to do it that way, and I was the only one to put my hand up. I was then humiliated by him and made to feel naive and stupid. To this day, I believe that the whole charade was actually meant to embarrass me in front of everyone. I had seen similar machinations in relation to other devotees over different issues. As far as I am concerned, this man is nothing more than a money-grubbing bully and control freak. I became completely disgusted with this so called “guru” when he laid this trip on me that day.

On another occasion, when he sat talking to the assembled devotees, one of the bhaktins or uninitiated women who had joined (from my same town) happened to walk past. With great relish, he started going on about the shape and length of her legs. All the men present had a good chuckle. It was like being in a public house with a group of drunkards during which some sexist vikarmi jerk (sinful non-devotee) was making a complete fool of himself. Could anyone imagine going to church and the priest speaking and behaving like that in front of his congregation? The atmosphere of that environment on that particular day was about as spiritual as a public lavatory. This man was never meant to be in the renounced order of life!

Another incident around this time also further confirmed my decision to leave corporate “ISKCON.”  This one happened in the company of the man I have already referred to as senior cheater. It was during a period when we were required to present the book first, before hitting the person up. The two of us were sent to distribute at what was supposed to be a lucrative spot. After a couple of hours, it was clear the pick that day was not going well for either of us. So, under his instruction, we returned to the vehicle and got the two charity collection tins he had stashed in the back. He said, “Look, we want a big score, right? We’ll just use these.”  I said, “Prabhu, this does not seem right to me.” To which he replied, “It is, because I have authorized it.”

We spent the next four hours going around the street claiming to be collecting to help underprivileged, inner-city redevelopment (or just about anything we could think of), all without distributing a single book. On the way back, we stopped next to a high rise block of flats, went to the top of one of them, and simply put a book though the mail slot of every door, working our way down. I felt like a criminal and was ashamed of myself. When we got back to the temple, we submitted our book scores along with everyone else, and nothing more was said. Previously, this was the man who had been given the service of training us up to become devotees. He himself was on his second so-called ISKCON “guru” at the time. He is now in his third “re-initiation” and has been promoted to temple president! This is why I refer to him as senior cheater.

This all basically proves that corporate “ISKCON” is an organization of the cheaters and the cheated. They are cheating Srila Prabhupada. They are cheating any new devotees who come their way. They are cheating any members of the public who have any kind of contact with them; in fact, they are rather pathetically cheating each other, as well. For the guru-disciple relationship to work properly, both parties must be genuine and sincere. This explains why senior cheater is on his third so-called guru and running one of those temples. It would be laughable--if it wasn’t such a tragedy!

Despite all this, I had not given up. I wanted to get the issues that were bothering me resolved and receive guidance about whether it would be best for me to live on the outside, performing service when I felt comfortable in doing so. I was still coming and going quite a bit at this stage, making a real effort to become eligible for initiation. I spoke to my sankirtan leader, and he said that each Sunday, after class, when the temple president asked if anyone needed to see the “guru” about anything, that I should put my hand up. So, that Sunday I did this and went to wait outside his room.

He was already having some sort of private discussion with one of his female disciples, which was a bit odd, as he was supposed to be a sannyasi (celibate monk). There was another female disciple in queue ahead of me. Anyway, after his private “discussions” with these two women, his servant/secretary asked what I had come to speak to the “guru” about. He then went to inform the man that I was waiting outside his door. I overheard the “guru” say that he did not have time to talk to “the likes of Bhakta Mike” right now. If I had any issues, I should just go to my sankirtan leader.

This was the end. A few days later, in the middle of a day’s book distribution, I got on a train and went to my sister’s house. My mother was fed up with me by then, and she still is--almost ten years later. I know for certain I will never waste another second of my time having any involvement with so-called “ISKCON.” I spent the best part of the next decade willfully avoiding any connection with Hare Krishna whatsoever.

I wouldn’t even talk about it to those closest to me. However, once having turned toward Lord Krishna, He is not someone who can be avoided so easily. Recently, my wife of the last eight years started to take more of an interest in Krishna. Remembering my previous involvement with so-called “ISKCON,” I was somewhat wary of this development. I have become quite cynical and suspicious of anyone I come across who claims to be a devotee or connected to Hare Krishna in any way.

Recently I looked on the INTERNET to try and see where the movement was now at, how things may or may not have progressed. It was a nightmare: Masses of scandal, corruption, and fallen gurus, with incredible levels of deviation both inside and outside so-called “ISKCON.” As my wife pointed out, it’s almost enough to put you off before you even start. I can only sadly describe it now as a “Krishna conscious” horror show.

Then I came across a you-tube video called Guru and Disciple part One. It featured a rather serious looking man talking about the guru and disciple relationship. He was indeed serious and straightforward. Everything he said was logical and completely bona fide in terms of guru, shastra, and sadhu.  I had never heard anyone speak so clearly and with such authority about the history of the Krishna consciousness movement, the deviations that had taken place within it, and the facts about the deviant splinter groups. All of this was included in an astounding five-part series. 

This devotee is Kailasa Candra prabhu of the Vaishnava Foundation. His presentation of Krishna consciousness has become more and more attractive to me, right up to the point where, after all these years, I am again chanting sixteen rounds on a daily basis and reading Srila Prabhupada’s books again. I am even considering, more and more, the prospect of once again going out and distributing Srila Prabhupada’s books. This is still, aside from actually reading them, one the greatest pleasures I have ever experienced.

Quotes from the books of His Divine Grace A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada are copyright by the Bhaktivedanta Book Trust