SRILA PRABHUPADA:

THE TRANSCENDENTAL ART MASTER

At our very first meeting, Swamiji, who later
became known as His Divine Grace A. C.
Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, told us to
paint pictures of Lord Krishna. It was in January
of 1967. Only a month prior to this, both Gary
and I had been art students at the University of
Texas in Austin. As soon as Swamiji heard we
were studying art, he engaged us in doing
transcendental artwork. And he became our
“transcendental art master.”
When we met Swamiji, as he was called then,
we had been away from the University for little
more than a month. So we were never really
“hippies.” Almost immediately, we were
initiated by him and given the names,
Goursundar das and Govindadasi.
During my first year of college, I had studied
under Thomas Payne, one of the best
watercolor artists in America. I had also
excelled in life drawing, as I had a flair for
drawing the human figure. Between my second
and third year of college, I studied art in
Europe, in France and Italy, and for a short time
in Holland. So I was familiar with the Medieval
and Renaissance Schools of art, as well as those
of the Dutch Masters, and the art history of
Europe, as well as England and America. Yet
nothing could have prepared me for the
wonderful world of transcendental art that
Swamiji, SrilaPrabhupada, was about to bring to
the realm of mankind.
My first assignment was a huge painting of
Radha and Krishna, beside a Surabhi cow, near
a desire tree in the Vrindaban background. The
painting was four foot by four foot; Swamiji
gave me a small book jacket to copy. It was the
cover of his SrimadBhagavatam that he had
brought from India. Then he described the
details.
So only days after meeting His Divine Grace, I
was painting daily on this large work, while my
husband, Goursundardasa, read aloud to me
the first three volumes of
Swamiji’sSrimadBhagavatam. These three
volumes that had traveled with Swamiji from
India were the only books we had. Though they
sounded like “Indian English,” in places, they
were wonderfully inspiring; one of my best
memories in life is painting and hearing from
those early volumes of SrimadBhagavatam.
However, since I was a new devotee, I often
had to ask questions about the work. Swamiji
welcomed my questions; he clearly wanted me
to paint everything exactly as he described. So
I would go to his nearby apartment, where
Hayagriva was often present as well, working
with Swamiji on the manuscripts of his books.
Hayagriva would ask questions about the
manuscripts, and I would ask questions about
the artwork. Swamiji welcomed our questions;
in fact, he encouraged them.
Since the book cover he had given me was
quite small, I had to ask him about various
details. For example, I had no idea what color
to paint Krishna’s eyes. So, on one occasion, I
went to Swamiji’s apartment to ask about this.
He was sitting in his rocking chair in the tiny
living room, chanting on his japa beads. He
welcomed me with a big sunshine smile.
After offering my obeisances, I asked,
“Swamiji, what color are Krishna’s eyes?”
For a few long moments, Swamiji was quiet.
Then, with a faraway look, as if he were actually
gazing at Lord Krishna across the room, he said,
with absolute certainty, “Blackish!”
I had the distinct feeling that he simply looked
into another dimension, one that I could not
see, and into Lord Krishna’s lotus eyes. This
was one of the first of many mystical
experiences while working with
SrilaPrabhupada.
As soon as the large painting of Radha Krishna
was complete, and hanging on the Frederick
Street temple wall, Swamiji called me to his
apartment. There, he gave me several
snapshots of himself that had been taken by
Mukunda. He told me to choose one of them,
and to paint a portrait of him, sitting on the
Vyasasana in the newly formed San Francisco
temple. He specified that the painting of Lord
Chaitanya’sSankirtan Party should be hanging
on the wall behind him, and that “Lord
Chaitanya’s Lotus Foot should be just touching
the top of my head.”
This large painting, four foot by three foot, was
to be positioned on the Vyasasana whenever
he went away to preach in other places. It was
to be treated as if SrilaPrabhupada, the
Acharya, were present there in the painting.
Admittedly, this painting was much more
difficult for me. Though I had excelled in life
drawing from models, and faces and figures
were my speciality, painting SrilaPrabhupada’s
expressions proved to be quite a challenging
assignment.
Nevertheless, within a month, the painting was
successfully completed and hung above his
Vyasasana. He seemed pleased with it. It was
by then around March of 1967, and Swamiji
was planning his return to New York.
Goursundar and I traveled with him; he flew
and we went by car, crossing the nation in only
four days and nights. When we arrived, he had
been in New York for only two days.

There, Swamiji introduced us to the small New

York group of devotees, as “his artists from San
Francisco temple.” We were immediately
welcomed as part of the New York devotee
family, sharing prasadam with such wonderful
devotees as Brahmananda, Gargamuni,
Rupanuga, Rayarama, Achyutananda,
Satsvarupa, Jadurany and others.
We were given work space in “Swamiji’s art
studio”, which consisted of the tiny living room
in his upstairs apartment. There, just after
Swamiji’s morning class breakfast prasad, we
spent our days. At night, after his evening class,
we slept on the floor of the 26 Second Avenue
temple. We later stayed at Satsvarupa and
Rayrama’s apartment, until we found a tiny
place of our own.
We often found ourselves in Swamiji’s
apartment late into the evening, clustered
around him like a family, listening to his
wonderful talks about Krishna. We were truly
just like a transcendental family, and he was
our beloved spiritual father. There was only an
atmosphere of spiritual love. There was, at this
time, no money, no power, no politics, so no
positions to defend, and no conflict amongst
us. It was a special time when Swamiji was the
center of our world, and we all joyfully served
him as brothers and sisters.
Throughout the day, Swamiji would walk in and
out of his tiny living room cum art studio. His
small apartment had a tiny kitchen, a
bathroom, and two rooms, with a window
between them. Swamiji would work and sleep
in one room, and the other room, the living
room, was the art studio. There, Jadurany sat
painting in one corner. Goursundar and I sat on
the floor painting in another corner. The
atmosphere was delightful and intimate, as
Swamiji would watch our work and often give
encouragement and guidance. He seemed to
enjoy walking in and out of the art studio, many
times a day, looking at our work, and giving
directives.
Our first assignment in New York was to paint a
whole series of pictures to illustrate the story of
PrahladMaharaj. Swamiji wanted this series to
be used as a children’s slide show, in order to
educate them about Krishna consciousness. So
the drawings were designed with children in
mind. Since these paintings were to attract
young children, he wanted them to be simple
and colorful.
**Indeed, this Prahlad series was later used in
slide show presentations in London and other
places, and also printed into a soft-bound
children’s picture book called “Prahlad.”
It so happened that at that time, Swamiji was
daily translating the part of SrimadBhagavatam
that described the pastimes of PrahladMaharaj
and Lord Nrsinghadev. So he was constantly
absorbed in the mood of Nrsingha Lila.

Since that canto was not yet available, we did

not even know the story of PrahladMaharaj!
However, he was speaking daily in his morning
class on this pastime, and he gave us more and
more description as we worked. Swamiji
guided us every step of the way.

In fact, Swamiji often posed for us to help

describe the events in the story! On one
occasion, he posed for the demon
Hiranyakasipu, standing on his tippy toes with
his arms held high, in the middle of our little art
studio--but only for a minute. This was to
illustrate Hiranyakasipu’s yogic penance. On
another occasion, he wrapped himself in a long
white cloth, like a dhoti, and posed as Krishna,
in a “three-fold bending posture.” This was so
that Jadurany and I could see Krishna's special
posture, and sketch the way the folds fell in the
type of dhoti Krishna wears. There were many
such instances.
Surprisingly, on numerous occasions, (nearly
every day) Swamiji would pose for Lord
Nrisinghadev! He seemed to love to
demonstrate Lord Nrisinghadev’s leap from the
pillar! In fact, he seemed to delight in doing
this! He would raise his hands like claws, his
eyes would get big and show the white on top,
and he would roar like a lion--showing us how
Lord Nrsinghadev should look while attacking
Hiranyakasipu! He would perform this pastime
daily--often more than once. I later realized
that he was simply absorbed in Nrisingha Lila,
translating SrimadBhagavatam each morning,
and speaking about PrahladMaharaj in class
every day. This was indeed his lila absorption
at that time, and it was spiritually delightful, as
well as instructive.
On one occasion, Swamiji told me to paint
Prahlad being tortured by demons. He said
they should have horns and pitchforks and
knives and look very mean and ugly. Truly, I
had no idea what such demons should look
like! So I researched ugly monsters in comic
books. Then I made composites of them, giving
them ugly faces, long claws, horns, and
pitchforks. I then presented the sketches to
Swamiji.
He studied the sketches carefully, then said,
“Yes, this is good. These are good demons.
Even now, there are many such demons in dark
jungles of Africa and other places, even in the
snowy places like the Himalayas.”

Swamiji said this in such a matter-of-fact

manner, and with such certainty, that I was
taken aback. After all, I had never heard of
such things in my so-called well-rounded
college education! Horned demons with
pitchforks?

Surprised, I gasped, “Oh! I didn’t know that!”

Calmly, almost dead-pan, Swamiji looked at me

with serious compassion and said, “There are
many things you do not know.”
He said this with such wisdom and compassion,
that for a moment, I realized I was standing at
the threshold of real knowledge, and that all
true knowledge would be coming from him.

Those early days in “Swamiji’s art studio” were

surely some of the best days of my life. I can
look back and they still seem more real and
alive than many of the other events that have
been a part of my life later on.

Those wonderful art studio days lasted from

March to May, and then tragedy struck.
Swamiji had a stroke, a near fatal stroke. It had
to be the worst day of our lives. Jadurany and I
hung by the window that separated his
bedroom/workroom from the living room art
studio. Tears streamed down our cheeks as we
watched Brahmananda and Satsvarupa sit
Swamiji up, and open his Bhagavatam at his
request. Trembling and breathless, Swamiji
read from the SrimadBhagavatam. Even if it
were his time of death, he was determined to
give every breath for glorification of Lord
Krishna! And he was determined to teach us
everything he could, in whatever short time he
had. I witnessed his incredible compassion and
loving concern for us, his spiritual children.

Swamiji instructed us to pray to Lord

Nrisinghadev for protection and to ask that he
be allowed to remain with us in this world. He
had so much more to teach us! Even when he
went to the hospital, we continued to chant the
Nrisinghdev prayers; we were praying fervently
for his recovery.

We took turns going to the hospital to see him,

to bring him foods, to massage his lotus feet,
and to shower our love and express our desire
for his speedy recovery. It was an intense time.
We all loved him so much that he was in the
center of our minds, our hearts, and our
conversation day and night. In such a short
time, he had become like our beloved father.
We all felt we could not live without him.

After only a week or so, Swamiji left the

hospital. Rayarama and Brahmananda
arranged a house for him at the New Jersey
seashore. Goursundar and I were selected to
go there and stay with him, and care for him,
along with Kirtanananda. Ostensibly, it was
because we were artists, the only married
couple, and we could be spared from the busy
schedule of work and temple duties. Several of
the devotees had day jobs, and others were
needed for cooking and maintaining the temple
programs. But I knew there was a deeper
reason.

That fateful night of Swamiji’s stroke, with my

face pressed against the window weeping, I had
some deep realizations. As if guided by Lord
Krishna within my heart, I understood that he
would not be with us long, and that what he
was doing was the most important thing in the
universe. So I made a vow. It was a secret
vow; I told no one of this, not even my
husband. But Lord Krishna in my heart
witnessed my vow.

I vowed that as long as he was here in this

world, I would do whatever I could to help him,
to make him comfortable, and to make his
mission the absolute center of my life.
Whatever that meant--scrubbing floors,
cleaning his refrigerator, preparing his
medicines, cooking, cleaning, typing letters,
transcribing his books, or painting pictures for
him. It was a simple vow of absolute love and
surrender, with nothing held back. And it was
coming from the heart of a simple young girl.
But it was sincere, straight from the heart. I was
determined to make his life as easy as possible
so that he could do his all important work for
Lord Krishna, and for humanity.
still believe it was for this reason that I was
taken by Rayarama to the New Jersey seashore,
to the beach rental, in order to clean it
thoroughly and prepare it for Swamiji’s arrival.
That became my focus, my service, and my life.
I was dedicated to making him comfortable and
well cared for.

So when Swamiji arrived, the apartment was

spotless, and fragrant with many vases of fresh
picked roses. Daily, I picked bagfuls of sweet
smelling roses, and he often said, “Flowers are
Krishna’s smiling!” Swamiji would hold a rose in
his hand, and breathe in its fragrance, and say it
took away his headaches. He was especially
fond of yellow roses, and would often say, “I
think this yellow rose is the most fragrant!”
During those three wonderful weeks in Long
Branch, New Jersey, I did only one small
painting. It was of Lord Chaitanya traveling
with Lord Nityananda. It was a copy of a
picture from India. At first, Swamiji encouraged
us to copy Brijbasi prints and other Indian
works, while he gradually guided us into this
new style of art. This was much like my art
teachers in college had done. Until we
developed a style to his liking, he wanted us to
study the devotional artwork of India. He was
not so favorably inclined toward the artwork of
Europe.
Perhaps because I had also studied the works of
the Medieval and Renaissance masters while in
Europe, I understood the importance of having
devotional mood imbibed into paintings. The
religious paintings of old masters in Florence,
Venice, Rome, Paris, and elsewhere were often
filled with “bhava,” devotional spirit, and I had
first hand experience of this. Many of these
works evoked spiritual feelings in the minds
and hearts of their viewers. The old masters
usually had apprentices who did their bidding,
laying in backgrounds and blocks of color, but
the paintings were usually designed and
completed by the masters’ own hands. And the
paintings, usually of a religious nature, were a
reflection of the masters’ own mood of
devotion.
The mood of devotion that Swamiji wanted
reflected to the world was indeed his mood of
devotion. We were simply apprentices, much
as the old masters had apprentices who
painted while the masters guided their hands.
The old masters would design the
compositions, and instruct their apprentices,
even in the finest details. But, in the end, they
would strive to imbibe their own devotional
spirit into the work.

Swamiji went even further than this--because

he could. Swamiji actually implanted his
devotional mood into those early paintings, via
his apprentices! This is why, on later seeing
changes to his books, he said, “Why have you
removed those early paintings? They were full
of bhakti!” They were full of his devotion!
Swamiji guided our hands as well as our hearts.
His mystic potencies enabled him to do that.
The old masters could guide the hands of their
apprentices; Swamiji could guide our hands,
our minds, and our hearts so as to get the
desired result. We were his apprentices in
every way, through and through.

Soon after our brief stay at the Jersey seashore,

Swamiji left for India to recover his health. He
went to Vrindaban, to “get well or to leave this
world.” We anguished with the fear that he
would never return, so we prayed constantly
that he would quickly get well, and come back
to us.
Goursundar and I went to the Montreal temple
for the months that Swamiji was away in India.
Having been trained by him for several months,
we continued to do line drawings for his Back
to Godhead magazine. We designed covers,
did illustrations, and tried to make the
magazine more attractive, though we were
limited to black and white due to printing costs.
It was at that time, feeling great separation
from Swamiji, that I designed a drawing of
Krishna returning home from the forest with
thousands of cows. It was indeed a special
drawing, for though I had never seen
Vrindaban, or even photographs of it, just from
Swamiji’s many descriptions of Vrindaban, I was
able to create a picture that did indeed look
very much like Krishna’s Vrindaban.
While doing this drawing, I was seeing cows
and cowlads in my minds’ eye for weeks! I
selected one particular cowlad to be Swamiji,
and sent him a copy of the picture, denoting
that the cowlad on the far right of Krishna was
my depiction of him.
Years later, this early drawing of Krishna’s
Vrindaban was artfully colored in by some of
the later BBT artists, and is still used today in
many of the books and temples. It is a painting
that is full of bhava. That is because it is
Swamiji’s drawing--not mine. It is full of his
devotion. Remember, I had never even seen
Vrindaban. But he was able to convey it to me
so perfectly that the mood of Vrindaban is
indeed present in that picture!
And he was also able to guide me from within
my mind and heart just how he wanted it done.
This is the deeper, more spiritual,
understanding of transcendental art. It doesn’t
come from us; as artists, we have to open
ourselves so that SrilaPrabhupada’s devotion
comes through us. This mood requires
surrender of the arrogant and rebellious
attitude that “I am the doer.” Or “I am the
artist.”

Art, like music, can come from the heart, or it

can come from the lesser planes of
consciousness, such as the mind or false ego.
True transcendental art comes from the heart,
and is infused with devotion, and that devotion
can be felt even by the casual viewer.
SrilaPrabhupada would often say that our
paintings were “windows to the spiritual
world.” And he alone amongst us knew what
the spiritual world must look like!

Music, especially kirtan, can come from the

heart and fill the soul with love of God.
SrilaPrabhupada’s singing, so full of bhakti,
strikes the chords in our heart, and feeds our
souls. Such is the power of transcendental
music, with the pure soul’s chanting of the Holy
Names.

Sometimes, we hear good kirtaniyas singing,

but because there is more concern with musical
expertise and delivery than with connection to
God, the sounds become material and do not
have the same effect. We all know instances of
this, when the kirtan leader is more self-
absorbed, more concerned with the thought of
“sounding good,” and is thus more self-
conscious than Krishna conscious.

Art is like that too. If the artist is trapped

within the mental plane, and is thus more
concerned with fame and false ego, than
serving God and Guru, then the work loses its
transcendental quality. And it fails to touch the
heart of the viewer. It becomes material, and
though it may have some spiritual subject
matter, it does not carry the scent of bhakti.

We have all had ecstatic kirtan experiences

when the kirtaniyas leave their ego at the door,
allowing the magic of kirtan to spontaneously
unfold. And we have all experienced kirtans
that did not stir our hearts. Art is like that as
well, and transcendental art, following the
guidelines laid down by the Acharya, will have
the desired effect. It will stir the emotion of
the soul.

When an artist thinks, “Oh, I am an artist, this is

my creation!” that is one level of
consciousness. It may have its place in life, for
worldly subject matter, for entertainment, for
the fulfillment of personal ambitions, and ego
gratification. But this consciousness is not
useful in the creation of transcendental art. All
this can be understood from the direct
teachings of SrilaPrabhupada to his artists, his
apprentices, especially those who spent much
time with him in his little art studio.
Swamiji returned from India on December 14,
1967. Goursundar and I traveled from
Montreal to San Francisco, and were there to
greet him at the airport. From that day, until
January of 1969, over a year later, we were
with him every day. Goursundar gave him
massages, and worked on the translation of
ChaitanyaCharitamrita, and I did the cooking,
the cleaning, taking dictation, and typing his
letters, transcribing his tapes of Nectar of
Devotion and ChaitanyaCharitamrita, as well as
packing his trunk for travel. I simply wanted to
assist him and make sure he was comfortable in
every way possible. So I did whatever I could
think of--even making little hats for him to keep
his head warm in the early morning hours while
he worked, translating his glorious books in the
presence of the Lord.
During that year of traveling and serving
Swamiji, who came to be known as
“SrilaPrabhupada” in May of 1968, there was
little time for artwork. While with him,
however, I did at least do the cover for his
Bhagavad Gita As It Is, and the several
illustrations for Teachings of Lord Chaitanya.
These drawings were directed by him quite
specifically. He would often stand behind me
and look over my shoulder as I worked.

First he would describe how the picture should

look, and give an example, sometimes even a
sketch, of the composition. I would take notes
on his instructions, then I would make drawings
and show them to him, and after that, he
would make corrections and advise me on
improvements, and then at last he would give
his final stamp of approval. Then, while I was
working, he would often come to see how the
picture was developing. This was the common
practice.

In this manner, during that same year of 1968,

SrilaPrabhupada guided me every step of the
way in producing the line drawings for
Teachings of Lord Chaitanya. He described the
compositions, decided which figures would be
present and what they would be doing in each
drawing, and what backgrounds should be
shown.
For example, the picture of the angry Kazi who
comes to find RupaGoswami staying home from
work to recite SrimadBhagavatam, along with
Brahmins, was described by him exactly.
“Make the room very opulent, as they were
receiving large salaries in the employ of the
Muslim government,” is an example of one
directive. “The kazi should appear very angry;
he depended upon them to run his
government, and they did not come for their
work.” This is another example.

Another one that I recall is, “Both the brothers

fell flat before Lord Chaitanya, like a rod.”
Another example, “Lord Chaitanya sat down at
the door, by the shoe-keeping place, showing
his humility and simplicity before the
congregation of Mayavadsanyasins.” There are
many such directives, and I took careful notes
on most of them.

Most significantly, Swamiji’s guidance was

essential for the picture of Lord Chaitanya
fainting in the temple of Lord Jagannatha. No
Westerner has been allowed in this temple, and
I had never even been to India! Our only
information was coming directly from
SrilaPrabhupada. He described that the temple
was dark inside, except for the ghee lamps on
the altar, and the priests were sitting atop the
tall platform, where the Deities of Lord
Jagannatha, Lord Baladeva, and Lady Subhadra
also sat. This particular drawing was done
slowly and carefully with many consultations
with SrilaPrabhupada--who was, after all,
staying in the next room. So it was quite easy
to consult with him on every detail!

During that same year of travel with

SrilaPrabhupada, 1968, I also did the line
drawing for the cover of the first MacMillan
Bhagavad Gita As It Is. This original Bhagavad
Gita cover was to be a drawing of the Universal
Form. It was a large line drawing, perhaps 18”
x 24.” Because there was to be so much detail,
I had to work large, so that it could be later
reduced and still have clean lines. The drawing
was to depict the thousands of heads and arms
and hands of the Lord, with the four-armed
figure of Lord Vishnu prominently featured in
the center.
My drawing was completed and approved by
SrilaPrabhupada, but, unfortunately, MacMillan
chose to edit my drawing down to a single
Vishnu form. They chose to remove thousands
of heads and arms from my drawing, as well as
to remove thousands of pages from
SrilaPrabhupada’s Gita. The result was the
small lavender paperback Bhagavad Gita As It
Is, printed in 1969.
In 1969, though SrilaPrabhupada’s manuscript
for Bhagavad Gita As It Is had already been
completed and had been given his final stamp
of approval at that time, and even personally
handed over to MacMillan for printing-- for
financial reasons MacMillan chose to edit it
severely, removing hundreds of pages of text.
Since finances were limited, SrilaPrabhupada
accepted this severely chopped manuscript,
saying “A blind uncle is better than no uncle,” a
Bengali proverb that means, “something is
better than nothing.” SrilaPrabhupada often
quoted this proverb when he accepted
something that was less desirable.

But SrilaPrabhupada was not at all satisfied

with this severely edited Bhagavad Gita. He
wanted his full manuscript printed. MacMillan
complained of repetition in the text, which
meant more cost; SrilaPrabhupada’s argument
was that repetition was necessary for teaching
his students, and the world, this philosophy of
Krishna consciousness. He was not very happy
with their cutting edits, as he had completed
his Gita as he wanted it printed in 1969, and did
not want it changed.

So as soon as he was financially able to do so,

he printed his complete and approved edition
of Bhagavad Gita As It Is in 1972, along with his
forward dated May of 1971. For
SrilaPrabhupada, this was the crown jewel of
success.
And this was indeed the beginning of mass
book distribution. People were attracted to the
mystical message of the Gita, with
SrilaPrabhupada’s colorful painting on the front
cover, a painting of Lord Krishna, carrying his
mystic conch, Panchajanya, into battle, and
driving the chariot of Arjuna. This painting was
designed by SrilaPrabhupada, and executed by
his apprentices, Jadurany and Baradvaj. This
new unabridged and completely approved
Bhagavad Gita As It Is was a great landmark in
his preaching success!

SrilaPrabhupada was very happy with it. He

proudly showed it to guests whenever he could,
and was often seen sitting in his room, reading
it. He would comment with amazement,
“Krishna has written these books! I have not
written. Krishna Himself has dictated!”

During that year of travel with His Divine Grace,

the year 1968, there were other incidents of
artistic instructions as well. Even though I was
not doing much artwork, as my time was filled
with caring for SrilaPrabhupada and typing his
correspondence and transcription work,
Jadurany continued to paint and would ask
questions whenever possible. She wrote many
letters to SrilaPrabhupada, and since I daily
took dictation of his replies, I became more and
more conversant with what he expected of his
artists.

On one occasion, when SrilaPrabhupada and

Goursundar and I arrived in San Francisco,
there was a new painting of Narada Muni
hanging on the temple wall. I was impressed.
It was one of Jadurany’s latest works.
Jadurany’s technique had improved
immeasurably, and her proportions were also
much better. Her colors were more subtle, so
the painting showed great technical
improvement over her past works. Looking at it
from a purely technical point of view, as a
trained artist, it was indeed much better than
her work in past. So I mentioned it to
SrilaPrabhupada, commenting that “Jadurany
has improved her oil painting technique so
much!”

SrilaPrabhupada glowered and winced. He

said, “I do not very much like this new style
painting!” I was shocked. This painting was
obviously adapted from some Renaissance
work of the old masters; it looked a bit like a
figure from a Renaissance painting, that was
then modified with an orangey saffron dhoti
and a vina placed in Narada Muni’s hand.
Technically, it was good.
“Why?” I exclaimed. “What is it that you don’t
like, that you find so distasteful?” I was truly
concerned.
“Narada Muni is an eternal brahmachary!”
SrilaPrabhupada exclaimed. “She has made him
look like a meat-eater and a woman hunter!” I
was stunned.

Later, SrilaPrabhupada explained this in more

detail. He said, “Cheeks gone down. ‘Galtobra.’
This is the face of a meat eater, and a
womanizer. And a wine drinker!” I noted that
the figure did indeed have a lustful and wanton
look about the face. It was not a face full of
spiritual luster and innocent beauty.

While sitting in front of his desk, taking

dictation for a letter to Jadurany, he explained
further. I asked, “So, how should this be
corrected? What should his face look like?
What needs to be done?”

SrilaPrabhupada pointed to a Brijbasi print

hanging on the wall near his desk. “Like this,”
he said. “These are the faces of milk-drinkers,
rounded and beautiful. They have moon-like
faces!” He explained that Krishna has the
“moon-like” face of a milk-drinker, and so do
His servants like Narada. No “nonsense
muscles,” or “squared jaw,” as is shown in
Western art, especially in Renaissance art.
Renaissance artists, such as Michelangelo, were
famed for their elaborate portrayal of the
musculature of the human body.

Even in art school, I recalled, the female face

was said to be rounded, like an egg, and the
male face was said to be squared off, like a
flower pot. This was indeed what the old
masters taught. But SrilaPrabhupada wanted
all the faces to be round and full. My husband
did not particularly like my drawings of moon-
like round faces; he sometimes teased me,
calling them “balloon faces,” and “balloon
figures.” But this is what SrilaPrabhupada liked,
this is what he wanted, and he clearly did not
like the figures from the Western schools of
art! He wanted us to use for reference the
Indian styles of art, showing the beauty of the
“transcendental form.”

And, it suddenly dawned on me, the people of

that era, the European Renaissance, were
indeed meat-eaters, wine drinkers, and
womanizers! I quickly contacted Jadurany, and
she created her future paintings based on
SrilaPrabhupada’s instructions on this, and his
explanation of “galtobra.”

Perhaps it was safe to assume that we could

draw upon European art for some things, but
not for all. And certainly not for figures or for
faces! Nor for the dark and foreboding colors
often found in the backgrounds of old masters’
paintings. Dark surroundings were not to be a
prominent feature in our transcendental art
style.

Transcendental art, Swamiji explained, was

meant to depict the spiritual world. That
means it has to be bright, shimmering, colorful,
and effulgent. The faces and figures should be
soft and supple, rounded and child-like, full of
innocence and sweetness. The backgrounds
should be bright and full of colorful beauty,
with birds and flowers gracing every part of the
landscape. Since Swamiji had the vision and
experience of the spiritual world, and how it
was to be depicted--and I certainly did not--I
tried to model my artistic style after what he
wanted. That should be the goal of any artist
who is attempting to paint transcendental art.

Another incident took place while we were

staying in Los Angeles. SrilaPrabhupada
wanted Goursundar and I to make Deities of
GourNitai, dancing with upraised arms. To do
this, we first had to perfect a drawing that was
approved by His Divine Grace. Because my
husband Goursundar was more expert with
male figures, this drawing was first done by
him.

Goursundar had studied male body structure,

and had also been a weight trainer, so he knew
the exact muscles that would show in upraised
arms. He carefully drew the upraised arms of
Lord Chaitanya and Lord Nityananda having
some very gentle hint of muscles, both in the
upraised arms and in the upper chest. The
muscles were not very pronounced at all; they
were quite subtle, only hinted at.

But SrilaPrabhupada immediately nixed it. “No!

No muscles showing!” he said. “This is not
transcendental form--this muscles, this is
human form. Human bodies have muscular
forms, but not transcendental bodies. They are
smooth and beautiful.”

SrilaPrabhupada explained that transcendental

form is always smooth and graceful. “Arms like
the trunk of the elephant,” he described.
Muscles and veins should never be shown in
pictures of Krishna or any transcendental
beings.

“This fleshy muscle and vein form is the body of

human beings. Not transcendental beings!”
SrilaPrabhupada taught that we could not
simply take a photo of a human being, and
paint it blue for Krishna, or golden for Lord
Chaitanya!
Rather, he explained, the transcendental form
has long sloping arms, like the elephant’s trunk,
delicate hands, graceful feet, large head, high
forehead, arching brows, waving hair, lotus
eyes, and curved, sweet smiling lips. The
transcendental form does not look at all like the
mundane beauty of human beings.

There are many examples of this in Indian art.

South Indian sculptures show the graceful
beauty of transcendental form, as well as the
classical paintings of the famous Nathadwar
painter, B. G. Sharma. In the Vedas, there are
even examples given, such as “hair like a snake”
(wavy dark hair), “moon-like face” (rounded
sweet face), “lotus-like eyes” (eyes elongated
and lovely like lotus petals), “nose like a parrot”
(graceful aquiline nose that slopes down
slightly--not like the turned up human nose),
“eyebrows like bows” (eyebrows arched and
smooth like the bow and arrow), “lips like the
bimba fruit” (plump, reddish and sweet) “arms
like the trunk of the elephant” (long, slender,
smooth and rounded), “neck like a conch”
(rounded and smooth), “chest like a conch”
(rounded and curved toward the waist), “thighs
like the elephant” (strong smooth thighs), and
so on. Some of these descriptions are actually
described in Vedic texts, such as the
ShilpaShastra, and are designed to guide
transcendental artisans in both painting and
sculpture.

During the time we were with SrilaPrabhupada,

from January of 1967 until March of 1969,
there were numerous other sketches and
illustrations I was told to do. One that comes to
mind is the design of the “certificate” for his
planned Bhakti Shastra program--this was
planned even before his first MacMillan
Bhagavad Gita was printed. SrilaPrabhupada
designed it with small pictures in each corner,
of himself and of Lord Krishna as well. It was
used early on, but not widely distributed. I still
have the original design he gave me. Because
the calligraphy had to be done by hand, it was
too time consuming. However, he did plan this
certificate to be given to all of his disciples, and
all of those who completed his Bhakti Shastra
program. One example is here, given to my
senior Godbrother, Rupanugadasa.

Another small project was a cartoon, which he

entitled, “Child of Kali Yuga.” In this cartoon,
he described that there is a mother, a father,
and a child sitting at the dinner table. The
mother is trying to feed the child milk, but the
child is reaching for his father’s cigarettes and
liquor. This was to be a small cartoon printed
in Back to Godhead, illustrating the degradation
of the Kali Age, but I don’t think it was never
used.
There was another more elaborate cartoon
called the “The Story of Dr. Frog.” This was, of
course, a cartoon series illustrating the famous
story of Dr. Frog, who could not see beyond the
walls of his little well. It was to illustrate the
materialists’ narrow-minded perspective that
prevents them from perceiving the spiritual
realm. This was also to be printed in Back to
Godhead, but I don’t think it ever was. We did,
however, print it in our small newsletter, New
Navadwip News, that we distributed in Hawaii.
I still have the printed copy, as well as the
original artwork of this illustration.
There were other small projects, for example,
designing altars, ratha carts, and so forth, too
numerous to mention. One very noteworthy
project, however, was the illustration of Lord
Vishnu on Garuda. This was one of my
favorites, since I am so fond of Garuda.
SrilaPrabhupada described that we should
show in the painting that when Garuda flaps his
wings, the sound vibration of the Hare Krishna
Mahamantra is “coming out with each flapping
of the wings.”
This picture was done while we were with
SrilaPrabhupada, and Goursundar and I worked
on it jointly. I drew the Great Bird, Garuda, and
the Vishnu figure, and my husband did the
background showing swirling sound vibrations
coming from the wings of Garuda. It was also
to be used in Back to Godhead, along with
SrilaPrabhupada’s elaborate description, but I
don’t think it was ever printed either.
In January of 1969, SrilaPrabhupada sent me to
Hawaii to open temples in the Islands. He
named the Hawaiian Islands “New Navadwip”
after the nine islands of NavadwipDhama. He
joined us soon after, in February and March of
1969, and spent about a month with us in a
seaside house in Kaaawa, on the Eastern shore
of Oahu.
During that time, he enjoyed walking daily to a
nearby beach park, as well as eating fresh
sugarcane from the fields. There were many
more discussions during that initial visit to
Hawaii, not only on transcendental art, but on
his Bhagavad Gita as well. At that time,
SrilaPrabhupada was greatly disheartened by
one disciple’s refusal to translate his Gita into
another language, unless he received money to
do so. This was a great disappointment for
SrilaPrabhupada; it showed a lack of basic
understanding of Krishna consciousness
philosophy.
Sadly, it was also the beginning of a new
philosophy: the philosophy that one can be
paid for doing devotional service. It is an
erroneous concept, SrilaPrabhupada explained:
“Either you get the money or you get the
bhakti. You don’t get both.” Serving the
Spiritual Master is a voluntary thing, and if one
is paid to do it, it simply becomes a job. The
consciousness changes, and from that
perspective, it then becomes self-interested
material consciousness, not Krishna
consciousness.

SrilaPrabhupada wanted everything to be done

exactly as he prescribed, down to the details,
without our taking it upon ourselves to create
something new, or to in any way change things.
This was always his greatest criticism of our
Western culture--that we would take things
cheaply and change them or edit them
according to our limited understanding. Or, as
he would often say, “according to our whims.”
He even once said, about his Western disciples,
“Next, they will be asking me if they can kill
cows to make mridangas!”

Once the Hawaii temples were established, I

began to paint again. I did several large
paintings for our temple walls. One was of Lord
Brahma bowing before Lord Krishna, offering
the prayers of Brahma Samhita. It still hangs in
SrilaPrabhupada’s bedroom in the Honolulu
Temple at Coelho Way. Another was a medium
sized Gour-Nitai painting, which became the
main “Deity” picture on our altar for many
months, prior to the installation of the Sri
SriPanchaTattva Deities.
Soon after, on a visit to see SrilaPrabhupada in
Los Angeles, he asked me to make GourNitai
Deities for our Hawaii temple. He raised his
arms to show me how to pose Them, and even
selected the exact color of paint on a Sherwin
Williams paint brochure! (he indicated the
goldenrod color with a check mark; I still have
that same paint brochure to this day.)

Truthfully, I had no idea how to go about this

work, as I was more of an illustrator than a
sculptor, but SrilaPrabhupada said confidently,
“Krishna will guide you from within your heart
how to do it.” Gradually, I came to understand
that SrilaPrabhupada was also guiding me
within my heart as well--since I don’t really
know Krishna, but I do know SrilaPrabhupada!

This is the essence of the truth;

SrilaPrabhupada was able to guide us from
within our minds and hearts from wherever he
was. He didn’t have to be in the same room to
do so. He would guide, we would present, and
he would correct. This was true in all spheres--
painting, drawing, sculpting, cooking, editing,
and preaching. In a most amazing way,
SrilaPrabhupada was micro-managing his entire
movement on every level! All we had to do
was cooperate, and resist the temptation to
change, modify, or correct whatever he was
doing. We simply accepted that his vision was
unlimited, and ours finite.
So, given this new project, I returned to Hawaii,
and my husband Goursundar immediately
constructed the metal armature for the Deities.
This sculpture project took several months, but
with the help of several of our wonderful
Hawaii devotees, especially my dear sister and
friend, Kushadevi, it was finally complete. We
took photos of the finished Deity of Lord
Chaitanya, and sent them to SrilaPrabhupada.
He received the photos of our Deity, and wrote
back that he was indeed quite pleased.
However, he also added that he would like us
to now make deities of Sri Advaita, Sri
Gadadhar, and Srinivas, as well, thus creating
the PanchaTattva Deities for Hawaii. This was
the first instruction for the worship of
PanchaTattva ever given by him!

So we went back to the drawing board and

made PanchaTattva. Fortunately, by now, a
very gifted sculptor, a grad student at the
University of Hawaii, had joined us. Initiated as
Vrishni das, he was a great help in making the
molds and casting the forms of Sri
PanchaTattva. This was another gift from
SrilaPrabhupada, helping us in our service.
At long last, nearly a year later, when the
PanchaTattva deities were finally completed,
SrilaPrabhupada came to Hawaii to install
Them. That was in May of 1972.

SrilaPrabhupada spent over a month with us at

the beautiful seashore at Waimanalo, Oahu,
enjoying daily walks on the beach. Goursundar
and I stayed in the servants’ quarters, next to
the main beach house, where Shyamsundar,
Pradyumna, and Nanda Kumar served
SrilaPrabhupada for that month in Hawaii. It
was a wonderful month of festivals!
After the PanchaTattva Deities were installed, I
placed my painting of GourNitai on
SrilaPrabhupada’s makeshift altar in the living
room at the beach house. This painting had
been the “Deity” picture on our Honolulu
temple altar for many months.
SrilaPrabhupada sat before it each day,
chanting his rounds in his rocking chair, or
walking back and forth in front of it. He liked
the painting very much. At the end of the
month, he asked me for this painting
“Govindasi, what plans you have got for this
painting of GourNitai?” he asked. “Now you
have got your PanchaTatttva Deities installed.”

“Oh, SrilaPrabhupada, I have no plans. Would

you like to have it?”

“Yes,” he replied, “I will take it with me to my

rooms in Los Angeles.” And he did.

This painting of GourNitai still hangs in his

bedroom in Los Angeles. He loved it very
much, as it was rendered in exactly the style he
liked, and imbibed with his own mood of
devotion. This is the esoteric meaning of
transcendental art.
Around that same time I also painted a huge
painting of the PanchaTattva, perhaps 4 foot by
5 foot. It hung in our temple room in the
1970’s; now it hangs in SrilaPrabhupada’s room
in our Honolulu temple.
While creating that work, each evening as I
painted, I did so with the mood that Krishna
was working through my hands. Before
painting, I would meditate on Krishna, and on
SrilaPrabhupada, and ask that Krishna’s beauty
should flow through my hands and onto the
canvas. I would gaze at my hands and see that
they were tools only; tools to be used in His
service. I always did this before beginning
every art work, and still do this even now.

But I had a special desire while painting that

large PanchaTattva picture. I desired that this
painting of Lord Chaitanya and His Associates
would be so spiritually beautiful, and so full of
bhava, that SrilaPrabhupada would be
extremely pleased, so much so that he would
even place his head at Lord Chaitanya’s Lotus
Feet. I had never desired anything like this
before, and I never told anyone of this inner
desire.
Many years later, this desire was fulfilled. It
was in the late 1970’s. I was in
SrilaPrabhupada’s upstairs room at the Coelho
Way temple in Honolulu. He was getting ready
to leave for the airport. He was leaving Hawaii
for some other preaching destination. The big
PanchaTattva painting was always hanging
opposite his desk, so he could gaze at it while
he worked. So he had to pass by it on the way
to the door. Just when he came to the big
painting, he paused, looked up at the merciful
figures of Sri PanchaTattva, then gracefully bent
down to touch his head to Lord Chaitanya’s
Lotus Feet. I was astounded. I did not say
anything, but I remembered my desire. And
now, my desire had been fulfilled.
And I knew he also knew that was my inner
desire. He once wrote me a letter from India,
saying, “I know your mind.” He knew
everything within my mind and heart, and this
was further proof of it. For example, he even
knew that I loved the name “Govinda.” I had
uttered it repeatedly while reading Herman
Hesse’s book, Siddhartha, years before I met
him, while still in college. So he named me
“Govindadasi” even though my first name
started with a “B”, for Bonnie. In that moment,
I was reassured that he not only knew my heart
then, but for eternity as well. And I am grateful
to have been so fortunate to have come in
contact with such a great spiritual personality
as SrilaPrabhupada. Surely, there is no greater
fortune in all the three worlds!
SrilaPrabhupada’s letter to Jadurany, Sept 4,
1972, “If you think of me and work for me, then
I am in your heart. If you love somebody he is in
your heart. It is common thing, everyone
understands it.”

SrilaPrabhupada once explained to me that the

Vaishnava Acharya is always in touch with his
disciples. Because Krishna is in the heart of
each and everyone, and the Acharya is always
in direct contact with Lord Krishna, in this way,
the Acharya is omniscient and omnipresent.
Thus he is always able to be in contact with his
disciples. Krishna enables him to see into their
lives and to guide them as he sees fit.
SrilaPrabhupada assured me that this
relationship between master and disciple is
personal, and eternal, and that he, personally,
will always be my Spiritual Master. I
understood this philosophically, but this
experience was added proof of this
transcendental truth. And I bowed in gratitude.

Sometime in the mid-70’s, I did another series

of paintings for what was to become the story
of Dhruva Maharaj. This was a series of
approximately 25 small paintings illustrating
the SrimadBhagavatam story of Prince Dhruva,
designed for children. This was also done
under the guidance of SrilaPrabhupada. He
looked at each one of my illustrations and gave
his stamp of approval, and told the BBT to print
this as a childrens’ book. However, it was never
printed, as the project somehow got lost in the
political upheaval after SrilaPrabhupada’s
departure from this world.
Because these were color illustrations, and the
cost of printing color far exceeds that of
printing black and white, I was never able to get
this book into print. It still remains
unpublished, after all these years, and in spite
of the fact that it was SrilaPrabhupada’s direct
order that it be printed. It seems that at that
time, ISKCON and the BBT had not yet realized
the great importance of children’s books, and
so they were relegated to a position of less
importance. However, it is important to note
that SrilaPrabhupada himself, as early as 1967,
started me on my first children’s book, in the
form of the Prahlad illustrations. He could
foresee the great importance of giving spiritual
education to young devotees in the form of
children’s books.

Since coloring books are much less costly to

print, I later shouldered the expense myself
and printed five coloring books: Gopal, Krsna,
Nimai, Jagannatha, and Damodara. These
books were printed by me, and I maintain the
copyright, but Prabhupada’s original BBT (not
the later company, BBTI) sold and distributed
them widely in the 1980’s. They are still
available from such mail order companies as
Krishna Culture, and others.

My first coloring book, Gopal, was very well

received by SrilaPrabhupada. I traveled to Los
Angeles to show him each of the illustrations
before taking it to press. He was delighted. He
laughed and pointed to several of the drawings,
even showing child-like joy, especially when he
saw the picture of Krishna with the butterfly.
That drawing seemed to be his favorite. The
expression of love in Krishna’s eyes, and the
feeling of bhakti in the mood of the
illustrations, was of primary importance to him.
He wanted Krishna to be portrayed as very
beautiful, very graceful, and very loving. He
stressed these things far above technique. The
“mood of bhakti” must shine through;
otherwise, even it is technically excellent, it is a
mundane picture that will not ignite the spark
of the soul. That was the first consideration.

Later, I did more coloring books, Krsna, Nimai,

Jagannatha, and Damodara. Certain devotees
were a great help to me in this project. I am
certainly indebted to IndraPramadPrabhu, my
“graphic arts guru” who was kind enough to
take time to skillfully guide me in the technical
skills and tools of production.

IndraPramadPrabhu also designed the book

covers for many of SrilaPrabhupada’s books,
and even won awards for his design expertise.
SrilaPrabhupada was extremely pleased with
his work, and never wanted that any of his
book covers be changed--even if they were
translated into other languages. He repeatedly
gave this instruction. His perspective on this
was that people would come to recognize his
books by their covers, even in their native
language. He wanted the covers, as well as the
artwork within, to be like “trademarks” just like
there are trademarks for big corporations, or
for governments, or for publishing firms--
trademarks that never change. In this way,
SrilaPrabhupada often said, his books could be
immediately distinguished from those of the
Mayavadis.

Some years later, in 1988, long after

SrilaPrabhupada’s departure from this world, I
did an original painting of SrimatiVrinda Devi.
At the time, I was in Vrindavan, and had the
great good fortune of caring for a dying saint
who was known as the “VrindaKunda Baba.”
His real name was MadhavaMaharaj, but due
to his dedication to VrindaKund, and his
ongoing project at that holy place, he was
nicknamed “VrindaKund Baba” by the other
sadhus, babas, and goswami families in
Vrindaban.
Along with DeenabandhuPrabhu and Vidyadevi,
and several other fortunate devotees, we cared
for the aged saint for several months. In the
course of that time, he became unable to walk
and do darshan of his beloved Vrinda Devi. So
under his guidance and direction, I did a
painting of Vrinda Devi. This work was
specifically designed and guided by Baba, a
great devotee of Vrinda Maharani.
The painting gave him great joy. Each day I
would hold it above his bed, as he was then
bedridden, and he would chant his beautiful
Sanskrit mantras to the picture form of his
beloved Deity Vrinda Devi. Then, with tears in
his eyes, he would begin to exclaim, “ Oh, you
have made exactly Vrinda Devi, She is exactly
looking like this, thank you, thank you..”
Needless to say, seeing Baba’s spiritual joy was
a great inspiration to all of us.

VrindaKunda Baba passed from this world in

March of 1989, and donated his VrindaKund
project to ISKCON. Now, every year, thousands
of devotees benefit by going to Vrinda Devi’s
temple for darshan. The painting of Vrinda
Devi that he so loved, appeared on the cover of
Back to Godhead magazine in 1993, along with
the story of his departure from this world at
SrilaPrabhupada’s Krishna BalaramMandir in
Vrindaban.
From the perspective of transcendental art, this
painting of Vrinda Devi achieved the desired
result--that is, it invoked the mood of devotion.
That is the purpose of transcendental art. This
secret was known by some of the European
masters, and it showed in their efforts to
Christianize Europe.

This secret was certainly known by

SrilaPrabhupada. He considered our
transcendental paintings to “windows to the
spiritual world” as well as the “transcendental
trademarks” of the Hare Krishna movement.
He never wanted them altered or changed.
He ordered that they never be removed from
his books. He wanted his book cover art to
remain unchanged, even if the book was
translated into other languages. He complained
if changes were made to his books, requesting
that any pictures taken out should be put back
in. SrilaPrabhupada never wanted them altered
or changed. He taught us Vedic philosophy, but
he taught us transcendental artistry as well.

Art was, in his opinion, a very very important

part of his preaching work, and certainly a very
important part of his books. He placed great
importance on the paintings he directed, as
well as on the sculpture project, called the “doll
making project,” headed by BharadvajaPrabhu.
SrilaPrabhupada knew that Krishna
consciousness would only be successful if it was
a cultural conquest, with art, music, drama, and
sculpture leading the way. It was never
intended by him to be converted into an
institutionalized religion. His own spiritual
master,
SrilaBhaktisiddhantaSaraswatiPrabhupada,
used to say, “if the Krishna consciousness
becomes institutionalized, the essence will be
lost.” Sadly, many of these artistic projects
were lost, along with the essential direction of
his movement, in the political scuffles after his
departure in 1977.

Devotees like Jadurany Devi, Bharadvaja Das,

Parikshit das, Pushkar das, Murlidhar das, and
so many others who worked directly under the
fastidious guidance of SrilaPrabhupada can also
provide a wealth of information about the
transcendental art taught by him. It is my desire
and intention to make every effort to preserve
what SrilaPrabhupada has given to humanity.
This is truly the greatest responsibility of all of
us who are SrilaPrabhupada’s disciples, and
who have worked directly under his guidance.

Now, in 2014, so much has already been lost. I

worry what it will look like 50 or 100 years from
now--or more. SrilaPrabhupada’s books that
were printed and spoken from by him during
his lifetime have already been drastically
edited, and re-edited, time and again, after his
departure from this world. Paintings that he
designed have been removed from them as
well. And since this precedent of change has
been set, it is likely they will be edited again
and again in the future, after we are gone. This
has happened even though most of us,
SrilaPrabhupada’s disciples, know that he gave
us numerous warnings not to change anything
in his books--not the paintings, not the covers,
and certainly not the texts!

Yet, in spite of so many warnings, massive

desultory editing has been done repeatedly,
removing and adding whole swaths of text, as
well as removing original pictures and adding
“improved paintings.” The BBTI (the
posthumously formed corporation that took
over SrilaPrabhupada’s BBT) gives elaborate
explanations that seem to cloud the entire
issue. At present, there are at least six versions
of his Bhagavad Gita As It Is, all edited and
printed several years after his demise. Yet
none of them bear the customary notations
showing the editors’ names, date of edit, or
number of edition. This chaotic shows the BBTI
as not only unprofessional, but irresponsible as
well.

Nowadays, I cringe when I see paintings of

muscular blue people with small heads, the
modern idea of what Krishna should look like,
now printed in SrilaPrabhupada’s books and
other ISKCON literature. Obviously, these are
attempts to paint Lord Krishna as a “human
being.” SrilaPrabhupada’s words ring in my
ears; I recall his fear that “everything will be
ruined after I am gone,” and people will come
to view Lord Krishna as an ordinary human
being.

Of course, many of these newer paintings show

excellent artistic technique, far superior to my
own, yet they portray Lord Krishna with bulging
muscles, snipped and turned-up Western
noses, wanton expressions on His and
Radharani’s faces, and poses that would never
in a million years be approved of by
SrilaPrabhupada.

I see Krishna Books printed on the same format

as Grimm’s Fairy Tales, with illustrations that
would fit perfectly in a fairy tale book. They
resemble the works of fantasy illustrators. The
artists who are doing these works are
undoubtedly highly skilled and have mastered
excellent use of color and technique. But these
paintings would never have been approved by
SrilaPrabhupada.

Decorating his Krishna Books with pictures

similar to fairy tale illustrations, certainly would
never meet with SrilaPrabhupada’s approval. It
simply gives readers the idea that Krishna Book
is also no more than another fairy tale book.
This message is a dangerous one; it depicts Lord
Krishna as a muscular, bluish veined man, who
kills demons much as any hero in any fairy tale
fable.

Perhaps this article, along with example

illustrations, combined with the statements of
other artists who were personally trained by
SrilaPrabhupada, can somehow help to stave
off this loss of culture and art that has so
besieged our beloved Master’s ISKCON since his
departure in 1977.

May SrilaPrabhupada bless us with the humility

and the integrity to listen to those who actually
knew him, and worked closely with him. And
may his kindness and mercy enable those who
are firmly ensconced in their misconceptions,
and “change disease,” become blessed with
new realizations by the unfathomable mercy of
SrilaPrabhupada.

In a lecture on May 21, 1976, Honolulu,

SrilaPrabhupada stated “sudra means
lamentation- simply changing.”

Sometimes people may be critical of the Indian

Brijbasi style poster art, saying the artwork is
not “realistic enough.” And perhaps it is the
fear of such criticisms that enticed post-
disappearance BBTI editors and publishers to
make changes that SrilaPrabhupada would
never have approved of.
As a teasing criticism, even my husband
Goursundar often called my figures “balloon
faces,” and “balloon people.” But this type of
transcendental form is clearly what
SrilaPrabhupada wanted. Transcendental form
is synonymous with “milk-drinkers faces,”
gently sloping arms and legs, feet sculpted to
perfection, and delicate, aristocratic, even
dainty, hands. There were never to be any
muscles or veins showing; SrilaPrabhupada was
quite clear about this. Muscles and veins are
for human beings, as well as for Rakshasas. But
never for Krishna.

Lord Krishna appeared in the world of human

beings, and at that time, many people even
considered Him to be a human being. But His
transcendental Form should not be confused
with the mundane fleshy, clay-like forms of
human beings. His form was always divine,
transcendental and beyond the material
nature. SrilaPrabhupada wanted that our
paintings of Him should look like that--
transcendental.

If we depict Him looking like a blue-tinged

muscular human being, he will look exactly like
that: a blue-colored human. Then people will
mistake Him for an ordinary man, a mere
human, and the divine teachings could again be
lost in time.

The act of removing SrilaPrabhupada’s original

paintings from Krishna Book, which he himself
said were “full of bhakti” is a sure indication
that there is not a correct understanding of
who he is and what he came to do. He often
said he “came from Krishna Loka to write some
books.” And “Krishna wrote these books,”
“they are actually dictated by Him.” His books,
and his paintings, done by artists under his
direct supervision, are “full of bhakti,” his
bhakti. They cannot be changed or deleted
without his direct permission.

As SrilaPrabhupada’s disciples, it is our great

responsibility to preserve the legacy of
SrilaPrabhupada. Shortly after he left this
world, post-disappearance politics drove many
of SrilaPrabhupada’s disciples out of the
ISKCON he established. Hellish havoc was
wrought upon his ISKCON. Some estimate that
perhaps 90% of SrilaPrabhupada’s disciples
stepped back from his movement shortly
thereafter.

By default, those few that remained became

over-night gurus, leaders, members of his GBC
and even trustees in the BBT, or BBTI. Many of
these leaders had not closely associated with
SrilaPrabhupada, and since they had little
experience, they made mistakes that follow us
to this day. Such inexperienced members took
full control, and began to change things that
SrilaPrabhupada had said should never be
changed--like his book texts and paintings, and
his book covers.

Even the authentic procedures of Deity worship

were changed, rather, reversed.
SrilaPrabhupada taught us to first offer
everything to the Spiritual Master, and through
him, we would offer to Krishna. Now, in many
modern ISKCON temples, the process is exactly
reversed. Devotees are taught to offer first to
Lord Krishna, and then to SrilaPrabhupada and
the disciplic succession. This is a backwards
understanding of the bhakti path
SrilaPrabhupada taught.

His Bhagavad Gita As It Is, the crown jewel of

his writing work, as well as others of his books,
have been posthumously edited, without even
informing prospective readers of this. There
are no names and dates to distinguish the
posthumously edited books from the original
ones that were read, spoken from, and
approved by SrilaPrabhupada during his time
on earth.
The paintings of all the Acharyas in the disciplic
succession, so carefully directed by
SrilaPrabhupada, and placed in his original
Bhagavad Gita As It Is, printed in 1972, have all
been removed by BBT’s (BBTI’s) inexperienced
editors. In the cover picture of the greatly
modified Bhagavad Gita As It Is, printed some
six years after SrilaPrabhupada left this world,
Krishna carries a horsewhip in his hand, rather
than Sri Panchajanya, His mystic conch. ln
short, after 1977, Maya had her way with
SrilaPrabhupada’s ISKCON.

Our only hope is, like Hansel and Gretel, to

leave some traces of truth along the path, in
hopes that those who come later will correct
things. SrilaPrabhupada’s greatest fear was
that “my books will be changed after my
departure, and everything will be ruined.”

Observing the Judeo-Christian histories, we can

see how this did indeed happen to the
teachings of Jesus Christ. And although the
Biblical texts still bear some resemblance to the
early teachings, and thus continue to inspire
people all over the world, they have lost much
of their philosophical base. They cannot stand
up to the scientific community; the New
Science has created the New Atheism.
According to edited versions, reincarnation
does not exist, animals have no souls, so it is
fine to kill them and eat them. The clergy that
Jesus taught are no longer seen wearing simple
robes and living the life of simplicity. Many
wear costly embroidered silks, expensive
jewelry, grand head dresses, and other such
costumes--none of which Jesus taught in his
time on earth. And of course, there are other
philosophical and societal changes that are too
numerous, or too horrible, to even mention.

Can this happen to SrilaPrabhupada’s

teachings? Can this happen to Lord
Chaitanya’s glorious movement? Yes, it can. It
has already been happening for over 30 years,
moving down a road of change with no sign of
turning back. Our only hope is, as
SrilaPrabhupada often said, “From the children
of your children, pure devotees will be coming
out.” Reinforcements are on the way.
We, as SrilaPrabhupada’s disciples, place our
hope in the future generations, and try to
preserve what we can, in the hope that those
who come later will do better than our
generation has done. SrilaPrabhupada often
said, to paraphrase, “Lord Chaitanya’s
movement will go on, because that is the Lord’s
prediction. If you want to help, that is very
good, good for you and very good for others. If
not, He will send someone else to carry on His
mission on this earth. That is for certain.”

“But if you don’t want to help, then at least,

don’t hinder. Do not create problems,
confusion and try to hinder this movement of
Lord Chaitanya. That will not be good.”
Quoting SrilaBhaktisiddhantaSaraswati Thakur,
the Spiritual Preceptor of our SrilaPrabhupada:

“The idea of an organized church in an

intelligible form, indeed, marks the close of the
living spiritual movement. The great
ecclesiastical establishments are the dikes and
the dams to retain the current that cannot be
held by any such contrivances. They, indeed,
indicate a desire on the part of the masses to
exploit a spiritual movement for their own
purpose. They also unmistakably indicate the
end of the absolute and unconventional
guidance of the bonafide spiritual teacher.”