"Don't take sannyasa!" I told him.

"Suppose I have taken sannyāsa, and if I see one gṛhastha having a very faithful and beautiful wife, if I think, 'Oh, I left my wife. If I would have possessed, I would have been happy," he's immediately fallen." SP

From the moment we first met, we became friends, forever. It must have been written in the sky. He was a staunch brahmacari. One day, he told me he was thinking of taking sannyasa, he was getting a lot of encouragement to do so. In those days, gurus drew prestige when Prabhupada's disciples took their danda from them. His sannyasa friends were also pushing him to do that.

The day he confided his dilemma to me, not knowing what the right thing to do (I was married and he frequented us a lot, while the movement was starting to experience difficult times), I told him categorically he should never take that vow. He followed my advice and stayed a brahmacari. 

He was again confused some years after about his situation in the temple, carrying high responsibilities.

He joined when he was 18 years old and had no experience at all of the outside world. He started to be perplexed because he could not put up with the things which were going on in the management, and in particular with the eccentric attitude of the local guru, but also with gurus in general. 

So I helped him financially and told him how he could earn money, which he did with talent, since he was a determined and austere man. His single life, however, couldn't go on like this forever, I thought, although he seemed to be happy. Regularly, I recommended marriage to him, which he rejected out of hand and disdain. 

After a few years, to my surprise, he told me: "I will marry only if I could get a wife like yours." 

He used to live in our home for some time and he traveled with us for months across North America, so he knew my wife very well. He was clever; nowadays "vedic characters" are not easily found and to match his demands for spiritual discipline was next to impossible.*

He finally realized, after a long period of celibacy, that grihasta life was a plausible alternative. I promised him it would be the case if I found him a match. I had someone in my mind, a chaste and beautiful woman, but I knew also that marriage is like the melon, a matter of luck.

To make a long story short, for thirty years now, he is living a happy marriage with that excellent devotee. 

* Right now, in 2023, I am in a discussion on Facebook with devotees regarding sex life and relationships between men and women. What transpires from my exchanges with them is that their preoccupation on this matter has no longer much to do with the ideals of Srila Prabhupada's mission that older devotees nourished. Our conceptions of marriage are now considered to be archaic and detrimental to the mental health of new generations. We have to admit it to their advantage, that the poor result produced by this "transcendentally Vedic" experience could not bring faith into this traditional marriage. 

"The Times They Are A-changin" Bob Dylan

▪︎▪︎▪︎