“Science of Self-Realization” by His Divine Grace A.C. BhaktivedantaSwami Prabhupada.COPYRIGHT NOTICE: This is an evaluation copy of the printed version ofthis book, and is NOT FOR RESALE. This evaluation copy is intended forpersonal non-commercial use only, under the “fair use” guidelinesestablished by international copyright laws. You may use this electronicfile to evaluate the printed version of this book, for your own privateuse, or for short excerpts used in academic works, research, studentpapers, presentations, and the like. You can distribute this evaluationcopy to others over the Internet, so long as you keep this copyrightinformation intact. You may not reproduce more than ten percent (10%) ofthis book in any media without the express written permission from thecopyright holders. Reference any excerpts in the following way:“Excerpted from “Science of Self-Realization” by A.C. BhaktivedantaSwami, courtesy of the Bhaktivedanta Book Trust International,www.Krishna.com .”This book and electronic file is Copyright 1977-2003 Bhaktivedanta BookTrust International, 3764 Watseka Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90034, USA.All rights reserved. For any questions, comments, correspondence, or toevaluate dozens of other books in this collection, visit the website ofthe publishers,www.Krishna.com .
ForewordFrom the very start, I knew that His Divine Grace A. C.Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada was the most extraordinary person I hadever met. The first meeting occurred in the summer of 1966, in New YorkCity. A friend had invited me to hear a lecture by "an old Indian svami"on lower Manhattan's Bowery. Overwhelmed with curiosity about a svamilecturing on skid row, I went there and felt my way up a pitch-blackstaircase. A bell-like, rhythmic sound got louder and clearer as Iclimbed higher. Finally I reached the fourth floor and opened the door,and there he was.About fifty feet away from where I stood, at the other end of along, dark room, he sat on a small dais, his face and saffron robesradiant under a small light. He was elderly, perhaps sixty or so, Ithought, and he sat cross-legged in an erect, stately posture. His headwas shaven, and his powerful face and reddish horn-rimmed glasses gavehim the look of a monk who had spent most of his life absorbed in study.His eyes were closed, and he softly chanted a simple Sanskrit prayerwhile playing a hand drum. The small audience joined in at intervals, incall-and-response fashion. A few played hand cymbals, which accountedfor the bell-like sounds I'd heard. Fascinated, I sat down quietly atthe back, tried to participate in the chanting, and waited.After a few moments the svami began lecturing in English,apparently from a huge Sanskrit volume that lay open before him.Occasionally he would quote from the book, but more often from memory.