Henry reviews the book Children of a Harsh Bliss

Cover of Rishi Waterman’s book Children of a Harsh Bliss.

Rishi Waterman’s book is a collection of 64 short stories (some quite humorous) roughly in chronological order about his memories of life in New Vrindaban—the primitive Hare Krishna farm commune in the northern panhandle of West Virginia with the motto “Plain Living, High Thinking”—from 1971 until 2001 or so. I knew him personally from his work as editor for the Brijabasi Spirit and New Vrindaban News in the 1980s, and as manager of Prabhupada’s Palace of Gold in the 1990s. At the time he was known as Garga Rishi dasa (or David Waterman). He took the title of his book from the April 1980 issue of Life magazine, which features a photograph of two young New Vrindaban girls on the cover. The article, titled “Children of a Harsh Bliss” told of the magazine writer’s visit to New Vrindaban during the winter of 1979-1980.

Rishi writes about many people I knew at New Vrindaban. (I lived there from 1978-1994). People like Kirtanananda Swami (the Founder/Acharya of New Vrindaban), Kuladri (temple president), Sudhanu (manager of the mold shop known as “The Boss”), Jala (a marble cutter), Krpacharya (who nearly blew his head off but survived), Karusha (who was partially crushed when thousands of pounds of marble fell on him), my godbrother Rantideva (a rather crazy fellow), Ambarish (the head cow herder), Radhanath (called “Baba”), Muchi (a big German shepherd), Madhava Ghosh (a hothead of sorts), Tirtha (a convict at the West Virginia Penitentiary, although not mentioned by name), Amy Hobson (although not mentioned by name), and Sergeant Thomas Westfall, a deputy for the Marshall County Sheriff Department (also not mentioned by name).

I think Rishi also mentions me (or rather he mentions my 10-volume book series Gold, Guns and God: Swami Bhaktipada and the West Virginia Hare Krishnas, but not by name. Rishi writes: “[My book] is on-the-ground reporting, which, strange as it seems after so many years of thirdhand and circumstantial accounts and a few books that unfortunately are WAY off the mark, to be a first.”

Rishi writes about many events which I knew about, or personally remember, and many events which I did not know about, such as the skunk who visited Prabhupada’s Palace every morning for mangal aroti (early morning service) for about a month. Rishi relates how he’d wait at the entrance, and when the first person opened the door, he’d go in and lay down on the marble floor right in front of Prabhupada’s altar while the assembled devotees chanted the prayers and kirtan. After mangal aroti, the skunk would leave and disappear into the forest. After a month, the Palace managers decided it was too risky letting the skunk in; what if he got frightened and sprayed his scent inside the Palace? So one morning, the skunk was prohibited from entering the Palace. At that moment, the skunk laid on his side and died.

Rishi writes about his service of washing the pots in a freezing unheated room, without running water or soap or detergent, using ashes to scrub. He likened it to meditating in a cave in the Himalayas. He writes about the cows, and the time he had to grab a stallion’s erect penis while the stallion was mounting a fertile mare and guide the immense male organ into the vagina of the mare (very dangerous for Rishi) because the stallion, although feisty, had “bad aim” and couldn’t insert it into the right place.

Rishi writes about the lady who stole Prabhupada’s shoes, he writes about the “Shooting Affair” of June 5, 1973 when a distraught father and five biker friends attacked the devotees in the temple, and he also writes about the Interfaith Era at New Vrindaban and the “itchy robes and painful organ music” (which I played on the temple’s Allen organ).

I do not know how accurate his stories are, but I suspect they are pretty much correct, at least from his personal point of view. Other who were there certainly might have other opposing viewpoints. But his stories are quite fascinating to me, and to those interested in New Vrindaban history, and many of his stories are quite entertaining and even funny.

Rishi also writes one chapter about his life after he left New Vrindaban, making money by delivering newspapers in the Wheeling area. He does not, however, explain why he left, after living there 30 years. It seems he lets the readers wonder: did he leave voluntarily, or was he expelled?

The first person to write a review on the book’s Amazon page, William—who I suspect is William Jones/Bimbadhara dasa—claimed, “more endearing than accurate, but who cares? I was with Rishi, in New Vrindaban most of those years. A second edition would be welcome.”

This book will be a treasured item in the library of the discriminating student of Hare Krishna history.

Readers can purchase the book here: Children of a Harsh Bliss