About fifty people arrived at the airport with me. The air smelled of incense, and the airport resonated with the sound of cymbals, drums, and chanting. A friend later said, “The feeling at the airport was one of loveliness.” Suddenly, we saw a small figure in saffron glide out of the airplane, a halo of light surrounding him. Swamiji walked down the stairs slowly and deliberately, and then he crossed the tarmac. It seemed to us as if his feet weren’t touching the stairs or ground. His head was raised, and as he walked towards us we were overcome with excitement and ran en masse to the spot where we thought he would enter the terminal. He was relaxed and happy. And when he saw everyone chanting, he gave us a huge smile, and that smile felt like an ocean washing over and protecting me. When Swamiji smiled, that smile became my beacon and shelter.
Mukunda arrived from the car and embraced Swamiji, who hugged him back. The Swami’s demeanor was humble, his mind totally absorbed in Krishna. We didn’t know about bowing down to him then. We followed him out to the car and watched it drive away, then ran to our respective vans, motorcycles, and cars to follow his vehicle in grand procession to the new, makeshift Radha Krishna Temple on Frederick Street. Swamiji viewed our new temple for the first time and smiled upon us. He singled me out with his glance, looking through my grossness into the very core of my soul-self. Then and there I knew I had found my Guru. My search had ended.
