Prabhupada had also said, “are necessary for cleansing the mind.” Prabhupada looked snug and warm in his pink woollen coat as he walked briskly with his entourage. The winding pathways led past a tranquil, ornamental lake where black ducks and fluffy dabchicks splashed and played. Native black swans glided with their cygnets huddled close behind them. Prabhupada stopped, briefly surveying the scene. As usual, he saw everything with a higher vision. “This swan is black, and the crow is black,” he said. “But the crow’s place is different, although they are both birds. The crows will enjoy a filthy place where all refuses are thrown. It is stated in Srimad-Bhagavatam: Na yad vacas citra-padam harer yaso, jagat-pavitram pragrinita karhicit, tad vayasam tirtham The literature that does not describe Krishna, that is the place for crows. Whereas literature about sex was enjoyed by crow-like men, he said, the Bhagavatam was enjoyed by the swans. The first rays of the sun appeared over the horizon, lighting up the square, cream-coloured tower of Government House that peeked out through the trees. The conversation turned to Vedic cosmology. Paramahamsa brought up the example of elephant-eating eagles. As Prabhupada stopped beside a lawn that stretched to the water’s edge, little yellow-beaked birds hopped for cover. Yes. Big, big birds, they carry elephants.
Reference: The Great Transcendental Adventure by Kurma Dasa
