Srila Prabhupada’s book save a killer
We were on traveling sankirtana in Zenica, Bosnia. There was a slaughterhouse near the house where we stayed, and in the city center were butcher shops under the same name: Zmajevac.
It sounds a bit hellish. We were trying to reach the main director during sankirtana, but without success. However, one morning, by Krishna's mercy, Bhakta Denis and I decided to try again.
That morning we did our best to properly chant the holy names of the Lord.
The agreement was that, if we enter, Denis would pray in his mind, while I did the talking.
We somehow confused the doorman, gave him our ID cards and walked quickly up the stairs.
I was pronouncing aloud: Krsna, Krsna. But in my head resounded “Yamaraja, Yamaraja.”
We knocked and entered the director's office. His office decoration surprised us. It was all in black and red: black chairs, red carpet. The director sat at his desk.
He had short hair, a thick neck and was perhaps in his mid-forties. He was writing something and didn't even bother to look up at us.
Bhakta Denis signaled me to start talking, but I signaled back to him: “As soon as he looks at us.”
I didn't know what to say. The situation seemed tense and heavy. I was confused and disturbed.
Then, after few minutes, the director acknowledged us and asked: “Who are you?”
At that moment I said a completely unprepared sentence: “Sir, if I were in Tuzla, I would know your favourite team: Sloboda.”
After that he started to communicate: “No. Celik.”
Sloboda and Celik are two football teams that have similar red and black jerseys. His whole office was in those colors.
“How did they do last time?” I asked.
“Tied: one, one. Stupid umpire," he replied.
By the mercy of Krsna, our communication continued spontaneously.
After a few minutes, director looked at us with bewilderment and said: “Who are you guys?”
“We have a book promotion,” I said.
I put in his hands a small set: the Bhagavad-gita and small books.
Although still confused, he decided to take them.
Then Bhakta Denis said, “Sir, please don't spoil the set, take all of our books.”
He took all of Srila Prabhupada's books that we had, almost a dozen.
Some time after the event we found out that he lived in the same building as Bhaktin Vera. We stayed once at her place and had a sanga. When we narrated to her our meeting with the director of the butcher shops and slaughterhouse, she said: “He recently left the company.”
Srila Prabhupada, ki jaya!