Monday Morning Greetings 2025 #43 – What I Learned from Bhakta Herman and the Prostitute

What I Learned from Bhakta Herman and the Prostitute [1]

You’re a monk. Are you really going to talk about a prostitute?

It’s there in the Uddhava-gīta in the Eleventh Canto of the Bhāgavatam where Śrī Krishna relates to Uddhava the description of the avadhūta brāhmaṇa’s twenty-eight gurus in nature. The prostitute’s experience of waiting all night for a suitor who never came was so frustrating that she renounced the world to exclusively take shelter of the Supreme Lord. From her the avadhūta brāhmaṇa learned that all material hope leads to misery.

Each of the twenty-eight gurus in nature, from the sun and the wind to the python and prostitute, taught different lessons. But each instance reaffirms a common point, that a detached and objective study of the world will reveal the same teachings as would a spiritual master, saintly people, or the scriptures.

I have had many experiences where I could see in the world what I learned from my teachers. One of the strongest came from observing a very humble devotee twenty-five years ago. His name was Bhakta Herman. Below is a substantially edited version of that encounter which was originally written when I met him.

Today I learned a very important lesson from Bhakta Herman.

As I was leaving the ISKCON temple in Vrindavan this morning an older brahmacāri came up to me to present a garland from some of the South African lady disciples of Partha-Sarathi Prabhu who were standing nearby. I was intrigued by this brahmacāri, who introduced himself as Bhakta Herman.

He was in his early sixties, not much taller than five-feet tall, and somewhat disabled in both feet. Although he could walk without a cane, he shuffled his feet carefully like a person blistered on both feet after parikramā. His disability, however, was obviously permanent, either congenital, or due to serious accident or disease. His jaws were also constantly gnawing, either from pain or a nervous disorder. I couldn’t help noticing his strong Brooklyn accent, which also was slurred by a serious speech disorder. He therefore spoke in an almost childish and squeaky tone. I began a conversation with him and he revealed himself to be a humble and likeable devotee.

“Where are you from, prabhu?”

“I stay six munts of da year in Burkly, and six munts in Vrindavan.”

“What do you do?”

“I mop flawz and wash pots.”

His service was so menial that I felt embarrassed to have asked him about it. From the positive tone of his response, however, I could sense he wasn’t bothered at all by my question. I thus continued.

“Where were you born?”

“Coney Island in Brooklyn. Ya know where dhat iz?”

“Coney Island! Hey, I’m from Cropsey Avenue less than fifteen minutes away.”

“Yeah. Dats just ovah da bridge.” A rapport was developing.

I began to recall fond memories of almost forty years past, even before I was six years old, when my grandmother would occasionally take me there. Coney Island had one of the most prominent amusement parks in the world, but even as young child I could sense that Coney Island, like all old amusement parks, was a nice place to visit but was in the poorest of neighborhoods. I could therefore understand that Herman was from the humblest of backgrounds. I continued our pleasant exchange.

“How do you like Krishna consciousness, Herman?”

His face lit up. “I don’t know why, but I git such necktuh. Such necktuh comes. All of a suddin, necktuh!” With each “necktuh” his heart became lighter and his face became brighter.

I could see Bhakta Herman was experiencing something wonderful and that although his service was menial, it didn’t bother him at all. That encounter with him really made a strong impression on me.

Bhakta Herman had very few, if any, material assets, which seemed to make him very dependent on God. This enabled him to approach God with real feeling. He could thus feel great joy from the humblest service.

From observing Bhakta Herman I learned the relationship between bhakti and an absence of false prestige. And it was the exact same lesson that my divine master, Śrīla Prabhupāda, was lecturing on repeatedly. For example, he often spoke on Queen Kunti’s prayers.

“My Lord, Your Lordship can easily be approached but only by those who are materially exhausted. One who is on the path of [material progress], trying to improve himself with respectable parentage, great opulence, high education and bodily beauty, cannot approach You with sincere feeling.” (Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam 1.8.26)

Remembering Bhakta Herman also reaffirmed what I was studying just this morning in a commentary by Śrī Jīva describing the general principle learned from the avadhūta brāhmaṇa’s twenty-eight gurus in nature:

“…gurv-anusaraṇe pravartaka ity arthaḥ: the knowledge acquired by one’s own perception and intelligence leads one to appreciate the value of the representative of Lord Krishna.” (Bhāgavatam 11.7.20, purport)

And today my memory of observing Bhakta Herman certainly did.

And that’s what I learned from Bhakta Herman and the prostitute!

[1] This Monday Morning Greetings is not a reprint but is based on an article I wrote twenty-five years ago https://wavesofdevotion.com/2000/11/30/vrindaban-an-intelligent-person-expert/.