February 14 – a day to remember, at least for me. Not because it is celebrated as St. Valentine’s

day, although it would be wonderful if I could truly say

February 14 1972 was a special day for me because it was the day I changed from this:

Denis "Harry" Harrison, January 1972 Perth Australia

to this:

Bhakta Harry, February 14 1972 - Sydney Australia

This was the day I first had my head shaved and made the final commitment to join the Sydney Hare Krishna temple, which in those days was located at 84 Hereford St. Glebe. Long story, and even longer since then. But looking back, it was the day my life changed and I never looked back. I was 21 yrs. and 2 months old.

I had been attending the temple everyday for a week. I would leave my rented house in Chippendale at 6.00AM, walk the several miles to the temple bare feet, do a day’s service and then walk back again at 8.00PM. Before leaving I would smoke one cigarette, and when I got back, I would smoke one more.  I had been a 15-a-day man for some years but by this time I managed to reduce it to two a day. Pretty hard habit to give up.

I was waiting for my friends to arrive from north Western Australia where we had all spent the second half of 1971 working on a mining camp in a place called Paraburdoo. After Christmas 1971 I was finished–finished with a mindless existence and finished with material life. I left at the beginning of 1972 to travel several thousand miles to Sydney to find the devotees. My friends stayed behind to earn a bit more money while I went off to meet my destiny. On the way I stopped off in Perth at a friend’s house for 10 days, which is where the above ‘before’ photo was taken.

Once in Sydney I tracked down the devotees and in early February I started regularly attending the temple. There was an unusual character called Hanuman das, a French Canadian, who would grab me by the hair every day and with great gusto ask, “When are we going to take this off!?”. I would reply “When my friends come from WA to take over the house I am renting, then you can shave it off.”

This went on for a week. I hadn’t heard from my friends so I decided not to pay the house rent any more and move into the temple. The same day, they suddenly turned up without warning and I sat down with them and preached to them the glories of Krsna to whatever limited extent I knew. We stayed up the entire night.

Two of the guys, Bob and Chris, were childhood friends who I grew up with from 5 years old and went all the way through infants, junior and high school with. We had emigrated from England to Australia together in April 1971 and now I was leaving their company for an entirely new life.

Chris Hall Feb. 1972

Bob Hornsby and Trevor Feb. 1972

Another guy, Trevor, whom we had met  on the boat over, was astonished. He told me “You hear about people looking for the meaning of life, but you never hear of anyone who actually found it. But you have found what you were looking for!”

The next day, February 14, I went to the temple as usual and as usual Hanuman grabbed me by my shoulder-length locks and guffawed, “When are we going to have this off!?”

“You can do it now if you like,” I told him to great surprise. “My friends have come and I have turned the house over to them. I am ready to move in.”

Hanuman wasted no time. He had me shaved up within minutes, along with another young man who had been attending the temple on a regular basis, Bhakta Phil. (The two of us were initiated by Srila Prabhupada on April 9th 1972 as Hari-sauri dasa and Partha dasa.)

Hanuman was surprised when I told him I was going back to my house to collect my belongings and that I would move into the temple the next morning. But not as surprised as my friends when I walked in the door that night bald and blissful with a long sikha flowing down the back of my neck, the only remnant of a once-proud curling mane. Trevor’s jaw nearly hit the floor in shock. “I know you said you were going to join them, but somehow I didn’t quite believe it. But you’ve done it!” And that was when the above photo of me with my newly shorn head was taken.

That was it, I distributed my extensive record collection to my friends, along with most of my clothes and other possessions. A few things I kept for myself and my new stereo I gave to the temple along with all my life-savings.

I remember as I walked through the front door of the temple the following morning with my suitcase, I felt a huge weight lift off my shoulders. I had a very distinct impression that I was now catching up to somewhere that I had left a long time before, and that my real life was just recommencing again. And as I walked through the door my desire to smoke another cigarette simply evaporated and I never had the urge again.

Of course there’s a lot more to this little biography, but the events on the day prompted me to put this down. Happy Valentine’s day, may your love for Radha and Krsna always increase.

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