LYRICS:
It was a Friday, August 13, 1965. At 9 in the morning, a lonely, elderly gentleman, A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami boards a ship at Calcutta Port sailing to New York. The black cargo ship, small and weathered, was anchored at dockside. Sailors curiously saw the elderly saffron dressed sadhu as he spoke last words to his companion in the taxi and walked determinedly towards the boat. He had only a suitcase, an umbrella and a supply of dry cereals as hand baggage. There was no one on the shore to bid him go
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