Another war between India and Pakistan was in progress. Srila Prabhupada and his entourage of foreign disciples were in Delhi when the war broke out. We were staying in a dharmasala in Old Delhi. At night there was a curfew, with a call for windows to be covered and lights to be extinguished during air raids. Prabhupada didn't really do anything differently. We went on our morning walks as usual, and at night we held the usual kirtan programs.
One night at the dharmasala there were about thirty guests and devotees. The sirens began to wail. Some devotees looked to Prabhupada as whether we should interrupt the program to cover the windows or not. Prabhupada continued chanting and didn't seem to pay any attention to the sirens. As his talk was about to begin, some were still awaiting an instruction. Meanwhile some dharmasala caretakers came in and quietly put blankets over the windows.
No bombs hit Delhi; in fact, the planes didn't make it past the border before returning with engine trouble. I figured something like that would happen, for we were with Srila Prabhupada. Later, as the war progressed, some Pakistani planes actually did make it into India. Indian citizens were frightened.
The next day two men were visiting Prabhupada and they asked, "Why didn't you cover the windows? Weren't you afraid of being bombed?"
Prabhupada said, "It is not under our control. If Krishna wants to kill, who can save, and if Krishna wants to save, who can kill?"
The men didn't understand. "But what if the bomb would—"
"You cannot even control your stomachache, your toothache," Prabhupada interrupted: "If I should see the bomb coming overhead"—Prabhupada looked, wide-eyed and trusting toward the sky—"then I will see the bomb as Krishna." He continued to look up, his arms spread wide open, "I will see the bomb as Krishna."
(By His Example, Chapter 5)