# Back to Godhead Magazine #52 *2018 (03)* Back to Godhead Magazine #52-03, 2018 PDF-View ## A Pause for Prayer I offer my respectful obeisances unto Lord Nrsimhadeva, the source of all power. O my Lord who possess nails and teeth just like thunderbolts, kindly vanquish our demonlike desires for fruitive activity in this material world. Please appear in our hearts and drive away our ignorance so that by Your mercy we may become fearless in the struggle for existence in this material world. May there be good fortune throughout the universe, and may all envious persons be pacified. May all living entities become calm by practicing *bhakti-yoga*, for by accepting devotional service they will think of each other's welfare. Therefore let us all engage in the service of the supreme transcendence, Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa, and always remain absorbed in thought of Him. — Prahlada Mahārāja to Lord Nrsimha *Śrīmad-Bhagavatam* 5.18.8–9 ## Letters *The Position of Lord Brahma* I know you specialize in Krsna, but I was wondering why Hindus don't worship Brahma and if it is bad to do so. Evan Dean Via the Internet *Our reply:* Actually, it is not that we "specialize in Krsna," but rather, Krsna is Lord Brahma's "boss." There are some wonderful prayers written by Lord Brahma, called the Brahma-saṁhitā. In those prayers Lord Brahma himself says that Lord Krsna is the source of everything, the Supreme Personality of Godhead. > īśvaraḥ paramaḥ kṛṣṇaḥ > sac-cid-ānanda-vigraha > ādir ādir govindaḥ > sarva-kāraṇa-kāraṇam > [Bs 5.1] "Krsna, who is known as Govinda, is the Supreme Godhead. He has an eternal blissful spiritual body. He is the origin of all. He has no other origin, and He is the prime cause of all causes." Many other prayers follow this prayer, each glorifying the power of Sri Krsna and acknowledging Him as the Supreme Lord. Brahma is the secondary creator, as the contractor of a building project is the secondary creator in relationship to whoever commissioned the building. Lord Krsna is the creator and maintainer of everything. He has various subordinates, known as demigods, who are responsible for different cosmic tasks. Lord Brahma is the chief of those demigods, and he is the secondary creator of the universe. He works under the direction of Sri Krsna, and when things happen in the universe that he is unable to handle, he goes to Lord Krsna for advice and assistance. This is shown in many of the events described in the Srimad-Bhagavatam. In fact, a primary catalyst for Lord Krsna's appearance on earth fifty centuries ago was that the demigods were in distress and went to Lord Brahma for help. He in turn went to Lord Krsna's expansion Lord Viṣṇu to ask for His help. And then Lord Krsna appeared on earth. To connect with the person in charge is more efficient and direct than going through secondary persons, and so we worship Lord Krsna. We also recognize Lord Brahma as a great devotee of Krsna and as someone with great responsibility in the material sphere. But Lord Brahma is subject to death, unlike Lord Krsna, who is eternal and full of knowledge and bliss. *Krsna's Seeming Indifference* Why is Krsna indifferent to me while at the same time He expects prayer from me? Vishal Via the Internet *Our reply:* Lord Krsna is not indifferent. He offers many ways for us to get to know Him, but as in developing a relationship with anyone else, we have to make some effort. He gives us His holy name, through which we can get in touch with Him. He gives us temples where we can come to see Him, and holy books to read about Him. He gives us air, water, food. Sometimes He gives us what we need rather than what we want, a common practice for a parent. Children often want things that are not good for them and may often resent it when their parents don't fulfill their desires. But out of love, the parents decide not to give what will, in the long run, make their children ill or unhappy. If we go to Krsna just to ask for things, He will not automatically give us whatever we want, but that is not indifference. If we pray to Him and try to understand His intentions, we can find again and yet again that He has our welfare in mind. We just need to try to understand things from different angles of vision, and sometimes that takes maturity and patience. You ask why He wants your prayers. But He doesn't want just any type of prayers. If you are always asking your parents for things, they won't be able to satisfy your every desire, especially if you don't earn or deserve what you are asking for. People go to God all the time and ask for things, even things that will hurt them and others. He decides what is best and doesn't just dole out everything we ask Him for. He would rather have us pray by glorifying Him and by asking Him to help us serve Him. If we go to our parents or others we love and offer service, then we will find they will reciprocate with love and affection. Lord Krsna wants us to have a loving relationship with Him. He is even willing to become the loving servant of those who truly love Him. Krsna knows that if we serve Him rather than our own sensual desires, we can get to know Him in a loving exchange. This will truly make us happy. But we think that other things will make us happy, so we ask for so many things. They leave us disappointed or never satisfied or satisfied for a short time and then unsatisfied again, so we keep desiring, keep asking, and keep feeling frustrated that we are not happy. As children get older and want their independence, the parents will eventually allow it. Then the children enjoy and suffer on their own. But because they are acting on their own desires, they can't expect to have their independence without any responsibility. That is immature. If we develop a loving relationship with God and render service to Him, He will reciprocate. Krsna says that if we offer Him even a leaf or a fruit with love and devotion, He will reciprocate. He doesn't need anything from us-not prayers, not anything. It is we who need to return to our natural loving relationship with Him. That return is not an intellectual pursuit; it has to be done with love and faith, and little by little the relationship will become clear. Association with persons who have that faith will help. If you associate with persons who are not inclined toward God, that will have a negative effect. If you want to know Krsna, choose your association carefully and try to get to know Him through loving service and chanting His holy names. *Anxiety Free* How can I drive away anxiety? Sanchez Via the Internet *Our reply*: According to the *Bhagavad-gītā*, you can drive away anxiety by giving up attachment to the fruit of your work. You are anxious because you have expectations from the work you do, from people, from your family, from everyone. You are attached to your expectations. Try to reduce your expectations and your attachment to them. Do your duties, and dedicate your work to Kṛṣṇa. Whatever money, intelligence, skills, or resources you have, use them for Kṛṣṇa. If you do this, your anxiety will reduce. It may take time. You have to get training, which you can get by associating with devotees in ISKCON's temples. If you go to the temple regularly and practice *bhakti* regularly, you will gradually become free of anxiety. *Replies were written by Krishna.com Live Help volunteers. Please write to us at: BTG, P.O. Box 430, Alachua, Florida 32616, USA. Email: [email protected].* ## In Defense of the Vedic View *By Badrinarayan Swami* "Both the Vaisnava theists and the materialists each present their own set of amazing stories. The choice is . . . which set of amazing stories to believe." It is the grand conceit of the materialistic worldview that “man is the measure of all things.” When we dig a little deeper, we find that this premise is based on a profoundly arrogant presumption, namely, that all reality can ultimately be subordinated to our sense perception and intellect. At the same time, many of us have experienced being in a location free from artificial light—say on top of a mountain or in the desert. Gazing up at the night sky and seeing the vast array of stars and planets, we feel how they are both very close and yet very far away. To a reflective person, the sense of our place in the universe becomes dwarfed. Take one of the many virtual excursions offered on-line from our location on earth out to the Milky Way. Perhaps we are not as significant as we think we are. Let us imagine Christopher Columbus Ant. He is sent out of his colony to explore new worlds. Suppose that in the course of his expedition he crawls over me—up my arm, across my ear, navigating his way through the hairs on my head, back down my other arm to *terra firma*. He will report to his queen: “I have discovered vast lands, canyons, forests—all uninhabited.” He is crawling on me, and yet, due to his limited perception, to him I don’t even exist as a person. It is worth considering that our scope of perception and experience may also have limits like those of our ant explorer. Einstein postulated that we live in a multidimensional universe. Let’s go with that concept for a moment. Suppose you and I agree to meet downtown at the corner of Fifth and Main at 10 a.m. tomorrow. To be quite certain, we agree to meet on the northwest corner of the intersection. Being a responsible person, you arrive at the designated spot by 9:45 a.m. You wait until 10:30 a.m. without seeing me. Having other obligations, you have to leave. We meet the next day and I ask you, “Where were you? I was there from 9:30 a.m. until 10:30 a.m., but no sign of you.” You assure me that you were also there at the right time, right day, and right location. How is it possible that we missed each other? Add a building at that northwest corner. In two dimensions, length and breadth, we were in the exact same place, but if you add the third dimension of height—say you were on the ground floor and I was on the fifth floor—and lo and behold, we don’t see each other. In one sense we were in two different worlds. According to the *Vedas*, we do in fact live in a multidimensional universe. The Vedic *yogis* and mystics have access to dimensions beyond our level of perception. Thus, what cannot be measured or experienced by the layman is commonplace for them. As you sit in a room reading this article, there are unseen realities all around you. Turn on a radio and you can experience a ball game. Open up your computer and you can explore faraway worlds. Have a police scanner with you and you can visit a crime scene. There are many worlds hovering around us at all times, which we can perceive only if we have the means to access them. Those who know the science and have the right devices can easily access these unseen realities. In the same way, the *Vedas* present higher dimensions and descriptions of them. We do not hide from the fact that Vaisnava theists describe an amazing universe. But the other side of the equation is the fact that the materialists have their own set of amazing stories. Thus, the question is not whether or not to believe in amazing stories; the question is which set of amazing stories to believe—the Vaisnava theists’ or the materialists’? *No Free Lunch* The Vaisnava theists accept that Kṛṣṇa is the cause of all causes, the source of all existence. The materialists ask us to believe that existence is “the original free lunch,” that everything arose spontaneously from a single point, or “singularity.” “The most common belief is that all the laws of nature were completely fixed at the moment of the Big Bang. Modern science is based on the principle ‘Give us one free miracle and we'll explain the rest.’ The one free miracle is the appearance of all the matter and energy in the universe and all the laws that govern it from nothing, in a single instant.” (Rupert Sheldrake, TED talk, January 13, 2013) The Vaisnavas have confidence in intelligent design. The materialists ask us to believe that everything in our complex and interdependent universe is driven only by random chance. The materialists ask us to accept “dark matter,” the 84% of the total mass in the universe that is missing or beyond our perception. Dark matter is a “fudge factor,” a speculative concept added into cosmological models because without it, according to current theories, the cosmos would either spin out to oblivion or implode. It is like adding an imaginary number to make your checkbook balance. We are asked to accept the concept of “dark matter,” though your bank would certainly not accept payment in “dark dollars.” Try telling your bank, “Don’t worry, the money I owe is actually there. You just can’t see it.” *Unconscious Computers* The Vaisnavas present that consciousness is due to the presence of the soul. The materialists ask us to believe that consciousness is only a brain function. They present that in due course computers will become conscious—we can hope that they may keep humans around as pets. The idea is that one day computers will become sophisticated enough to have that existential “aha moment”—there will eventually come a point where a computer is conscious—feeling emotion and having a sense of self. But let’s consider this idea for a moment. Look at a pocket translator. You can type in a phrase in English and get the Chinese translation. Is there a tiny Chinese/English speaker inside the pocket translator? Of course not. All that is inside are circuits firing pluses and minuses. These in turn are used for computer code of zeros and ones. By careful design (not by chance, it is worth noting) that carefully-crafted code will provide the Chinese translation. Now let’s take a stadium full of 100,000 people. In theory, you could work that crowd like the circuits in our pocket translator. You could draw up a set of rules that dictate if person A receives a “1” from person B, then person A gives a “0” to person C. When person C receives a “0” from person B, then person C should give a “1” to person D. In this way, extending a written set of code throughout the stadium, you would have your living computer. In theory, you could submit your English phrase at one goalpost and receive your Chinese translation at the other goalpost, at the far end of the field. Here’s our question: Did any of our stadium attendees learn a word of Chinese? Did any of them even know that they were translating Chinese? Rather, the level of perception, the level of consciousness, was simply the shuffling of zeros and ones. Why, therefore, is it believed that if we design a sophisticated enough computer it will one day become conscious, feel emotion, and have a sense of self? Instead, no matter how complex a code is written, it will still be only the routing of pluses and minuses, the shuffling of ones and zeros. There will be no creation of consciousness, just as no one became conscious of a single word of Chinese in our stadium. *On Shaky Ground* Existence from nothing, an intricately-balanced universe happening by chance, dark matter, consciousness as merely a brain function—the list of amazing stories we are asked to believe goes on and on. Once again, both the Vaisnava theists and the materialists each present their own set of amazing stories. The choice is not whether or not to believe amazing stories. Rather, the choice is which set of amazing stories to believe—which side of the scale is more logically balanced? We often encounter a condescending tone from the materialists, steeped as they are in faith in the power of research based on sense perception. Let me offer a few examples that should invoke caution regarding this conviction. Maybe the materialists are not on as solid ground as they present to the public. • “*Microwave oven baffled astronomers for 17 years*” / At Parkes Observatory in Australia, their world-renowned radio telescope was picking up strange signals thought to be generated from the outer limits of space. Peer-reviewed papers were published in respected science journals speculating as to the cosmic cause. Turns out that the source was the microwave oven in the staff cafeteria. “If you set it to heat and pulled the door open a little early, it sent a burst of energy that was read by our telescope,” said Simon Johnson, head of astrophysics at the scientific research agency CSIRO. (*Wired UK*, May 5, 2015) • “*A crisis in physics? If supersymmetry does not pan out, scientists will need a new way to explain the universe.*” */* From the cover of the May 2014 issue of the magazine *Scientific American*. They will need a new way to explain the universe? But the glitzy computer animations in *National Geographic, Nova*, etc. present to the public that they have the cornerstone questions about the universe all nailed down. • “*The replication crisis*” / “Scientists have found that the results of many scientific studies are difficult or impossible to replicate on subsequent investigation, either by independent researchers or the original researchers themselves. The world of science is in the middle of unprecedented soul-searching at present. The credibility of science rests on the widespread assumption that the results are replicable and that high standards are maintained by anonymous peer review. These pillars are crumbling.” From *Nature* magazine, September 1, 2015. • “*Stephen Hawking changes his mind on black holes*” */* “The world-famous author of *A Brief History of Time* said he and other scientists had gotten it wrong. In doing so he lost one of the most famous bets in recent scientific history.” (BBC, July 16, 2004) Sufficient to say that if we are honest, we must concede that we are limited. People often say, “As far as I can see . . .” That is the point—how far can we actually see? Some will counter, “But we have electron microscopes, the Hubble telescope, and the Large Hadron Collider [the most powerful atom smasher].” Try as we might to extend the process of perception by sophisticated instruments, the principle remains the same: our senses and the machines created by them are limited and fallible. We are using our imperfect senses, extended by imperfect machines, to try to find perfection. However, imperfection times imperfection still equals imperfection. We often hear this challenge: “By continued exploration we are building on our current base of knowledge. Over time we will unlock all the secrets of the universe.” In 1912 the world’s record for pole vaulting was 13' 2¼". By improved equipment and training, the record now stands at 20' 2½". But will anyone ever be able to pole vault to the moon? In other words, improvement over time is to be expected, but only within a certain range. The same is true of exploratory science using our limited and fallible senses and intellect. Such knowledge will grow, but only within a certain range, only up to a finite degree. *Two Paths to Knowledge* The *Vedas* outline two processes for gathering knowledge. One is known as *aroha-pantha*, or “the ascending method,” while the other is known as av*aroha-pantha*, or “the descending method.” The ascending process is the method of empiric research and speculation. The descending process is the process of accepting revealed knowledge coming down to us via the Vedic scriptures and sages. The essential question is “How can the finite understand that which is infinite?” Suppose you are sitting eight feet from me. Suppose some mischievous person has put glue on my seat and now I cannot leave my chair. Due to my moored position, I can only stretch my arm out to three feet. Can I shake your hand? By my own efforts, the answer is “no.” But what if you take the initiative and come to me? Then our shaking hands is easily accomplished. The point is that the finite is not be able to reach the infinite by personal endeavor, but if the infinite comes to us, then only does it become possible for us to understand the infinite. The only viable process for understanding the Absolute is revelatory—if the Absolute chooses to reach out to us. *Conclusion* The Vaisnavas are not anti-science. After all, I am writing this article on a computer. I have a pacemaker to keep my heart ticking. We recognize and appreciate the achievements of modern research. The problem comes when our scientist friends go beyond the scope of their actual knowledge and falsely claim to have disproved the Vedic version of reality. The Vaisnavas honestly recognize humankind’s inherent limitations. We understand that it is impossible to “take the kingdom of God by storm.” Rather, the Vaisnavas astutely practice the Vedic process of realizing truth by descending revelation. As it has since time immemorial, the Vedic process continues to deliver on its promise: to award sublime knowledge and pure love of God to its serious practitioners. > teṣāṁ satata-yuktānāṁ > bhajatāṁ prīti-pūrvakam > dadāmi buddhi-yogaṁ taṁ > yena mām upayānti te “To those who are constantly devoted to serving Me with love, I give the understanding by which they can come to Me.” (*Bhagavad*-*gītā* 10.10) *Badrinarayan Swami joined ISKCON in 1970 and has been a member of ISKCON's Governing Body Commission since 1987. Based in San Diego, California, he accepted* sannyasa*, the renounced order of life, in 2014.* ## Intention in Tension? *Caitanya Carana Dāsa* *Reflections on how to avoid launching unintentional verbal attacks on others and how to weather such attacks from others.* “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me.” This saying urges us to become thick-skinned and not let people’s harsh words hurt us. It is an expression of a conscious intention, a rallying call to steel oneself against painful words, whose power to injure is conveyed in another aphorism: “Words hurt more than swords.” *The Sinister Shapeshifter* The dynamics underlying these two paradoxical sayings can be understood from a pastime in the *Ramayana*. When Rama was living in the forest with His wife, Sita, and His younger brother Laksmana, they became the target of a conspiracy by the demon king Ravana, who wanted to abduct Sita. He instructed one of his demon associates, a shapeshifting wizard named Marica, to assume the form of a spellbindingly beautiful deer. It danced and pranced near Rama’s forest cottage, captivating the tenderhearted Sita. She desired the deer as a pet to alleviate the austerity of forest life. Further, when their exile ended and they returned to Ayodhya, she could gift it as a memento to her mother-in-law Kausalya. Pointing to the deer, Sita requested Rama to get it for her. Laksmana, who was by Rama’s side, peered at the deer. Where Sita saw disarming beauty, Laksmana saw disconcerting peculiarity. Remarking that the deer looked too beautiful to be real, he pointed out that other animals were staying away from it. Given that deer are not predators, such fear of the deer among other animals was suspicious. Laksmana inferred that the deer was actually a demon. Sita, however, was so captivated that she neglected Laksmana’s inference and beseeched Rama again. Rama didn’t have the heart to say no. She had given up much for His sake in following Him to the forest, and He, being bereft of all royal resources, had been able to give her little in return. So He decided to fulfill this small desire of hers by catching the deer. On seeing Rama approaching, the deer took off into the forest. Rama gave chase, and soon they both disappeared deep into the wilderness. Rama pursued the deer for nearly an hour. Whenever He closed in on it, it would escape by taking a giant leap, far bigger than what any deer would be capable of. Or it would just mystically disappear and then reappear at a distance, as if teasing Rama. Tiring of its many tricks, Rama concluded that Laksmana had been right: the deer was definitely a demon in disguise. Angered at its deception and wary of the danger it posed, He abandoned His plan to catch it alive and decided to kill it. Taking careful aim, He shot an arrow at the deer. Pierced mortally, the deer fell. The demon’s shapeshifting abilities deserted him, and he relapsed into his normal form as Marica. Despite being fatally wounded, he summoned whatever residual abilities he had and imitated Rama’s voice, calling to Laksmana and Sita for help. His loud call resonated for several miles all around. *The Terrible Accusation* On hearing the call, Sita became overwhelmed by anxiety and agony. Laksmana remained undisturbed, having full faith in Rama’s ability to deal with any danger. He reassured Sita that the voice was not Rama's but that of a demon impersonating Rama. But because the impersonation was so good, Sita didn’t feel reassured by Laksmana's words. Instead, she felt agitated by his actions—or, more precisely, by his inaction. Fearing that Rama might be in danger, which might degenerate into disaster if He was not helped, she urged and begged Laksmana to go to Rama. On seeing her brother-in-law unmoved and unmoving, she felt desperately driven to somehow trigger him into action. In a frenzy of anxiety, she uttered words that cut Laksmana deeper than had the sharpest arrows of the fiercest demons in the toughest battles he had fought. Sita insinuated that he had lusty designs towards her; he had come to the forest just to wait for an opportunity to act on those designs; and he was refusing to go to Rama’s help so that, with Rama eliminated by the demon, he could have his way with her. Shrieking that his evil designs would never succeed, she declared that she would rather die than be touched by Laksmana. Sita’s words shocked Laksmana. Since he had always venerated Sita like his mother, to be accused of having lusty intentions towards her was horrifying. Further, he had the heart of a warrior who loved a good fight. Yet on Rama’s instruction he had subordinated his martial instinct and accepted the role of a passive guard for Sita away from the scene of action while Rama played the role of the heroic warrior who bested demons. Despite having exhibited such dutiful subordination again and again, to be accused of doing nothing—and doing nothing so as to further his lusty desires—was excruciating. Most of all, Laksmana loved his brother so much that he would have without even a moment’s hesitation laid down his life for Rama’s sake. To be accused of knowingly and intentionally staying passive while Rama was being killed was totally unbearable. Laksmana knew that Rama was in no danger and that Sita would be put in danger by being left alone. Yet he could see no other way to stop Sita from hurling any more unbearable accusations at him, so he left her and went to search for Rama. Before departing, he drew a circle around the cottage, invested it with mystic protective power, and requested Sita to stay within it. Then he departed, following his brother’s trail deep into the forest. Soon he met Rama, who was rushing back towards the cottage. On seeing Laksmana, Rama reproached him for having left Sita alone and unguarded. Laksmana explained the words with which Sita had goaded him to leave. But Rama brushed them aside, telling Laksmana he shouldn’t have taken so seriously her sentimental words spoken in anxiety. Put another way, Rama essentially stated: Don’t ascribe ill intention to what is spoken in tension. Rama’s words helped Laksmana calm down. They both realized that a conspiracy was afoot. The demon’s taking on a deer form to captivate Sita, its evasive flight into the forest to take Rama far away from Sita, and its final cry in Rama's voice to get Laksmana away from Sita had all been parts of a scheme to render Sita alone and defenseless in the cottage. Her harsh words to Laksmana had unwittingly furthered the conspiracy, as had Laksmana reaction to them. Realizing the great danger Sita would be in, they both rushed back to the cottage. But it was too late; she had already been abducted. *The Battle Between the Head and the Tongue* Sita and Laksmana are transcendental, being intimate associates of Rama—by their actions they assist Him in His pastimes according to His divine plan. So rather than judging whether Sita was wrong in speaking those hurtful words or whether Laksmana was wrong in taking those words too seriously, we can focus instead on how we can carefully choose our words and our responses to others’ words. In the backdrop of this pastime, let’s revisit the two sayings about the power of words. “Words will never harm me” can be seen as an exhortation to the injured party to not take hurting words too seriously. “Words hurt more than swords” can be seen as an exhortation to a potential injurer, the person about to lash out verbally. At different times amidst life’s vicissitudes, we can be either the injured or the injurer. So, depending on context, both these sayings can guide us. Life’s unpalatable reality is that, no matter how nice we are to people, they will sometimes speak hurtful words. When such words come from our loved ones, they often hurt much more than when they come from our antagonists. Pain is often a function of expectation and preparation. When we expect a punch, we steel ourselves against it—the punch still hurts, but the hurt is decreased by our preparedness. However, when we expect a pat and receive a punch instead, the punch catches us unawares and hurts us more. Similarly, when we are with our antagonists, we expect hurting words and steel ourselves against them. But when we are with our loved ones, we expect kind words. When we receive harsh words instead, they sting intolerably, as happened with Laksmana on hearing Sita’s accusatory words. Still, we can prevent passing words from causing lasting ruptures in our relationships by considering that words spoken in tension seldom reflect intention. Tension often makes our head lose the battle with our tongue. And we end up speaking hurting words without really meaning what we are saying. Just as we are prone to this human weakness, so are others. Just as we would want others to excuse us for such lapses, we too should excuse others’ similar lapses. A question may surface: "Even if someone—my brother, let's say—speaks to me when in tension, should I ascribe absolutely no intention to his words?" No matter how stressed he might have been, doesn’t the very fact that he spoke certain things suggest he must have thought something in that direction earlier? After all, if there is smoke, shouldn’t there be some fire somewhere? A more pertinent question is, Should we be judging others based on the contents of the smokiest chambers of their heart? We wouldn't want others to judge us by that standard. We all are contaminated by many past negative impressions, and we live in a culture that further contaminates us. So dark thoughts may surface within us even against our intentions. The *Bhagavad-gītā* (3.36) mentions that within our psyche exists something that impels us towards actions that are against our intentions. If people were to be judged and condemned for the dark thoughts that might pass through their minds—thoughts that occasionally come out as words—then we would probably have to condemn ourselves first. So if someone who is usually kindhearted suddenly speaks something harsh, we needn’t let that one outburst overshadow the past track record. Why let a potentially lasting relationship become a hostage of one verbal lapse? By the arrangement of nature and ultimately of God, we can see others’ expressions and actions but not their thoughts. This barrier in perception serves as an essential protector of all relationships. If everyone could see everything that passed through everyone else’s mind, everyone would be shocked by the incidental unworthy thoughts of others, thereby making any relationship almost impossible to sustain. The barrier between our thoughts and our words and actions provides us room for self-regulation, for restraining our lower side and expressing our higher side. Thus we can attain self-mastery and gradually bring out the best within us. If we are on the verge of speaking without thinking, we can create a pause button for ourselves by, say, counting to ten or, better still, chanting the holy names of God ten times. If anger keeps choking us internally, we can vent it in a journal, thus getting it out of our system without scorching others. Getting the anger out of our system will calm us down. Then we can revisit what we have written and use our intelligence to evaluate whether our anger is justified. If it is, we can determine the most appropriate way to express it so that we can help clarify any misconception and rectify any misdemeanor. *The Divine Center for Relationships* The point of relationships is not mutually destructive condemnation, but synergistic elevation. We are not here to see through each other; we are here to see each other through. Keeping this cooperative focus in mind can make our relationships symbiotic, not antagonistic. Such a vision of relationships based on mutual cooperation is easier to sustain when we study scripture and internalize a spiritual vision of life. When we understand that we are eternal spiritual beings on a multi-life journey towards God, we see others as co-pilgrims on this journey. We will be together for a brief lifetime, and we don’t know what our destination will be thereafter. From this long-term perspective, we can see others’ occasional harsh words as accidental—something like an unintentional elbow jab while traveling in a crowded train. No doubt, harsh words from loved ones cut far deeper than does an elbow jab. And overlooking them is far tougher because the doubt lingers that some ill intention might have been lurking somewhere. When we have been badly hurt, we may need to convey in an appropriate way the magnitude of the wound and the gravity of the wounding words. Further, healing our emotions and restoring our trust may need time—time during which the hurting party demonstrates the absence of any ill intention through consistent actions. Depending on the situation, the specific measures we take to help heal the relationship may vary. But underlying these varying specifics is the common denominator of the willingness to let go of the past. By holding on to something that someone might have unintentionally spoken during a tense situation, we poison our consciousness and paralyze our capacity for loving interactions. By choosing instead to focus on the good side of our loved ones and overlooking any uncharacteristic lapse, we can preserve the steady relationship that can help bring out our higher side—and the higher side of others too. Further, by practicing *bhakti-yoga* regularly, we can bring God into the center of our lives and our relationships. Then we can see others as connected with God and see all interactions as opportunities to grow in spiritual devotion. Sometimes, we may want a God-centered relationship, but the other party may not want to be God-centered or may not act in a godly way. Still, if we center our heart on God by taking fervent shelter of Him, we can get the solace and strength necessary to endure the disappointment in that relationship. Then we will understand that we are acting in our relationships not so much to serve the other people as to serve God through them—so our behavior with them should be determined not just by how they behave but by how God would want us to behave in that situation. Such a meditation can empower us to respond to insensitivity with maturity. Acting with this vision, we can not only improve our relationships with others but can also increasingly relish our supremely fulfilling relationship with God. By focusing on God and how to best serve Him, we can choose words and actions that help us grow. Sita and Laksmana, despite their distressing interaction, were centered on the service of Rama. And by keeping His service at the center of their lives, they were able to put aside this terrible interaction and move on in their relationship. Sita and Laksmana met again at the end of the climactic war against Ravana’s vicious hordes. Neither Sita nor Laksmana mentioned their traumatic parting. Even before that, neither of them blamed the other for what had happened. Laksmana recognized that what Sita had spoken out of trepidation, not suspicion—and let her words pass. So can we. *Caitanya Carana Dāsa, a disciple of His Holiness Rādhānath Swami, serves full time at ISKCON Mumbai. He is a BTG associate editor and the author of twenty-two books. To read his other articles or to receive his daily reflection on the* Bhagavad-gītā*, "*Gita-Daily,*" visit thespiritualscientist.com.* ## Welcome Śrīla Prabhupāda occasionally used the term "Hindu" when referring to his Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement, but he tended to avoid doing so. One reason is that most people associate Hinduism with polytheism, and Kṛṣṇa consciousness, or Vaiṣṇavism, is definitely not polytheistic. In "Many Gods or One?" Satyaraja Dāsa addresses the topic of polytheism in relation to Vaiṣṇavism. Two articles in this issue deal with the challenge of answering questions about ultimate reality: "In Defense of the Vedic View," by Badrinarayan Swami, and "The Reliable Way to Gain Knowledge," the first *Back to Godhead* article by Giriraja Govinda Dāsa, a scientist by profession. Longtime contributor Visakha Devī Dāsī's "Joy of Devotion" and first-time author Osho Raman's "The Uniqueness of Transcendental Hunger" discuss the natural happiness of the soul's relationship with Kṛṣṇa. Nikunja Vilasini Devī Dāsī's "From One Percent to a Hundred" presents Kṛṣṇa conscious insights on death and danger, and Caitanya Carana Dāsa's "Intention in Tension?" points out the need to think before we speak. Śrīla Prabhupāda's lecture opens the issue with important lessons related to the subtle law of *karma*. And in "Bearer of Light for the West," Yogesvara Dāsa tells of Prabhupāda's historic voyage to America. Hare Kṛṣṇa. —*Nāgarāja Dāsa, Editor* From the Editor *Pleasing God* In his commentary on *Śrīmad-Bhagavatam* 8.17.24, Śrīla Prabhupāda writes, "The Supreme Personality of Godhead exists everywhere. . . . Therefore when one chants His transcendental names—Hare Kṛṣṇa, Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare/ Hare Rama, Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare—the Supreme Personality of Godhead is automatically pleased by such *Sankirtana*. It is not that the Supreme Personality of Godhead is absent; He is present there. And when a devotee utters the transcendental name, it is not a material sound. Therefore, the Supreme Personality of Godhead is naturally pleased. A devotee knows that the Lord is present everywhere and that one can please Him simply by chanting His holy name." Most theists would agree with the first point here: *God* is everywhere. But Prabhupāda characteristically builds on this point and presents valuable insights into the nature of *God*. Not only is He everywhere, but He has names. And those names are personal names, as Prabhupāda indicates by quoting the *maha-mantra*. Of course, Prabhupāda has already referred to *God* as "the Supreme Personality of *God*head," his standard term for *God*. It is a clear expression of *God*'s personhood, unlike the term *God*, which many people use when speaking of something impersonal. What does Śrīla Prabhupāda say here about this Supreme Personality of Godhead, addressed by names like Kṛṣṇa and Rama? He is pleased when we chant His names. Prabhupāda would often point out that we can learn things about God by studying ourselves. Because God is a person, He has all of the characteristics of personhood that we have. In fact, He's the source of them. As every salesperson knows, people like to be addressed by their name. So does Kṛṣṇa, especially, again like us, when He's called upon with love. The idea that we can please Kṛṣṇa by chanting His names implies another important theological point: we have the power to please God. This is not a given for someone speculating about God. God might be so aloof that anything we do has no effect on Him. Maybe He couldn't care less about whatever we countless insignificant souls do to gain His favor. But we learn from the Vedic literature that the Supreme Personality of Godhead is not like that. He cares about what each of us does, and, as He says in the *Bhagavad-gītā* (4.11), He responds in kind. But not in degree. Śrīla Prabhupāda stated it simply: If you please Kṛṣṇa, then you will be pleased, and because Kṛṣṇa has unlimited resources at His disposal, there's no limit to His ability to reward you many times over for anything you do that pleases Him. Kṛṣṇa consciousness is the science of pleasing God. If you can do that, what more do you need? He'll fulfill all your desires. People tend to approach God with material desires, and to get what they want they might like to know how to please Him. In traditional Vedic culture, people with material desires were encouraged by religious guides to worship God through various sacrifices, the idea being that their faith in God would increase when their sacrifices to Him produced tangible results. But God wants more from us than childish requests for material things. He wants our love and devotion. That's what really pleases Him. Hare Kṛṣṇa. —*Nāgarāja Dāsa, Editor* ## The Reliable Way to Gain Knowledge *By Giriraja Govinda Dāsa* *Some considerations about the two primary means of acquiring knowledge: induction and deduction.* “Everywhere life means questions and answers,” Śrīla Prabhupāda said. We have so many questions in our lives, and we seek satisfactory answers for them. While most of us busy ourselves with questions about our day-to-day survival, job, family, and so on, the Vedic literature urges us to inquire beyond these things, to ask far deeper questions—about our existence, God, the secrets of birth and death. “Who am I?” “Does God exist?” “Why do we die?” “What is the soul?” “What is the meaning of life?” Philosophers call these “existential questions,” questions about our existence. At some point these questions cross our minds. They are serious. They are perplexing. The world has changed considerably with the advent of modern science and technology. Until a couple of centuries ago, any responsible person pondering over the above questions would get answers from the sacred scriptures. Now, of course, the situation appears different. With the development of modern science, people have explored the depths of the sea and the vastness of the sky. Now existential questions demand an answer with a scientific touch. With both scriptures and science at our disposal, we can acquaint ourselves with the nature of the conclusions they reach. For that, we should know the two processes for acquiring knowledge: inductive and deductive. *The Inductive Approach* This is a bottom-up approach. In Sanskrit it is called *aroha-pantha*. We all have sense organs: eyes, ears, nose, skin, and tongue, and we use them to perceive the world and gather information. In the inductive approach, we observe the world through our sense organs and then use our mind and intellect to infer conclusions about the observations. Modern science emphasizes this approach and uses it to propound theories about the origin of the universe, the origin of life, and so on. We all know that our sense organs have limitations. For example, our ears can hear only in the frequency range of twenty hertz to twenty kilohertz. We cannot see objects on earth beyond a few kilometers. Our sense of smell is also limited. Scientific instruments help us to some extent, compensating for the deficiencies of our senses. We use the instruments to observe the world, and then we speculate to reach conclusions we hope to be correct. For example, scientists use powerful telescopes to study celestial objects near and far. They classify and name them. In my school days, I happily learned that our solar system has nine *planet*s: Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto. The last one is special. Pluto was discovered in 1930 and was considered the smallest *planet* and the farthest from the sun. The year 2006 was somewhat bad for Pluto. The International Astronomical Union (IAU), the scientific body responsible for naming and classifying objects in the cosmos, redefined the term *planet*, and according to them Pluto did not fit in the category. Its *planet* status was revoked after seventy-five years. They demoted Pluto to “dwarf *planet*,” reducing the number of *planet*s in our solar system to eight. This upset the public and several *planet*ary scientists, who questioned the new definition of a *planet*. A team of NASA scientists is planning to make Pluto a planet again*.* The group, led by Alan Stern, the principal investigator for the New Horizons mission to Pluto, has submitted a proposal to the IAU suggesting a new definition of a planet*.* Mr*.* Stern’s team argues that the definition employed by the IAU is technically flawed*.* Under the new definition offered by the NASA team there would be at least 110 known planets in our solar system*.* Imagine the plight of students with all this yo-yo science*.* The above narration gives us a glimpse of the inductive approach along with its shortcomings. In general, any inductive undertaking is time consuming and leads to imperfect conclusions. For example, a man inductively observing many people die around him may not conclude that he might also die one day. Śrīla Prabhupāda: The essential fault of the so-called scientists is that they have adopted the inductive process to arrive at their conclusions. For example, if a scientist wants to determine whether or not man is mortal by the inductive process, he must study every man to try to discover if some or one of them may be immortal. The scientist says, “I cannot accept the proposition that all men are mortal. There may be some men who are immortal. I have not yet seen every man. Therefore how can I accept that man is mortal?” This is called the inductive process. (*The Science of Self-Realization*, chapter 6) *The Deductive Approach* The deductive* approach is a top-down scheme. In Sanskrit it is called *avaroha-pantha*. Imagine that our friend Mr. A. does not know who his father is and wants to find out for himself. If he chooses to employ an inductive approach, then he will have to conduct scientific research—most probably genetic fingerprinting or DNA paternity testing. Who would be the candidates under research? Ideally Mr. A. has to collect DNA samples from all the eligible, potent men on earth who could have fathered him whatever time ago. Of course, that would be a lot of men. We could narrow down the sample set to men in his city. Still it is a huge number. Some of them might be alive; some might have died. Since fathering is a private act, some candidates might feel offended and refuse to give their samples. Some people’s DNA composition might have mutated over the years. The tests take time because all the samples must be tested. Samples risk being contaminated, creating erroneous results. The DNA tests provide a probability of parentage against each sample, where a probability value of 99.99% is considered the most “likely” father. After this entire ordeal, we are not sure if Mr. A. would still be alive. If alive, he'd probably be bankrupt by funding the project. Worse, would his heart be satisfied with the whole enterprise? Śrīla Prabhupāda: Therefore our speculative knowledge, intellectual platform, is not helpful. We must receive knowledge from a superior source, a perfect source. That knowledge is perfect. Just like we give generally this example, that to find out who is my father, my research will not help me, but if my mother says, "Here is your father," that is perfect knowledge because she's the authority. Therefore, for perfect knowledge, we have to take it from the perfect authority, not by our speculative intellectual gymnastics. No, that will not help. Because our intellectual jurisdiction is very limited. . . . The Vedic process is not to acquire knowledge by the ascending process, the inductive process. Vedic knowledge is to receive knowledge by the descending process, knowledge coming from authority. (Conversation with Professor, December 9, 1973, Los Angeles) Accepting knowledge coming from perfect authority is called the deductive approach. In this approach, an eternal, infallible, absolute authority is accepted at the top level. The knowledge received from the authority serves as a primary beacon with which we acquire subsequent knowledge. In the deductive approach, the limitations of sensory observations and mental speculations are honestly acknowledged and hence subordinated to an authoritative knowledge. So if Mr. A. consults his mother, his question is answered conclusively, decisively, and reliably. She is the authority. Her words can be accepted. A simple and effective method. Śrīla Prabhupāda: We have to accept things which are accepted by authorities. That is our education. We go to a teacher. We go to school. We learn from father, mother. They're all authorities. And our nature is to learn. "Father, what is this?" In childhood. Father says, "This is a pen. This is a spectacle. This is a table." . . . So similarly, if we get information from the authority, and if the authority is not a cheater, then our knowledge is perfect, and very easy. Just like, the father, mother never cheats. When the son inquires from the parents, the parents give exact information, right information. Similarly, if we get right information from the right person, that is perfect knowledge. If you want to reach the conclusion by speculation, that is imperfect—inductive process. That will never become perfect. It will remain imperfect for all the time. (Lecture, July 20, 1971, New York City) Each of us starts getting knowledge through the deductive process right from our childhood. We get guidance from our parents, teachers, and well-wishers in making sense of the world and using our intelligence judiciously. This process of placing our implicit faith in the authority seems innate and natural. It is only after we have acquired (deductively) a basic theoretical understanding that we can begin an inductive process. Nonetheless our instinctive inclination to the deductive approach remains lifelong. For example, scientists deductively accept axioms as authoritative truths while they continue with their inductive process. In our day-to-day life also, we accept the authority of doctors, judges, traffic police, and so on. Either willingly or unwillingly, we accept authorities; the deductive approach is inescapable. Śrīla Prabhupāda: From the beginning of your life, when you were a child, you asked your parents, "Mother, father, what is this?" Why? That is the beginning of life. You cannot go even a step without authority. You are governed by authority. You are running your car by authority—"Keep to the right." Why? Why don't you defy it? So authority we have to obey. But the difficulty is: who is the authority? That we require to learn—who is actually the authority. (Lecture, June 15, 1968, Montreal) *The Authoritative Trio* The Vedic processes prescribe what should be the nature of the authority. It is not that we accept any arbitrary person as an authority based on some dogma. The authority is expected to be perfect, scientific, sensible, intuitively appealing, and self-evident. Such an authority is the trio *guru-sadhu-*sastra**. They are like the three legs of a tripod, together supporting the knowledge of the Absolute Truth. A guru is a bona fide spiritual master, like Śrīla Prabhupāda, coming in an unbroken disciplic succession from Lord Kṛṣṇa. *Sadhus* are others in such bona fide disciplic successions, including great spiritual preceptors like Ramanujacarya. A *sastra* is a scripture, such as the *Bhagavad-gītā* and the *Śrīmad-Bhagavatam*. Each member of the *guru-sadhu-*sastra** system speaks the same truth without contradictions. They provide a perfect authority because they are free from the four defects: (1) imperfect senses, (2) the cheating propensity, (3) the tendency to be illusioned, and (4) the tendency to commit mistakes. Such is the high standard of the accepted authority in the Vedic process. It is a serious business. How serious should we be in our pursuit to seek answers to the existential questions? Quite serious. The *guru-sadhu-sastra* system addresses such questions primarily. These questions are not on the same level as deciding whether some distant, cold, icy place called Pluto is a planet or not. For most of us, that question is irrelevant. Real life is quite different from isolated scientific laboratories. The day-to-day experience of life is a dynamic interplay of emotions, relationships, values, ethics, death, love, anger, passions, purpose, lust, hate, and so on. These experiences are closer to the bone, and we grapple to make sense of them in a satisfactory way. To subject these important aspects of life to the time-consuming trial-and-error method of inductive research seems a misplaced choice. The inductive approach may have its uses, but we should remember that its conclusions may not be perfect. This imperfection makes a big difference. The deductive approach of the *guru-*sadhu*-*sastra** system provides a solid framework that can be used to seek answers to existential questions in a meaningful way. *Guru*, *sadhu*, and *sastra* reinforce one another, providing a stable reference for our lives. Sometimes contradictions may seem to appear in the deductive approach. Śrīla Prabhupāda often addressed this with the example of cow dung. In his introduction to *Bhagavad-gītā As It Is*, he writes: All Vedic knowledge is infallible, and Hindus accept Vedic knowledge to be complete and infallible. For example, cow dung is the stool of an animal, and according to *smti*, or Vedic injunction, if one touches the stool of an animal he has to take a bath to purify himself. But in the Vedic scriptures cow dung is considered to be a purifying agent. One might consider this to be contradictory, but it is accepted because it is Vedic injunction, and indeed by accepting this, one will not commit a mistake; subsequently it has been proved by modern science that cow dung contains all antiseptic properties. So Vedic knowledge is complete because it is above all doubts and mistakes, and *Bhagavad-gītā* is the essence of all Vedic knowledge. Modern science tries its best to discover (inductively) in a rather slow way—in bits and pieces, with trial and error—to reach a conclusion that a Vedic scripture might have simply stated (deductively) a long time ago. We should be cautious about induction-based criticism of the authority of the deductive method. We should carefully consider the relative merits and demerits of the inductive approach and use it as the situations demand. The inductive approach is speculative and may be helpful in certain areas, but for much of life—love, God, purpose, soul, morality, and so on—a deductive approach would do a reliable and satisfactory justice. Therefore it is wise for us to embrace the deductive approach. How do we begin? Speaking to Arjuna, Lord Kṛṣṇa describes the first step: > tad viddhi praṇipātena > paripraśnena sevayā > upadekṣyanti te jñānaṁ > jñāninas tattva-darśinaḥ "Just try to learn the truth by approaching a spiritual master. Inquire from him submissively and render service unto him. The self-realized souls can impart knowledge unto you because they have seen the truth." (*Gita* 4.34) In the purport, Śrīla Prabhupāda writes: “One should not only hear submissively from the spiritual master; but one must also get a clear understanding from him, in submission and service and inquiries.” Here we see that the deductive approach includes questions and answers—clarification of doubts with an open mind. It is not dogmatic. It involves using the faculties of the senses, mind, and intelligence, but with a proper understanding of their powers and limitations. *Broadening the Scientific Perspective* Several great scientists understood the limitations of the inductive method. Who does not know Sir Isaac Newton, the father of mechanics? Even today, after three hundred years, we use Newton’s laws of motion to launch rockets and satellites into space. We use his theory of optics to make telescopes and study the properties of light. We use calculus, his invention, a special branch of mathematics. His contributions to modern science are profound. But he said, “Gravity explains the motions of the planets, but it cannot explain who sets the planets in motion.” Although Newton mathematically formulated the laws of motion, he was aware that the origin of such laws could not be explained. Why the gravitational force is the way it is continues to amaze the best scientific brains even today. Newton took a spiritual perspective alongside the material perspective. He marveled, “This most beautiful system of the sun, planets, and comets could only proceed from the counsel and dominion of an intelligent and powerful Being.” This intuition of one of the greatest scientists should inspire us to keep an open mind and welcome spiritual considerations. Śrīla Prabhupāda encouraged such a thought process. He desired that a magnificent Vedic planetarium be built in Māyāpur, showcasing the elaborate astronomical model given in the *Śrīmad-Bhagavatam*. Let us hope many modern space scientists visit this place and get inspired to know the scientific topics included in the great classic *Śrīmad-Bhagavatam*. *In this article I'm using the term *deductive* in the way Śrīla Prabhupāda used it (i.e., received from authority), rather than as the dictionary defines it: "based on deduction from accepted premises." *Giriraja Govinda Dāsa is a disciple of His Holiness Jayapataka Swami Mahārāja and a* siksa *disciple of His Holiness Bhakti Vinoda Swami. He works as a scientist in the field of digital signal processing and is interested in exploring scientific aspects of Kṛṣṇa consciousness.* ## Letters ## From One Percent to a Hundred *A little connection to Kṛṣṇa can save us from the greatest fear.* *By Nikunja Vilasini Devī Dāsī* The past year and a half in my circle of family and friends was fraught with tears and valuable lessons in the face of danger and death, but during that difficult time, a pattern emerged. Whoever was in touch with Kṛṣṇa—in whatever way—benefited from His presence in their life. Kṛṣṇa did not forsake anyone striving to come closer to Him. It all started at the deathbed of my grandmother Dayavati Devī Dāsī, as she lay in a comatose condition. I had always imagined death to be a dark, ominous creature waiting to squeeze out life's breath and rip the soul from the body. Now I saw death as a kind benefactor waiting to release my grandmother from her suffering. But was she really suffering? I remembered the past few months when death had almost taken her. Yet each time that her body collapsed in the throes of agonizing pain, her mind became sharper, her meditation on the Lord more intense. Even when she had suffered from a locked jaw and had not eaten in days, she was able to read the *Śrīmad-Bhagavatam* loudly for hours at a time without signs of weakness or fatigue. She told me that the holy name was like a soothing balm to her pain, that prayers to Lord Nrsimhadeva gave her new life, and that the words of *Śrīmad-Bhagavatam*, the spotless *Purana*, were giving her joy through her intense bodily suffering. I remembered how I had lain beside her the day before her departure, stroking her head and singing prayers to Nrsimha. She was too weak to speak or open her eyes, but as soon as she heard the song, her voice returned, and she sang along loudly. Recognizing her imminent departure, I was hopeful for her next destination as I remembered the words of the *Bhagavad-gītā* (12.6–7) in which Kṛṣṇa says that for those who have fixed their minds upon Him and have devoted their lives to Him, He is the swift deliverer from the ocean of birth and death. But now that she had lost external consciousness, I wondered, would she still be able to remember Kṛṣṇa and be delivered by His hand instead of the hand of menacing death? Would Kṛṣṇa abandon her now when she needed Him the most? All we could do was surrender to Kṛṣṇa’s plan and continue chanting His holy names, which would invoke all auspiciousness. When the chanting had reached a crescendo, my grandmother suddenly sat up, lifted her arms, and uttered Hare Kṛṣṇa as she took her final breath. Seeing the beautiful smile on her face, I remembered Kṛṣṇa’s promise in the *Bhagavad-gītā* (9.22): “Those who always worship Me with exclusive devotion, meditating on My transcendental form—to them I carry what they lack, and I preserve what they have.” *Kṛṣṇa Intervenes for His Devotee* Months later, my grandmother’s spiritual master, Śrīla Kṛṣṇa Dāsa Swami, was in a similar position, ready to leave this world after heart failure. His disciples rushed him in an ambulance to Vrindavan, which is described in the *Mathura-mahatmya* as being the perfect place to depart from this world. Living and dying in Vrindavan would secure a glorious next life in Kṛṣṇa’s own abode. But time was cheating them. Mahārāja could barely hold on after years of fighting as Śrīla Prabhupāda's spiritual warrior. Would Kṛṣṇa fulfill his final wish to die in the holy *dhama*? We celebrated with tears of joy and heartache when we heard that Mahārāja had breathed his last amid the chanting of Kṛṣṇa’s holy names just as he had entered the outskirts of Vraja-maala. Again I was encouraged by Kṛṣṇa’s intervention. He had kept to His word that His devotees will never perish. (*Gita* 9.31) But what about those who are not as fortunate, who are not able to dedicate their lives in the same way and get the same result? Are all their endeavors in vain? Lord Kṛṣṇa reminds us: “In this endeavor there is no loss or diminution, and a little advancement on this path can protect one from the most dangerous type of fear.” (*Gita* 2.40) I was soon to discover the import of these words. *Blessed Animals* One Monday morning, just before Mahārāja’s departure, we discovered that Priya, our pet cat, was missing. For days we frantically searched for her and waited to see her sweet black-and-white face in the doorway. We remembered the way she would dash across the garden when we called her name at mealtimes; the way she enjoyed her favorite *halava* *prasada*; the way she would quietly sit and listen to us chant Lord Kṛṣṇa’s names every morning. But then we discovered that Priya had been hit by a car and had died. If only we had found out earlier and had at least cremated her and given her a proper farewell, we would have been consoled. But it was not meant to be. Did Kṛṣṇa forget the *ajnata-sukrti* (unconscious spiritual advancement) she had attained in her short lifetime? I remembered the wonderful pastime of how Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu had delivered the dog of His devotee Śrī Sivananda Sena. The dog had wandered from Sivananda Sena and his traveling party that was on its way from Bengal to Jagannath Puri to meet Caitanya Mahāprabhu. When the party arrived in Mahāprabhu’s presence, the devotees saw the Lord eating some green coconut pulp and throwing the remnants to the dog. He told the dog to chant the names “Rama,” “Kṛṣṇa,” and “Hari.” As the dog began to relish the *prasada*, the merciful remnants of the Lord, he danced and chanted in bliss. The devotees were astounded. The next day they discovered that the dog had assumed a spiritual form and had gone to the Lord’s spiritual realm. We were reminded of the glorious effects of *maha-prasada* and the holy name when, two weeks later, my daughter had a dream. Priya appeared to her as a beautiful girl with black hair and thanked her for all we had done for her. Whatever the dream meant, we were comforted and reassured that Kṛṣṇa had given her better opportunities to progress in the next life. *Spiritual Efforts Preserved Forever* My mind immediately drifted to all those devotees who had died in recent years—through terminal disease, numerous horrifying crimes in our country, and horrendous accidents. Surely Kṛṣṇa has protected all these devotees who had been endeavoring for spiritual perfection. Even though He may or may not protect the material body, He protects the soul from its ensnarement in illusory happiness, from its wandering further from Him, and ultimately from repeated birth and death. These devotees’ spiritual journeys would continue from where they had left off. Sometimes a devotee’s advancement is accelerated in the last moments of life, opening the door to the spiritual world. Whatever the case, the results of spiritual efforts are never lost, unlike material efforts, which are thwarted by failure. Śrīla Prabhupāda explains that if you end this life with one percent of effort towards Kṛṣṇa, you begin in the next life from two percent. It is a continuous progression of consciousness until, by Kṛṣṇa's help and reciprocation, we reach a hundred percent—when we are finally in Kṛṣṇa's loving embrace in His spiritual abode. But what about those who are not directly linked to Kṛṣṇa, who are connected to Him through others or through family members? Does Kṛṣṇa reciprocate with them too? *Fortunate Father of a Devotee Son* About a month ago we received a call that my father-in-law had collapsed in his home and had died from a heart attack. My husband rushed to Portugal for the funeral, regretting that he had not seen his father before his death and had not helped him more in his final days. My father-in-law had no contact with Kṛṣṇa and spiritual practices except through us. He had always lived alone in the Portuguese countryside with his dogs as his only companions. In his young days, when his son wanted to leave work at his printing press to join Śrīla Prabhupāda’s movement, he readily agreed. And when the devotees had asked him to print Śrīla Prabhupāda’s books in Portuguese, he eagerly served. And now, more than thirty years later, when it was time for him to leave this world, he was surrounded by old paintings of Kṛṣṇa and framed renditions of the mahā-mantra that he had kept for us. The *Bhagavad-gītā* in Portuguese, although apparently untouched, sat nearby on his table. Surely the Lord did not forget his small service. As my husband mourned his father's passing, Giriraja Swami, our spiritual master, reminded us of Kṛṣṇa’s kindness by referring us to the following conversation (July 5, 1975, Chicago): Disciple (1): We are giving these books to so many common men. Then the books will perhaps attract them to chanting and following the regulative principles. Prabhupāda: Yes, if they read. Even if they touch. That is the difference between this book and an ordinary book. Even if they touch and they read one line. If he says, “Oh, it is very nice,” he makes a step forward. If he simply says this word, “Oh, it is very nice,” that is sufficient to bring him. . . . Therefore we are trying to push. At least let him say, “It is very nice.” Kartikeya's mother—practical experience. Kartikeya, when he used to go to see his mother, she used to go out. The same mother gradually, in the association of her son, became Kṛṣṇa conscious. So at the time of death she asked Kartikeya, “Is your Kṛṣṇa here?” and she died immediately. This is the effect. . . . She remembered Kṛṣṇa, so her life was successful. . . . So she got the benefit of her son's Kṛṣṇa consciousness. . . . So all the mothers of my disciples, they will get salvation because she has got a nice son. . . . Disciple (2): What about the fathers? Prabhupāda: Father also. Both the father and mother. Because they are the father and mother of a Vaisnava devotee, so they will be taken special care of. You'll find from Prahlada Mahārāja's description, even a father like Hirayakasipu, he got salvation because Prahlada was his son. Disciple (3): Śrīla Prabhupāda, it seems strange that so many parents who are engaged in meat-eating and illicit sex and intoxication and gambling could have a son who would become a Vaisnava. Prabhupāda: Therefore they will get the advantage of the son. Somehow or other they have produced a son, Vaisnava, so the son's activities will react upon the life of the parents. Because naturally the sons think of the father and mother, that is beneficial for them. However one may be renounced, he cannot get be rid of family affection. That is natural. So the Vaisnava son sometimes thinks of the father and mother. So they are getting the benefit. Śrīla Prabhupāda’s words lightened our sorrow and deepened our hope and faith. Later my father-in-law’s ashes were immersed in the holy Yamuna River in Vrindavan, and thus he received blessings for his onward journey. *Given More Time* A few days ago, Kṛṣṇa again showed us His kindness, demonstrating that He takes special care of those who turn to Him. My sister Yamuna Devī Dāsī had thought she was staring death in the face when she suddenly had severe chest pains. Knowing that she would pass out, she cried out to the Lord, chanting His holy names. She placed a Deity of Lord Nṛsiṁhadeva on her chest, ready to leave her body, and then lost consciousness. Our dad, who arrived on the scene just in time, desperately did CPR to revive her, pleading to the Lord to save her. But her body was already cold and her pulse too faint to recognize. He tried over and over again to resuscitate her until finally she coughed and regained consciousness. When I reflect on this incident, I see how Kṛṣṇa sometimes pushes us to increase our taking shelter of Him. He doesn’t calculate spiritual advancement by material means. In fact, when we take ten steps towards Him, He takes twenty towards us. As a result, my sister doesn’t see life the same way now. “Facing death and coming back changes you forever," she told us. "I see life for this moment and not for tomorrow. I judge no one and expect nothing. I see life as to live and love for now and that all of us are beautiful beings of Kṛṣṇa. When death stares you in the face, resentment and fear disappear, and all you see is that you wish you had the chance for a single moment again, and I have that now. I see this incident as a miracle that created wonderful realizations for us all. Such is the beauty of life and the mercy of *guru* and Kṛṣṇa.” Kṛṣṇa showed us that if He saves the material body, it is meant for a purpose too—it is meant for us to take many more steps towards Him and not risk getting another life in mundane consciousness. We see Śrīla Prabhupāda validating this point in the following excerpt from *TKG Memories, Volume 2 (*2005), a compendium of recollections about Tamal Kṛṣṇa Goswami. Under the heading "Conveyor of Prabhupāda's Encouragement," an unidentified devotee is speaking: In the early days in Los Angeles, before the devotees moved to Watseka Avenue, they were staying in a little church on La Cienega Boulevard. Tamal Kṛṣṇa Goswami was the temple president, and he was always eager to pass on inspiration and encouragement from Śrīla Prabhupāda. One day he said, “Prabhus, Śrīla Prabhupāda just said that we should go back to Godhead in this lifetime. We should not waste another birth. We should finish it up now. However, if we need more time, Kṛṣṇa will add more years to our life. If we are sincere and serious, Kṛṣṇa will add more years to our life so we can finish it in this very lifetime." *Kṛṣṇa Fans a Spark* But Kṛṣṇa’s mercy doesn’t stop there. He even reciprocates with those who have a small interest in Him. This morning our twelve-year-old neighbor friend, Kaydi, knocked on our door. She hadn’t come to eat her favorite *prasada* or offer our Kṛṣṇa Deity new flowers from her garden. She hands me an obituary booklet with her aunt’s picture on the cover. Her favorite aunt has just died from cancer, and Kaydi is still distraught after returning from the funeral yesterday. I read the obituary messages in Afrikaans. They are full of heartfelt appreciations and touching remembrances of someone dearly loved. I place her aunt’s picture on our altar under the Deities of Rādhā-Syamasundara and Giriraja Govardhana, right next to my father-in-law’s. Kaydi’s face lights up like a hundred stars. She knows that Kṛṣṇa’s blessings are meant for everyone. I bid her farewell, telling her that we’ll offer a lamp to Kṛṣṇa tonight on her aunt’s behalf. As I glance at the altar pictures of those who have recently left us, and as I watch our new dachshund puppy scampering for *prasada* biscuits in the garden, I marvel at how there is no loss in even a small awakening of spiritual consciousness—even a small connection to Kṛṣṇa will save us when it matters most. *Nikunja Vilasini Devī Dāsī (Nirvana Kasopersad) is a disciple of Giriraja Swami and is from Durban, South Africa. She is married, has two children, and works as a freelance writer and editor.* ## The Uniqueness of Transcendental Hunger *By Osho Raman* *It is up to us to decide which cuisine we want to feast on.* To relish dream delicacies is a fantasy that most fascinates the tongue. Even a flash of the thought of, say, fragrant fried rice layered with chunks of *paneer* and fresh peas, mingled in a rich, seductive, creamy tomato sauce with a sublime coriander garnish, set out exquisitely on an elegant plate, instantly renders one’s tongue salivating, belly hungering, and mind becoming restless. Now consider having an actual experience of being served such a plate. You will pounce on it in no time. *A Contemplation Worth Contemplating* Clearly, to have one’s hunger satisfied means to have successfully accessed and enjoyed the object of one's hunger. But to have one’s hunger satisfied also means to have one’s longing for the object of the hunger nullified. The *Śrīmad-Bhagavatam* (7.5.30) boldly defines this nature of material enjoyment as *punaḥ punaś carvita-carvaṇānām.* That is, trying to enjoy material pleasures is like repeatedly chewing what has already been chewed. Suppose in the scenario cited above, the server enthusiastically asks you, “Would you like more? There's an unlimited banquet available especially for you.” Having feasted enough, you cry, “No, please! My hunger is satisfied. I've had enough. I'm done. I beg you, please don't serve me any more food!” Hence, having one’s dire hunger for the alluring delicacy satisfied, the very next moment one astonishingly despises the very same object of hunger. This is the nature of material hunger. Once satisfied, one’s material hunger no longer longs for the very same object of hunger thereafter. Why does one finally say, "I've had enough"? Because the pleasures derived from the material sense objects, for which one heavily salivates initially, gradually fade with time, and then finally fade away completely. Consequently, to try to further enjoy the material sense objects is "chewing the chewed." Material pleasures are limited by nature and at some point fail to offer further pleasure. "Is there any way I can enjoy unlimited, unending pleasure?" Yes, the science of Kṛṣṇa consciousness awakens a special type of hunger called “transcendental hunger,” the hunger for an object capable of furnishing unlimited, unending pleasure. *The Heart's Innate Hunger* The *Bhagavad-gītā* (7.7) nourishes our intelligence with the highest education—that the highest, everlasting, factual reality is Kṛṣṇa. As loving parts of the supreme reality, Kṛṣṇa (15.7), as pure spirit souls, we are meant to delight in everlasting happiness at its perfection (*Vedanta-sutra* 1.1.12). Our heart’s deepest hunger for that supremely fulfilling everlasting happiness will be satisfied only by rendering everlasting loving service to the everlasting reality, Kṛṣṇa. Transcendental hunger is essentially this deepest hunger of one's heart, i.e., the deepest innate hunger for loving and serving Kṛṣṇa. The process to express our love and service to Kṛṣṇa is easy and joyful, as confirmed by Kṛṣṇa Himself (*Gita* 9.2). One can do so by soaking one's consciousness in the foundational process of hearing and chanting the pure and purifying glories of Kṛṣṇa’s name, fame, qualities and pastimes (*Bhagavatam* 7.5.23–24), henceforth dwelling deep within the nectarean happiness of pleasing Kṛṣṇa. Essentially, the object of one’s transcendental hunger is this unique nectarean, everlasting happiness. *Kṛṣṇa's Boundless Sweetness* The *Brahma-saṁhitā* (5.32) expounds Kṛṣṇa’s defining characteristic as *ananda-cinmaya-sad-ujjvala-vigrahasya*: "His form is full of bliss, truth, and substantiality, and is thus full of the most dazzling splendor." In fact, everything in relation to Kṛṣṇa is so sweet (*madhuram*) that once the "tongue" that is our heart gets to relish His sweetness, that tongue just can’t help but voraciously salivate for more. Unlike one's material hunger, which gradually gets satiated and mitigated in proportion to each morsel of the paneer-rice dish, one's transcendental hunger gets further aggravated with every morsel of Kṛṣṇa's sweetness. This is the uniqueness of transcendental hunger. Everything about Kṛṣṇa is everlastingly both fresh and sweet and thus has the special capacity to everlastingly offer us unlimited pleasure. Once experienced and relished, that supremely intoxicating bliss renders one's heart helplessly addicted to continue demanding it more and more. *The Oceanic Pleasure-sauce of Kṛṣṇa's and His Devotees' Glories* This ever-increasing transcendental hunger is sustained by dissatisfaction derived from satisfaction. For example, when a bona fide devotee tells of Kṛṣṇa's pastime with His dear school friend Sudama, one hears how despite being the esteemed ruler of Dwarka, Kṛṣṇa humbly bent down and washed the feet of His poor friend Sudama out of pure love (*Bhagavatam* 10.80.20). One thus derives immense joy at hearing of Kṛṣṇa's astounding humility, love, and renunciation. And one delights in realizing how glorious Kṛṣṇa's devotee Sudama is, for the supreme reality, Kṛṣṇa, is so bound by Sudama's pure love that He is compelled to bend down and wash Sudama's feet. Thus hearing Kṛṣṇa's and Kṛṣṇa's devotees' nectarian pastimes, one gains the glorious opportunity to rejoice in the profound dynamics of pure love and selflessness flowing and floating in those pastimes. One can then feast on the sweetness and purity of the pure services exchanged between Kṛṣṇa and His pure devotees, services garnished with the infused nuggets of pure love and selflessness. The resulting joy renders such sublime satisfaction that one cannot resist hearing more and more about Kṛṣṇa. Consequently, one feels dissatisfied if unable to hear more about Him. Hence the satisfaction derived from hearing about Kṛṣṇa becomes the source of dissatisfaction, and to mitigate that dissatisfaction one wants to hear more about Kṛṣṇa. The cycle continues, and one everlastingly rejoices in his ever-increasing transcendental hunger. *Aggravated Transcendental Hunger* This is the uniqueness of our heart’s innate transcendental hunger: it can never be satisfied. Once tasted, Kṛṣṇa’s everlasting sweetness is irresistible. One can never say, "Thank you. My heart's innate transcendental hunger is now satisfied. I am done with it. I no longer long for Kṛṣṇa. I beg of you, please—no more of Kṛṣṇa’s love!" Transcendental hunger for Kṛṣṇa compels pure devotees to breathtakingly long for hearing and chanting His name, fame, qualities, and pastimes ad infinitum (*Gita* 9.14). *One Tongue and Two Ears Not Enough* "Are there real-life examples to prove these points?" Yes, there are many. Caitanya Mahāprabhu's disciple Rupa Gosvami was an erudite scholar and an inspirationally staunch Kṛṣṇa conscious devotee. He relished the boundless sweetness from hearing and chanting Kṛṣṇa's sweet holy names. In his Vidagdha-madhava, he intensely craves millions of tongues and ears to relish that sweetness. Pariksit Mahārāja, another staunch Kṛṣṇa devotee, dove into the magnanimous sweetness of hearing the magnificent Vedic literature Śrīmad-Bhagavatam. He heard it continuously for the last seven days of his life, fasting from food and water. Throughout its recitation, he desperately begged to be able to hear it more and more. *Kṛṣṇa's Sweetness Tasted by Kṛṣṇa's Sweet Mercy* One final question may arise: "How to unlock, access, taste, and relish that supreme sweetness of Kṛṣṇa's boundless love?" The Nectar of Instruction mercifully reveals the answer, just as a waiter might render guidelines on how to best realize and relish the flavors captured in the delicacy being served. In verse seven it says that Kṛṣṇa's holy name, character, pastimes, and activities are all "transcendentally sweet like sugar candy." Why then can't everyone taste that supreme sweetness? Because we are afflicted by the jaundice of avidya (ignorance). Essentially, because of ignorance, our diseased tongue salivates only for material sense objects in general and material delicacies in particular. It consequently fantasizes about diving deep into the inferior tomato sauce of material delicacies, being completely ignorant of the incomparable oceanic relish encapsulated in the superior pleasure sauce of Kṛṣṇa's boundless sweet love. The verse then mercifully shines a ray of hope by educating us about the easy prescription to cure the tongue's disease: by carefully chanting Kṛṣṇa's sweet holy names regularly, a natural relish awakens within one's tongue, and one's disease of ignorance is gradually destroyed at the root, by Kṛṣṇa's mercy. Having thus reawakened and reactivated its potency to taste and relish the supreme flavor of Kṛṣṇa, one's tongue then realizes that all the material sense objects are absolutely tasteless and inferior in comparison to Kṛṣṇa's supremely relishable sweetness (*Gita* 2.59). *Decide Which Cuisine You Want* The *Bhagavad-gītā* (10.41) further nourishes our intelligence by giving knowledge of the ultimate source of all tongue-charming delicacies, Kṛṣṇa. By revealing that everything opulent, beautiful, and glorious (*yad yad vibhutimat sattva Srimad urjitam eva va*) has originally sprung from a spark of Kṛṣṇa's splendor (*mama tejo-’sa-sambhavam*), the Gita encourages us to redirect our search for all the opulences, beauty, and glory to their original source, Kṛṣṇa. This can be understood as follows. Anything within the arena of our experience or imagination that we conceive of as opulent, beautiful, or glorious, even the alluring paneer-peas-rice delicacy, offers a few tiny droplets of pleasure, delight, and relish only because it has inherited its minute, limited pleasure-giving capacity from the everlasting boundless ocean of unlimited pleasure, Kṛṣṇa. Hence a dazzling coriander garnishing spellbinds one's eyes because it has inherited its minute spellbinding capacity from its supremely spellbinding source, Kṛṣṇa. The material sources of infinitesimal pleasure thus silently echo the existence of their original source, Kṛṣṇa, the spiritual source of infinite pleasure. A bowl of the limitedly relishable *paneer* and peas thus points to Kṛṣṇa, the original supreme reservoir of unbounded relish. The explicit use of the word evavagaccha ("certainly know") in *Gita* 10.41 serves to draw our focus, attention, and consciousness towards this fact of life. Desiring and impelling us to "certainly know" that Kṛṣṇa is the original source of all that charms and mesmerizes our mind and senses, the verse thus motivates us to reconsider and reformulate our pursuit of pleasure and happiness, from the droplets-like pleasure-giving material sense objects to their original oceanic source, Kṛṣṇa. Kṛṣṇa, being the sole original eternal means of fulfilling the heart's deepest hunger for pure pleasure at its perfection, is factually the heart's final goal (*Gita* 15.15). Unless this goal is aspired for and realized, one's heart is bound to be helplessly lost in its perpetual pursuit of perfect pleasure in the deluding material sources of imperfect, insignificant, inferior pleasure, rather than in its original source, Kṛṣṇa. Food, clothing, and shelter are the core needs of the body, while pleasing Kṛṣṇa is the core need of the conscious living entity residing within that body. Both kinds of need must be attended to. The process of pleasing Kṛṣṇa rests on the foundation of the supremely pleasurable service of hearing and chanting about Him and His devotees, under the guidance of a bona fide practitioner of the science of Kṛṣṇa consciousness. The *Gita* (10.41) hence encourages us to not end up getting hooked on running after the inferior paneer-peas-rice of seductive material sense objects. Erroneously considering them to be all in all, we unfortunately deprive ourselves of the real superior pleasure-sauce of their original oceanic source, Kṛṣṇa. The Gita's wisdom uplifts our consciousness to allow our intelligence to choose to delight and relish in the ecstatic bliss of hearing and chanting about Kṛṣṇa and Kṛṣṇa's devotees. Paradoxically, we can feast on our hunger—on the supremely satisfying dynamics of our heart's innate transcendental hunger to love, serve, and please Kṛṣṇa. The *Gita* (7.3) encourages and inspires us to be one of those rare intelligent human beings who aspire for pleasure at its perfection. And *Gita* 10.41 offers us a restaurant menu-card, allowing us the free will to choose from two food options. Option one is inferior, short-lived material sense objects, and option two is everlasting transcendental sweet love for Kṛṣṇa. The cost of option one is exhausting hard work in, say, academics or a job, and the cost of option two is the easy process of the daily attentive chanting and hearing of Kṛṣṇa's sweet holy names under the guidance of a bona fide practitioner of the science of Kṛṣṇa consciousness. It is up to us to be intelligent enough to decide which cuisine we want to feast on. *Osho Raman serves at the Remuna Yoga Center in Rourkela, Odisha. The Center, a youth-outreach project run by Radhesyama Dāsa, temple president of ISKCON Pune, is a spiritual hostel for practicing devotees, mostly engineering students from the National Institute of Technology Rourkela.* ## Many Gods or One? Five Prominent Deities and Their Universal Meaning *By Satyaraja Dāsa* *Is Kṛṣṇa consciousness polytheistic? A discussion of* pancopasana *provides a clear answer that also helps us understand all religions.* At first blush, Vaiṣṇavism may seem polytheistic, given the various gods associated with the Vedic pantheon. But if we look slightly beneath the surface, we see there is more to this so-called polytheism than meets the eye. The concept of monotheism—that there is only one God—tends to be associated with the Abrahamic religions (Judaism, Christianity, and Islam), but it is found elsewhere as well. So the first point to be acknowledged is that monotheism is more pervasive than is commonly understood. Also, due to monotheism’s association with biblical religion, it is often seen as necessarily opposed to pantheistic and polytheistic points of view. But all is not so simple. In fact, monotheism overlaps with Indic monism—the idea that everything is, in some sense, God. And standard monotheistic religions too sometimes include a plurality of “gods.” For example, certain Christian groups see God as the Trinity, or three eternal persons—the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. In this way both pantheism and polytheism sometimes interpenetrate monotheism, and vice versa. Indeed, the following Vedic aphorism is sometimes recommended as a meditation for all who wish to understand such higher realities: “Truth is one, though the wise refer to it in various ways.” (*Rg Veda* 1.164.46) This verse, found in one of the world's oldest religious scriptures, hints at the mystery and diversity of Kṛṣṇa consciousness. Since its focus is “the one and the many,” it overlaps with ideas of monotheism and polytheism, and it should be explored in terms of our present discussion. Just prior to this verse, one may note, the *Rg* *Veda* praises an exotic pantheon of gods, and only then are we told that God, or Truth, is ultimately one, though known variously. What does this mean? It points to a monotheistic idea of Deity, surely, but to what else? And how does it relate to the Vaisnava tradition, with its many gods and goddesses? People know that adherents of Indian religions believe in many divinities—Brahma, Viṣṇu, Siva, the Goddess, and so on—and because of this the overall tradition is commonly understood to be polytheistic. Yet it simultaneously acknowledges the existence of one supreme God, known as Bhagavan (All-Opulent One), Paramatma (Supreme Self), Paramesvara (Supreme Controller), and so on. The philosophy of Kṛṣṇa consciousness agrees that God is one, but adds that He is many as well. God reveals Himself in innumerable forms and shapes and further expands into lesser divinities, and even into the entire perceivable world. This hierarchical series of divine manifestations, of spiritual separateness as opposed to oneness, is often neglected in Western scholarship (and even within modern-day Hinduism), where it is generally taught that these manifestations are all the same and somehow coalesce in a higher reality. When people born in the West are confronted with Kṛṣṇa consciousness, or even Hinduism in general with its many “gods,” their minds generally resort to preconceived notions of polytheism in non-Abrahamic cultures worldwide. The idea of one Supreme Godhead appears very far away, and reconciliation seems impossible. What most people don’t know is that the various religious traditions of the world can be categorized within the divisions of *pancopasana*, or the worship of five types of gods: Durga, Surya, Ganesa, Siva, and Viṣṇu. These five represent all the rest, and there are millions. It is this hierarchical categorization that we will explore in the remainder of this essay. *Five Primary Gods* The five primary gods of *pancopasana* and their numerous variations may be seen in three ways. First, they are alternate faces of one absolute reality who assist in the administration of the universe. Second, in this service they are separate beings performing cosmic functions. Third, they also represent categories of religious practice that indicate specific levels of spiritual understanding, as mentioned above. This third, lesser-known perspective was the insight of Śrīla Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura (1838–1914),1 the great nineteenth-century Vaisnava reformer. His view of Indic polytheism and how it interrelates with the standard monotheistic traditions with which we are more familiar is enlightening. According to Śrīla Bhaktivinoda, the initial quest for spirit, or Brahman, is a form of **sakta*-dharma* (worship of *sakti*, or energy), for it recognizes nature as divine. For the *sakta*, “There is more to what we see than meets the eye.” Mother Nature is alive and fundamentally spiritual. In its most basic form, **sakta*-dharma* consists of worshiping *prakṛti*, or material nature, but it can develop to the more sophisticated forms of Durga worship existing in India from time immemorial. Nonetheless, it is still a rudimentary form of spiritual awareness, with practitioners often still given to meat-eating and other low-grade materialistic activities. It is a beginning, a dawning of spiritual awareness. Śrīla Bhaktivinoda writes, “The practices of saktism are fit to give rise to the first transcendental aspirations of man. People engrossed in sensual development and apathetic towards seeking the Absolute Truth may be enticed by the practices and way of life of a *sakta*, and in this way may be drawn closer to the highest object of life.” When one’s spiritual inclinations mature, one understands that there is heat at the center of all we see, feel, taste, touch, and smell. The sun (Surya) gives us life, nurturing us with warmth and light. Our digestion is a kind of fire that ignites our bodies with gusto, allowing us to move about in the world. This is *saura-dharma*. According to Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura, “When God consciousness grows stronger, the realization that heat is the preeminent power effecting all activities in the material world comes, and one rises to the second stage: the worship of the source of all heat, the sun (Suryadeva).” After this one realizes that even this magnificent energy, great though it may be, is still just a mundane force, generated from and subsisting in the material world. Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura calls this higher realization *ganapatya-dharma*, wherein one realizes that living beings hold the secret to higher spiritual reality. At this stage, an awareness evolves that animated living entities are more important than energetic abstractions, and gods such as Ganesa and other creatures of nature rise to prominence as the object of one’s worship. Such realization often manifests itself as the first seeds of humanism. But this evolves further, and one realizes that all creatures reach their pinnacle in man. As Śrīla Bhaktivinoda writes, “The fourth stage is the worship of purely human consciousness in the form of Siva—*saiva-dharma*.” Here one looks for an empowered personality, a more humanlike divinity with whom one can identify. The idea of becoming one with this divine embodiment becomes desirable, and spirituality here consists of “unitary recognition”—seeing one’s identity with all that is and with the Supreme. In this way *saiva-dharma* puts forward a nontheistic spirituality, often focusing on monism, or even enhanced humanism, if with definite spiritual underpinnings. Thus the *saiva-dharma* level of spirituality affords one a glimpse into the actual nature of the divine. But there is a higher reality still. Śrīla Bhaktivinoda reveals the culmination of the spiritual quest: “Coming to the fifth stage, an individual particle of consciousness—*jiva* (the soul)—serves the Personality of Supreme Consciousness. This stage is called *Vaisnava-dharma*, or Vaiṣṇavism.” He further informs us that all of the world’s major religions fall into one of these five categories, and that this is what *pancopasana*, or the worship of various “Hindu gods," is really all about. *Examples Around the World* Pantheism, Shamanism, Neopaganism, Gaianism, Shintoism, Goddess worship, Earth religion, and most folk religions are in the category of *sakta-dharma*, as such traditions essentially recognize the divine in nature. Solar religion, or various manifestations of *saura-dharma*, was popular in many ancient cultures, from India to Egypt, and still is. The earliest Deities associated with the sun are Surya, Wadjet, Sekhmet, Hathor, Bast, Bat, and Menhit. The Aztecs of Mexico, as well as certain tribes of Africa, made sun worship famous. Ganesa worship is an in-between stage, not as basic as *sakta-dharma* and *saura-dharma*, but not yet theism proper. This level of realization can be found throughout the world as well, often in the form of humanism, wherein a spark of divinity is detected in one’s fellow man. It is the seed of divine awareness and reaches its most mature form, Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura writes, in religions like Buddhism and Jainism, for they are akin to *saiva-dharma*, with a greater emphasis on psychological empowerment and fully awakened humanism, along with a type of philosophical monism. Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, he further explains, are similar to Vaiṣṇavism, since worship of the Supreme Godhead is the focus of these traditions. Yet Śrīla Bhaktivinoda is quick to point out that there is a “mundane” Vaiṣṇavism and a “spiritual” Vaiṣṇavism as well. The first is called *bhar-avahi* (“those who carry the burden of external rituals”), and the second is called *saragrahi* (“those who drink the essence”). It is this latter form of Vaiṣṇavism, naturally, that is lauded as the culmination of the religious quest. The former is merely a variety of Hinduism, on a par with other sectarian religions. *Saragrahi* Vaiṣṇavism is the eternal function of the soul and the science of spirituality, and it is this that the great spiritual masters throughout history have encouraged devotees to embrace. *Reaching Maturity in Kṛṣṇa* Śrīla Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura sums up *pancopasana*: Therefore, those who are simply astonished by the powers of anything in the creation of the Lord, without any factual information of the Lord Himself, are known as **sakta*s*, or worshipers of the great powers. The modern scientist is also captivated by the wonderful actions and reactions of natural phenomena and therefore is also a type of *sakta*. These lower-grade persons gradually rise to become *sauriyas* (worshipers of the sun-god) or *ganapatyas* (worshipers of the mass of people as *janata janardana* or *daridra-Narayana* and so on, in the form of Ganapati) and then rise to the platform of worshiping Lord Siva in search of the ever-existing soul and its identity with the Lord. After this one may graduate to the stage of worshiping Lord Viṣṇu, the Supersoul, whose highest form is that of Lord Kṛṣṇa. To highlight Kṛṣṇa’s supremacy and indicate the secondary status of the demigods, Lord Brahma, who creates the material cosmos on behalf of Lord Viṣṇu, composed the treatise known as the *Brahma-saṁhitā*. The Gaudiya Vaisnava *acarya* Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvati Ṭhākura, the son of Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura, writes in his commentary on this great work: The *Brahma-saṁhitā* has refuted *pancopasana*. . . . The worship of Viṣṇu as found in *pancopasana* does not please Viṣṇu; it is heterodox and highly improper. . . . The worship of Viṣṇu as one of the five Deities makes His highest dignity, which is without any equal, similar to that of the other Deities, and [in that system] His Lordship is counted as one of several Deities, which is a great spiritual offense. . . . It is the eternal duty of all *jivas* to serve Kṛṣṇa, the Lord of all lords. All other Deities are His servitors. Their function is only to carry out His commands. They will never acquire liberation who conceive of the Deities as the different names and bodies of Viṣṇu instead of knowing them as His servitors. Thus five *slokas* [verses] of the *Brahma-saṁhitā* have described the natures of the five Deities. . . .: (1) “I (i.e., Brahma) adore the primeval Lord Govinda [Kṛṣṇa], in pursuance of whose order the sun-god [Surya], the king of the planets and the eye of this world, performs his journey, mounting the wheel of time. (2) I adore the primeval Lord Govinda, whose lotuslike feet are always held by Ganesa on his head in order to obtain power for his function of destroying all the obstacles of the three worlds. (3) I adore the primeval Lord Govinda, in accordance with whose will Durga, His external potency, conducts her function as the creating, preserving, and destroying agent of the world. (4) I adore the primeval Lord Govinda, who transforms Himself as Sambhu [Siva] for performing the work of destruction, just as milk is transformed into curd, which is neither the same as, nor different from, milk. (5) I adore the primeval Lord Govinda, who manifests Himself as Viṣṇu in the same manner as one burning candle communicates its light to another candle which, though existing separately, is of the same quality as the first."2 The many gods associated with Kṛṣṇa consciousness are individual living beings in their own right. They are cosmic administrators, and they have an accessible, down-to-earth function as representatives of universal religious categories. Through Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura’s lens, they offer a hierarchical understanding of how one gradually evolves in consciousness from the dawn of spiritual awakening to the perfection of spiritual life. *NOTES* 1. All quotations from Śrīla Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura in this article are from the essay "Śrī Bhagavata Dharma Vichar." The ideas first appeared in his book *Śrī Kṛṣṇa-samhita* (Calcutta: Isvarchandra Basu, 1879), pp. 7–8. 2. Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvati here quotes his own commentary on the *Brahma-saṁhitā* while replying to questions by Pandit Shyamasundar Chakravarty, a leader in India's independence movement. The exchange was published in *The Harmonist*. *Satyaraja Dāsa, a disciple of Śrīla Prabhupāda, is a BTG associate editor and founding editor of the* Journal of Vaishnava Studies. *He has written more than thirty books on Kṛṣṇa consciousness and lives near New York City.* Founder's Lecture: Action Without Reaction *Founder-Acarya of the International Society for Krishna Consciousness New Delhi—November 3, 1973* *Lord Kṛṣṇa reveals the secret to escaping the bondage of karma.* > yajñārthāt karmaṇo 'nyatra > loko 'yaṁ karma-bandhanaḥ > tad-arthaṁ karma kaunteya > mukta-saṅgaḥ samācara "Work done as a sacrifice for Viṣṇu has to be performed; otherwise work causes bondage in this material world. Therefore, O son of Kunti, perform your prescribed duties for His satisfaction, and in that way you will always remain free from bondage." —*Bhagavad-gītā* 3.9 God has various names, and one of them is Yajna-pati, "the Lord of *yajna*, sacrifice." You have to act for *yajna*. The example is that a soldier is fighting and killing many enemies, but he is not responsible for killing. The same man, when he is not fighting for the country or for the government, if he kills one man he is hanged. Because he is fighting or killing on the order of higher authority, the government, he is not responsible for all those killings. Rather, sometimes he is recognized by receiving a medal: "Oh, you have killed so many enemies. Very good." But if he kills outside the war field, at home, he will be hanged. If he argues in the court, "In the battlefield I killed so many enemies, and I was given recognition. But at home I have killed only one enemy, and for that I am going to be hanged. What is this law?" this argument will not stay. If you do something under higher authority's order, you are not responsible. Take Arjuna, for example. In the beginning he was not willing to fight. He was considering in terms of his personal satisfaction. But later on, the same Arjuna wanted to satisfy Kṛṣṇa, and he fought and became a great devotee. This is the secret of all activities. We are all part and parcel of the Supreme Lord; therefore our business is to act in such a way that He is satisfied. That is the success of life. That is described in the *Śrīmad-Bhagavatam* (1.2.13): > ataḥ pumbhir dvija-śreṣṭhā > varṇāśrama-vibhāgaśaḥ > svanuṣṭhitasya dharmasya > saṁsiddhir hari-toṣaṇam "O best among the twice-born, it is therefore concluded that the highest perfection one can achieve by discharging the duties prescribed for one's own occupation according to caste divisions and orders of life is to please the Personality of Godhead." This was spoken by Suta Gosvami in the assembly of great saintly persons and *brahmanas*. He addressed the *brahmanas* as *dvija-sreha*, "the best of the *brahmanas*." He was especially addressing the *brahmanas*. Unless one has attained the brahminical qualifications, it is very difficult to understand what spiritual life is, what spiritual success is. That is explained in the *Bhagavad-gītā* (18.54): > brahma-bhūtaḥ prasannātmā > na śocati na kāṅkṣati > samaḥ sarveṣu bhūteṣu > mad-bhaktiṁ labhate parām "One who is thus transcendentally situated at once realizes the Supreme Brahman and becomes fully joyful. He never laments or desires to have anything. He is equally disposed toward every living entity. In that state he attains pure devotional service unto Me." Brahman realization means understanding "I am not this body; I am spirit soul, part and parcel of God." When we understand this position, then we are liberated from the reactions of *karma*, or material activities. "The best of the **brahmana*s*" means the Kṛṣṇa conscious person, one who knows the Supreme Personality of Godhead. A *brahmana* is one who can distinguish spirit from matter. Brahma janati iti *brahmana*. But when he understands the Supreme Brahman—Para-brahman, Kṛṣṇa—then he actually becomes a *brahmana* Vaisnava. A *brahmana* should advance further to become a Vaisnava. Therefore one who is a Vaisnava is already a *brahmana*. This is to be understood. *Social and Spiritual Divisions* In human society there should be divisions of work. Activities for the most intellectual persons are called the *brahmana* division. The activities of the politicians and administrators are called the *kṣatriya* division. The activities of the mercantile people are called the *vaisya* division. And ordinary workers who get some salary for serving the master are called *sudras*. In this way everybody has his duty. The *brahmana* has his duty, the *kṣatriya* has his duty, the *vaisya* has his duty, and the *sudras* have their duty. Similarly, the *brahmacari*, celibate student, has his duty; the *ghasthas*, householders, have their duties; the *vanaprasthas*, retired persons, have their duties; and the *sannyasis*, those in the renounced order of life, have their duties. The first division is called *vara*: *brahmana*, *ksatriya*, *vaisya*, *sudra*. And the second division is called *asrama*. Vedic civilization means *vara* and *asrama*—human society divided into *vara*s and *asrama*s. Everyone has his particular duty. And the consideration of whether you are perfect in discharging your duty is whether you have satisfied the Supreme Personality of Godhead by your duty. It is very easy to understand. In any office or any place, there is the supreme man. In big, big offices there is a record of one's service. What kind of service an employee is rendering to the establishment or to the government is recorded, and he is recognized. So this is the system in our ordinary life. Similarly, everyone has to do something, even for keeping the body and soul together. But after doing something, the activities should be tested by whether the Supreme Lord is satisfied by such activities. If the Supreme Lord is satisfied, then one is freed from the reactions to those activities. There are two kinds of reaction for every activity, pious or impious. Both pious and impious activities bind us under the law of *karma*. But above pious or impious activities is another activity, called devotional activity. If one performs devotional activities, he is above the control of this material nature. The material nature is being controlled by three qualities: *sattva-guna, rajo-guna*, *tamo-guna*—goodness, passion, and ignorance. But one who acts for the Supreme Personality of Godhead becomes freed from the reaction of these qualities. That is called *karmay akarma*. Although a devotee is seen to be very active, his activities are not like material activity, which produces either a pious result or an impious result. Both of them—pious and impious—are bondage. If we become bound by pious or impious activities, then we'll have to accept another material body. That is called *karma-bandhana*. And as soon as you accept a material body, you are under the laws of material nature, especially birth, death, old age, and disease. You become bound up. Therefore this human form of life is especially meant to get freedom from this bondage of birth, death, disease, and old age. *Like Animals Being Led to Slaughter* People do not understand this. Their brains are so packed up with material things that they have become just like animals. They cannot understand. But unless one understands the spiritual significance of life, he is just like an animal. *Sastra*, Vedic scripture, has said *go-*khara**. **Go*-*khara** means animal. *Go* means cow, and *khara* means ass. Anyone who is acting in the bodily concept of life, without any spiritual understanding, is no better than an animal. But he is satisfied. The animal is being sent to the slaughterhouse, but still he is satisfied. He does not know that "I am going to be slaughtered. I am going with this herd, but I am simply waiting to be slaughtered." As the animals are being slaughtered, so everyone without spiritual consciousness, without Kṛṣṇa consciousness, is to be slaughtered by the laws of material nature. They do not know that. Just like the animal—even if he is to be slaughtered, he is not sorry. That is the position of the present human society. So there is a great need of this Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement. People are so fallen that they are reluctant to even to hear about *Bhagavad-gītā*, where everything is explained. They are living like animals. It is our duty to awaken them. That is the Vedic injunction. They are sleeping in ignorance. When a man sleeps, he is ignorant of everything going on outside. He is sleeping, deep sleeping. So the Vedic injunction says, *uttiṣṭhata* *jāgrata prāpya varān nibodhata*: "Please get up. You have this human form of body. Now get up and get out of these clutches of the cycle of birth and death." (*Kaha Upanisad* 1.3.14) Unfortunately, they have become so dull that they cannot understand. People should be trained how to live conscientiously, especially in Kṛṣṇa consciousness. That will solve the problems of life. Otherwise one is committing suicide. That is the verdict of the *sastra*. Thank you very much. Śrīla Prabhupāda Speaks Out: The Most Practical Scientific Understanding *This conversation between His Divine Grace A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupāda and biochemist Thoudam Singh, PhD, took place in Bhubaneswar, India, on February 3, 1977.* Śrīla Prabhupāda: This spiritual science is not beyond science. It is the ultimate science—*vijnanam*, the most practical scientific understanding. On the one hand you have *jnanam*, purely theoretical understanding, like that of the big modern so-called scientists. They theorize how matter is working and how the material body is working, but they do not know how the soul is working, how he is living in the material body and controlling the material body. They do not even know their own selves. On the other hand you have this *vijnanam*, which is not only theoretical but also practical. It is practical knowledge that you realize and understand in your own life—knowledge of who you are, apart from your temporary material body, knowledge of your actual, spiritual identity and how to return at life's end to the spiritual world. Therefore in the *Bhagavad-gītā* Lord Kṛṣṇa affirms, *jñānaṁ te 'haṁ sa-vijñānam idaṁ vakṣyāmy aśeṣataḥ*: "I shall now declare unto you in full this knowledge, both phenomenal and numinous. This being known, nothing further shall remain for you to know." So this spiritual science is not beyond science. It is the ultimate science. Explain it nicely. Then the Americans and the whole world will understand. Dr. Singh: Yes. Honest, fair-minded scientists can help in this effort. Śrīla Prabhupāda: Oh, yes. You can go to the universities and talk with them. Present this spiritual science through scholarly writing and debate. Formerly, learned scholars used to travel and do that. In Sanskrit it is called *dig-vijaya*. The scholar makes it known, "I have this knowledge." Then he challenges, "Come on. You defeat me, or I defeat you." And whoever is defeated becomes a student of the one who is victorious. In any event, in India this was the system. You go out and travel all over the world, and if you are qualified to speak, those with opposing views must come forward to defeat you. Or, if they are defeated, they must become followers; they must make proper acknowledgment. At the present moment the world needs strong spokesmen for this spiritual science who can go forth and convince skeptics. Dr. Singh: A few months ago several of us who feel strongly about what you're saying visited MIT. Śrīla Prabhupāda: Oh, MIT. Shortly after my arrival in America I went there and challenged them [*laughs*]: "You have so many departments of technology. Where is the department that teaches this technology—how to bring someone from death back to life?" Dr. Singh: At MIT they have a big department of artificial intelligence. So we went just to see what they were doing. First they weren't going to allow us in. They didn't want us there. Then we beseeched them, "We've come from far away, and we are interested in mathematics and computer science. We'd simply like to know a bit about this artificial intelligence you are pursuing." Finally they allowed us to come in, and a PhD candidate in computer science showed us all the various labs they had. Śrīla Prabhupāda: A huge arrangement. Dr. Singh: Yes. Then we started talking about intelligence—what intelligence actually is. We had a roundtable discussion, and this PhD candidate was telling us that by "artificial intelligence" they mean that in the future they will have cars and airplanes driven without drivers or pilots. That kind of thing. We pointed out that for true intelligence, there must be consciousness. There must be a spirit soul. Śrīla Prabhupāda: Yes. That autopilot business can be done; they have been doing it for some time already. For instance, for years they have been launching satellites, and those satellites operate at great distances from earth, often largely with automatic mechanisms, with a kind of artificial intelligence. So the satellites have no actual intelligence. The actual, working intelligence is to be found in the people who design and control the satellites. Not in the satellites themselves, but in the laboratories and control rooms, in these various people—these conscious, spiritual beings. Dr. Singh: Yes. That is precisely the point. So we told the PhD candidate, "This expression 'artificial intelligence'—the expression itself—is wrong. A misnomer. It shouldn't be used. 'Intelligence' implies consciousness, a soul. No consciousness—no soul—no intelligence." Śrīla Prabhupāda: That is correct. Dr. Singh: These people have many plans. And they have many dollars to spend—perhaps millions on a department with only thirty-five professors and twenty-two graduate students. Finally, this graduate student admitted that they had been trying to do so many things but they are mostly failing in so many ways. Śrīla Prabhupāda: [*Laughs.*] Dr. Singh: And then I said, "Why are you spending so much time like this?" The graduate student said, "We do some work, but it's mostly for fun. To get money." Śrīla Prabhupāda: Just see what rascals they are! Dr. Singh: They have to keep themselves busy doing something. Otherwise they'll have no income. Śrīla Prabhupāda: That is their position—"artificial intelligence." They do not even know who they are, and they are keeping the whole world in darkness. They have no intelligence. Still, they pose themselves as intelligent and draw money. That's all. Posing themselves as intelligent amongst the fools and taking money from them. This is what is going on. ## Vedic Thoughts As long as a person is fully in cooperation with the wishes of the Lord, guided by the bona fide *brahmanas* and Vaisnavas and strictly following religious principles, one has no cause for despondency, however trying the circumstances of life. His Divine Grace A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupāda *Śrīmad-Bhagavatam* 1.9.12, Purport Pure devotees manifest spiritual bodily symptoms of ecstatic love simply by remembering and reminding others of the Supreme Personality of Godhead, Hari, who takes away everything inauspicious from the devotee. This position is attained by rendering devotional service according to the regulative principles and then rising to the platform of spontaneous love. Lord *Śrī* Kṛṣṇa **Śrī*mad-Bhagavatam* 11.3.31, quoted in *Śrī* *Caitanya-caritāmṛta, Madhya-līlā* 25.140 In all revealed scriptures, beginning with the *Vedas*, the central point of attraction is Kṛṣṇa. When complete knowledge of Him is realized, the bondage of *maya*, the illusory energy, is automatically broken. *Śrī* Caitanya Mahāprabhu *Śrī* *Caitanya-caritāmṛta, Madhya-līlā*, 20.144 The one Supreme Lord lives hidden inside all created things. He pervades all matter and sits within the hearts of all living beings. As the indwelling Supersoul, He supervises their material activities. Thus, while having no material qualities Himself, He is the unique witness and giver of consciousness. *Svetasvatara Upanisad* 6.11 The names of this world are not different from Him. All names in this world are names of the Supreme Personality of Godhead. All names refer to Him, Lord Viṣṇu, whom the wise declare is the Supreme Personality of Godhead. *Bhalvaveya-sruti* May we always fix our hearts on Lord Kṛṣṇa, who is the final goal taught by all the *Vedas*, who is the master of unlimited and inconceivable transcendental potencies, who is the Supreme Personality of Godhead, and who in His own pastimes creates, maintains, and destroys the material universes. Śrīla Baladeva Vidyābhūṣaṇa Commentary on *Vedanta-sutra* 1.4.28 Who is that person without whom the living entities cannot feel happiness? That is the Supreme Personality of Godhead, who delights the individual spirit souls. *Taittiriya Upanisad* 2.7 The residents of Vaikuṇṭha transcend everything material. For persons within the material creation, the manifold glories of those residents and the glories of the Vaikuṇṭha world and its master are beyond analogy and beyond the power of words to describe. Śrī Gopa-kumara *Śrī Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta* 2.4.40–41 My dear child, continue dancing, chanting, and performing *Sankirtana* in association with devotees. Furthermore, go out and preach the value of chanting *Kṛṣṇa-nama*, for by this process You will be able to deliver all fallen souls. Śrīla Isvara Puri to Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu *Śrī Caitanya-caritāmṛta, Adi-līlā* 7.92 ## Joy of Devotion *by Visakha Devī Dāsī* *"To be blissful—to be joyful—is our birthright. It’s part of who we are; it’s our natural constitutional nature."* To some people, “devotion to God” may conjure grave activities: prayer, worship, and religious observances. They may not associate joy with devotion. Yet in fact, joy is a natural result of devotion. One of Kṛṣṇa’s primary teachings in the *Gita* is that we are not the body that we inhabit but we are a soul. He says, “As the sun alone illuminates all this universe, so does the soul, one within the body, illuminate the entire body by consciousness.” (*Gita* 13.34) That soul is not some random, foreign particle but is part of Him, of Kṛṣṇa, as Kṛṣṇa Himself declares: “The souls in this conditioned world are My eternal fragmental parts.” (*Gita* 15.7) Just as a drop of ocean water has the qualities of the vast ocean, so as part of Kṛṣṇa, we, as spiritual entities—souls—have His qualities. Kṛṣṇa, for example, is eternal, and we (as spirit souls) are too, as Kṛṣṇa explains: *na jayate mriyate va kadacin*, “For the soul there is neither birth nor death at any time.” (*Gita* 2.20) Besides being eternal, Kṛṣṇa is also blissful (*ananda*). (*Brahma-saṁhitā* 5.1) And as part of Him, we are also blissful by nature. To be blissful—to be joyful—is our birthright. It’s part of who we are; it’s our natural constitutional nature. And we revive that nature when, with an attitude of devotion, we come in touch with Kṛṣṇa or His devotees. In the words of Barbara Holdrege, Professor of Religious Studies at the University of California in Santa Barbara, “The joy of *bhakti* is actually Kṛṣṇa’s own bliss. What the *bhakta* is tasting when the *bhakta* experiences joy is actually just a reflection of Kṛṣṇa’s own nature that they are partaking of.” Perhaps we can feel an ember of joy lying beneath our daily weighty problems and stresses. Perhaps when we’re chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa or serving Kṛṣṇa in any one of a myriad of ways, we can feel the dichotomy between our deepest identity as a joyful being and what we tend to experience in daily life. In other words, maybe we can occasionally glimpse the fact that this world is not offering us the happiness that’s our birthright; it’s not giving us everything we seek. *Not Getting What We Seek* Govinda Dasi, one of Śrīla Prabhupāda’s early disciples, relates that when she first met Prabhupāda he asked her about her life. When she told him that she’d traveled extensively in Europe, he said, “Oh, you are so young and you’ve traveled so much?” “Yes,” she said. “But none of it made me happy.” Prabhupāda smiled beautifully and said, “Ah yes, that is required.” In other words, what can propel us toward devotional service to Kṛṣṇa is the understanding that this world does not and never will give us what we seek—lasting joy. In Kṛṣṇa’s words: “Four kinds of pious men begin to render devotional service unto Me—the distressed, the desirer of wealth, the inquisitive, and he who is searching for knowledge of the Absolute.” (*Gita* 7.16) But devotional service to Kṛṣṇa can transform our life: The first symptom of pure devotional service, Rupa Gosvami says, is immediate relief from all kinds of material distress. Just as when a hungry person eats a nutritious meal her hunger abates and she feels pleased, similarly when we, as souls, revive our relationship with Kṛṣṇa, we feel detached from all that’s material and we feel fulfilled. We feel joyful. In Kṛṣṇa’s words, *brahma-bhūtaḥ prasannātmā na śocati na kāṅkṣati samaḥ sarveṣu bhūteṣu*: “One who is transcendentally situated at once realizes the Supreme Brahman and becomes fully joyful. He never laments or desires to have anything. He is equally disposed toward every living entity.” *(Gita* 18.54) Or, in the words of the *Śrīmad-Bhagavatam* (1.2.19): “As soon as irrevocable loving service is established in the heart, the effects of nature’s modes of passion and ignorance, such as lust, desire, and hankering, disappear from the heart. Then the devotee is established in goodness, and he becomes completely happy.” Another symptom of pure devotional service that Rupa Gosvami mentions is that it automatically puts one in transcendental pleasure. Śrīa Prabhupāda elaborates: It is stated that as the personal attendants and maidservants of a queen follow the queen with all respect and obeisances, similarly the joys of religiousness, economic development, sense gratification and liberation follow the devotional service of the Lord. In other words, a pure devotee does not lack any kind of happiness derived from any source. He does not want anything but service to Kṛṣṇa, but even if he should have another desire, the Lord fulfills this without the devotee's asking. (*The Nectar of Devotion*, Chapter 1) *Multidimensional Joy* There is, however, much more dimension to the joy a devotee experiences than the joys of religiousness, economic development, sense gratification, and liberation. There’s even more than the external joy that’s so clearly present in the minds and hearts of the devotees when they’re smiling, dancing, and laughing as they chant Hare Kṛṣṇa and do other services for Kṛṣṇa’s pleasure. For example, in the pastime of Kṛṣṇa's chastising Kaliya, when Kṛṣṇa understood that the multi-headed serpent was poisoning the water of the Yamuna River, He jumped into the river and swam around in it, challenging Kaliya. Kaliya grabbed Kṛṣṇa in his thick black coils and apparently trapped Him there. Seeing this, Kṛṣṇa’s friends, the cowherd boys, who were on the riverbank, became overwhelmed with grief. They’d devoted their activities, affection, thoughts, and lives to Kṛṣṇa and knew no one but Him. When the other residents of Vrindavan heard what was happening, they rushed to the riverbank and on seeing Kṛṣṇa in that condition were, like the cowherd boys, overcome with anxiety and fear and grief. Kṛṣṇa’s mother, Yasoda, tried to enter the water but, restrained by the others, fainted. Kṛṣṇa remained seemingly trapped in Kaliya’s grip for two hours, and by that time His friends and relatives on the shore were practically dead from grief. Seeing their condition, Kṛṣṇa freed Himself, danced on Kaliya’s many hoods, and soundly defeated him. The fear, anxiety, grief, dread, and near-death state these devotees felt are not what we usually identify as joy, but in the transcendental understanding, these emotions are not just joy, but are extreme joy. They are not due to any material cause, nor are they tinged with anything material. They are purely in relation to Kṛṣṇa and are therefore ecstatic. Another example of the absolute nature of emotions in the transcendental realm is when Kṛṣṇa left His dear girlfriends, the gopis. Their overwhelming sorrow at separation from Him is understood to be the highest of all ecstasies, vipralambha-bhava, the feeling of being apart from their most beloved. *Emotions Beyond Duality* This material world that we know is a relative one. It’s full of dualities: pleasure and pain, enjoyment and suffering, honor and dishonor, good and bad, young and old. In Kṛṣṇa’s world, however, the absolute world, there are no dualities. Whatever is in relation to Kṛṣṇa is all good, however it appears externally. What can we, who are still in the grip of the relativities of this world and have not yet reunited with Kṛṣṇa enough to feel any sort of ecstasy in relation to Him, do with this knowledge of the absolute nature of spiritual emotions? Caitanya Mahāprabhu gives us a hint when He prays, “I know no one but Kṛṣṇa as my Lord, and He shall always remain so, even if He handles me roughly by His embrace or makes me brokenhearted by not being present before me. He is completely free to do anything and everything, yet He is always my worshipful Lord, unconditionally.” (*Śikṣāṣṭaka* 8) This attitude of “Whatever happens, my dear Kṛṣṇa, whether apparently good or apparently bad, I am Yours” is pleasing to Kṛṣṇa and pleasing to us, too. It’s a commitment and resolve we can strive for. It means we give ourselves over to Kṛṣṇa and depend on Him for shelter, knowing that in the final analysis, whatever happens, there is no other shelter anywhere in the creation. By remembering Kṛṣṇa in good times, those times become better. By remembering Him in difficult times, those times become less difficult. After Kṛṣṇa had saved Queen Kunti and her sons from constant dangers—poisoning, arson, cannibals, a vicious assembly, sufferings during their exile in the forest, the great battle of Kurukshetra, and a nuclearlike attack—Queen Kunti prayed, “I wish that all those calamities would happen again and again so that we could see You again and again, for seeing You means that we will no longer see repeated births and deaths.” (*Bhagavatam* 1.8.25) This is a world of calamities, and chief among them are the inevitable dwindling, suffering, and demise of the body that we’re in. But Kṛṣṇa is more powerful than those calamities, and by remembering Him we overcome material calamities and associate with Him. > abhyāsa-yoga-yuktena > cetasā nānya-gāminā > paramaṁ puruṣaṁ divyaṁ > yāti pārthānucintayan "He who meditates on Me as the Supreme Personality of Godhead, his mind constantly engaged in remembering Me, undeviated from the path, he, O Partha, is sure to reach Me." (*Gita* 8.8) I, for one, can’t pray as Queen Kunti does; I don’t want calamities in my life. But I can appreciate her mood of complete dependence on Kṛṣṇa and her implicit faith that by seeing Him we will no longer experience birth, death, old age, and disease. I can appreciate that her mood is the result of becoming detached from this world and taking full shelter in Kṛṣṇa. *In the Innermost Core of Our Hearts* There’s a fascinating verse toward the end of the *Caitanya-caritāmṛta* (*Antya* 4.176): > 'dvaite' bhadrābhadra-jñāna, saba—'manodharma' > 'ei bhāla, ei manda,'—ei saba 'bhrama' “In the material world, conceptions of good and bad are all mental speculations. Therefore, saying ‘This is good’ and ‘This is bad’ is all a mistake." Śrīla Prabhupāda comments on this point in a letter (May 20, 1976): In this material world, to say this is good and this is bad has no value. To us, everything material is bad as it is lacking Kṛṣṇa consciousness. Just like wet stool and dry stool. Stool is stool, but somebody is saying that wet stool is better than dry stool. What is this good and bad? The top side of some stool is dry and the bottom side is wet, but anyway that you take it, the material world is stool, and it must be given up. Therefore, we are trying to get out of the material world and go back to home, back to Godhead. In this world of duality, this is good and this is bad has no meaning, it is called *manodharma*, mental concoction. However, the real truth is that Kṛṣṇa says that *duhkhalayam asasvatam* [*Gita* 8.15], the world is a place of misery wherein repeated birth and death take place. Now is this good misery or bad misery? Misery is misery; and you have to die, good die or bad die. So to us everything material, without connection to Kṛṣṇa, is to be rejected as stool, otherwise we will waste valuable time needed to solve the real problems of life, namely, birth, death, disease, and old age. Joy is our birthright because we are part of God and He is joyful. Since joy is inherent to us, we are driven to search for it, but we spend our lives searching in the wrong place—in the material world—having forgotten that we’re spiritual beings. Lasting joy, however, cannot be found anywhere within the material world. It’s there within each of us in the innermost core of our hearts; it’s in our relationship with Kṛṣṇa, with His devotees, and with everything related to Him. Joy is amply available to us, but we need guidance to access it. When we receive that guidance, the direction of a qualified spiritual teacher, we find there are unimagined facets of joy. When Śrīla Prabhupāda founded ISKCON, he created seven purposes for it, the third of which is “To bring the members of the Society together with each other and nearer to Kṛṣṇa, the prime entity, and thus to develop the idea, within the members and humanity at large, that each soul is part and parcel of the quality of Godhead (Kṛṣṇa).” And what do the members of the Society—the devotees—do when they come together? Kṛṣṇa Himself explains: “The thoughts of My pure devotees dwell in Me, their lives are fully devoted to My service, and they derive great satisfaction and bliss from always enlightening one another and conversing about Me.” (*Gita* 10.9) Simply by keeping the company of and serving Kṛṣṇa’s devotees we can experience the joy of devotion. And that joy is meant for everyone. *Visakha Devī Dāsī has been writing for BTG since 1973. Visit her website at OurSpiritualJourney.com.* Book Excerpt: Bearer of Light for the West by Yogesvara Dāsa What did Kṛṣṇa have in store for A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami as he embarked, essentially penniless, on his voyage to America? I am victory and adventure. — Śrī Kṛṣṇa in *Bhagavad-gītā*, 10.36 For thirty years, the Swami had attempted to launch his mission inside India but nothing had worked. Contracts for properties fell through, pleas for financing failed, letters to heads of state went unanswered. He had even walked the streets of Delhi with a self-published newspaper, approaching strangers seated at outdoor cafes and politely entreating them to purchase a copy. Here he was, finally on his way to America and maybe Sumati Morarjee was right. It was foolish for a man his age to pursue a dream with no money or contacts. He was a strict vegetarian. What would he eat? Winter was coming. How would he survive the cold? Teachers who had gone West before him, Swami Vivekananda, Paramhansa Yogananda, Rabindranath Tagore and others, were all younger and more experienced travelers. Swamiji was about to turn sixty-nine and he had never been outside India. He had written to his middle son, Mathura Mohan, letting him know that he was at last leaving on his mission and asking for his help. He offered Mathura Mohan a monthly salary of 100 rupees if he would agree to oversee future printings of his books and magazines in India while he was in America. Mathura Mohan had not forgiven his father for renouncing their family. He refused the offer of employment and declined to show up at the pier when his father boarded the Jaladuta. The Swami placed a call to his youngest son, Vrindavan Chandra. Please come, he asked, and take me to the ship. Twenty-six-year-old Vrindavan Chandra arrived by taxi at the Scindia residences in North Calcutta around 5 a.m. on August 13, 1965. The Scindia freight office had taken responsibility for loading onto the Jaladuta 200 sets of the Swami’s three-volume *Śrīmad* Bhagavatam packed in metal trunks, and Vrindavan Chandra found that his father was not carrying much: a small suitcase, an umbrella, a trunk for personal items and a bag of dry cereal. If the West provided nothing acceptable to eat, he could soak the cereal in water and live on that. They loaded everything into the taxi and drove off. The Jaladuta’s gangplank was down, ready to receive its crew. Bhaktivedanta embraced his son, turned and boarded the ship. “I took it calmly,” Vrindavan Chandra remembered, “but psychologically, after all, he was my father. As a child, I had accompanied him on trips to Māyāpur and Navadwip. I had stayed with him also in Chippiwada, Delhi, in 1964, but to be very frank, the family had an extremely hard time when he took sannyasa. We suffered from that. And now, going to America—I was simply crying. I was going to miss him.” The crew of the Jaladuta knew what lay ahead. They had made the crossing before and were prepared for violent storms and gale force winds. The trip across treacherous waters was scheduled to take more than a month. They had heard about their sole passenger and watched as the elderly sannyasi with his umbrella and sack of cereal walked up the gangplank, ready to chase an impossible dream. Yet weren’t all great journeys just that: impossible dreams? Climbing to the top of the world’s tallest mountain, diving in a tin bucket to the bottom of the ocean, riding a giant firecracker into outer space—was it so different to travel half-way round the globe through storms and blackness and nothing but a determination to respiritualize the human race? There were only two possible outcomes to such folly. He would do the impossible, or he would die trying. YOUNG KISHANLAL SHARMA grew up in Vrindavan. At age ten, his duties included caring for his father’s cows and delivering metal containers of fresh milk to village residents. As a boy in the early 1960s, he watched Bhaktivedanta Swami go house to house begging alms. On days when the elder sadhu came to the Sharma home, dressed in his tattered dhoti and wearing dusty sandals on his feet, Swamiji held out a metal cup and Kishanlal’s father filled it with fresh milk. They spoke for some time, of the sad shape of the world, of how fortunate they were to live in Kṛṣṇa’s land and of the Swami’s plans to share Kṛṣṇa with the West. Mr. Sharma smiled indulgently, marveling at how consistently an old sadhu could nurse a dream. Sometimes Mr. Sharma sent his son, Kishanlal, to bring milk to Swamiji’s room in nearby Rādhā Damodar Temple. One day, with the metal container swinging back and forth on his handlebars, young Kishanlal biked to the temple but the gates to Swamiji’s rooms were locked. Kishanlal knocked on the door of the pujari, the temple priest. “Where’s Swamiji?” he asked. “Swamiji is gone,” the pujari replied. “He has gone to the West.” *On board the Jaladuta, August 1965* THE FIRST HEART ATTACK occurred just days after the Jaladuta left port. “The Sea Messenger” crossed the Bay of Bengal, sailed out into the Indian Ocean and from there into a foreboding Arabian Sea where high waves buffeted the 13,000-ton vessel. From the moment the Jaladuta left port, the Swami kept a diary. The entry on August 24 noted, “Rain, seasickness, dizziness, headache, no appetite, vomiting.” At the height of the storm, a jolt of pain exploded in his heart and his legs gave way. He staggered back to his bunk where he collapsed, shivering with fever. He put his right hand in a cloth bag that held his prayer beads and turned the wooden beads between first and third fingers, reciting the Kṛṣṇa *mantra*, “Hare Kṛṣṇa, Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rama, Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare.” A second heart attack struck three days later. The pages of his diary for the following week were blank. He went without food and had no energy to write. Darkness at sea brought a brittle cold and the Swami wrapped himself in a regulation steamship company blanket. When the pain in his chest finally began to abate, he slept. In his diary, he wrote that Kṛṣṇa appeared in a dream, rowing him in a boat toward a distant shore. Over the next week, the storm dissipated. Sunlight emerged from behind dark clouds and the waters calmed. The Jaladuta steamed into the Atlantic Ocean under clear skies and a crisp breeze. On August 31, the Swami wrote in his diary, “Passed over a great crisis in the struggle for life and death.” This was hurricane season, yet there were no waves. The Atlantic was smooth as glass, placid as a lake. The crew whispered. Their passenger was no ordinary sadhu. “This kind of quiet Atlantic I’ve never seen in my life,” the Jaladuta’s captain marveled. “It is only by Kṛṣṇa’s mercy,” the Swami told him, thinking that if there had been a third attack he would surely have died. There was no choice now but to continue on to whatever Kṛṣṇa had in store. His *guru* had inspired him to become a warrior like Arjuna, the hero of India’s sacred text *Bhagavad-gītā*. If he was going to die, better to die on the battlefield. So he reached into his small battered suitcase and pulled out an edge-worn copy of Chaitanya Charitamrita, the seventeenth-century biography of Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, the avatar who had sung the sacred names of Kṛṣṇa in the streets of Bengal. Mahāprabhu predicted that one day the names of Kṛṣṇa would be sung around the world. A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami passed his remaining days at sea meditating on a prediction he hoped to make come true. Thirty-six days later, after traveling 12,000 miles, the Jaladuta arrived in Boston harbor. The Swami took out his pen and composed a poem in his native Bengali. “My dear Lord Kṛṣṇa,” he wrote, “I guess you have some business here, otherwise why would you bring me to this terrible place? Now it is up to you to make me a success or failure, as you like. I am just like a puppet in your hands. So if you have brought me here to dance, then make me dance—make me dance, O Lord. Make me dance as you like.” The following day the ship departed for New York. At noon on Sunday, September 19, 1965, Swamiji stared out at skyscrapers lining the New York horizon like giant concrete teeth. From his bag, he chose a dhoti—a three-yard length of cotton cloth dyed saffron, the color of a Vaishnava monk—and put on white rubber shoes and dressed with care. He said goodbye to the captain and crew and thanked them for their hospitality. Then he arranged for the two hundred sets of his books to be stored in the Scindia warehouse. If somehow he were able to sell a few copies, he would use the money to cover expenses for however long he stayed in America. Then, with nothing but his tiny suitcase, bag of cereal and an umbrella tucked under his arm, and holding the railing as firmly as his recovering muscles would allow, he stepped off the Jaladuta and into the future. THE AGARWALS HAD ARRANGED for a representative from Traveler’s Aid to meet the Swami on his arrival, and together with the agent he set out for Port Authority Bus Terminal. The Swami had sold a set of his books for twenty dollars to the Jaladuta’s captain, enough to purchase a ticket for Butler, Pennsylvania, where the Agarwals lived with their infant son. Along with a letter of sponsorship, the Agarwals had extended an invitation to stay for a few weeks in their Pennsylvania home as a way of adjusting to life in America. On the bus, the Swami watched an endless stream of cars fill the highways exiting New York City. He traveled past skyscrapers and slums, past billboards and blackened industrial zones and miles of factories that lay between New York and Pennsylvania. America’s four-hundred-year history revealed itself to him with every passing mile. Pioneers had made their way across the Atlantic seeking religious freedom in a land of their own. They crafted homes of wood cut and carved with their own hands, plowed the earth, offered prayers of thanks and built a nation like none other in human history. Generations came and went, and their descendants swapped their ancestors’ noble purpose for the chance to bore through mountains and urbanize vast tracts of land. They spent fabulous sums constructing coast-to-coast highways, soaring skyscrapers and dense cities that concentrated millions of people into vertical mazes of concrete and glass. Inspired by advances in technology, they evolved a new ethos. Americans were no longer caretakers of the earth but its masters, competing with one another for profits and goods. They turned their backs on covenants with the natural world, gouged the ground for oil, pillaged forests, built slaughterhouses, churned out weapons, conquered foreign lands and made of the world one huge market. Money was their God—the same one India now worshiped. The Swami looked at the vista of this strange land whizzing past his window and knew there would be a reckoning. Once the Americans exhausted their fantasies about finding contentment in material things, they would emerge from their offices, clubs, shopping malls and restaurants and wonder what went wrong. When the veil of illusion fell away, when the reality of old age and disease and the sad brevity of a lifetime at last penetrated, the meagerness of their lives would become clear—and that would be the moment for Kṛṣṇa consciousness, the lifeline that could save them from drowning in an ocean of repeated births and deaths. He had come for this purpose, to make the message available. Wake up, the Vedas declared. Don’t remain in darkness. Come up to the light! [Excerpted from *Swami in a Strange Land*, by Joshua M. Greene (Yogesvara Dāsa). Copyright 2016 Joshua M. Greene. Available from the Kṛṣṇa.com Store and Amazon.com. This excerpt retains the book's style for dealing with Sanskrit words and other considerations.] *Yogesvara dasa (Joshua M. Greene) was initiated in London in 1970. He earned his M.A. in religious studies at Hofstra University and has been producing books and films on spiritual topics for the past twenty years. His podcasts are available at Gita Wisdom Teachings.*