# Back to Godhead Magazine #56 *2022 (04)* Back to Godhead Magazine #56-04, 2022 PDF-View Welcome Śrīla Prabhupāda was tasked with the mission from his *guru* to spread Kṛṣṇa consciousness to the English-speaking world, and despite all odds he succeeded magnificently. He said that he owed his success to the blessings of his *guru*, and the Vedic scriptures say that only someone specifically empowered by Lord Kṛṣṇa can spread devotion to Him far and wide. In Śrīla Prabhupāda: Delivering the Essence from the Past, Present, and Future, Caitanya Caraṇa Dāsa analyses Prabhupāda’s way of presentation, addressing the question of whether he should be considered a traditionalist, an existentialist, or a utopian. He concludes that Prabhupāda exemplified the best these three have to offer. A major aspect of Kṛṣṇa consciousness that Prabhupāda introduced in the West was the worship of the Deity in the temple. In Madana Mohana: Mesmerizer of Mesmerizers, Satyarāja Dāsa writes about one of the first Deities worshiped by the devotees sent by Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu to revive Vrindavan, the sacred site of Lord Kṛṣṇa’s childhood. Vrindavan in India is spiritually identical to eternal Goloka Vṛndāvana of the spiritual world. Most residents of Vrindavan today are loving devotees of Kṛṣṇa and Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇi, His eternal consort. In an excerpt from her book *Bhakti* Shakti: Goddess of Divine Love, Prāṇadā Devī Dāsī provides insight into the identities and relationship of the divine couple. Hare Kṛṣṇa. —*Nāgarāja Dāsa, Editor* Letters Dealing with Loss My brother recently expired, and after his death I am not able to concentrate. How can I solve this? Neha Chauhan Via the Internet Reply: We are sorry to hear of your loss. You will need some time for reflecting and mourning. You may want to increase your hearing and chanting of the Lord’s names and reading of the *Bhagavad-gītā* or your favorite scripture to remind you of the eternal nature of the soul. If there is a temple near you, the devotees there may have some counselors to help you. The second chapter of the Gītā is expecially beneficial to study when we face troubles and challenges. The story of King Citraketu in the *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam* (Canto Six, chapters 14-16) also contains important lessons to help you see your current situation in a more positive light. If you don’t have a copy of Śrīla Prabhupāda’s Bhāgavatam, you can access it online for free at https://vedabase.io/en/. Try to fill your day with Kṛṣṇa’s service and thinking of Him, and He will certainly help. Becoming a Cow in the Next Life I am just curious; since Kṛṣṇa loves all the cows of the land and they are considered very sacred and are beloved by all Kṛṣṇa devotees around the world, if someone is reborn as a cow in their next life—is it considered good or bad? Is it worse than becoming any other lifeform? How close is it to going back to Godhead? Aryan Jain Via the Internet Reply: No animal birth is considered a good birth. It is a step down from human life, which is meant for going higher, not lower. Śrīla Prabhupāda comments that the monkey, cow, and lion will take human form in their next lifetime, giving them the opportunity to take to devotional service. In general, most animals will have to move from one species to another for many births and deaths. This is not auspicious. If they get some prasādam, they can jump directly up to the human form. Consider that even if you are born as a cow, you will most likely be killed in a slaughterhouse. Not good. The best program is to go to Kṛṣṇa’s eternal home—Goloka, “the land of the cows”—and maybe you will be a cow there, loved by Śrī Kṛṣṇa. Learning the *Gītā* I want to learn the *Gītā* and the philosophy of Lord Kṛṣṇa. Can you suggest how I might do that? Subodh Pitkar Via the Internet Reply: We recommend that you study Śrīla Prabhupāda’s books and, if possible, associate with his disciples and grand-disciples. You can do these things by visiting an ISKCON center. If that is difficult for you to do, you can buy Śrīla Prabhupāda’s books through online stores, and you can read his books online at https://vedabase.io/en/. There are many ISKCON-related websites that provide many ways to learn Lord Kṛṣṇa’s teachings, for example Kṛṣṇa.com and ISKCONdesiretree.com. Founder's Lecture: Delivered by Kṛṣṇa Consciousness *Śrīla Prabhupāda explains that there’s no hope for liberation from material bondage except by chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa.* Vrindavan, India—December 8, 1975 More than ever before, in the current age people waste their lives as victims of uncontrolled senses. > puṁso varṣa-śataṁ hy āyus > tad-ardhaṁ cājitātmanaḥ > niṣphalaṁ yad asau rātryāṁ > śete ’ndhaṁ prāpitas tamaḥ “Every human being has a maximum duration of life of one hundred years, but for one who cannot control his senses, half of those years are completely lost because at night he sleeps twelve hours, being covered by ignorance. Therefore such a person has a lifetime of only fifty years.”—Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam 7.6.6 Prahlāda Mahārāja has already explained how foolish persons are simply wasting time for economic development: “I shall get money, and with money I shall satisfy my senses.” This is going on, dharmārtha-kāma: religion, economic development, sense gratification. This is the standard progression for human beings. Next is mokṣa, liberation. But nobody is trying for mokṣa. They come to the temple just to become a dharmī, a religion person, but the real purpose is “My dear Lord, I am a very poor man. Please give me some money.” By dharma, religion, they want artha, money. And what will they do with money? Kāma: “I shall satisfy my senses.” This is going on. And Kṛṣṇa gives them accordingly. It is not that Kṛṣṇa does not give. Kṛṣṇa satisfies always. For this reason it is recommended that even if you have got some lusty desires to fulfill, still, go to Kṛṣṇa, and He will satisfy them. Don’t go to demigods. Generally people go to demigods to fulfill their lusty desires: “Mother, Goddess Kālī, I am a very great devotee of yours. Kindly allow me to eat meat.” That’s all. Mother says, “All right, bring one black goat and offer it to me and then take prasādam.” This is meant for the meat-eaters. The purpose is to restrain them. Instead of you purchasing meat from the slaughterhouse, the śāstra, scripture, says, “All right, eat meat in this way.” This is restriction. This is not indulgence. To eat meat, to have sex life, and to drink intoxication, these things are naturally there, so why should śāstra encourage them? “Yes, you can eat meat by offering pūjā, worship, to Goddess Kālī.” “Yes, you may have sex life by marrying.” In this way these things are mentioned in śāstra. But this is not encouragement. This is restraining. If a man is not married, he will want to enjoy sex life like cats and dogs. Therefore śāstra says, “All right, don’t become cats and dogs. Become a human being and get married and have your sex life under restraint.” Similarly, “If you are a rākṣasa—you want to eat meat—don’t eat like a rākṣasa. Better to offer a goat to be sacrificed before Goddess Kālī.” This is śāstra. The goat will be benefited. Because he is offering his life before Goddess Kālī, he will immediately get the body of a human being, immediate promotion. He is benefited, and he has the right to kill this man who killed him. These are the injunctions in the śāstras. *Concessions, Not Requirements* Śāstra never encourages this, but those who are in the tamo-guṇa, in the darkness, just to raise them gradually to the sattva-guṇa, goodness, some concession is given. When the government opens a liquor shop, the liquor shop is not opened to encourage drinking. Nowadays, of course, the situation is different. But the fact is that if the government does not open liquor shops, these rascals will distill liquor in every home. Therefore the government gives some concession. These are concessions. These are not required at all. For human beings they are not required. Therefore we restrict: “No intoxication, no meat-eating . . .” These things are not required by human beings. We are simply habituated to indulge in these sinful activities. They are not required. To speak frankly, there is no necessity even for marrying. There is no necessity. If one can remain a brahmacārī, celibate, all throughout life, that is a great benefit. Great benefit. What is the benefit? Marriage means increasing botheration. Now people are trying to get out of the botheration. Just like we see the advertisement, “One, two, three—no more children.” And people ask, “So what I shall do?” “Now, kill, that’s all. Kill them by contraceptive method or directly. Don’t allow more than one, two, three children.” They understand that “This is botheration.” And the śāstra also says, “Botheration.” > yan-maithunādi-gṛhamedhi-sukhaṁ hi tucchaṁ > kaṇḍūyanena karayor iva duḥkha-duḥkham > tṛpyanti neha kṛpaṇā bahu-duḥkha-bhājaḥ > kaṇḍūtivan manasijaṁ viṣaheta dhīraḥ “Sex life is compared to the rubbing of two hands to relieve an itch. Gṛhamedhīs, so-called gṛhasthas who have no spiritual knowledge, think that this itching is the greatest platform of happiness, although actually it is a source of distress. The kṛpaṇas, the fools who are just the opposite of brāhmaṇas, are not satisfied by repeated sensuous enjoyment. Those who are dhīra, however, who are sober and who tolerate this itching, are not subjected to the sufferings of fools and rascals.” *(Bhāgavatam* 7.9.45) “All right, I have begotten one child. I have to take care of that child, so much care always.” “All right, you have taken so much trouble. Stop here. No more.” “No. I must do it again.” Tṛpyanti neha kṛpaṇā bahu-duḥkha-bhājaḥ. There are so many botherations, but still we do it practically. Why? It is said ajitātmanaḥ. Those who cannot control the senses become victimized, victims of sense enjoyment. *Victims of Uncontrolled Senses* Prahlāda Mahārāja is speaking of the ajitātmanaḥ, those rascals who cannot control the senses. Their first business is to sleep as much as possible—twelve hours, fourteen hours, in the Western countries sometimes sixteen hours or twenty-four hours. In the beginning, at 26 Second Avenue, when our morning prayer was going on, at seven, not very early, so many other tenants, half-naked, complained to Mr. Judah, our landlord. “Mr. Judah, what is this going on? What is going on? Stop it. Stop it. Stop.” Mr. Judah used to say, “No, no, they’ll not stop. I cannot say. You go to the police.” Sometimes police were coming to stop us, but we did not stop. [Laughter.] Human life is meant for jitātmanaḥ, for gaining victory over the senses. “No, better to be victimized by the senses.” This is modern civilization. Modern civilization means the more you become victimized by the senses, the more advanced you are. So the first business of the ajitātmanaḥ is to eat voraciously and to sleep unlimitedly. The *ajitātmanaḥ* are described in another place in the *Bhāgavatam* (2.1.3): > nidrayā hriyate naktaṁ > vyavāyena ca vā vayaḥ > divā cārthehayā rājan > kuṭumba-bharaṇena vā “The lifetime of such an envious householder is passed at night either in sleeping or in sex indulgence, and in the daytime either in making money or maintaining family members.” Gṛha-medhinām means those who are very much attached to family life. This is māyā, illusion. Prahlāda Mahārāja condemned this even at the age of five years. He told his demonic father, Hiraṇyakaśipu, “The gṛha, this so-called family life, is a dark well.” We are thinking we are very happily living with a nice wife and children and working very hard, getting money. But śāstra says, “You are fallen in the dark well.” Gṛham andha-kūpam. And “All right, let me remain here.” “No.” Ātma-pātam. If you remain in this way, then you will kill your soul. Ātma-pātam. Therefore in the Vedic civilization there is the compulsory instruction “Get out.” Pañcaśordhvaṁ vanaṁ vrajet. “Now that you are past fifty years old, immediately get out.” “No, I have got so many duties. I have got this . . .” “No, no.” Vrajet. You must go. Compulsory. This form of the verb is used where there is no argument; you must. Just as when nature calls you, you must obey. *Vedic Civilization Means to Be Prepared* This is Vedic civilization. Not that unless you are killed or being shot down by somebody else, you are not leaving the gṛham andha-kūpam. That is not Vedic civilization. Vedic civilization means that you must be prepared for making spiritual progress, especially the higher castes, especially the brāhmaṇas. The brāhmaṇas must observe the four stages of brahmacārī (celibate student life), gṛhastha (married life), vānaprastha (retired life), and sannyāsa (renounced life). Some brāhmaṇas do not even go to the gṛhastha life. They remain brahmacārīs. It is said, puṁso varṣa-śataṁ hy āyuḥ. So, divide this varṣa-śatam, hundred years: twenty-five years brahmacārī, twenty-five years gṛhastha, twenty-five years vanaprastha, and the last twenty-five years sannyāsa. That is real civilization, not no brahmacārī, no vānaprastha, no sannyāsa, simply gṛhastha. They are not actually gṛhastha. They are called gṛhamedhi. There are two words: gṛhamedhi and gṛhastha. Gṛhastha means married life only for twenty-five years, not more than that. That is gṛhastha. And those who are gṛhastha up to the point of death, or unless they are killed, that is gṛhamedhi. Gṛhamedhi means he has made his center the wife and family, like a cow that is tied with a rope to a center post and is simply going around in circles while thinking he is going around the world. Gṛhamedhi means a man who has fixed up his center—the wife and children—and is going around throughout his whole life, no ending. They are called gṛhamedhi. And gṛhastha means the gṛhastha-āśrama. The gṛhastha-āśrama is as good as any other āśrama. Whether the sannyāsa-āśrama or the gṛhastha-āśrama, if a man lives according to the regulative principles, that is āśrama. That is also not for all the time, but only for twenty-five years. *Passing Their Days without Benefit* Those who do not observe these rules and regulations are called ajitātmanaḥ, uncontrolled victims of the senses. Their business is to sleep as much as possible. They are never practiced to get up early in the morning. Unless they are bound, or knotted, they cannot take to this practice. These are the ajitātmanaḥ. The ajitātmanaḥ are passing their days without any benefit, niṣphalam, without any result. Human life is meant for attaining a good result. The human life is so valuable, and I shall waste it simply by sleeping? Therefore the Gosvāmīs, our predecessor *gurus*, have shown by example. Nidrāhāra-vihārakādi-vijitau. They conquered over these things, beginning with nidrā, sleeping. Nidrā is very dangerous according to Vedic civilization. It is simply a waste of time. If one is not serious about the value of this human form of life, he may waste his time by sleeping. But no. We follow our predecessors, our Gosvāmīs, who were government ministers, but they came to Vrindavan to practice. To practice what? Nidrāhāra-vihārakādi-vijitau, to conquer over sleeping, eating, and mating. If we come to Vrindavan and simply indulge in eating, sleeping, and mating, what is the use of coming to Vrindavan? Go to hell and live there. Vrindavan life is to practice *nidrāhāra-vihārakādi-vijitau*. That is wanted. Those who are ajitātmanaḥ, although they have got one hundred years, still, fifty years they are wasting at least because they will sleep at night twelve hours. So fifty years wasted. And the other fifty years? That will be described in the next verse. They waste twenty years by sporting. It is natural, in every country. They are students. Instead of becoming brahmacārīs, instead of becoming śānta, dānta, very peaceful, they are indulging in sporting. This is introduced in India also. I have seen in Calcutta, many young men. At twelve o’clock they are playing football. Why? There is no engagement. What will they do? Unemployment. There is no employment. Because education now means to become a servant, to write an application and go office to office: “Sir, give me some service.” “No, no, no. No vacancy. Get out.” This is education. After taking the MA, BA degrees, they have no employment. So what will they do? They’ll form a party of anarchists and Naxalites and play football because they must have some engagement. This is the so-called advancement of civilization. Instead of utilizing the valuable form of human life, they are always wasting it. At night they are sleeping, and at noon they are playing football. You see? Wasting time. This will be explained in the next verse. By sporting life, twenty years passed. Fifty years by sleeping and twenty years by football. Then seventy years have passed. And when he is an old man: “Here is pain. Here is rheumatism. Here is diabetes” and so on, so on. So, by treatment, by blood examination, another twenty years. So, twenty years sporting, twenty years diabetes, and fifty years sleeping. Then what is left? Where is the opportunity for Kṛṣṇa consciousness? This is modern civilization. *Trying to Save People* We are trying to save people from this modern civilization, when wasting time has excessively increased. But this process was already existent. This is the way of material life. In the Satya-yuga it was less, in the Tretā-yuga it was more, in the Dvāpara-yuga it was still more, and in the Kali-yuga it is full. This is the difference of the ages. Therefore it is said: > harer nāma harer nāma > harer nāmaiva kevalam > kalau nāsty eva nāsty eva > nāsty eva gatir anyathā “In this age of quarrel and hypocrisy the only means of deliverance is chanting the holy name of the Lord. There is no other way. There is no other way. There is no other way.” (*Bṛhan-nāradīya Purāna* 38.126) There is no hope for liberation from this material bondage except by chanting this Hare Kṛṣṇa *mantra*. You may want to revive the old Vedic civilization of brahmacārī, gṛhastha, vānaprastha, and sannyāsa, and brāhmaṇa, kṣatriya, vaiśya, and śūdra, but these are all spoiled. Everything is spoiled. Then what is the position? Kalau śūdra samabhavaḥ. In this age people are simply devoid of qualifications. “So how they will be delivered? By your Kṛṣṇa consciousness?” Yes. They’ll be delivered by Kṛṣṇa consciousness. Not only those who are fourth class, but even those less qualified. The fifth grade, sixth grade, seventh grade, tenth grade—all rascals and all sinful men. They will all be delivered simply by Kṛṣṇa consciousness. Take this chanting of Hare Kṛṣṇa, and your life will be saved. Thank you very much. The First Element of Creation The following conversation between Śrīla Prabhupāda and the poet Allen Ginsberg took place in Columbus, Ohio, on May 11, 1969. Śrīla Prabhupāda: Nobody is free from service because we are constitutionally servants. Either we become the servant of the Great or of māyā. Just like in any condition of our lives, we have to abide by the state laws. If you don’t abide, then you come to the prison house. You will be forced. Similarly, māyā and Kṛṣṇa. If we don’t abide by Kṛṣṇa, then we come to māyā. We cannot be free. That is not our position. Freedom results in frustration. Allen Ginsberg: Do you remember a man named Richard Alpert? He used to work with Timothy Leary in Harvard many years ago. And then he went to India and found a teacher and is now a disciple of Hanumānjī, or a devotee of Hanumān. We were talking about māyā and the present condition of America. So he said that his teacher in India told him that LSD was a Christ of the Kali-yuga for Westerners. Śrīla Prabhupāda: Christ? Allen Ginsberg: Of the Kali-yuga for Westerners. As the Kali-yuga got more intense, as attachment got thicker and thicker, salvation would also have to get easier and easier. Śrīla Prabhupāda: That is a very nice statement that in the Kali-yuga salvation becomes much easier. That is the version of *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam* also, but that process is this kīrtana, not LSD. Allen Ginsberg: Well, the reasoning was that for those who would only accept salvation in a purely material form, in a chemical form finally, Kṛṣṇa had the humor to emerge as a pill. Śrīla Prabhupāda: No, the thing is that with any material form, where is there salvation? It is illusion. Allen Ginsberg: Well, the subjective effect is to cut attachment during . . . Śrīla Prabhupāda: No. If you have got attachment for something material, then where is the cut-off of attachment? LSD is a material chemical. Allen Ginsberg: Yeah. Śrīla Prabhupāda: So if you have to take shelter of LSD, then you are taking help from matter. So how are you free from matter? Allen Ginsberg: Well, the subjective experience is, while in the state of intoxication of LSD you also realize that LSD is a material pill, and that it does not really matter. Śrīla Prabhupāda: So that is risky. That is risky. Allen Ginsberg: Yeah. Now, so if LSD is a material attachment, which it is, I think, then is not sound, śabda, also a material attachment? Śrīla Prabhupāda: No, śabda is spiritual. Just like in the Bible it is said, “Let there be creation.” This sound is spiritual sound. Creation was not there. The sound produced the creation. Therefore sound is originally spiritual, and from sound, sky develops; from sky, air develops; from air, fire develops; from fire, water develops; from water, land develops. Allen Ginsberg: Sound is the first element of creation? Śrīla Prabhupāda: Yes, yes. Allen Ginsberg: What was the first sound traditionally? Śrīla Prabhupāda: The Vedic literature states, oṁ. So at least we can understand from your Bible that God said, “Let there be creation.” So there is this sound, and then there is creation. God and His sound are nondifferent, absolute. I say, “Mr. Ginsberg,” and this sound and I are different. But God is nondifferent from His energy. Śakti śaktimator abhedaḥ. Śakti, energy, and śaktimat, the energetic, they are nondifferent. Just like fire and heat, they are nondifferent, but heat is not fire. You cannot differentiate heat from fire, or fire from heat. But fire is not heat. Allen Ginsberg: Well, the sound Kṛṣṇa . . . Śrīla Prabhupāda: Yes, it is nondifferent from Kṛṣṇa. Allen Ginsberg: Under all circumstances. Śrīla Prabhupāda: Yes, under all circumstances. But it is a question of my appreciation, or my realization. That will depend on my purity. Otherwise, this Kṛṣṇa sound and Kṛṣṇa are nondifferent. Therefore if we vibrate the sound Kṛṣṇa, then we are immediately in contact with Kṛṣṇa. And because Kṛṣṇa is wholly spiritual, then we become spiritualized. Just like if you touch electricity, immediately you’re electrified. And the more you become electrified [by vibrating the sound Kṛṣṇa], the more you become Kṛṣṇa-ized. So when you are fully Kṛṣṇa-ized, you are on the Kṛṣṇa platform. Tyaktvā dehaṁ punar janma naiti mām eti so ’rjuna. You don’t come back to this material existence. You remain with Kṛṣṇa. Śrīla Prabhupāda: Delivering the Essence from the Past, Present, and Future *Religious teachers are often presumed to be traditionalists, but Śrīla Prabhupāda transcended that designation.* As a transcendentalist, Śrīla Prabhupāda integrated the best of the traditionalist, the existentialist, and the utopian. By Caitanya Caraṇa Dāsa Traditionalists live for the past, existentialists live for the present, utopians live for the future. Religious teachers are often presumed to be traditionalists, but Śrīla Prabhupāda was a transcendentalist: he lived for the supreme transcendental reality, Kṛṣṇa. And in his service to Kṛṣṇa, he drew the best from the past, focused on the best in the present, and aspired for the best in the future. Let’s see how. *Transcendentalist Beyond Traditionalist* Traditionalists believe that the past was the reservoir of everything good and that turning back the clock is the only way to human flourishing. They spend much of their time, emotion, energy, and intelligence in lamenting how dreadful the present is and in nostalgically reminiscing about how wonderful the past was. Śrīla Prabhupāda certainly held that we had much to learn from the past. In our contemporary infatuation with progress, we have cut ourselves off from the past’s treasure trove of enriching wisdom. Therefore Śrīla Prabhupāda presented and represented the wisdom that had been prevalent in India in the past. But he didn’t consider that wisdom as belonging to the past; it was timeless and transcendental, having its source in the supreme transcendental reality, Kṛṣṇa. Because he knew that the timeless is timely at all times, he didn’t feel the need to center his outreach efforts on turning back the clock. Recognizing that many of the religious rituals and cultural customs of the past couldn’t be replicated in the present, he downplayed those mores of the past. Steering clear of a naive idolizing of the past, Śrīla Prabhupāda judiciously selected from the past what would help people today come closer to Kṛṣṇa. He engaged his students in spiritual practices that were doable and transformational for them. In a similar spirit of not fighting unnecessarily against the flow of history, he didn’t insist on rejecting the many facilities provided by modernity, especially by modern technology. In fact, he went far beyond acknowledging the utility and even necessity of technology for daily living in today’s world; he even encouraged the use of technology for sharing spiritual wisdom more efficiently and extensively. Striking an even grander note in that same vein, he envisioned his movement as a global synthesis of the East and the West. Speaking metaphorically, he talked about how two people—one blind and one lame—can help each other. The lame man can show the way to the blind man, and the blind man can carry the lame man, and thus both can reach their destination. Unpacking the metaphor, he asserted that India was like the lame man and the West was like the blind man. The two needed to work together for raising human consciousness and promoting the world’s welfare. How is this metaphor relevant to our discussion on transcendental vis-a-vis traditional? Because through the metaphor, Śrīla Prabhupāda conveys that India today needs to join forces with the West, not change itself to the India of some idyllic past. Why did Śrīla Prabhupāda compare the West to a blind man? Because of its obsession with materialism and its alienation from its spiritual foundations. Was this comparison a self-congratulatory put-down of the West? No. He was not the only person to make such an assessment; many others, including Western thinkers, voiced similar sentiments. For example, Martin Luther King Jr. stated, “Our technological power has outrun our spiritual power. We have guided missiles and misguided men.” Why did Śrīla Prabhupāda compare India to a lame man? Because subjugation by foreign rulers for nearly a millennium had stripped India of most of its phenomenal past prosperity. How could India’s spiritual resources work in conjunction with the West’s material resources? If modern resources such as technology were used to spread spiritual values and if Western people, whom the rest of the world, including India, often imitated, started prioritizing spiritual values, the whole world would become much more ready to give spirituality its due place in their lives. And the consequent rising of human consciousness with its increased selflessness and service attitude would address at the root many of the world’s most trenchant problems. Another example of Śrīla Prabhupāda’s emphasis on the transcendental rather than just the traditional is his strong opposition to the discriminatory caste system, wherein caste is determined by birth. He declared this system to be a latter-day corruption of varṇāśama, an ancient system of social organization based on innate human psychophysical orientations. In his many talks and writings, he unapologetically explained the rationale for varṇāśama. Śrīla Prabhupāda’s teachings were firmly grounded in tradition, or more precisely, in traditional commentaries on wisdom texts from the Vedic canon. Simultaneously, he wrote extensive commentaries that explained the transcendental import and contemporary relevance of those texts. In the dozens of books that emerged from his teachings, he presented not just Vedic wisdom, but the best of Vedic wisdom—that is, those aspects of Vedic wisdom centered on the supreme spiritual reality, Kṛṣṇa, and on the principle of universal spiritual love, *bhakti*. Another key differentiator between Śrīla Prabhupāda and a traditionalist was his deemphasizing ritual puritanism while simultaneously emphasizing spiritual purity. Puritanism often centers on parading one’s own purity according to certain predefined cultural or moral standards while simultaneously demeaning or even demonizing those who lack that purity. Such puritanism often made India’s religious elite and masses look down on people who were deemed lower-caste or outcaste. In heartwarming contrast, Śrīla Prabhupāda saw the spiritual potential of everyone, irrespective of status in terms of ritual purity. Stressing that everyone is a part of Kṛṣṇa *(Gītā* 15.7) and has Kṛṣṇa present in them *(Gītā* 15.15), he sought to fan the spark of spiritual interest in everyone he encountered. His spiritually inclusive approach enabled him to do something remarkable: connect with young people from the American counterculture in the 1960s, people who had come to reject most of the norms that defined mainstream Western society. He warmly welcomed such young people, cordially discussed philosophy with them, and affectionately served them sanctified food (prasāda). He even washed their plates after they left—something usually unthinkable for caste-conscious brāhmaṇas who wouldn’t even break bread with those considered impure. While Śrīla Prabhupāda firmly avoided puritanism, he did convey that spiritual purity is vital for developing a personal relationship with all-pure Kṛṣṇa. Though he wanted his committed students to adopt habits of self-regulation that would foster purity, he never made those who couldn’t or wouldn’t follow such habits feel guilty or dirty or unwanted. He focused on the spark of the divine in everyone, not on the contaminations around that spark. Consequently, those who came into his presence often felt unconditionally loved by him. And he attracted toward *bhakti* spirituality thousands, even millions, from various backgrounds all over the world. Additionally, with regard to some areas where Śrīla Prabhupāda might have seemed a regressive traditionalist, he has turned out to be a prescient futurist. For example, among the many spiritual teachers who went from India to the West, he was among the rare few who emphasized living off the land and choosing a vegetarian diet. Describing how Kṛṣṇa lived in the pastoral paradise of Vrindavan and how devotees have for millennia lived close to nature, he encouraged his students to establish ecofriendly farm communities. Calls similar to his for living in harmony with nature are now being echoed and amplified by the widespread environmental movement that has recognized the dire necessity for humans to shift toward more sustainable ways of living. Also, Śrīla Prabhupāda was among the Western pioneers in sharing the art of vegetarian cooking. Through his culinary expertise, he demonstrated how vegetarianism is far more relishable than an austere sentence to live on vegetables. Today, that trend toward vegetarianism has, with some variations, burgeoned into the huge veganism movement. *Transcendentalist Beyond Existentialist* “Live in the present” is a common existential saying that has gained widespread currency in today’s mainstream culture. It has merit in an important sense: being attentive to things happening in the present is far better than lamenting about the bad things that happened in the past or worrying about the bad things that may happen in the future. And Śrīla Prabhupāda was existentialist in that sense. For example, when he traveled to America at the age of sixty-nine to share spiritual wisdom, he focused on the present. He seized whatever opportunity he got, however slim it might seem to a logical mind. And he responded enthusiastically to whoever showed interest, however unlikely that person might seem as a potential candidate for *bhakti* spirituality. He didn’t become discouraged by thinking about the past, wherein nearly all of his efforts to share *bhakti* had received at best an underwhelming response. Neither did he become paranoid by thinking about the future, contemplating all the dangers that might befall a lone, elderly teacher in a foreign land. Only because he paid meticulous attention to even the smallest of openings that came his way was he able to spread his movement, initially slowly and then dramatically rapidly. Śrīla Prabhupāda lived in the present, but not for the present. In fact, living for the present can be a recipe for distress, especially for those whose present is bleak. Consider a patient suffering from a prolonged and painful disease. The only way to get the inspiration to endure and survive is by living for a future of improved health. The patient needs to live in the present in the sense that he or she needs to take the treatment attentively, but to advise living only for the present is to sentence that person to unmitigated misery, maybe even unbearable misery. Unlike a patient who somehow endures the present, Śrīla Prabhupāda wasn’t somehow enduring his present, which was filled with anonymity, while he waited for a future of fame. Those who met him on the Lower East Side, New York, when he was still an unknown swami noticed immediately how he radiated a simple, sublime joy. He was satisfied speaking about Kṛṣṇa to anyone who came to meet him or hear from him. And for the many who couldn’t or wouldn’t come, he was kindly writing books explaining the message of Kṛṣṇa. Undoubtedly, he wanted more people to hear Kṛṣṇa’s message and be benefited from it—that’s why he had traveled thousands of miles, at great personal risk, seeking an interested audience. Still, his happiness wasn’t dependent on the spread of his message; he was content in his service to Kṛṣṇa. Those who met him during those days narrate how he seemed to be rooted in some unflappable reality far beyond the noisy, busy streets of New York. Despite Śrīla Prabhupāda’s pragmatic focus on the present, he was certainly not an existentialist in the philosophical sense of the word. Existentialist philosophers posit that our existence in a hostile universe is ultimately unexplainable. Therefore they disregard philosophical explanations about the nature of reality and concern themselves only with doing the best in the present. In radical opposition to such an unphilosophical approach to life, Śrīla Prabhupāda stressed that the faculty for philosophical inquiry differentiates humans from other life-forms. In the light of his teachings, a philosophy such as existentialism that downplays or denies the importance of philosophy is not a philosophy at all; it is better called a “foolosophy,” the sophistry of fools. Drawing from the vast library of ancient Indian wisdom texts, he articulated a coherent philosophy that infused the lives of millions with meaning, purpose, and joy. He wove together diverse concepts such as the immortality of the soul, the universality of reincarnation, the pervasiveness of cosmic accountability in the form of *karma*, the accessibility of a personal all-attractive divinity, and the inalienable potential of the heart for everlasting love. And in the resulting philosophical mosaic, he emphasized how love and service, centered on Kṛṣṇa, could help us all make ourselves better and our world better. Simultaneously, we would be preparing our consciousness for elevation toward a better place, in fact the best place in our post-mortem existence. Though he was deeply philosophical in his teachings, he cautioned his students against getting lost in a philosophical maze. When he was asked, “What do you think of Buddhism?” he sensed that the questioner was asking from a platform of idle intellectualism. Rather than getting into the intricacy of any philosophy, he counter-questioned, “Do you follow Buddha?” When the surprised questioner replied, “Er . . . no,” Śrīla Prabhupāda emphatically declared, “Follow Buddha; follow Jesus; follow Kṛṣṇa; follow someone. Don’t just talk.” His point was that mere academic comparison of various schools of thought wouldn’t provide any substantial spiritual insight; only by adopting a path through appropriate lifestyle change could people realize the validity and suitability of any path for them. *Transcendentalist Beyond Utopian* Utopians believe that the future holds the answer to all problems. They usually subscribe to some ideology or method they hold will bring in utopia in this world. Nowadays, the most influential utopians are champions of technology; they claim and proclaim that technological advancement will provide the key to a secure and happy future. It’s difficult to see Śrīla Prabhupāda as a utopian—he often quoted the *Gītā* (8.15) to declare that life will always remain tough in this world; distress can never be eliminated from it. He also quoted the *Bhāgavatam’s* assertion that the present cosmic age, Kali-yuga, is a dark age characterized by human decline. Yet such statements didn’t make him gloomy, lethargic, or pessimistic. Far from it, Śrīla Prabhupāda often exhibited a defining feature of a utopian: a positive, hope-filled vision of the future. Based on a holistic understanding of the Vedic texts, he knew that though the cosmic cycle might be presently on a downturn, humans always have the potential to evolve spiritually. And the activation of that potential is often aided by divine compassion. During times of spiritual emergency such as the present, Kṛṣṇa becomes more merciful and makes Himself more accessible than in the past through comparatively easier means, such as the chanting of the holy names. Considering himself a humble instrument in the hands of his spiritual master and Kṛṣṇa, Śrīla Prabhupāda tirelessly played his part in what he saw as a cosmic rescue plan. And he felt confident about the materialization of a divine prediction: the holy names of Kṛṣṇa will be chanted in every town and village of the world. With such a vision of his mission, he was always optimistic about the future. While still an unknown swami in New York City, he declared to an acquaintance: There are temples all over the world and they are filled with hundreds of devotees. Time alone is separating us from them. And his confident optimism was well-founded. In little more than a decade, from the start of his mission to his passing, he had spoken at thousands of places in fourteen speaking tours that circumnavigated the world. He had founded a vibrant global movement that had 108 centers. And he had inspired millions toward higher consciousness, greater meaning, and deeper fulfillment. He assured his students that they all could be instruments for ushering in a golden sub-age within this dark iron age, provided they maintained spiritual integrity and vibrancy. By the time he departed from the world, he had bequeathed to his students in specific and to the world at large a rich and resourceful spiritual legacy that could raise human consciousness for generations, centuries, even millennia. *The Essence-seeker* Through his life and teachings, Śrīla Prabhupāda demonstrated how to be a paramahaṁsa (“supreme swan”), a word used for transcendentalists. In Sanskrit poetics the swan is said to be able to take the milk out of a combination of milk and water; similarly, Śrīla Prabhupāda focused on the spiritual essence from all three phases of time: past, present, and future. Through his personal example, he demonstrated the truth of one of the key verses of *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam* (1.7.7): when we hear about Kṛṣṇa, our devotional attraction to him awakens, thereby freeing us from the illusions characteristic of the three phases of time—lamentation about the past, illusion about the present, and fear about the future. *Caitanya Caraṇa Dāsa serves full time at ISKCON Chowpatty, Mumbai. He is a BTG associate editor and the author of twenty-five books. To read his other articles or receive his daily reflection on the Bhagavad-gītā, “Gītā-Daily,” visit gitadaily.com.* Does One Person’s Mistake Make Many Culprits? *Some episodes from the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam illustrate the danger of overreacting.* By Gaurāṅga Darśana Dāsa Our guilty actions can have negative consequences not only for ourselves but for innocent people connected to us. It’s natural to be angry with a person who hurts us. If the pain caused by someone’s actions is too severe, one might even consider punishing that person. But how appropriate is it to condemn or punish an entire community or family for one person’s mistake? Here are some examples from *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam* to explore this topic. *Overstepping While Avenging a Brother’s Death* Once, King Dhruva’s younger brother, Uttama, was killed by a powerful Yakṣa in the Himalayas. Dhruva was a pure devotee who had attained the audience of Lord Viṣṇu at the age of five and was destined to go to the Lord’s abode after death. Still, Dhruva was overwhelmed with grief and lamentation when his brother died. His example shows that despite understanding the temporary nature of the material world and our relationships within it, devotees are not hardhearted; they have soft feelings and emotions. Another example of this is that when Abhimanyu died in the battle of Kurukshetra, his father, Arjuna, was overwhelmed with grief, although earlier he had heard and accepted the transcendental teachings of *Bhagavad-gītā* from Kṛṣṇa. Being a responsible king, Dhruva wanted to punish the Yakṣas for unceremoniously killing his brother. He went out to attack their city, Alakapuri, and a fierce battle took place. At one point the Yakṣas fled from the battlefield, but soon returned to attack Dhruva with many bewildering illusions. Then great sages appeared and reminded Dhruva of the nārāyaṇa weapon—a spiritual arrow created by Lord Nārāyaṇa—in his possession. Thus, with the nārāyaṇāstra Dhruva destroyed all the illusions created by the Yakṣas. Bouncing back with full force, he began to indiscriminately kill the Yakṣas, almost to the point of destroying their entire race. Seeing his grandson Dhruva’s excessive spirit of punishment, Svāyambhuva Manu approached him and said, “My dear Dhruva, enough! Excessive anger (atiroṣa) is the sinful path of ignorance. It doesn’t befit our dynasty, and especially you, who are destined to achieve the Lord’s abode. It has been proved that you are affectionate to your brother and are aggrieved about his death. But for the fault of one Yakṣa, you are killing many. May I remind you, these Yakṣas are not the killers of your brother, for the Supreme Lord is the ultimate cause of birth and death. Please note that your overreaction to one Yakṣa’s mistake has been very disrespectful to Kuvera, the king of the Yakṣa race. You should immediately pacify him.” Svāyambhuva Manu, the first progenitor of mankind, disapproved of Dhruva’s attitude and his act of punishing an entire race for one member’s mistake. Even great devotees may be subject to undue anger at times. The nature of anger is that if unchecked, it can keep increasing. But the greatness of devotees is that they gracefully receive the suggestions and guidance of mature devotees. And instead of justifying their mistakes, they admit and rectify them and humbly give up their circumstantial anger. On the advice of Manu, Dhruva stopped fighting and apologized and pacified Kuvera. Being pleased with Dhruva, Kuvera granted him the benediction of unflinching faith in and remembrance of the Supreme Lord. *Defending the Master’s Honor* Once all the sages, demigods, and other leaders of the universe assembled to perform a thousand-year sacrifice. When Dakṣa Prajāpati, an expert progenitor and their chief, entered that great assembly, everyone except Lord Brahmā and Lord Śiva stood up in respect. Dakṣa offered obeisances to his father, Brahmā. But seeing Śiva sitting without showing him respect, Dakṣa was enraged. On the pretext of speaking about good manners and the culture of respect, Dakṣa criticized Lord Śiva. “This Śiva is shameless and proud. He married my daughter and thus accepted himself as my subordinate. He is impure, unclean, mad, and the master of ghosts in ignorance.” Due to his deep-rooted envy, Dakṣa cursed Śiva. “May this Śiva not have a share in the sacrificial oblations.” Dakṣa then angrily left the assembly in spite of the requests of the assembly leaders. Out of pride and envy, people desire respect and worship for themselves but do not offer the same to others. Vaiṣṇava culture teaches us to be humble and not to expect respect for oneself. Nandīśvara, a devout servant of Lord Śiva, became angry due to Dakṣa’s behavior. He cursed Dakṣa and all his brāhmaṇa supporters who had tolerated his impudence. Nandīśvara angrily uttered, “Let Dakṣa soon have the head of a goat and his followers continue in saṁsāra, the cycle of birth and death, remaining attached to material activities.” Thus Nandīśvara not only condemned Dakṣa for his offense, but extended his anger to the brāhmaṇas as well for being on Dakṣa’s side. Triggered by Nandīśvara’s angry outburst against the brāhmaṇas, the sage Bhṛgu countercursed. He cursed not only Nandīśvara but the entire clan of Lord Śiva’s followers. “Let the followers of Lord Śiva become atheists, be diverted from scriptural injunctions, become addicted to wine and flesh, and take shelter of heretical views.” Seeing the atmosphere surcharged with intense vibrations of anger, Lord Śiva became morose and left the place, hoping in that way to stop the cursing and countercursing. Pride, envy, and the resultant anger make one blaspheme and offend even exalted personalities. But great souls exemplify the quality of tolerance even in provoking situations. Supporting and siding with a bad person is a mistake. But everyone who is circumstantially on the side of a bad person is not necessarily bad. Therefore one shouldn’t condemn an entire group for the mistake of one or a few persons in that group. For instance, Bhīṣmadeva circumstantially sided with evil Duryodhana and fought against the virtuous Pāṇdavas and Lord Kṛṣṇa. But Bhīṣma was a pure devotee of Kṛṣṇa, and knowing this very well, Kṛṣṇa gave Bhīṣma His audience at the time of Bhīṣma’s departure from this world. *Overlooking an Overreaction* Once King Parīkṣit was fatigued and thirsty while in the forest. In search of water, he entered the cottage of the sage Śamīka. Parīkṣit asked him for some drinking water, but the sage, absorbed in meditation, didn’t respond. The king felt unwelcomed and momentarily angry. With his bow, he placed a dead snake on the sage’s shoulder as a gesture of response to a cold welcome. He then left for his palace. Shortly thereafter, Śṛṅgi, the sage’s son, came to know about these events. Being an immature boy, he blasphemed the kṣatriyas, calling them crows and watchdogs. He arrogantly cursed Parīkṣit to die in seven days by the bite of a snake-bird. Short-sighted Śṛṅgi couldn’t understand the severity of his punishment and its grave implications. On finding out about his son’s thoughtless overreaction towards the sinless king, Śamīka Ṛṣi regretted the curse. He prayed to the Supreme Lord to pardon his son’s impudence. Anger and arrogance in people who possess power cause undue disturbances to others. Power without self-control turns out to be destructive. Meanwhile in his palace, Parīkṣit contemplated his act and repented his misbehavior towards the sage, whom he now realized had been in trance. He condemned himself for offending a brāhmaṇa. He not only expected a punishment for his mistake, but also desired a punishment, so that he wouldn’t repeat such mistakes and his family members wouldn’t suffer due to his offenses. The world can conveniently blame a wrongdoer’s innocent family or friends, holding them guilty by association. Thus those connected to the culprit are also sometimes condemned or doubted. Being sincere, Parīkṣit took full responsibility for his mistake. He didn’t want his family members or anyone else to suffer on account of his own slipup.* As Parīkṣit was repenting thus, a student of Śamīka Ṛṣi named Gauramukha arrived at the palace. He informed Parīkṣit with deep embarrassment that he was cursed to die in seven days. Hearing this, Parīkṣit didn’t become angry or impulsively countercurse Śamīka or Śṛṅgi. The punishment Parīkṣit received was inappropriate and highly disproportionate to the insignificant mistake he had made. But being a mature devotee, Parīkṣit happily welcomed the curse as a blessing in disguise. He considered it an opportunity to retire from royal life and dedicate himself fully to the lotus feet of Lord Kṛṣṇa. Though one brāhmaṇa, Śṛṅgi, had cursed Parīkṣit severely, Parīkṣit didn’t condemn the entire brāhmaṇa class. Rather he took the association of many brāhmaṇas on the bank of the sacred Ganges and accepted the brāhmaṇa Śukadeva Gosvāmī as his *guru*, heard *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam* from him, and perfected his life. *Overreacting to a Father’s Death* After Parīkṣit heard the *Bhāgavatam* for seven days, the infamous snake-bird Takṣaka bit him. The body of the great, saintly, self-realized king Parīkṣit immediately burned to ashes by the fire of the snake’s poison. To everyone’s astonishment, a terrible cry echoed throughout the universe. Janamejaya, the son of Parīkṣit, became extremely angry at his father’s death by the snakebite. He resolved to perform a mighty sacrifice to offer all the snakes in the world into the sacrificial fire. Because of one snake’s biting his father, Janamejaya wanted to destroy all the snakes in the world. As Janamejaya’s fire sacrifice began, many snakes were falling into that sacrificial fire. Takṣaka, however, was not to be seen. Janamejaya asked the brāhmaṇas the reason for this. They replied that Indra was protecting Takṣaka because, out of fear, Takṣaka had approached Lord Indra for shelter. Unrelenting, Janamejaya then asked his priests to make Takṣaka, along with his protector Indra, fall into the sacrificial fire. The powerful priests then chanted *mantras* for offering Takṣaka together with Indra and the entire band of demigods as an oblation into the sacrificial fire. As a result, Indra, along with his airplane and Takṣaka, were thrown from their positions, and Indra became very disturbed. Seeing Indra’s plight, Bṛhaspati, the *guru* of the demigods, came and spoke to King Janamejaya. “This king of snakes has drunk the nectar of the immortal demigods. Consequently, he is not subject to the ordinary symptoms of old age and death. Please understand that life, death, and the afterlife are all caused by oneself through one’s own activities. No other agent is actually responsible for creating one’s happiness and distress. Anyone killed by snakes or thieves is just experiencing the reaction to past activities. Please stop this sacrifice intended to harm others. Many innocent snakes have already been burned to death.” Janamejaya humbly honored Bṛhaspati’s words and desisted from performing the snake sacrifice. He was aggrieved due to his beloved father’s death and became angry, but upon receiving the suggestions and counsel of an exalted brāhmaṇa, he gave up his anger. Even great souls might succumb to extreme emotions at times, but they are humble enough to admit their mistakes, rectify them, and not repeat them. *A Balanced Outlook* Drawing inspiration from the above cases, when we encounter people who commit mistakes we need to be careful not to label their communities or families as sinful or as partners in the crime, and not to overstep or overreact with our response. But we also need to understand that when we ourselves commit a mistake, our families or organizations could be condemned, lose reputation, or even be liable for punishment. The *Bhāgavatam* offers a number of examples of groups who suffered because of the action of one person. Indra once offended Durvāsā by dishonoring the flower garland Durvāsā offered him, and consequently all the demigods lost their positions in heaven. Rāvaṇa, the king of demons, kidnapped chaste Sītā Devī and brought about the ruination of his family and race at the hands of Lord Rāma and His monkey soldiers. When Indra once neglected to welcome his *guru* Bṛhaspati, all the demigods eventually lost their opulence. Duryodhana’s envy of the Pāṇḍavas and offense to chaste Draupadī caused the destruction of his ninety-nine brothers and many other family members and kings. So we should be careful not to cause difficulties or ill reputation for our community, family, or institution by inappropriate attitudes and behaviors. We need to conduct ourselves with integrity and responsibility and try to carefully avoid conduct that may be deemed inappropriate. Otherwise, one person’s mistake could turn out to be a black spot on an entire community and cause unnecessary problems for innocent bystanders or future generations. *Parīkṣit’s unprecedented mistake was actually a part of the Supreme Lord Kṛṣṇa’s plan. The proof was that Parīkṣit never disrespected brāhmaṇas before or after this incident, nor had he ever been so overwhelmed by hunger or thirst. By putting such a devotee as Parīkṣit in awkward circumstances, the Lord descended in the form of *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam* and also revealed to us the glorious character of Parīkṣit, who exhibited tolerance and forgiveness in provoking situations. *Gaurāṅga Darśana Dāsa (www.gaurangadarshan.com), a disciple of His Holiness Radhanath Swami, is the dean of Bhaktiveda¯nta Vidyapitha at ISKCON Govardhan Eco Village, outside Mumbai, and a member of ISKCON Board of Examinations. He is a śāstric teacher and is the author of Gita Subodhini, Bhagavata Subodhini, Caitanya Subodhini, Disapproved but Not Disowned, Bhagavata Pravaha, and other books.* Faith Files *Both religion and science can be objects of faith.* by Harivaṁśa Dāsa The volatile history of human faith, and understanding faith through *Gītā* wisdom. The word faith comes from the Latin word fides (or the old-French word feid), which means to have confidence or trust in a person, thing, or concept. The object of faith can be this-worldly or otherworldly. It is important to note, however, that the object of faith must be beyond the usual human sense perception. Otherwise, what reason do we have to even talk about vesting our trust in something which somebody can unambiguously see, hear, smell, taste, or touch? An apple’s hanging on a tree, falling through the air, and landing on the ground does not involve the territory of faith—the apple is changing its states right in front of the observer’s eyes. In this example, the matters of faith are instead concerned with the law of gravity, an abstract theoretical construct formulated to render tenable the daily “falling” events of the world. The law itself is beyond normal sense perception—we cannot see, hear, smell, taste, or touch it. We do see the objects falling, but whether an object will fall everywhere and in all situations, as dictated by the “law of gravity,” cannot be ascertained for sure. This is because no one has verified this law in temporal and geographical terms exhaustively. Nonetheless, we all believe in the law of gravity, which makes it and not the falling of the apple a contender for the object of one’s faith. And so also are the sacred texts of various religious traditions of the world objects of one’s faith. The narratives in these texts—such as the story of the primordial couple, Adam and Eve in the Bible, or the carrying of the mountain of medicinal herbs by Hanumān during the war between Rāma and Rāvaṇa in the Rāmāyaṇa—are beyond sense perception. They cannot be proven or disproven. Yet very much like the law of gravity, which provides material predictability in our daily lives, narratives such as those of the Bible or the Rāmāyaṇa, provide for many people a psychological framework for existence and an enduring spiritual purpose larger than material life; they proffer a grand vision to help them navigate the material world meaningfully, morally, and spiritually. Religion and science both, therefore, can be the objects of faith for the faithful. History, however, has scarcely remained unbiased in matters of faith for the last two millennia in the West, a phenomenon which has had its ramifications in the East too. This essay briskly time-travels to come face to face with the competing objects of human faith and provides a view through the lens of Vedic literature, primarily *Bhagavad-gītā* and *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam*. *Modernity—When Reason Replaced Tradition* Eppur si mouve: “Still it moves.” Priests of modernity reckon this historical phrase as the harbinger of the rise of the age of reason and the absolute monarchy of empirical facts. It was first used as the title of an episode by an Italian literary critic and linguist, Giuseppe Baretti, in his book The Italian Library. The episode concerns the transfer of the celebrated mathematician, physicist, and philosopher Galileo Galilei from house arrest to his home in Arcetri near Florence, where he lived till the end of his life. Giuseppe Baretti writes: “The moment he was set at liberty, he looked up to the sky and down to the ground, and, stamping with his foot, in a contemplative mood, said, Eppur si muove, that is, still it moves, meaning the Earth.” Christian tradition had long supported the Aristotelian geocentric viewpoint that the sun moved around the earth, while Galileo, following his predecessor Copernicus, postulated a heliocentric model of the universe—that the earth moved around the sun. Galileo’s Eppur si mouve was directed against this specific faith in the Christian dogma which he wanted to challenge with the facts, for he was an ardent lover of God’s fascinating creation; it was not against the entire Christian religion. He valued reason—scientific inquiry based on empirical observations—much more than revelation from the sacred texts, at least for the observable phenomenon of the world, and in particular regarding planetary motion. The social fallout was significant. Galileo’s trial and his dogged faith in his theories gave a host of reasons for those frustrated with religious hegemonies to altogether sever their ties with religion. The high priests of science decided to purge the connection of science with religion altogether, widening the existing gap between the two. What earlier began as just a dispute within Christian circles over whether to preference revelation or reason now got full blown into the establishment of two polar opposites—religion on one side, and science, now modern science, on the other. Yet science per se does not reside outside the territory of faith. Certainly the objects of modern science may be more empirical in nature. For example, the law of gravity has greater reproducibility than the principles enshrined in the sacred scriptures. This is because the gravitational law can be empirically testified. Nonetheless, the law of gravity still remains at best a hypothesis that has not yet been falsified, for it has not been tested rigorously and comprehensively at all times and everywhere and, in general, between any two interacting bodies. Faith, therefore, is an essential cornerstone in the foundation of modern science as well. Galileo’s trial marked a transition in human thought which moved from tradition to modernity. Now the grand narrative would not be via religion, as in the days of tradition, but through scientific empirical observations and the theories thereof. The traditional anecdotes and the guiding principles would be hence considered mythological and allegorical at best, and in the face of modern science, irrelevant distractions. Human faith was now monopolized by a brand-new object—modern science. *Post-modernism—Experience Alone Rules* As we march on further in the twenty-first century, neither the religious adherents nor the science proponents stand out. The Age of Enlightenment, which had crowned modernity, already saw disillusionment with the modern science. The bloody wars of the twentieth century and the perils at individual, societal, and ecological levels which the scientific advancement unleashed further affected the reputation of modern science. Science is certainly recognized and embraced for its utilitarian purposes, but not as the single contender for the object of one’s faith. So who gets to keep the booty of faith in the new millennium? It is neither tradition nor science. Rather, it is one’s subjective experience. The age of post-modernism begins. Knocking off both religion and science as objects of one’s faith, post-modernism attempts to relativize everything—one may choose whatever he or she feels like choosing! After all, didn’t somebody say, as postmodernist may argue, that one man’s food is another man’s poison? As long as faith helps one make sense of this increasingly complex world, it can be consigned anywhere—that will be one’s science, one’s religion. The Vedas, Buddha, Tesla, the Beatles, AI, Bitcoin, what have you—anything can be the object of one’s version of “faith” as long as it doesn’t interfere with another’s version. Post-modernist argue that there cannot be just one single contender for the object of one’s faith, for everything is socially conditioned and contextual. Earlier, tradition and then modern science both gave their versions of a grand narrative or universal theory. Post-modernism, however, eschews any unified understanding. Do we start the twenty-first century on flimsy grounds where everything is relative and we have no unifying understanding of our existence? Did science and religion both fail completely? Do we have to live with an amorphous faith? Far from the West, can the classic and concise spiritual texts *Bhagavad-gītā* and *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam*, which have wielded authority in practical metaphysics for ages, speak to us to shed some light on the understanding of faith and its volatile history? *Śraddhā*—Firm Grounds Through *Bhagavad-gītā* and *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam* In *Bhagavad-gītā* Kṛṣṇa charts out a level playing field to evaluate beliefs in any phenomenon, whether science or religion or one’s subjective experience. He denotes faith with the word śraddhā, broken down as śrat, “truth,” and dhā, “holding.” Thus śraddhā is the quality to hold truth. But the question here is, What is the truth? Kṛṣṇa explains: > sattvānurūpā sarvasya > śraddhā bhavati bhārata > śraddhā-mayo ’yaṁ puruṣo > yo yac-chraddhaḥ sa eva saḥ “O son of Bharata, according to one’s existence under the various modes of nature, one evolves a particular kind of faith. The living being is said to be of a particular faith according to the modes he has acquired.” *(Gītā* 17.3) Kṛṣṇa says that relative truths fall under several categories corresponding to varied psychophysical dispositions, known in the Vedic canon as guṇas, or “modes” of material nature. These psychophysical dispositions are described as complex combinations of one’s internal makeup duly influenced by the external ambience. Thus the result is the inclination to a particular relative truth. Kṛṣṇa calls this inclination “a particular kind of faith”—a particular śraddhā. Therefore the object of one’s faith is closely tied up with one’s modality, i.e., one’s particular conditioning by the modes of nature. And as the modality itself is dynamic *(Gītā* 14.10), morphing and transforming through life’s events and experiences, the object of one’s faith too is a shape-shifter. Through individual change, the dominant faith of the collective human society also changes its object with time, as we saw earlier through the bumpy history of faith from tradition to modernity to post-modernism. A categorization of various objects (vastu) in which society may place its faith is provided by the notable Vaiṣṇava theologian Viśvanātha Cakravartī Thākura in his commentary to the second verse of *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam*: Avastu—unreal objects (the prefix a indicates their illusory nature) such as dreams, rabbit horns, flowers in the sky, the fantasy worlds of Hogwarts and the Matrix, and so on. The object, such as a rabbit’s horn, may not exist, but the idea exists, along with the concomitant emotional and intellectual investment. Avāstavaṁ vastu—objects which are real in our perception but have temporary existence (avāstavam). According to Vedic philosophy, this is the entire phenomenal existence, the world of matter, for even though it is real, it is temporary and goes through repeated cycles of creation and destruction. Vāstavaṁ vastu—objects which are real and eternal (*vāstavam*). According to *Bhagavad-gītā* and *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam*, this refers to the name, form, qualities, etc., of the Supreme Personality of Godhead, Kṛṣṇa, His eternal abodes such Vaikuṇṭha and Goloka, His devotees, and the process of devotional service (*bhakti*) to Him. The import is that faith in unreal objects (avastu), or in real but temporary objects (avāstavaṁ vastu), or in ideologies associated within their domain (which includes even the types of religion in human society that are mainly concerned with material duties and economic prosperity), all constitute holding on to temporary, relative, and hence perishable truths. As modalities morph individually and collectively, humanity is bound to witness further newer variants of such relative truths as monopolizers of human faith. These relative truths, however, are all temporary. *Bhagavad-gītā’s* central message is this: the permanent—us, whose real identity is the soul behind psychophysical dispositions—cannot settle for the temporary. Due to the ephemeral nature of these relative truths, both their associated meaning and the happiness in life they produce are flaky and fleeting. But above all of these relative truths is the enduring faith, which rests on the Absolute Truth (sat), which Vedic tradition addresses as Kṛṣṇa. This is because both the illusory existence of the unreal objects (avastu) and the conditional existence of the real but temporary objects (avāstavaṁ vastu) rest on the Absolute Truth. And as Kṛṣṇa states this in the *Bhagavad-gītā* (7.7): “O conqueror of wealth, there is no truth superior to Me. Everything rests upon Me, as pearls are strung on a thread.” Faith with its object as the Absolute Truth is different from materially motivated religious tradition, empirically conscious modernity, and experience-obsessed post-modernism. This faith is enduring due to the nature of its object and therefore can bring everlasting peace and happiness to the faithful. Hence, as has been seen and recorded through the history of humankind, the intelligent and astute perceivers of the world, who are expert in sifting the real from the unreal, work to garner and safeguard this particular variant of faith—faith in the Absolute Truth, Kṛṣṇa. Other varieties of faith, such as faith in scientific theories about the pragmatic operation of the world, in religious traditions with primary interest in subtle or gross material enjoyment, or in subjective individual experiences, are appreciated and accepted by the wise insofar as they help live sustainably in the material world and nudge one towards firm conviction and subsequent realization about Kṛṣṇa. *Śrimad-Bhāgavatam*, the revered text promoting this single-minded search for transcendence, speaks categorically as follows in verse 1.2.10: “Life’s desires should never be directed toward sense gratification. One should desire only a healthy life, or self-preservation, since a human being is meant for inquiry about the Absolute Truth. Nothing else should be the goal of one’s works.” *Harivaṁśa Dāsa teaches computer science at a top-tier graduate institution in Mumbai and is closely involved in the academic affairs of the Bhaktivedanta Research Center, Mumbai.* In His Divine Opinion *When Kṛṣṇa expresses His opinion, we would do well to pay attention.* by Jitendra Savenur Unlike us, when Lord Kṛṣṇa gives His opinion, it’s perfect. A famous quote by Plato reads, “Opinion is the medium between knowledge and ignorance.” In other words, we tend to have opinions about things of which we’re neither completely ignorant nor fully knowledgeable. Our opinions are often fraught with the limitation of our lack of access to complete or absolute knowledge, as well as with our limited ability to process the knowledge we do have access to. Subsequently, the opinions we might form based on our abilities are also, from an absolute perspective, relative and imperfect. Therefore, in the relative world one opinion is debunked and proven to be flawed by a second opinion, and a third opinion does the same to the second, and so on. In the Mahābhārata Yudhiṣṭhira Mahārāja summarizes this process within the Vedic fold when he says: > tarko ’pratiṣṭhaḥ śrutayo vibhinnā > nāsāv ṛṣir yasya mataṁ na bhinnam > dharmasya tattvaṁ nihitaṁ guhāyāṁ > mahājano yena gataḥ sa panthāḥ “Dry arguments are inconclusive. A great personality whose opinion does not differ from others is not considered a great sage. Simply by studying the Vedas, which are variegated, one cannot come to the right path by which religious principles are understood. The solid truth of religious principles is hidden in the heart of an unadulterated, self-realized person. Consequently, as the śāstras confirm, one should accept whatever progressive path the mahājanas [“great persons”] advocate.” But this invites the question whether any opinion is absolutely perfect. Every opinion is based on something. Therefore, do the mahājanas mentioned by Yudhiṣṭhira Mahārāja base their opinions on something absolute, some sort of perfect opinion? Even if for a moment we were to accept that some opinions are truly perfect, the source of such opinions would have to be perfect too. In the context of Vaiṣṇava theology, the most perfect person in the entire creation is none other than its creator, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, that supreme source from whom everything, spiritual as well as material, emanates. That is Lord Kṛṣṇa, who descended into this world about five thousand years ago. Among His many wonderful instructions to His various devotees, the ones that Arjuna received on the battlefield of Kurukshetra are considered the essence of all Vedic knowledge. The *Bhagavad-gītā*, with its supreme philosophical depth, has come to be commented upon by scholarly minds over and over in an attempt to decode its true essence. In the *Bhagavad-gītā* Kṛṣṇa unambiguously expresses His opinion in a number of verses. These verses, if seen from an unbiased perspective, also direct us to the essence of the *Bhagavad-gītā*. Let us look at these verses one by one in the progression of the Gītā’s chapters.* *The Topmost Yogi* The first instance where Kṛṣṇa is offering His opinion occurs in the sixth chapter. Kṛṣṇa has just concluded His instructions to Arjuna on aṣṭāṅga-yoga, the yoga system consisting of eight steps, beginning from yama, restraint, and concluding in samādhi, trance. Arjuna then asks Kṛṣṇa: What happens to the *yogi* who has forsaken his material possessions to make spiritual progress but within his current lifetime does not attain perfection in the *yogi*c process? After telling Arjuna that the *yogi* gets the chance to continue his practice in the next life, Kṛṣṇa then elevates the definition of a *yogi* to the highest level possible when He says: > yoginām api sarveṣāṁ > mad-gatenāntar-ātmanā > śraddhāvān bhajate yo māṁ > sa me yuktatamo mataḥ “And of all *yogīs*, the one with great faith who always abides in Me, thinks of Me within himself and renders transcendental loving service to Me—he is the most intimately united with Me in *yoga* and is the highest of all. That is My opinion.” (Gītā 6.47) (Italics added here and in upcoming verses.) In this verse, loving devotion to Kṛṣṇa is being glorified as the highest platform of *yoga* one can achieve. Śrīla Prabhupāda writes in his purport to this verse: “The word bhajate is significant here. Bhajate has its root in the verb bhaj, which is used when there is need of service. The English word ‘worship’ cannot be used in the same sense as bhaj. Worship means to adore, or to show respect and honor to the worthy one. But service with love and faith is especially meant for the Supreme Personality of Godhead.” Further in the purport, he also mentions the *yoga* ladder, which begins from the rung of karma-*yoga* and goes all the way to bhakti-*yoga*, the culmination of all *yogic* paths. *The Dearmost Seeker* The next instance where Kṛṣṇa expresses His opinion comes in the seventh chapter. From that chapter onwards, Kṛṣṇa speaks about *bhakti-yoga*, or loving devotion to Him, as a means to achieve the highest perfection of life. When doing so in the seventh chapter, He speaks about the four kinds of people who approach Him, namely, the distressed, the desirer of wealth, the inquisitive, and the one who is in search of knowledge of the Absolute Truth. After mentioning the four categories of people who approach Him, Kṛṣṇa mentions that among them, the one who is in search of knowledge of the Absolute Truth is most dear to Him (*priyo hi jñānino ’tyartham*). In the next verse Kṛṣṇa says: > udārāḥ sarva evaite > jñānī tv ātmaiva me matam > āsthitaḥ sa hi yuktātmā > mām evānuttamāṁ gatim “All these devotees are undoubtedly magnanimous souls, but he who is situated in knowledge of Me I consider to be just like My own self. Being engaged in My transcendental service, he is sure to attain Me, the highest and most perfect goal.” (*Gītā* 7.18) In the synonyms for this verse, Śrīla Prabhupāda translates the word matam as “opinion.” Kṛṣṇa is expressing His opinion here: He considers that the one in knowledge of Him is just like His own self, and that such a devotee is sure to attain Him. Indeed, this verse, like 6.47, is glorifying *bhakti-yoga*, or devotional service to Kṛṣṇa, as the highest *yogic* process. *The Supersoul* After Kṛṣṇa describes the glories of pure devotional service and displays His universal form to Arjuna, the discussion between Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna moves into the context of knowledge, or *jñāna*. And right at the outset of this section, in the third verse of the thirteenth chapter, Kṛṣṇa mentions His opinion yet again. Arjuna begins the thirteenth chapter by asking Kṛṣṇa to define certain technical terms, like prakṛti (nature), puruṣa (the enjoyer), the field and the knower of the field, and knowledge and the object of knowledge. Kṛṣṇa’s answer: > kṣetra-jñaṁ cāpi māṁ viddhi > sarva-kṣetreṣu bhārata > kṣetra-kṣetrajñayor jñānaṁ > yat taj jñānaṁ mataṁ mama “O scion of Bharata, you should understand that I am also the knower in all bodies, and to understand this body and its knower is called knowledge. That is My opinion.” *(Gītā* 13.3) In this verse, Kṛṣṇa is reiterating that He is the Supreme Personality of Godhead by saying that He is the knower in all bodies. Kṛṣṇa is indicating His manifestation as the Supersoul, or Paramātmā, in the body of every living being. Śrīla Prabhupāda writes in his purport: “The individual may be the knower of his own body, but he is not in knowledge of other bodies. The Supreme Personality of Godhead, who is present as the Supersoul in all bodies, knows everything about all bodies. He knows all the different bodies of all the various species of life.” *Working Without Attachment* Finally, the last instance in the *Bhagavad-gītā* where Kṛṣṇa expresses His opinion comes in the eighteenth chapter. Kṛṣṇa has concluded the seventeenth chapter by describing sacrifice in various modes of material nature. The eighteenth chapter begins with a query by Arjuna: “O mighty-armed one, I wish to understand the purpose of renunciation [tyāga] and of the renounced order of life [sannyāsa], O killer of the Keśī demon, master of the senses.” After defining the terms tyāga and sannyāsa, Kṛṣṇa emphasizes that acts of charity, austerity, and penance should not be given up (Gītā 18.5). However, such acts should be of a certain quality, evident from the following words of Kṛṣṇa: > etāny api tu karmāṇi > saṅgaṁ tyaktvā phalāni ca > kartavyānīti me pārtha > niścitaṁ matam uttamam “All these activities should be performed without attachment or any expectation of result. They should be performed as a matter of duty, O son of Pṛthā. That is My final opinion.” (Gītā 18.6) Kṛṣṇa is emphasizing here that instead of giving up activity itself, which is what sannyāsa entails, it is better to act, but without expectation of result and without attachment to one’s position and possessions. On the next level up, if the fruits of our activities are then used to further Kṛṣṇa consciousness in a personal as well as social context, we end up engaging in what Śrīla Rūpa Gosvāmī calls yukta-vairāgya, proper renunciation. Kṛṣṇa then continues summarizing the *Bhagavad-gītā* and concludes His instructions to Arjuna. *Arjuna’s and Sañjaya’s Opinions* It is worth noting that it is not just Kṛṣṇa who expresses His opinions in the *Gītā*. Arjuna and Sañjaya express their opinions too. In the eleventh chapter, when Arjuna witnesses Kṛṣṇa’s universal form he is awestruck and composes a number of prayers, including: > tvam akṣaraṁ paramaṁ veditavyaṁ > tvam asya viśvasya paraṁ nidhānam > tvam avyayaḥ śāśvata-dharma-goptā > sanātanas tvaṁ puruṣo mato me “You are the supreme primal objective. You are the ultimate resting place of all this universe. You are inexhaustible, and You are the oldest. You are the maintainer of the eternal religion, the Personality of Godhead. This is my opinion.” (*Gīta* 11.18) Finally, in the last verse of the *Bhagavad-gītā* (18.78), Sañjaya is indirectly answering Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s original question, asked in the beginning of the Gītā (1.1): “O Sañjaya, after my sons and the sons of Pāṇḍu assembled in the place of pilgrimage at Kurukṣetra, desiring to fight, what did they do?” Sañjaya says in the final verse: > yatra yogeśvaraḥ kṛṣṇo > yatra pārtho dhanur-dharaḥ > tatra śrīr vijayo bhūtir > dhruvā nītir matir mama “Wherever there is Kṛṣṇa, the master of all mystics, and wherever there is Arjuna, the supreme archer, there will also certainly be opulence, victory, extraordinary power, and morality. That is my opinion.” *(Gītā* 18.78) Arjuna and Sañjaya, unlike Kṛṣṇa, are not the Supreme Personality of Godhead. So is it worth placing importance on their opinions? The answer is yes, the reason being that their opinions are in harmony with the instructions of Kṛṣṇa. An important lesson for us: as long as our opinions align with Kṛṣṇa’s instructions and the words of the scriptures, they are spiritually acceptable. However, if we are not true to the spirit and vision of the scriptures and the words of the *guru* and sadhu, then our opinions will be tainted by our own limitations and conditionings, taking us further away from realizing scripture’s sublime spiritual truths. *A Bridge to Knowledge* When we base our opinions on the pure teachings of Kṛṣṇa or His true representatives, we also become true representatives of His timeless message. Therefore, the *guru*, a pure representative of Kṛṣṇa, is glorified as nondifferent from Him. Śrīla Prabhupāda’s writes in his purport to *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam* 4.29.51: “Śrīla Viśvanātha Cakravartī Ṭhākura says, sākṣād-dharitvena samasta-śāstrair uktas tathā bhāvyata eva sadbhiḥ: the spiritual master is described in every scripture as the representative of the Supreme Personality of Godhead. The spiritual master is accepted as identical with the Supreme Personality of Godhead because he is the most confidential servant of the Lord (kintu prabhor yaḥ priya eva tasya).” Thus, if we look at Plato’s quote about opinion mentioned in the beginning of this article from the perspective of the *Bhagavad-gītā*, we can very well say that when it comes to the opinions of the Supreme Personality of Godhead Śrī Kṛṣṇa, such opinions, instead of being stuck somewhere between knowledge and ignorance, are the much-needed bridge that transports us from the platform of ignorance to the platform of true knowledge. *In many places in the *Gītā* Śrīla Prabhupāda translates the Sanskrit words matam/mato/mataḥ/mati as “opinion.” I have not included the verses where Śrīla Prabhupāda translates them differently. *Jitendra Savanur got connected to Kṛṣṇa consciousness through ISKCON Pune’s youth forum. He holds a master’s degree in computer science. He lives in Jersey City, New Jersey, and works in the technology division of Goldman Sachs.* The Remedy for an Over-Salted Condition *Two taste-destroyers: too much salt in a food preparation, and too much attachment to material things.* by Karuṇā Dhārinī Devī Dāsī Devotees gratefully accept what Kṛṣṇa provides and strive to use everything in His service. The aroma of a freshly prepared breakfast fills the air. To quell their morning hunger, friendly devotees gather to honor food prepared for and offered to Lord Kṛṣṇa. The kicchari—spicy rice, mung dāl, and fresh vegetables—appears wholesome and savory. Spoon in hand, devotees raise the trusted preparation to their ready mouths. Then something unexpected occurs. When placed on the tongue, the kicchari creates a bracing chemical reaction. “Can we eat this?” “Oh, horrible!” Murmurs sober the jovial atmosphere in the room. “What a pity! Too much salt!” So it may happen. Sometimes a preparation is incorrectly salted and cannot be eaten lest we are sickened. On the other hand, with no salt the flavor of many foods is inhibited. Fittingly, Śrīla Prabhupāda compared the collection and use of resources and wealth to the use of salt. If we take too much, we spoil our life, and if we use too little, life is tasteless. Once when a disciple accidently added too much salt to an item she had prepared for Śrīla Prabhupāda’s lunch, he didn’t mention it. But the next day during a discourse on *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam*, he likened over-salting to extreme endeavor. He explained that engaging in action that requires too much effort can distract us from the purpose of our devotional practice, as much as too much salt can ruin otherwise tasty food. *Over-endeavoring/Over-collecting* Atyāhāra and prayāsa are twin words that appear in the second verse of The Nectar of Instruction, by Śrīla Rūpa Gosvāmī. Atyāhāra and prayāsa translate as “intense endeavor” and “over-collection.” Just as too much salt spoils the broth, ambitious hard work for more than we require in our lives destroys self-realization. Why is that? Our constitutional nature is pure spirit, so to meditate on material things and strive hard for them contradicts the heart of our being. Not surprisingly, sincere devotees of Kṛṣṇa often report feeling bored or burned out by extending themselves for various complicated business negotiations and other efforts for material acquirements. When the parents of a disciple of Śrīla Prabhupāda mentioned to him that his students were not very ambitious, Prabhupāda replied, “Yes, that is so.” They thought he must have misunderstood their comment. Their intention was to inform him that his disciples did not work hard, such as in a nine-to-five job. When they repeated their comment, he answered, “Yes, they have no ambition.” The couple was taken aback. From their point of view, to work very hard was laudable. But Śrīla Prabhupāda preferred not to cultivate material ambition among his disciples, and he was satisfied to hear they had none. As a matter of fact, he considered it an obstacle to the future of genuine human prosperity. How is human prosperity endangered by materialistic hard work? To understand this, we may consider Prabhupāda’s example of a circle drawn by a compass. Each circle you draw around the center point will be either larger or smaller than the others, but they will not intersect one another. Similarly, when people put Kṛṣṇa in the center, their lives don’t clash with one another. Hard work for general human prosperity isn’t effective because when Kṛṣṇa is not in the center, interests clash. Furthermore, the money earned through hard work generally leads to negative results. Prabhupāda explains: That is the illusion of material nature. As a result of the impulse for sense gratification, money is earned by spoiled energy, and it is then spent for the destruction of the human race. The energy of the human race is thus spoiled by the law of nature, and the money itself will become the cause of destruction instead of becoming the cause of peace and prosperity. (“The Formula for Peace,” Back to Godhead, 1956) Śrīla Prabhupāda’s words in this decades-old article ring clear and true to this day. In the early twenty-first century, the destruction of the bounty of earth’s natural resources is fully imminent. A tense human society totters on the edge of the loss of the God-given opulence that has been at our fingertips and all around us for eons. Our industrial achievements have been supersized, our moral and spiritual condition downsized. *Perfect Wealth Is the Gift of Kṛṣṇa* The poverty or wealth of devotees who are attached to Kṛṣṇa’s service is not at all like that of those who disregard Him. In this sense we can say their lives are perfectly and transcendentally salted. The life of the devotee Sudāmā Brāhmaṇa is a powerful example of this. Sudāmā was a very poor brāhmaṇa by choice. In one way his life was extremely under-salted. Yet his perfection was assured because his heart was filled with love for Kṛṣṇa. Sudāmā was a strict brāhmaṇa who didn’t want anything for himself. As a youth he had been Kṛṣṇa’s classmate when they attended the school of their spiritual master. Throughout the rest of Sudāmā’s life in separation from the Lord, he considered Kṛṣṇa his beloved friend and worshipable Lord. One day, Sudāmā’s devoted wife requested Him to pay Kṛṣṇa a visit. She had become thin and ill due to sharing Sudāmā’s life of poverty. She wanted him to ask Kṛṣṇa for a benediction that would surely lessen their suffering. Sudāmā agreed to go; he wanted to see Kṛṣṇa again after so many years. Just entering the precincts of Dwarka caused Sudāmā to forget everything because he was filled with spiritual bliss. He stood for a moment in silence at the door of Queen Rukmiṇī’s palace. Kṛṣṇa happened to be there, and the humble Sudāmā was greeted and worshiped by the divine couple. Rukmiṇī fanned the poor brāhmaṇa, clothed in stained, torn cloth, his veins visible all over his body. Lord Kṛṣṇa bathed his feet and offered worship to him. Kṛṣṇa and Sudāmā later took each other’s hands and talked sweetly about how they had lived together in the school of their *guru*. Then Kṛṣṇa inquired about any food Sudāmā might have brought from home as an offering to Him. Sudāmā hung his head in shame. He had indeed brought something, but it was only poor-man’s food, which he considered unfit for Lord Kṛṣṇa. According to *Bhāgavatam* commentator Viśvanātha Cakravartī Ṭhākura, Sudāmā thought, “Even if You request it from me, Kṛṣṇa, I will not give it to You,” while Kṛṣṇa thought, “The intention you had fixed in your mind in coming here must not be frustrated, for you are My beloved devotee.” Then Kṛṣṇa snatched the little bag of dry rice from Sudāmā and said, “This gives Me extreme pleasure!” He ate a handful of it. “Not only does this satisfy Me, but it will satisfy the entire universe.” Afterwards Sudāmā was led to his own room, where he was fed sumptuously by Kṛṣṇa’s many servants and induced to rest comfortably. Though on the urging of his wife Sudāmā had come to Dwarka to gain something, the next day he departed from the palace empty-handed. In the ecstasy of pure love, his only thoughts were meditation on the glories of Kṛṣṇa. He thought, for example, “Devotional service to His lotus feet is the root cause of all the perfections a person can find in heaven, in liberation, in the subterranean regions and on earth.” *(Bhāgavatam* 10.81.19) Sudāmā never once thought himself a candidate for owning wealth; he thought it would somehow distract him from his worship. For that reason he was inimical to all kinds of sense gratification. But Kṛṣṇa had another plan. When Sudāmā arrived at his old residence, he was amazed by what he saw. It was now a palace filled with opulence that could rival that of the king of heaven. His wife, along with her newly acquired servants, was dressed so gorgeously that Sudāmā could not even recognize her. At that moment his bodily appearance also transformed. For Lord Kṛṣṇa there is no Deity higher than His pure devotees. He accepts them as His masters. In Dwarka He daily performed sacrificial ceremonies to worship thousands of brāhmaṇas. He was therefore obliged and greatly pleased to bestow great wealth on one humble Sudāmā Brāhmaṇa, who prayed only that he would not use that wealth for his own sense gratification. As in the case of Sudāmā Brāhmaṇa, ambition to love and serve Kṛṣṇa is a purely spiritual affair, and the Lord supplies facility to those devotees who can use it to help them in their service. The paraphernalia of sacrifice to Kṛṣṇa is absolutely Kṛṣṇa; the opulence of pure devotees is as perfect as God Himself. Like Sudāmā, Śrīla Prabhupāda is an example of the utterly amazing facility the Lord will bestow upon a devotee who is surrendered to purely serving Him. Prabhupāda arrived in America with what he called “a few hours’ spending in New York,” yet due to his earnest pure mood of service to his spiritual master, within ten years his assets totaled many millions of dollars. All of it was one hundred percent for the service of his mission to propagate Kṛṣṇa consciousness. *The Cure for Our Salty Ambition* Śrīla Prabhupāda is a practical example of how someone can use absolutely everything in Kṛṣṇa’s mission. He knew the formula for peace. Though decades old, Śrīla Prabhupāda’s instructions carry greater weight now than ever. The article “The Formula for Peace,” which contains his profound lesson regarding salt in the broth, was published in his Back to Godhead magazine in 1956, the year of my birth. Just as he warned, the demand for economic development and sense gratification has become more and more harmful. People are increasingly manipulated by it. The practices of austerity, truthfulness, cleanliness, and mercy fade. The soul of mankind grows deaf to rational spiritual advice. From “The Formula for Peace”: By the arrangement of the Supreme Lord, there is an ocean of salt, because salt is necessary for the living being. In the same manner God has arranged for sufficient air and light, which are also essential for the living being. One can collect any amount of salt from the storehouse, but one cannot take more salt than he needs. If he takes more salt he spoils the broth, and if he takes less salt his eatables become tasteless. On the other hand, if he takes only what he absolutely requires, the food is tasty and he is healthy. So ambition for more wealth than we need is harmful, just as eating more salt than we absolutely need is harmful. That is the law of nature. The more the increase of troublesome industry, the more the dissatisfaction of the people in general, though a select few may live lavishly, up to their necks in the brine. Gigantic industrial enterprises are products of a civilization that does not know that Śrī, the goddess of fortune, is always guarded by the four arms of Śrī Niketana, a name for Kṛṣṇa or Nārāyaṇa that means that He is Śrī’s own abode, her resting place, her protector, her keeper. Śrī is also known as Lakṣmī, a name often used as a synonym for money or wealth. The misuse of Kṛṣṇa’s Lakṣmī violates the primordial laws of the universe. Just as Śrī is eternally associated with Nārāyaṇa, the soul is naturally and eternally sheltered in a relationship with Kṛṣṇa. We living entities are not meant to be poverty stricken. Just as a son naturally enjoys the property of his father due to his relationship with him, every living being has the right to enjoy God’s property. Because Śrī rests on the chest of Nārāyaṇa, she naturally sees all living beings who approach to serve Him, and she bestows favors upon them. Devotees thus receive great facility and are able to accomplish the amazing. A devotee who wishes to open a kṛṣṇa-prasādam restaurant requires a suitably constructed building. Another devotee may become expert in a profitable business to finance a *bhakti* center on the request of his spiritual master. Still another may wear a valuable gold wedding band as a symbol of his vow of service to family members in assisting them in the progress of their Kṛṣṇa consciousness. Devotees may receive opulence for Kṛṣṇa conscious service but not regard it as their own achievement, as in the case of the pure devotee Sudāmā Brāhmaṇa. Regardless of our wealth or lack of it, Kṛṣṇa assures us in *Bhagavad-gītā* that as soon as we surrender unto Him, He squares our *karmic* account. He can at once lift our burden of *karma*, provided we are sincerely trying to return to His shelter. One may begin a new life by accepting initiation from a bona fide spiritual master, in which personal vows of austerity are taken. By accepting such regulation, even if the over-salted condition recurs in our lives, it is by far easier to detect and self-monitor, due to a more balanced life and a purified consciousness. Observing spiritual vows softens the heart so that we may see the gifts of Śrī in their true perspective, as privileges from a loving father. The devotee’s ambition is solely for a life of hard work in loving devotional service, tastefully seasoned to perfection. *Karuṇā Dhārinī Devī Dāsī, a disciple of His Grace Vīrabāhu Dāsa, serves the Deities at ISKCON Los Angeles, where she joined ISKCON in 1979. She has also been distributing Śrīla Prabhupāda’s books since her earliest days in Kṛṣṇa consciousness. She lives with her husband and daughter.* In Memoriam *Madhusūdana Dāsa Adhikārī (1948–2022)* By Satyarāja Dāsa When he spoke about Śrīla Prabhupāda, there was a sparkle in his eyes. That’s how I remember him. COVID may have taken the body, but it could never take his spirit. While listening to recordings of Śrīla Prabhupāda and surrounded by devotees chanting, he breathed his last on February 19 this year. Madhusūdana Dāsa’s life was one of devotional service, including important involvement with Back to Godhead magazine. He was born Michael Blumert in 1948, and a mere nineteen years later was living at 26 Second Avenue, the first ISKCON center in the West. Though he joined while Śrīla Prabhupāda was on the West Coast, he served with marked enthusiasm, living intimately with the pioneers of Prabhupāda’s movement—Brahmānanda, Gargamuni, Satsvarūpa, Jadurāṇī, Acyutānanda, and so on. He was initiated on April 15, 1967. Madhusūdana’s initial service was typing the manuscript for Prabhupāda’s Teachings of Lord Caitanya, incorporating the editor’s handwritten corrections. He worked closely with Rāyarāma, who was then Prabhupāda’s principal editor, and Jaya Govinda, who was doing the layout. After the TLC, they mainly worked on small booklets, leaflets, and Back to Godhead magazine. Jaya Govinda soon left to go to India, but before going trained Madhu to do layout and other prepress work for the magazine. “Gradually, the quality of the literature progressed,” wrote Madhu. “My service was growing, from typing to IBM composing, to page layout, and I loved being busy for Kṛṣṇa!” In fact, he had also written for BTG, including four poems and an essay on how he came to Kṛṣṇa consciousness. By November of 1968, Prabhupāda had written to him, encouraging him in his BTG work: “It is very good that you are helping to put out our magazine Back to Godhead, and whenever I see the new magazine mailed to me each month, I am so pleased to go through its contents and see all the nice work you have done, and you are always in my thoughts as I read through it, as well as Rayarama, and all your other co-workers. To make this magazine a great success is very very important to the mission. And you along with your co-workers are doing it very nicely. And Kṛṣṇa will bless you, please continue to do it.” From 1967 to 1972, Madhusūdana exchanged thirteen letters with Śrīla Prabhupāda. ISKCON Press soon moved to Boston, and he was called to the Boston temple to resume his prepress work, this time producing Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead and The Nectar of Devotion—and, of course, BTG. This was in 1970-71, and when in the spring of 1971 the Press relocated yet again, to Brooklyn, near the Henry Street temple, he and his wife naturally moved there as well. In the early to mid-1970s, when Jayādvaita (not yet Swami) was editor of BTG, Madhusūdana became its official “photographic technician,” as mentioned on its masthead throughout that period. Draviḍa Dāsa remembers him in Brooklyn: “Madhu was in production, working with the film to make it ready for the printer to turn it into plates for the actual printing press. For me in those days, Madhu was one of the many senior devotees whose steadiness, knowledge, bliss, and compassion gave me confidence in the process, the books, and, of course, in Śrīla Prabhupāda himself.” In 1975, the Bhaktivedanta Book Trust (BBT), as the Press was now called, moved its operations to California. There he worked as part of the marathon to finish the *Caitanya-caritāmṛta*. With the new millennium, after many years serving in numerous parts of California, Madhu and family moved to San Diego as part of the New Govardhana community, until his demise due to complications with COVID. As he prepared to leave this world, he was lovingly cared for by his wife and daughter, Kañcanabālā and Cintāmaṇi, and was also blessed with numerous visits from his many friends in the San Diego devotee community. He left this world very early in the morning, absorbed in hearing kṛṣṇa-kīrtana. Rest easy, dear friend. Book Excerpt: *Bhakti* Shakti: Goddess of Divine Love *Śrī Radha: Kṛṣṇa’s Primal Energy Perfect love and the perfect object of love.* by Prāṇada Devī Dāsī Narada prayed: “O you who are the life force of my Lord Kṛṣṇa! You are the supreme goddess of *bhakti*, divine love, and you bewilder even Govinda with your charm.” Excerpted from *Bhakti* Shakti: Goddess of Divine Love, by Pranada Comtois. Copyright © 2022 Pranada L. Comtois. All rights reserved. This excerpt, the first part of Chapter Six, retains the book’s style for Sanskrit and other considerations. The printed book is available from the Kṛṣṇa.com Store and Amazon.com, where the Kindle version can also be found. Audible.com has the audio version. Chapter Six *Perfect Love and the Perfect Object of Love* In times past, Vrisha-bhanu Mahārāja, a village king, left his home to walk to the Yamuna River to take his midday bath in the peaceful flow of its sacred waters. In the fields he passed on his way, cows lowed and peacocks cooed as if they were expressing relief that the summer’s oppressive heat was finally abating. On this half-moon day of Bhadra (August-September), Vrisha-bhanu was charmed by the beauty around him. The earth was bursting with green in all shades, nourished by the recent monsoons. As he neared the water, he saw a dazzling light in the middle of the river. He stared at it until he made out a glowing golden lotus flower. Actually, he wondered, is it a large lotus or a sun blazing brighter than a thousand suns? Astonished, Vrisha-bhanu waded into the sparkling river. He saw that the petals of that breathtaking lotus cradled a beautiful baby girl with a complexion of molten gold. His eyes widened and he gasped. Everyone had said that the girls in his village were exceptionally beautiful—like the goddesses of heaven—but the beauty of this delicate girl was unsurpassed. With great care he scooped her gently into his arms and took her home. The baby neither opened her eyes nor made a sound. His wife, Kirtida, was overjoyed at the unexpected arrival of the baby. The couple named her Radha. Each feature of the child’s face, every one of her limbs, was so stunningly beautiful that no one could take their eyes off her. But there was sadness, too. Even days later, the child still had not opened her eyes or made a sound. Would this special child of extraordinary birth be blind and dumb? As this question piqued the sorrowful hearts of the villagers, the great sage Narada Muni, sweetly strumming his vina, came to King Vrisha-bhanu’s home. The grieving monarch explained the situation and, knowing of Narada’s ability to perform miracles, placed his exquisite daughter in the sage’s lap. As soon as the child touched him, Narada was overwhelmed by ecstasy. The hairs on his body stood on end, tears gushed from his eyes, and he steadied himself so he could remain sitting upright. Sobered, the sage was stunned into silence. Then Radha decided to reveal her identity to the saint, who she knew had developed great love for her by practicing *yoga* *sadhana*. So in a divine vision no one but Narada could see, Radha appeared to him, sitting on a gem-studded throne under a wish-fulfilling tree with thousands of goddesses surrounding and worshiping her. A shimmering glow softened the air around her, and the ecstasy he was feeling, Narada realized, was Radha’s divine love entering his heart. Narada then closed his eyes and silently offered prayers: “O you who are the life force of my Lord Kṛṣṇa! You are the supreme goddess of *bhakti*, divine love, and you bewilder even Govinda [Kṛṣṇa] with your charm. All the demigods headed by Brahma and Shiva meditate on your lotus feet. You expand into Maha-Lakshmi, the goddess of fortune, but you are the adi-shakti, the original goddess, the source of all material and spiritual goddesses.” When the vision dissipated, Narada handed Radha back to her father, who looked at the sage apprehensively. “Your daughter will fill everyone with bliss, and your glory will spread far and wide.” “But will she open her eyes?” Vrisha-bhanu wanted to know. “She does not wish to see, hear, or speak about anyone or anything of this world. Don’t worry. One day very soon everything will become clear.” In the meantime, Vrisha-bhanu and Kirtida decided to arrange a festival to celebrate Radha’s birth. On the day of the event, guests assembled and the celebrations began. Then Nanda and Yashoda arrived from nearby Gokul, with Rohini and their small boys, Kṛṣṇa and Rama. Kirtida told Yashoda how happy she was to be blessed with a daughter, but explained that Radha appeared to be deaf, dumb, and blind. While the two mothers spoke, Kṛṣṇa, who had just passed his first birthday, crawled around the courtyard. Arriving at Radha’s crib, he pulled himself up and peered in at her beautiful moonlike face. As soon as Radha smelled the exotic fragrance of Kṛṣṇa’s transcendental body, she opened her eyes and looked directly at him. Kṛṣṇa smiled ecstatically, and Radha let out a joyful cry. It was her first sound, and a delighted Vrisha-bhanu and Kirtida rushed to her crib to find her beautiful blue eyes wide open. Principal Shaktis and What They Reveal The story I tell above comes from the Padma Purana, told by Shiva to his wife, Parvati (Durga). In this story we hear one of the many statements from a sacred text that speak of Śrī Radha as the adi-shakti, the original energy. Her preeminent position at the apex of the spiritual and material universes highlights love’s unique position as the original and primary power. Doesn’t that make abundant sense? What is more primal, more significant, or more meaningful than love? As we learned earlier, *yoga* philosophy states that there are unlimited *shaktis*. The *yoga* world in the West is becoming increasingly aware of *iccha-shakti*, *jnana-shakti*, and *kriya-shakti*, the energies of will and desire, knowledge, and action. But there are many, many more *shaktis*. Luckily, all shaktis fall within three broad categories of existence, making it easier to understand them. These are jiva-shakti, maya-shakti, and *bhakti-shakti*. We’ll define and explore these in the next three chapters. When we understand this shakti triad, a veil of illusion is withdrawn and the behind-the-scenes workings of the world and our own minds are revealed—sometimes with surprising clarity. Aspects of our self, psychology, material nature, and more, which were clouded in mystery, suddenly become self-evident, even common sense. Perhaps we’ll find ourselves more able to identify the mysterious at play in our lives, or understand what has been causing discord. My readers often explain how they become empowered to effect positive change when they begin to see with the light of this knowledge. Especially important for realizing the self and claiming our identity is understanding our relationship with the two shaktis personified as Durga Maa and Śrī Radha. Before we learn about the shakti triad, though, let’s explore the source of shakti, the shaktiman. Shaktiman Shaktis don’t exist independently. They don’t spring from nowhere; shaktis come from an energetic source and cannot exist without that source. The substratum of an energy is called the shaktiman in Sanskrit. The suffix man in shaktiman indicates an unbreakable relationship: shakti is possessed by the shaktiman. Shakti is never independent. Where there is shakti, there is shaktiman. For instance, the sun’s rays are the shakti of the sun, which is the shaktiman. A song is the shakti of a musician, who’s the shaktiman. There are no rays, there is no song, without their energetic source, the sun or a musician. While we can’t imagine the sun without its rays, and so we think of the rays as synonymous with the sun, the rays and the sun are different. The sun’s rays depend on the sun for their existence—if there were no sun, there could be no sunshine. The sun and its rays are therefore one and different simultaneously. So we can say that an energy is one with and different from its shaktiman at the same time. Shaktis have their own existences, yet they’re dependent on their shaktiman. Where there is shakti, there must be shaktiman. In the *yoga* philosophies, the one Absolute is the Shaktiman of all energies. This nondual Reality, the substratum of existence and all shaktis, manifests in three unique features. To understand something about these three manifestations of Shaktiman, we’re helped by reflecting on how reality at the microcosmic level mimics the macrocosmic. We are a unit of spirit/consciousness; Shaktiman is supreme spirit/consciousness. As the self is a combination of the three features of spirit (sat-chit-ananda)—being, knowing, and loving—so too is Supreme Consciousness. Supreme Consciousness manifests a unique form for each of these three characteristics of spirit, known as Brahman, Paramatma, and Bhagavan. Most traditions recognize the first two of these three features, though they are known by different names. One feature of the Godhead (Supreme Consciousness) is predominantly being, one predominantly knowing, and one predominantly loving. In other words, the one Godhead manifests to our vision in the manner we wish to see it. Reality shows himself in three features in response to how we approach him. Consider when we look at an object in this world. We can’t see any object fully. For example, when I look at the monitor on my desk, I see the screen, but I can’t see all the sides of the monitor from where I sit. If this is true for a small object in this world, how much more does it apply to our vision of the unlimited? When you’re very close to an object, you see it one way, and when you’re very far away, you see it differently. In other words, the same object appears differently according to our position in relation to it. In this example, we’re speaking about physical position; in regard to the Absolute, we’re speaking about conceptual position. Based on your concept of Reality, Reality reveals itself accordingly. This is another way of saying that because Reality comprises three features of spirit/consciousness, when we glimpse Reality our vision will be occupied by one of these three features that constitute the totality of Reality. We’re not shaping the Supreme but seeing him from a particular angle. Brahman corresponds with the being feature of Shaktiman. Paramatma corresponds with the knowing feature of Shaktiman. Bhagavan corresponds with the loving feature of Shaktiman. We’ve discussed how loving is the most whole state of the self because it includes being and knowing. The same applies to the Godhead: its loving feature is the fullest expression of the Absolute. Bhagavan is the source of both Brahman and Paramatma and all shaktis. Here’s another way of identifying these three features of the one Reality: Brahman is the featureless Absolute devoid of shaktis. Paramatma is the Absolute with shaktis. He governs and enforces cosmic laws, thus engendering awe and reverence toward him. Bhagavan is the Absolute with shaktis who is a playful, carefree youth arousing our feelings of sweet affection. One of the many names of Bhagavan is Kṛṣṇa. Krish means “existence,” and na means “bliss.” Kṛṣṇa is an ocean of good qualities and the very form of blissful existence. In contrast to our bodies, which are made of material elements, Kṛṣṇa’s body is made of condensed bliss and love, or ananda; he is the very form of bliss. Thus in his association we experience the highest happiness. Śrī Kṛṣṇa’s humanlike (but not human) manifestation is the Absolute’s original form—his form when he’s fully himself. The name Bhagavan literally refers to the “possessor of all shaktis in full.” He is the Absolute endowed with complete omniscience *(jnana-shakti)*, omnipotence *(kriya-shakti/aisvarya)*, influence *(iccha-shakti/virya)*, prosperity of all kinds (sri/lakshmi), fame *(yashas)*, and the detachment from all material products and phenomena *(vairagya)*. And here we’ve come back around to shaktis. In *yoga* philosophy, understanding the relationships between the shaktis and Shaktiman is called sambandha. Accurate sambandha enables us to proceed to abhidheya, or a practice, which leads us to the prayojana, or goal. *Prāṇada Devī Dāsī’s first book, Wise-Love, won several awards, including the prestigious Montaigne Medal. Bhakti Shakti is her second book, with two more in production. She lives in Alachua, Florida, with her husband, BTG editor Nāgarāja Dāsa.* Madana Mohana: Mesmerizer of Mesmerizers *The beloved Kṛṣṇa Deity of Śrīla Sanātana Gosvāmī appeared in Vrindavan to attract hearts to Him and away from the allure of matter.* By Satyarāja Dāsa Though being worshiped in an iconic temple on a hill in Vrindavan, the Deity of Śrīla Sanātana Gosvāmī decide to go elsewhere. I was excited about this particular trip to India, though I had visited many times before. My wealthy and kindhearted nephew was financing our journey to various sacred regions of the subcontinent—with the proviso that I fully explain the holy places and their local Deities of Kṛṣṇa to him. He would engage a driver and a translator in taking us to Vrindavan, Māyāpur, and Jaipur, and together we would see all the important Deities associated with the Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇava sampradāya. That was our goal. In the sixteenth century, Śrī Caitanya’s immediate followers the Six Gosvāmīs of Vrindavan established the earliest and most important Deities in the Gauḍīya tradition: Śrī Madana Mohana, Śrī Govindajī, and Śrī Gopīnātha, and Their temples would naturally be our first stops. Briefly, these Deities represent sambandha (relationship), abhidheya (the path), and prayojana (the goal), respectively. The *Caitanya-caritāmṛta* (*Ādi* 1.19) says, “These three Deities of Vṛndāvana have absorbed the heart and soul of the Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇavas.” They are the most special of all manifestations of Kṛṣṇa, and merely seeing Them provides all-auspiciousness. These Deities were long ago moved from Vrindavan (Braja) to the desert hills of Rajasthan. With the Mughal invasions in the seventeenth century, the loving devotees of Braja sought to protect their dear Lords by transferring Them to safer ground, lest They be desecrated by imperialist rulers. Thus the original Deities are today located some 125 miles from Vrindavan. As a practitioner for many years, I had frequently seen the Deities of Govindajī and Gopīnātha, both as They stand in Their original shrines in Vrindavan—which are now home to duplicate (pratibhū) Deities—and in Their original forms as They exist in Jaipur. But I had never seen the original Madana Mohana Deity. This is because the journey to Karauli, where He currently receives His worship, is quite a distance from the other two, in Jaipur, one of my normal stops when I travel to India. Jaipur is easy to get to from Vrindavan, my main pilgrimage spot when I visit that part of the world, while Karauli is much more difficult to reach. As Arun, our travel guide for the trip from Jaipur to Karauli, explained, “Although the distance from Vrindavan to Karauli is less than Vrindavan to Jaipur, the topography is different. Jaipur has long been a famous city, well known since its inception in the eighteenth century, and it is a trader town as well. Because of this, the connectivity for travelers from various cities, including Vrindavan, was always very good. Jaipur also lies on comparatively flat land with no major hills to cross when coming from Vrindavan. The route from Vrindavan to Karauli is just not a simple affair, and the terrain is a bit more difficult.” This time, however, equipped with a good car (an Audi Q7), a driver, a translator, and a travel guide (Arun), and nothing but time, I decided to take the extra three-and-a-half-hour drive from Jaipur to the somewhat sequestered regal dwelling of Śrī Śrī Rādhā–Madana-Mohana. *Deity Discovered* The name Madana Mohana is intriguing: Madana derives from the Sanskrit mad, i.e., to exhilarate, intoxicate. Mohana is similar, from muh, to be stupefied or perplexed. Sanskritists sometimes describe the name as an instrumental tatpuruṣa compound of the noun madana, “love, passion,” and the name mohana, “one who infatuates or enraptures,” so that the full name would essentially mean “one who enraptures through love” or “one who, through His beauty and love, is infatuating, bewildering, and enchanting.” In traditional circles, Madana has been identified with Cupid,1 an entity so stunningly beautiful that he enchants or mesmerizes absolutely everyone—except God, who is so overwhelmingly attractive that He can attract even Cupid. The implication of the name Madana Mohana, then, is that God attracts even that person who attracts all others. In other words, He is capable of mesmerizing the ultimate mesmerizer.2 Accordingly, the name Madana Mohana is commonly used as a direct reference to the Supreme Being, for only such an incomparable entity is “all-attractive” (a literal translation of the name Kṛṣṇa). He is therefore sometimes called Kāmadeva as well, i.e., “the Lord who instigates unending spiritual desire [kāma].” By inspiring desire of this magnitude through His all-attractive visage and nature, He makes all living beings run after Him, seeking a relationship and loving exchanges. In this way Madana Mohana is the sambandha Deity, who reestablishes our relationship with God, for we cannot resist this relationship having once been exposed to Him. This Deity was rediscovered by Caitanya Mahāprabhu’s intimate associate Śrī Advaita Ācārya while on pilgrimage to Vrindavan from Bengal. Before returning to his home in Shantipur, he awarded the Deity to a brāhmaṇa disciple named Damodar Purushottama Chaube, who lived in the Mathura area. The Deity was later entrusted to Sanātana Gosvāmī, eldest of the Six Gosvāmīs of Vrindavan. Once, when Śrī Sanātana was begging house to house in Mathura, he came upon the home of Damodar Chaube, who invited him inside. Retrieving prasāda from the Deity plate, before Sanātana’s eyes Chaube began to scold the Deity just like his own child: “Why are You not finishing the food I am giving You?” This is the mood of vātsalya, parental love for the Lord. That night, Madana Mohana appeared to Śrī Sanātana and said, “Many years ago I was installed by Vajra, the great-grandson of Kṛṣṇa. After many centuries, I was given to the care of Chaube. I will inspire him to give Me, in this Deity form, to you.” This happened in short order, and Sanātana brought the Deity from Mathura to Vrindavan, where he built a small hut for Him atop a hill called Dwadashaditya Tila, near the Yamuna River. Because Sanātana was a renunciant, he was only able to make flatbread (roti) to offer Madana Mohana as His meals. After eating this same meal for some time, the Deity told Sanātana, “Dear one, I am bored merely eating dry roti again and again. Please at least find some salt to give it some taste.” Sanātana was not disinclined to this, of course, but he was concerned about what the residents of Braja might say. “Why is a holy man asking us for a luxury like salt? Is he not renounced?” Understanding this consideration, Madana Mohana decided to use His mystical potency to remedy the situation. The very next day, the residents of Braja found a merchant’s boat stuck in a shallow part of the Yamuna River. By Kṛṣṇa’s arrangement, it was filled with enough salt to satisfy Madana Mohana’s taste many times over. There is more to the boat story. The construction of the famous Madana Mohana temple in Vrindavan, visually emblematic of the sacred town itself, can be traced to that same merchant who was forcibly docked in the river Yamuna. His name was Krishnadas Kapoor (or, in some versions, Ramdas Kapoor), and he was fabulously wealthy. The story might be rendered as follows. One day, while on his way to deliver his goods by boat to a market in Agra, Kapoor’s boat was grounded on a sandbar just opposite Sanātana’s hut on the Yamuna River. Kapoor began to pray for help, and, seeing his despair, Sanātana invited him to his hilltop temple to worship Madana Mohana. While he prayed to the Deity, the boat miraculously floated clear of obstruction. Kapoor was grateful and financed the building of Madana Mohana’s temple, an imposing edifice built in the 1580s that is one of Vrindavan’s very first temples. According to historical records, the earliest days of the temple saw no Deity of Rādhikā at Madana Mohana’s side. But soon after construction, the pious Purushottama Jana, son of King Prataparudra of Orissa, sent two female Deities from Puri to be placed alongside Madana Mohana. The two Deities vary in size, and the temple authorities deemed the bigger one to be Lalitā, Śrī Rādhā’s intimate associate and the foremost of Her attendant gopīs, while the smaller one is Rādhikā Herself. *The Move to Karauli* If the magnificent Madana Mohana temple in Vrindavan is representative of Braja as a whole, its counterpart in Karauli might be deemed the very heartbeat of Rajasthan. The Deity’s journey outside of Braja involves a bit of history. While earlier Moghul emperors such as Akbar, Jahangir, and Shah Jahan showed no animosity toward the Vaiṣṇavas in their domain—indeed, they often gave them land endowments as well as financial support—Aurangzeb’s rule was different, setting forth prohibitions, at best, and causing destruction, at worst. And so it was that in 1669 Aurangzeb infamously issued mandates to demolish all Hindu temples, and while there is today some question whether he was the sole tyrant involved in these mandates, many of them clearly occurred under his reign. The main Vaiṣṇava temples in Vrindavan and Mathura to suffer during this period were Rādhā–Madana-Mohana, Rādhā-Govinda, Rādhā-Gopīnātha, Rādhā-Ballabha, Śrī Govardhanātha, and Śrī Keśava Deva (this last one in Mathura, at the Lord’s birthplace). All the Deities were moved to safer areas. Most were relocated, step by step, to Radha-kunda, Kamyavan, and eventually Jaipur. This occurred in the eighteenth century. After They left one destination for another, substitute Deities were placed in the temporary way stations so that worshipers could continue venerating the Deities without gaps or unnecessary inconvenience. The arrival of the Vrindavan Deities in Jaipur is documented by royal court records of the period, stating that the Deities first passed through the kingdom of Raja Badan Singh, the emperor of Kumher, in the Bharatpur district of Rajasthan, and finally arrived in Jaipur on Monday, the full-moon day of the month of Kārttika (October/November) in 1742 CE. The king of Jaipur, we are told, viewed the Deities in the courtyard of the area’s famous temple of Śrī Śrī Sītā-Rāma, and then They were brought to Badal Mahal, where They were ostensibly to be established for all time. But this was not to be. Jaipur tradition asserts that Kṛṣṇa Himself appeared to Raja Gopal Singh of Karauli, asking him to bring the Deity of Madana Mohana, temporarily stationed in Jaipur, to his own kingdom. The king wanted Madana Mohana to reign over his court. Besides, Gopāl Singh’s new bride, the daughter of Jaipur’s king, loved the Deity with heart and soul, a love that matched his own. Accordingly, Gopal Singh traveled to Jaipur and asked the Raja (the son of Jai Singh II), Madho Singh I, to allow him to move Madana Mohana to Karauli, claiming that Kṛṣṇa Himself had requested it. Madho Singh responded, “Your words are fine, but how can we know that Madana Mohana truly wants to go there? We will give you a test. If you pass the test, then Madana Mohanajī will travel with you to Karauli.”3 Here was the test: Madho Singh covered Gopal Singh’s eyes with a strip of cloth, took him to the temple, and released him, saying, “Go and hold the Deity. We have several forms of Kṛṣṇa in this room, and if you touch Madana Mohana first, then we will ordain His going with you.” By this time, a great crowd had gathered in the assembly hall. Everyone was curious to see if the king would be able to recognize Madana Mohana with his eyes covered. The whole family of Jaipur’s king was in attendance. In the end, Gopal Singh correctly approached Madana Mohana’s alcove and stopped right before the Deity. He felt and grasped the feet of his beloved Kṛṣṇa. All the assembled princes and townspeople praised his love for the Lord. “Jaya Madana Mohana!” The king of Jaipur thus gave his permission for the Deity to be taken. [Madana Mohana was moved to Karauli, and He has been there ever since.] One further esoteric reason for His relocation that may serve as a backdrop for the above narrative: Tradition holds that the Deities Govinda and Gopīnātha came to appreciate the land of Jaipur, where Their worship was enhanced even beyond that of Vrindavan, but Madana Mohana, it is said, was engrossed in memory of Braja-mandala. Those acquainted with sacred geography will note that Karauli is in fact part of the Braja Charausi Kosha, an annual pilgrimage around the whole of Braja. The pūjārīs at the Madana Mohana temple hold that King Gopal Singh had a dream in which Madana Mohana expressed His desire to return to Braja. But upon awakening, the king realized that Karauli is technically part of greater Braja-mandala, even though it exists within the borders of Rajasthan. Thus he felt confident and comfortable in worshiping his Lord in that part of India. *My Visit (Reprise)* With this much as historical background, shoot forward to February 2019. We started out at 8:30 a.m. from our hotel, Rambagh Palace, the best in Jaipur. My long-time desire to visit Karauli would finally be fulfilled on this day. But it was almost not to be. Arun, our guide and a resident of Jaipur, was normally diligent about reading the newspaper, just to make certain that the terrain was safe for travel. That was part of his job description, and my nephew made sure that he was diligent. On this particular day, however, he somehow missed his opportunity to get the daily paper. And that was lucky for me, for if he had, we might not have visited Karauli at all. Might Kṛṣṇa have had a hand in this? Arun remembers the events of that day as follows: [inset] That morning, my kids’ school van did not come and I had to drop them to school at the eleventh hour. So it was. In all that rush, I just had no time to read the day’s newspaper and was thus oblivious of the latest news on the ongoing protests on the road to Karauli. Simple villagers—Gurjar, farmers—were vehemently putting forward special demands for their community, especially in terms of government jobs. The talks between the state government and the Gurjar protesters had failed the previous day, and it was speculated that they might bring their frustration to the streets, blocking the highway and train routes as they had done a couple of years previously. It can get violent. And that is what happened. They had taken to the streets and were blocking the highway in the districts of Dausa, Sawai Madhopur, and also the Jaipur-Delhi Highway. But not reading the newspaper that day was a blessing in disguise, because we went forward with our excursion to Karauli—it was as if Madana Mohanajī personally wanted us to come. Surprisingly, there was no trouble on the highway either, at least the parts that we traveled, but the train routes were in fact blocked and violence had indeed erupted, as we learned the next day from the newspapers. That said, we were blessed to have a peaceful visit. [end inset] Had we known of the potential trouble on the road, we would have surely canceled the trip. But as Arun eloquently says, “Madana Mohanajī would not have it,” and we proceeded to see Sanātana Gosvāmī’s Deity in all His glory. The distance between Rambagh Palace and Karauli city is some 155 km via a route that is at least partially on a state highway. It took us not quite four hours. After we left our car at Karauli City Parking Centre, we walked for about twenty minutes to City Palace, part of the Karauli complex, and immediately entered the temple. There He was: Sanātana Gosvāmī’s Deity, about whom I had heard and read so much over the years. Indeed, in one of my favorite Gosvāmī books, the Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta, Sanātana’s Deity is among the main characters, though under the name Madana Gopāla.4 It was a long time coming, and so I just prayed and meditated, for nearly an hour, gazing at the same form of Kṛṣṇa that Śrī Sanātana Gosvāmī had gazed at, held in his hands, loved. Advaita Ācārya’s Deity. Chaube’s Deity. The Deity who had graced Vrindavan’s first temple. The very thought of it somehow enhanced my ability to appreciate Kṛṣṇa consciousness and increased my desire to achieve it. I felt as if I had been shot by Cupid’s arrow. The transcendental personalities who are eternally part of Kṛṣṇa’s divine pastimes, we are told, are never shot by Cupid’s arrows, and even those souls who live in the material world—who know those arrows all too well—can move beyond Cupid by listening for the call of Kṛṣṇa’s flute, which in this material world is represented by the Hare Kṛṣṇa *mahā-mantra*: Hare Kṛṣṇa, Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare / Hare Rāma, Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare. *Notes* 1. It seems clear that the entity known as Cupid (from the Latin cupido, meaning “desire”) has more concrete historical antecedents in the Vedic literature, especially since Kāmadeva, the god usually translated as Cupid, is described as carrying a bow and arrows with tips that invoke desire, just as Cupid is. Sometimes Kāmadeva is identified with Kṛṣṇa (as in *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam* 5.18.15 and in the *Kāma Gāyatrī mantra*, for instance), who in this form shoots five kinds of desire-instilling flower arrows, too, and these represent taste, touch, sight, sound, and smell. *(Caitanya-caritāmṛta*, *Madhya* 21.107) The arrows also represent the five kinds of relationships (rasas) with Him: neutrality (śānta), servitude (dāsya), friendship (sakhya), parental affection (vātsalya), and amorous love (mādhurya). When one is shot with the appropriate arrow, the respective interaction is thereby nurtured. Another personality sometimes identified as Cupid is Kṛṣṇa’s alluring son Pradyumna. (See Prabhupāda’s book Kṛṣṇa, Chapter 55.) The overall idea here is that Kṛṣṇa is so attractive that He easily surpasses even the most beautiful entity, often known as Cupid. 2. There is one person whose alluring beauty surpasses even Kṛṣṇa—and that is Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī. Although Kṛṣṇa is so beautiful that He enchants even Cupid, He is completely mesmerized by Rādhikā, whose name, therefore, is Madana-mohana-mohinī. Kṛṣṇa is the mesmerier of Cupid, and Rādhārāṇī is the mesmerizer of the mesmerizer. Prabhupāda states it directly: “Although Kṛṣṇa is so beautiful that He can attract millions of Cupids and is therefore called Madana-mohana, ‘the attractor of Cupid,’ Rādhārāṇī [the female Godhead] can attract even Kṛṣṇa. She is therefore called Madana-mohana-mohinī—‘the attractor of the attractor of Cupid.’” 3. Much of this historical information is taken from Asimkumar Ray, Vṛndāban theke Jaipur (“From Vrindāvan to Jaipur”), Bengali edition, ed., Kiran Candra Rāi (Calcutta: Jijnasa, 1985). 4. He appears in seven verses, all in relation to Gopa-kumāra’s worshipful Deity, Madana Gopāla. *Satyarāja 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.* Kṛṣṇa’s Sometimes Disguised Mercy *To understand Kṛṣṇa we need His mercy, which may come to us in ways that defy our expectations and stereotypes.* by Viśākhā Devī Dāsī To know and love God we need His blessings, which we may not always recognize. The great sixteenth-century devotional scholar Śrīla Jīva Goswami wrote that unless we accept the inconceivable potency of God, we cannot understand Him. Or, put in positive terms, if we’re trying to come to an understanding of God that allows us to accept Him, we must accept that He has inconceivable potency. One of the consequences of God’s having inconceivable potency is that He, Kṛṣṇa, can do what He likes. He is beyond the range of our senses. He is also beyond the compass of our mind and intellect. “God couldn’t do that” is a statement we’re unqualified to make, as we are limited while He is unlimited. This is not to say that Kṛṣṇa is whimsical, unpredictable, or inconsistent. On the contrary, through the scriptures—books that describe Him and His activities—we can learn of His nature and activities. Yet even such knowledge is insufficient. To actually understand God, we must have—even more than scriptural knowledge—His mercy. Once Caitanya Mahāprabhu’s associate Gopīnātha Ācārya told a scholar and his students, “One cannot attain real knowledge of the Supreme Personality of Godhead by logical hypothesis and argument. One can understand the Supreme Personality of Godhead only by His mercy, not by guesswork or hypothesis. If one receives but a tiny bit of the Lord’s favor by dint of devotional service, he can understand the nature of the Supreme Personality of Godhead.” *(Caitanya-caritāmṛta*, *Madhya* 6.81–83) Gopīnātha Ācārya then quoted a verse from *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam* (10.14.29): > athāpi te deva padāmbuja-dvaya- > prasāda-leśānugṛhīta eva hi > jānāti tattvaṁ bhagavan-mahimno > na cānya eko ’pi ciraṁ vicinvan “My Lord, if one is favored by even a slight trace of the mercy of Your lotus feet, he can understand the greatness of Your personality. But those who speculate in order to understand the Supreme Personality of Godhead are unable to know You, even though they continue to study the Vedas for many years.” The speaker of this verse, Lord Brahmā, the secondary creator of the universe, said similarly in his Brahma-saṁhitā (5.33), vedeṣu durlabham adurlabham ātma-bhaktau: Although Kṛṣṇa says that by all the Vedas He is to be known, it is very difficult to understand Him simply through one’s studies. Why? Because for Him to be known, He must allow it. That is why it’s easy for His devotees to understand Him: pleased by their service, Kṛṣṇa reveals Himself to them. By His nature, Kṛṣṇa is highly reciprocal. He gives Himself to those who give themselves to Him. The Padma Purāṇa confirms: > ataḥ śrī-kṛṣṇa-nāmādi > na bhaved grahyam indriyaiḥ > sevonmukhe hi jihvādau > svayam eva sphuraty adaḥ “No one can understand the transcendental nature of the name, form, qualities, and pastimes of Śrī Kṛṣṇa through his materially contaminated senses. Only when one becomes spiritually saturated by transcendental service to the Lord are the transcendental name, form, qualities, and pastimes of the Lord revealed to him.” (Quoted in *Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu* 1.2.234) What does such mercy look like? Generally “mercy” is understood to be compassion, kindness, and forgiveness. But from the above we can understand that in the context of serving Kṛṣṇa, mercy means that we have been blessed with at least rudimentary knowledge of His greatness and as a result are inspired to serve Him with affection. How Kṛṣṇa’s mercy manifests practically may defy our expectations and stereotypes. For example, let’s look at the story of one of Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu’s dear associates, Junior Haridāsa. Once, a devotee named Bhagavān Ācārya was preparing to cook lunch for Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu and asked Junior Haridāsa to beg some rice from Mādhavī Devī, an elderly woman and exalted devotee of Śrī Caitanya. Junior Haridāsa did that and received excellent rice from Mādhavī Devī. Unfortunately, however, Mādhavī Devī was not alone in her home; she was with a young woman, perhaps her daughter or granddaughter, and Junior Haridāsa was attracted to this young woman.* Śrī Caitanya, as the omniscient Supreme Personality of Godhead, knew Junior Haridāsa’s mind; He knew that although Haridāsa was a celibate sannyāsī, he saw this young woman with a desire to enjoy her. Determined not to allow hypocrisy to enter His movement, Śrī Caitanya declared that Junior Haridāsa should no longer come into His presence. Caitanya Mahāprabhu had been a householder. In fact He married twice, and He had many householder followers. But He demanded that His renounced (i.e., sannyāsī) followers must actually be renounced. He would not tolerate hypocrisy. Although Junior Haridāsa fasted in remorse and although Śrī Caitanya’s other followers appealed to Him to forgive Haridāsa, He did not relent. After a year had passed with no change in the Lord’s mood, Junior Haridāsa entered deep within the waters of the Triveni at Prayagraj and drowned himself. Hearing this pastime, one may think Śrī Caitanya was not merciful but harsh, and on the external level, that’s so. More important than externals, however, is the internal or soul level, which in this case is completely different. “Immediately after committing suicide in this way, he [Junior Haridāsa] went in his spiritual body to Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu and received the mercy of the Lord. However, he still remained invisible. In a spiritual body resembling that of a Gandharva, Junior Haridāsa, although invisible, would sing at night for Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu to hear. No one but the Lord, however, knew of this.” (Caritāmṛta-caritāmṛta, Antya 2.148–149) Ordinarily, a person who commits suicide becomes a ghost in the next life, and some of *Śrī* Caitanya’s followers thought Junior Haridāsa had become a ghost. But that was not the case. Because Junior Haridāsa chanted the Hare Kṛṣṇa *mantra* throughout his life, served the Supreme Lord *Śrī* Caitanya Mahāprabhu, was dear to the Lord, and died in a holy place, he attained the mercy and shelter of *Śrī* Caitanya Mahāprabhu. What externally appears unmerciful in this episode is in fact sublimely merciful. *Śrī*la Kṛṣṇadāsa Kavirāja Gosvāmī writes in *Śrī* *Caitanya-caritāmṛta* *(Antya* 2.168): “This incident manifests the mercy of *Śrī* Caitanya Mahāprabhu, His teaching that a sannyāsī should remain in the renounced order, and the deep attachment to Him felt by His faithful devotees.” Śrīla Prabhupāda explains: “Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu is the teacher of the entire world, and therefore He enforced this exemplary punishment to establish that illicit sexual connections are never allowed by Vaiṣṇava philosophy. This was His purpose in chastising Junior Haridāsa. Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu is in fact the most magnanimous incarnation of the Supreme Personality of Godhead, but He strictly prohibited illicit sex.” (Antya 2.143, Purport) And: “By chastising Junior Haridāsa, Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu exhibited His mercy toward him, thus showing how elevated was Junior Haridāsa’s devotion for Him. Because of this transcendental relationship, the Lord corrected even a slight offense committed by His pure devotee.” (Antya 2.172, Purport) A devotee’s progress is determined by Kṛṣṇa’s mercy, and Kṛṣṇa is prepared to bestow His mercy on all His devotees. The way that mercy manifests may be hard to predict and externally may not always seem merciful. But whatever happens externally, sincere devotees continue to remember and serve Kṛṣṇa with affection. Aware of Kṛṣṇa’s supremacy and ever-present mercy, His devotees remain humble and grateful. Kṛṣṇa reciprocates with His devotees’ service by keeping them spiritually enthused and confident of their ultimate spiritual success. Their spiritual endeavors remain ever fresh and new. And whatever may be happening externally, Kṛṣṇa’s devotees are filled with appreciation for His kindness, and their hearts are tender with affection for Him. Their knowledge and appreciation of Kṛṣṇa, as well as their affection for Him, are evidence of His mercy on them. *Rāmeśvara Dāsa: . . . story of Choṭa [Junior] Haridāsa. I was very surprised to find that his talking with that woman was actually for the service of Lord Caitanya. It says that he went to an advanced devotee’s house to get some rice. Prabhupāda: No. It is not that. There was some young woman sitting there, and he glanced over her with lusty desire. Not that old woman. Rāmeśvara: That was her sister? Or daughter. Prabhupāda: No. Daughter, granddaughter maybe. She was a very old lady. (Conversation June 27, 1975, Los Angeles) *Viśākhā Devī Dāsī has been writing for BTG since 1973. The author of six books, she is the temple president at Bhaktivedanta Manor in the UK. She and her husband, Yadubara Dāsa, produce and direct films, most recently the biopic on the life of Śrīla Prabhupāda Hare Kṛṣṇa! The Mantra, the Movement, and the Swami Who Started It All. Visit her website at OurSpiritualJourney.com.* Coping with Lust *As Kṛṣṇa tells us in the Gītā, lust leads to anger—and things get worse from there.* by Vraja Vihārī Dāsa “Lust is the craving for salt of a man who is dying of thirst.”—Frederick Buechner, American poet, writer, and theologian On June 1, 2001, the crown prince of Nepal, Dipendra, stumbled into the royal dining hall in a drunken state. In a frenzy, he gunned down nine members of the noble family, including the king and queen and his siblings. He then shot himself in the head. In the wake of this horrific tragedy many theories floated. The most accepted version amongst the traumatized citizens points out the prince’s fallout with his parents. They refused to let him marry the woman he loved. Since the woman the prince desired wasn’t from the aristocracy, they disallowed the union, and in a fit of madness Dipendra shot them dead. This incident demonstrates the damaging power of unfulfilled desire. The Vedic scriptures term extreme hankering as lust, an intense craving for something or someone, often in the context of unbridled sexual desire. It’s an example of heightened longing, and in common parlance is distinguished from passion. Passion can encourage humans to achieve healthy goals; lust, on the other hand, is destructive. *Lust Leads to Anger* Lust is subtle and can be masked by one’s gracious dealings. And since most of us are not mind readers, it can be hidden behind the facade of civil niceties. Still, the conflagration of lust in a person whose heart is an infernal hell can easily be exposed by anger. Lust leads to rage in two ways. First, one who strongly covets an object and doesn’t acquire it gets frustrated and as a result wrathful. Second, one whose desire is fulfilled realizes soon that the result is not as satisfying as expected. Disillusioned, one can then succumb to an angry emotional outburst. *The Influence of the Three Modes* When lust overwhelms us we give up everything to satisfy it. Rāvaṇa gave up all his brothers, sons, relatives, and best friends in his vain attempt to get Sītā. His lust blinded him and forced him to lose all his near and dear ones. Lust is born of the mode of passion, rajas, and it leads to the mode of ignorance, tamas. When lust attacks vigilant sādhakas engaged in the practice of *bhakti-yoga*, they counter the rajas-to-tamas tendency by raising themselves from rajas to sattva, the mode of goodness. Just as a souring agent converts milk into curds and whey, an atmosphere of rajas gives birth to lust. Recognizing the influence of the external conditions and the internal surroundings, sādhakas are ever alert, and at slight provocation upgrade their consciousness to sattva and check its downslide to tamas. *The Mahābhārata’s and Bhagavad-gītā’s Wisdom on Lust* In the *Bhagavad-gītā* (2.62–63) Lord Kṛṣṇa offers an incisive and penetrating analysis of lust: “While contemplating the objects of the senses, a person develops attachment for them, and from such attachment lust develops, and from lust anger arises. From anger, complete delusion arises, and from delusion bewilderment of memory. When memory is bewildered, intelligence is lost, and when intelligence is lost one falls down again into the material pool.” This explains Dipendra’s inner trauma—lust and the lower modes dragged the hapless prince to the maniacal slaughter of his own family. In the Mahābhārata, Udyoga-parva, Vidura describes to Dhṛtarāñṭra the plight of a king chased by a tigress. The king runs in fear and falls into a well. But he gets stuck on the branch of a tree within the well, and a huge crocodile below, with its jaws wide open, stares at him, waiting for him to fall to his death. Meanwhile, a deadly snake hanging on the wall of the well slithers closer, while two rats slowly but surely eat away the branch. In desperation the king hopes to get out of the well, only to find the tigress outside waiting with her three cubs. Sure death stares at him from all sides. Then a swarm of bees sting him repeatedly, for his fall has disturbed a beehive. Once in a while, however, a drop of honey from the broken beehive falls on his outstretched tongue, and that is a source of great pleasure. He eagerly waits for the next drop to fall into his parched throat and prefers to forget the painful misery plaguing him and the inevitable disaster awaiting him. The story is narrated to graphically drive home the plight of a conditioned soul in this world. We are chased by the tigress of lust accompanied by her three cubs of anger, greed, and illusion. The well is compared to the dark, suffering material world, while the crocodile represents death. The serpent is time, and the two rats are the day and night eating away our life. As the bee-stings of various miseries harass us daily, a little sex pleasure keeps us going, the insignificant pleasure making us oblivious of our painful sufferings and our ever-approaching death. For the little honey of sex pleasure, one is willing to pay a huge price of uninterrupted miseries. A foolish person thinks it’s after all a good deal; the pleasure of sex is worth all the agony and suffering of the material world. This is called illusion, and therefore the material world is considered a very special prison where the inmates are securely imprisoned without the need for walls. The unseen chains holding us in this prison of the material world are our insatiable lusty desires. *The Purpose of Human Life* Human life is meant for inquiring about and seriously practicing spiritual life. Amongst all the species, human beings alone can use their intelligence to go back home, back to Godhead. They can understand that there is no real pleasure in the material world. If, however, as humans we don’t use our intelligence for this purpose, then our intelligence is said to be covered by lust. A well-known story in the oral tradition of India describes an incident where Vyāsadeva, while dictating instructions to a disciple, also a renowned sage, chanted the verse “Lust is so deadly that even the most learned men are agitated.” The disciple considered himself intelligent and wondered how his spiritual master could chant such a verse. He took liberty in editing it and rewrote it as “Lust is deadly, and only the most intelligent are unaffected.” While making these changes, the disciple thought he had saved his spiritual master from future embarrassment because the most intelligent people could not be bewildered by lust; it’s after all only the foolish who are victimized by this force. Meanwhile, Vyāsadeva, by his divine powers, understood his student’s faulty thinking. Soon after, one day when the disciple was alone in his hut, it rained heavily. Suddenly there was a desperate knock on the door, and he saw a beautiful young woman dressed scantily and drenched fully, seeking his shelter. He invited her in and provided her with the warmth of the hut. Seeing her gorgeous form, the disciple of Vyāsadeva was overwhelmed by desires and couldn’t take his eyes off her. He went closer and appealed to her to fulfill his carnal desires. She said that being a chaste woman, she couldn’t enjoy with him unless they were married. He insisted that they marry right there and then so that he could immediately enjoy her. She insisted that his residence wasn’t the proper place and they should be married only in a nearby temple. The sage urged they immediately leave for the temple, but the woman placed a condition. She would accompany him only if he crawled there with her seated on his back. Blinded by the desire to possess her, the sage agreed. He knelt low like a horse, and she sat on his back. Hurriedly, he worked his way through the water with the woman on his back, even as heavy rains lashed his body. He struggled and trudged on his knees, hurrying desperately. All of a sudden he heard the woman chant the same verse he had edited a few days before: “Lust is deadly, and only the most intelligent are unaffected.” Stunned, he looked up, and lo and behold the woman turned into Vyāsadeva. The spiritual master smiled and revealed that he had put on this disguise to teach him a lesson. He then asked his student if he had been right in editing the verse. Humbled and embarrassed, the disciple confessed that lust is indeed an overwhelming force, and even the most powerful can fall under its sway. The incident was a sobering reminder of this truth. *Coping with Lust* The story underscores the necessity to be careful in our social dealings and also to become serious in our spiritual practices. A **bhakti*-yoga* *sādhaka* is also aware that the external rituals of *bhakti* don’t guarantee one immunity from Cupid’s arrows. The Fifth Canto of *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam* compares life in this world to that of a man who enters a forest to get honey from the beehives, risking attacks from snakes, jackals, and other wild animals. Finally, he also gets stung by the bees. Similarly, in this forest of the material world, to experience sexual pleasure one undergoes repeated suffering and pain from various sources. Smaller animals like deer and rabbits get scorched in a forest fire. But the elephant escapes by diving into a lake. His large body helps him stay afloat, while the fire doesn’t enter the water. The scriptures liken the forest fire to the fire of lust. The elephantlike devotees avoid it by diving into the cooling river of the holy names of Kṛṣṇa. Although ravaging desires can incinerate anyone, devotees find succor in Kṛṣṇa conscious practices. *From Suffering to Shelter* Many people fear giving up lust because they worry about how one could become happy without sense gratification. Therefore we need to seek the association of advanced devotees who have given up lusty pursuits and are still happy in this world. Their happiness springs from rendering pure devotional service to Kṛṣṇa, also known as Hṛñīkeña, the master and controller of our senses. The ultimate solution is to call out to Kṛṣṇa helplessly. We have to beg Him for mercy and shelter because lust can be controlled only by the transcendental Cupid, Kṛṣṇa, the God of love. Our main protection is our humble, prayerful attitude towards Kṛṣṇa. The great devotee Kulaśekhara prays, > andhasya me hṛta-viveka-mahā-dhanasya > cauraiḥ prabho balibhir indriya-nāmadheyaiḥ > mohāndha-kūpa-kuhare vinipātitasya > deveśa dehi kṛpaṇasya karāvalambam “O Lord, the powerful thieves of my senses have blinded me by stealing my most precious possession, my discrimination, and they have thrown me deep into the pitch-dark well of delusion. Please, O Lord of lords, extend Your hand and save this wretched soul.” Kulaśekhara acknowledges that only by the Lord’s intervention can we be saved from this deadly enemy. The taste for sex pleasure is very strong; it is after all a perverted reflection of the highest spiritual pleasure, called the ādi *rasa*, “the original taste.” Only when we experience satisfaction in Kṛṣṇa consciousness can we give up the pursuit of our mundane inclinations towards sense gratification. For this we need the causeless mercy of Kṛṣṇa; only by His grace can we be released from the clutches of sex and enter into the *bhakti* *rasa*, the happiness of devotional service. *The Power of a Kṛṣṇa-centred Community* Nomadic gypsies called Bhaṭṭathāris lured *Śrī* Caitanya’s servant Kāla Kṛñṇadāsa to their cult with women and wealth as their bait. The episode, recounted in the *Śrī* *Caitanya-caritāmṛta*, happened about five hundred years ago when Lord Caitanya Mahāprabhu traveled in South India. What makes this incident astounding is that Kāla Kṛñṇadāsa was not only simple, cultured, and clean in his habits; he was also personally serving Lord Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu, who is none other than Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead. While describing the incident, Śrīla Prabhupāda writes a sobering purport (Madhya 10.65): “Unless one is very conscientious, the influence of māyā can drag one away, even though he be the personal assistant of Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu. And what to speak of others? . . . This is factual evidence showing that it is possible at any time to fall down from the Lord’s association. One need only misuse his little independence. Once fallen and separated from the Supreme Personality of Godhead’s association, one becomes a candidate for suffering in the material world.” Caitanya Mahāprabhu confronted the gang and saved Kāla Kṛñṇadāsa. However, on His return to Jagannath Puri, the Lord told His associates that He was rejecting His servant because of his wayward behavior. Kāla Kṛñṇadāsa sincerely repented, and the devotees fervently appealed to the Lord to pardon the young man for his misadventure. Yet the Lord was unmoved. Finally, four intimate associates of the Lord—Nityānanda, Jagadānanda, Mukunda, and Dāmodara—held a meeting and devised a plan to help assuage Kāla Kṛñṇadāsa’s aggrieved heart. They realized that a large number of devotees of Caitanya Mahāprabhu who resided in Nabadwip, Bengal, would have learned that after four years the Lord had finally returned from South India to Jagannath Puri. They would be anxious to know about the various incidents in the Lord’s journey and the lessons He had taught through His pastimes. The devotees in Puri reasoned that if Kāla Kṛñṇadāsa were to visit the devotees in Bengal, they’d get enlivened. They presented their plan to the Lord, who didn’t object to it. Kāla Kṛñṇadāsa was then entrusted with a special service. He carried lots of Jagannātha prasādam to the associates of Lord Caitanya Mahāprabhu in Bengal. When they heard from him about the intimate pastimes of the Lord, they were blissful. Everyone gathered at the house of Advaita Ācārya, the senior member of the devotee community in Nabadwip. And to honor the Lord’s return, they held a five-day festival of hearing and chanting the Lord’s names and pastimes. This incident reveals the great blessing a community provides to a struggling spiritual practitioner. Since Kāla Kṛñṇadāsa took shelter of genuine devotees, he was protected. Besides, he also found a tangible opportunity for service and made a meaningful contribution—he brought devotees together for a festival of the Lord’s glorification. Śrīla Prabhupāda comments in this section of *Śrī Caitanya-caritāmṛta*: “Even though a person is rejected by the Supreme Personality of Godhead, the devotees of the Lord do not reject him; therefore the Lord’s devotees are more merciful than the Lord Himself. . . . The Lord Himself may sometimes be very hard, but the devotees are always kind.” *(Madhya* 10.67, Purport) As we struggle in this age of quarrel and hypocrisy, Kali-yuga, we are tempted by many distractions that threaten to take us away from our loving relationship with Kṛṣṇa. Still, there is hope. If we stay connected to compassionate devotees, who are true well-wishers of all living entities, we can navigate through the troubles that lust, greed, anger, and other unhealthy habits hurl us into. Kāla Kṛñṇadāsa’s example drives home this point emphatically. *Vraja Vihārī Dāsa, a disciple of His Holiness Rādhānāth Swami, has served full time at ISKCON Chowpatty since 1999. He has an honors degree in economics and a master’s in international finance. He teaches Kṛṣṇa consciousness to youth and the congregation and has written four books. You can read his daily reflections at www.yogaformodernage.com.* A Pause for Prayer Śrī Devakī said: My dear Lord, there are different Vedas, some of which describe You as unperceivable through words and the mind. Yet You are the origin of the entire cosmic manifestation. You are Brahman, the greatest of everything, full of effulgence like the sun. You have no material cause, You are free from change and deviation, and You have no material desires. Thus the Vedas say that You are the substance. Therefore, my Lord, You are directly the origin of all Vedic statements, and by understanding You, one gradually understands everything. You are different from the light of Brahman and Paramātmā, yet You are not different from them. Everything emanates from You. Indeed, You are the cause of all causes, Lord Viṣṇu, the light of all transcendental knowledge. – *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam* 10.3.24 From the Editor *Past-life Memory* If we lived before this lifetime, why can’t we remember our previous life or lives? One motive for asking this question is doubt about the reality of the soul and reincarnation. Or someone who believes in reincarnation may want to know why God doesn’t allow us to remember our past life when presumably the information would aid our spiritual progress. There are often different ways to answer a “why” question, and that applies to this question as well. One answer here is a “mechanical” one: we simply have fallible memories, and the trauma of death and rebirth erases the memory of our previous life. The idea that we could forget everything about our past lives is reasonable, considering that throughout our present life we experience thoughts and events from moment to moment but forget most of them. Someone might even forget everything of the present life because of an extreme trauma. Another way to answer the “why” question has to do with motivation. Why would Kṛṣṇa deny me the ability to remember my past life when it would obviously help me advance in Kṛṣṇa consciousness in this life? But would it help? We might assume that it would, but some people do remember (or think they remember) their past life, but that doesn’t necessarily inspire them to dedicate themselves to spiritual life. We might assume that to grow spiritually from lifetime to lifetime we must know what’s holding us back so we can work on it now. But we can get that information in other ways—specifically, through the teachings of the Vedic scriptures and the great spiritual teachers representing Lord Kṛṣṇa. A self-help method that aims at cleaning up unbeneficial things within ourselves one by one may not be the best solution. By the method of Kṛṣṇa consciousness, we can cleanse our hearts wholesale. The aspiring devotee should be careful about asking a question that begins “Why didn’t Kṛṣṇa . . . ?” Śrīla Prabhupāda would sometimes cut off such an inquiry and quickly defend Kṛṣṇa, implying, “Don’t challenge Kṛṣṇa.” A basic principle of Kṛṣṇa consciousness is the conviction that everything Kṛṣṇa does is perfect. We may not always understand His ways, but we should never doubt that whatever He does springs from His infinite love for us. Like most undertakings, the practice of *bhakti-yoga*, or Kṛṣṇa consciousness, begins with initial faith. Kṛṣṇadāsa Kavirāja Gosvāmī writes that faith in this context means “unflinching trust in something sublime.” We must trust that *bhakti-yoga* will lead us to the goal of life, take care of all our obligations, and satisfy any desire assumed to be satisfied only by some other process. Kṛṣṇa knows what He’s doing. If He chooses to hide our past lives from us, that can only be for our benefit. Besides, how much information can we handle anyway? From the *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam* we learn that by chanting the Lord’s name, Ajāmila was freed from the sinful reactions of millions of lifetimes (janma koṭi). This implies that we’re still influenced by things we did millions of lifetimes ago. So how much can we expect to benefit from knowing the details of our most recent past life? Rather, we can trust that whatever Kṛṣṇa has chosen to reveal to us in this life is perfect for our spiritual progress. We just have to take advantage of it. Hare Kṛṣṇa. —*Nāgarāja Dāsa, Editor* *Bhakti* Wisdom *[Formerly “Vedic Thoughts”]* O people of the world! Please try to translate the *Gītā’s* message into action and channel your thoughts toward Lord Kṛṣṇa’s lotus feet. Serve Him with your mind and body. If you dovetail all your energy in the Lord’s service, then not only will you feel intense exhilaration in this lifetime, but you will be immersed in eternal bliss in the spiritual world, perpetually serving Him. His Divine Grace A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupāda Renunciation Through Wisdom, Chapter Two The Supreme Lord is situated in everyone’s heart, O Arjuna, and is directing the wanderings of all living entities, who are seated as on a machine, made of the material energy. O scion of Bharata, surrender unto Him utterly. By His grace you will attain transcendental peace and the supreme and eternal abode. Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa *Bhagavad-gītā* 18.61–62 O best among the brāhmaṇas [Nārada], in the previous ages, beginning with Satya, the constant kīrtana of harināma was the goal to be attained by austerities and other practices. In the age of Kali, however, such constant kīrtana is both the means and the goal. Lord Śiva Sātvata-tantra 5.48 Perfection in self-realization cannot be attained by any kind of *yogi* unless he engages in devotional service to the Supreme Personality of Godhead, for that is the only auspicious path. Lord Kapila *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam* 3.25.19 O Lord, is Your impersonal spiritual effulgence not always present everywhere? Even so, it has not been able to break even a single small leaf from the tree of repeated birth and death. On the other hand, the moment Your holy name is taken by the tongue it thoroughly shatters the tree of birth and death down to its roots. Of these two [the spiritual effulgence or the holy name], which should be served? Śrī Śrīdhara Svāmī Śrīla Rūpa Gosvāmī’s Padyavali 28 Any person who engages himself within this material world in performing activities that necessitate great struggle, and who, after obtaining a human form of life—which is a chance to attain liberation from miseries—undertakes the difficult tasks of fruitive activities, must be considered to be cheated and envious of his own self. Wives of the Demigods *Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam* 4.23.28 The Supreme Personality of Godhead is the source of genuine happiness. Nothing else can bring one actual happiness. Only the Supreme Personality of Godhead can bring one happiness. For this reason one should inquire about the Supreme Personality of Godhead. Chāndogya Upaniṣad 7.25.1 COVER: His Divine Grace A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupāda was an extraordinary, empowered spiritual teacher whose scripturally informed perspective rose above time-bound limitations. BTG56-05, 2022