Jagat

Bhava-rasa in RRSN 147 (continued)

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 11:57:00 +0000

Now HLV gives a short analysis of this verse, in particular looking at the meaning of the word tāratamya, listing a number of items that have been analyzed in the Radha-vallabhi doctrine in the comparative or graded approach.

With regard to Radha and Krishna, the mutual distinction of who is object and who is subject (rati-viṣayāśraya-bheda) and thus who is the attached (āsakta) and who is the object of attachment (āsajya). This latter is a favored terminology of HLV and used throughout his commentary. Though Radha and Krishna are mutually object and subject, in the end HLV stresses the superiority of seeing Krishna as the lover of Radha and Radha as the object of his love. At
In the sakhis, there is a gradation of independence and dependence depending on the distinctions between rasa and bhāva.
Where Vrindavan is concerned, in the matter of the Braj and the nikuñja, and so on, there is a gradation of externality and internal, i.e., degrees of confidentiality and intimacy of the pastimes.

So in Prabodhananda's verse, "may my mind seize these distinctions, and only then will it become a unique or supreme source of astonishment." The word anya here should be taken to mean "different from the customary understanding of rasa." Therefore those full of passion and feeling, who have a taste for poetry and literature (bhāvuka), whose eyes and hearts have been moistened by this flavor (rasa) alone will be the worshipers on this path of devotion, and not others. Completely forgeting the four kinds of dependent awareness – on public opinion, scriptural injunction, family requirements and saintly custom, they are established in the bhajana of the intimate (rahaḥ) understanding of Radha and Krishna as rasa and bhāva respectively. The conclusion (sva-mārga-siddhānta) is that this way of devotion is incomprehensible to ordinary people or devotees.

The word vraja-maṇi illuminates the complete relationship of Vrishabhanu and Nanda Maharaj, because the dasi is given by the father of the bride and so she naturally has rasa for her mistress and bhava for the husband of her mistress.

Moreover, it is said that love for gods, kings and so on (devādi-viṣaya-ratiḥ) is called bhāva. This means that where love has as its object a person who is distant or unobtainable, that is called bhāva. This is because the love is one-sided and not reciprocated. Rasa arises when love is mutual (ubhayor mithaḥ prītau raso bhavati).

Moreover, rasa is at first indifferent to the object that is being relished. Then, according to the difference of its containers, it takes on the specific characteristics of vatsalya and so on. In this instance, the sadhaka's mood is that of laughter and friendship, which means that she lovingly thinks of Radha as her swamini or as her friend, Radhe accepts her as an intimate friend and so there is a mutual relationship of friendship and service. As a by-product of that love, she also has love for Krishna. Nevertheless, the object of her love is always the rasa of service to Radha. She serves Krishna, the dearmost of her swamini out of a desire to please her, but her principal sense of belonging is invested in Radha. So the means to the end is service to her beloved; it is not the end in itself. This was previously discussed in connection with the verse:

yad govinda-kathā-sudhā-rasa-hrade ceto mayā jṛmbhitaṁ
yad vā tad-guṇa-kīrtanārcana-vibhūṣādyair dinaṁ prāpitam |
yad yat prītir akāri tat-priya-janeṣv ātyantikī tena me
gopendrātmaja-jīvana-praṇayinī śrī-rādhikā tuṣyatu ||

I pray that Sri Radha, who loves the son of Nanda more than life itself may be pleased with my mentality, which grew and expanded in the nectar lake of descriptions of Govinda, or the days that I passed engaged in singing his virtues and engaging in the other angas of devotion like puja, and all the feelings of deep affection and love that I felt for his devotees. (RRSN 115).

So, since this feeling is secondary, it is a bhāva, not rasa.

The position of a person who worships Radha, though in this way inexperienced in the ways of the society, etc., is not understood by ordinary people who have no experience of such a thing. Only some rare souls have an idea of the external behavior, so what can they understand of the inner emotions. Even the avataras act like conventional human beings are are hard to understand, so what of the ways of their inner mind.

evaṁ līlā-nara -vapur nṛ-lokam anuśīlayan |
reme go-gopa-gopīnāṁ ramayan rūpa-vāk-kṛtaiḥ ||

Thus the Lord, appearing like a human being to perform his pastimes, following the ways of men, enjoying himself and bringing pleasure to the cows, cowherds and milkmaid with his beauty, words and actions. (10.23.36)

Or the word sthiti "situation" can mean their conviction with relation to their sthāyi bhāva. This is also beyond the ability of common people to understand. In other words, if they had the chance to meet Krishna in private and received his mercy, then they would not be able to maintain their determination to maintain the sakhi-bhāva for Radha. Evidence for this is in the munis and Shrutis, etc., who became gopis. Therefore this unwavering certainty in sakhi-bhava is not understood by others.

This has been stated elsewhere in RRSN:

yadi snehād rādhe diśasi rati-lāmpaṭya-padavīṁ
gataṁ me sva-preṣṭhaṁ tad api mama niṣṭhāṁ śṛṇu yathā |
kaṭākṣair āloke smita-sahacarair jāta-pulakaṁ
samāśliṣyāmy uccair atha ca rasaye tvat-pada-rasam ||

O Radha, if out of affectionate you direct me to be with your beloved when he is acting up to his untrammeled playboy ways, then listen to me and let me tell me of my determination. I will look at him with smiling sidelong glances and I will tightly embrace him, causing his hairs to stand up on end. But despite this, I will be taking pleasure in serving your lotus feet. (RRSN 87)

Furthermore there is another similar verse,

nija-prāṇeśvaryā yad api dayanīyeyam iti māṁ
muhuś cumbaty āliṅgati surata-mādhvyā madayati |
vicitrāṁ sneha-rddhiṁ racayati tathāpy adbhuta-gates
tavaiva śrī-rādhe pada-rasa-vilāse mama manaḥ ||

Even though Krishna again and again kisses me, embraces me and maddens me with the nectar of amorous pleasures, and behaves in a wonderfully rich and affectionate manner, all because I am your object of mercy and you are the queen of his life, O Radhe my mind will always remain fixed in the taste of service to your feet alone. (RRSN 55)

And so it is said here that this is "in secret" (rahasye).

What is more, for them such a certainty of attitude is difficult to maintain in front of Krishna, who is the enchanter with beauty greater than that of a million Cupids because they do not have that power of service to Radha.

The word api here should be read in conjunction with na.

api sambhāvanā-praśna-śaṅkā-garhā-samuccaye |
tathā yukta-padārthe ca kāmācāra-kriyāsu ca ||

According to the Viśva-koṣa the word api is used in the sense of possibility, questioning, doubt, accusation, as a conjunction, appropriate object or in wanton activities. In this case, however, it should be taken to mean an appropriate object (yukta-padārtha). In other words, it is quite appropriate that such sentiments should be outside the purview of the common folk.

=============

The important point that should be taken from this is that unreciprocated love, or love that cannot be reciprocated, remains on the level of a bhāva, more specifically a sañcārī-bhāva and not a sthāyi as such. An understanding of this point seems relevant to the understanding of bhāvollāsā, also.

Bhava-rasa in RRSN 147

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 08:19:00 +0000

Harilal Vyasa has given a lengthy 157 verse introduction to his commentary in which he points out his principal intentions in his work. In it, he cites verse 146 (147 in the Gaudiya edition) as a case of rasa-bhāva-vivecanam, and the point he makes there is

rasopasarjanī-bhūto bhāvo mukhyo rasaḥ smṛtaḥ |
bhāvaḥ śyāme raso gaure yasya sādhāraṇo na saḥ |

[Since] bhāva is that which produces the rasa, rasa is therefore the more prominent [of the two]. One whose bhāva is in Shyam and rasa in Radha is not common. (103-104)

This is meant to be a quick summary of HLV's understanding of the verse and a highlighting of its importance. Now let's look at the verse itself in a little more detail:

na jānīte lokaṁ na ca nigama-jātaṁ kula-paraṁ-
parāṁ vā no jānāty ahaha na satāṁ cāpi caritam |
rasaṁ rādhāyām ābhajati kila bhāvaṁ vraja-maṇau
rahasy etad yasya sthitir api na sādhāraṇa-gatiḥ ||

One who does not know the ways of the world, nor the scriptures, nor the family traditions, nor even the behavior of the saintly, if [in his heart] he reveres (ābhajati) the rasa [as being] in Radha, and the bhāva in Krishna (Vraja-maṇi), then his unique and secret status is not one that is accessible to common folk.

There are several ways of translating this verse and I am trying to be as literal as possible, even accepting that different nuances are possible. I have noted here that Ananta Das has two different possible versions and the Harilal Vyas edition, which has an extensive Hindi commentary along with and independent of the Sanskrit, mentions yet another from a commentary by Kripalal Goswami, which is the same as one of Ananta Das's. The problem centers around the word vraja-maṇi "jewel of Vraja," which AD and KG take to mean Radha, while HLV says it means Krishna. Since both are in the locative, it might be held that they are in apposition, with Vraja-maṇi taken as an adjective modifying Radha.

The translation following Kripalal Goswami's commentary is as follows:

One who secretly pursues rasa and bhāva in the jewel of Braj, Radha, knows not the ways of the world, nor the scriptures, nor the family traditions, nor even the behavior of the saintly. Such a person's condition is not common.

Amir Chandra Goswami (ACG) examines the Kripalal interpretation but ultimately argues that even though the word maṇi is used numerous times to refer to Radha (26, 46, 50, 77, 91, 159,203), Vraja-maṇi only comes up once, in verse 97, where it clearly refers to Krishna (yā vārādhayati priyaṁ vraja-maṇiṁ). KLG thinks the verse is uniquely about Radha and that the word bhāva should be taken as an adjective (!) of rasa. There are other difficulties with HLV's interpretation, but I don't think they bear on this essential element, which is the central point of the verse, so let us look at it in more depth.

It seems rather clear to me that the author of the verse intends to make a comment on the relation of bhāva to rasa and their respective connection to Radha and Krishna. The word kila creates an effective break between the two, and so I believe that HLV has correctly assessed the author's intention. Although rasikas generally throw the word rahasya around with abandon, in this case I feel that the author is using it to point out a special insight of some importance to him. This is confirmed by the word [na] sādhāraṇa (not common), which has also been extracted in HLV's introduction. This word also has other implications, so we will look at it in more depth.

In his primary gloss, HLV first takes up the theme that one who pursues rasa and bhāva in Radha and Krishna, their destination (gati) is not that of others who abandon the regulations of dharma or even the other devotees who worship Bhagavan in some other form. This point has come up several times in RRSN, so there is no point to belabor it again here. HLV would prefer the reading rahasye yas tasya in the last line and I concur, though perhaps it does not change the meaning.

HLV first makes the point that the particular phrasing here suggests not just one who has attained a higher level of devotion, even prema, but simply is aware of this particular truth, i.e., that taste (rasa) and feeling (bhāva) should be in Radha and Krishna respectively, has attained a state (sthiti) that is extraordinary, meaning that it is beyond the comprehension of the ordinary person. So what can be said of those who have reached higher levels through sādhana, etc.?

Now HLV turns to a discussion of the meaning of the all important words rasa) and (bhāva. He begins by equating bhāva with bhakti, i.e. an awareness of the supreme worshipable nature of the object of devotion (sarvottama-māhātmya-jñāna-pūrvaka-pūrṇa-bhajanīyatā), citing kṛṣṇas tu bhagavān svayaṁ (SB 1.3.28) and the following verse from Prabodhananda Saraswati's Śataka:

dhanyo loke mumukṣur hari-bhajana-paro dhanya-dhanyas tato’sau
dhanyo yaḥ kṛṣṇa-pādāmbuja-rati-paramo rukmiṇīśa-priyo’taḥ |
yāśodeya-priyo’taḥ subala-suhṛd ato gopakāntā-priyo’taḥ
śrīmad-vṛndāvaneśvary-atirasa-vivaśārādhakaḥ sarva-mūrdhni ||

Glorious are those persons who desire to climb out of the well of material existence and attain liberation; even more glorious are those who have dedicated themselves to the service of the Lord. More elevated again are those who have become attached to Sri Krishna’s lotus feet. Those who love the husband of the Queen Rukmini are superior again to such devotees, while more praiseworthy still are those who are dear to the son of Yashoda. More glorious again are those who have made friends with Subala’s comrade. Superior to those in the mood of friendship are those who worship the Lord as the lover of the gopis. Yet standing at the head of all devotees in the creation are those who worship him whose thoughts have been washed away by the flood of sacred rapture emanating from the daughter of King Vrishabhanu, Radha, and worship her above everything else. (VM 2.34)

[This verse is interpreted in another way by Gaudiya acharyas like Kunja Bihari Dasji, who sees worship of Radha in the last line. If all the other forms and names were those of Krishna, HLV's interpretation should be seen as better, but that is debatable (gopakāntā). Anyway, this is discussed in the commentary to verse 138, and clearly the above translation reflects the sense in which the Radha-vallabhis understand it. The word atirasa here also fits in with the theme of his discussion here. ]

[As another aside, the following verse from Svapnesvara's commentary to Śāṇḍilya-bhakti-sūtra, introducing the third chapter:

bhajanīyottamatvena bhakter uttamatā yataḥ |
bhakta-tad-bhāvataś cātra bhajanīyo nirūpyate ||

Since the gradations of devotion are assessed by the relative superiority of the object of devotion, this chapter describes the object of devotion through an assessment of the devotees and their moods of devotion.

This principle is also applied, it would seem, in Muktā-phala and, of course, in the works of Rupa Goswami.]

These verses thus summarize the position of the scriptures that Krishna is the supreme object of worship (paripūrṇatama). The word rasa, however, is used for "taste" (āsvādane), a taste that is the fullest sweetness and leaves one with the impression that there is no superior taste to this, inasmuch as that Krishna himself, who is known as rasa-ghana, the embodiment of rasa himself, is given the joy of taste by her.

Krishna and Radha are therefore stated here to be, respectively, the supreme objects (viṣaya) of rasa and bhāva in the heart of the sādhaka. In fact, it can be said that the Divine Couple is both, as both are equal in sweetness and worshipability, but even so, some distinction is being made in this matter. Were this not the case, and rasa was in Krishna and bhava in Radha, then the sakhī-bhāva sādhaka would feel attraction to Krishna that took on an independent character and this would then become gopī-bhāva. [For this distinction, you will have to rummage through old blogs here.] Similarly, if one had devotion for Radha as the ultimate object of worship, then this mood would fall into the category of Śakti-vāda. Therefore, one worships Radha according to the manner of relishing the sweetness, while one's worship of Krishna is associated with a knowledge of his glory in being associated with her as her dearmost beloved.

The rasa of the sādhaka in relation to Radha is that of friendship, sakhya-rasa. As will be said here in verse 148:

na vedair brahmādyair na khalu hari-bhaktair na suhṛdā-
dibhir yad vai rādhā-madhupati-rahasyaṁ suviditam |
tayor dāsī bhütvā tad-upacita-kelī-rasam aye
durantā pratyāśā hari hari dṛśor gocarayitum ||

O Lord O Lord! I yearn to become the maidservant of the Divine Couple, Radha and Madhupati, and see with my own eyes their ever-expanding pastimes of delight, whose secrets are unknown to the Vedas, the gods, the devotees of Narayan, or even to Krishna's friends.

And again as was said in verse 139:

yātāyāta-śatena saṅgamitayor anyonya-vaktrollasac-
candrālokana-samprabhūta-bahulānaṅgāmbudhi-ksobhayoḥ |
antaḥ-kuñja-kuṭīra-talpa-gatayor divyādbhuta-krīḍayo
rādhā-mādhavayoḥ kadā nu śṛṇuyāṁ mañjīra-kāñcī-dhvanim ||

When will I hear the tinkling of anklets and bells as Sri Sri Radha-Krsna, finally meeting after a hundred comings and goings, and now splashed by waves of amorous desires, waves created by the splendid moon of gazing at each other's faces, enjoy wonderful transcendental pastimes on a bed in a forest cottage? (Internet)

In both the above verses, the erotic dalliances are those of the Divine Couple, but the rasa worship comes from the qualification to relish their ecstasy through directly witnessing it. (tad-ānanda-darśanāsvādādhikāritvena rasa-bhajanam)

This was also stated clearly in verse 138--

rādhā-keli-nikuñja-vīthiṣu caran rādhābhidhām uccaran
rādhāyā anurūpam eva paramaṁ dharmaṁ rasenācaran |
rādhāyāś caraṇāmbujaṁ paricaran nānopacārair mudā
karhi syāṁ śruti-śekharopari carann āścarya-caryāṁ caran ||

When will I walk on the pathways through the bowers where Radha plays, uttering Radha's names, following with sweetness and relish the supreme duty of devotion to Radha exclusively, joyfully serving Radha's lotus feet with all the various accoutrements? When, rising above even the teachings of the Veda and Vedanta, will I conduct myself in this most wondrous of ways?

In the above verse, the word rasena indicates that devotion (paramaṁ dharmaṁ to Radha is to be done with sweetness and relish, and not in consciousness of her glories and greatness.

Moreover, such an awareness of greatness is dependent on scriptures, while rasa is entirely based in the transports of one's own heart.

On the other hand, one can look at rasa and bhāva from the point of view of the rasa scriptures. In the Alankāra-kaustubha it is said citta-drava sthāyī bhāvaḥ premākhyaḥ prathamo rasaḥ , "The first rasa is called prema, which has the melted heart as its sthāyī bhāvaḥ."

[This is not an exact quote from AK, the first half is found in 5.11 in connection with prema-rasa, an innovation of Kavi Karnapura's that never caught on. Here HLV says that this is simply a synonym for sṛṅgāra. To get to the bottom of this would require a thorough analysis of Alaṅkāra-kaustubha. Of course, for me, it is interesting that HLV even knows of Kavi Karnapura. Even though the quote is apparently inaccurate, he quotes the verse 5.11, of which this is the vṛtti, in the commentary to verse 149.]

Also, [from Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu 1.3.2, 1.4.1]—

premṇaś ca prathamāvasthā bhāva ity abhidhīyate
bhāvaḥ sa eva sāndrātmā budhaiḥ premā nigadyate

The first stage of prema is called bhāva. When bhāva becomes very intense, that is called prema by the wise.

And Bharata Muni says [not found in Nāṭya-śāstra. I think this is Mammaṭa.]

bhāvā evābhisampannāḥ prayānti rasa-rūpatām |
ratir devādi-viṣayā bhāva ity abhidhīyate ||

When bhāvas become greatly enriched, they take on the form of rasa. Affection or love for God is called a bhāva.

[This is a huge topic in itself which is at the heart of whether bhakti is a rasa or not. I don't think that we could do justice to it here, especially as that is not directly the topic. Most later theorists make the distinction between the kind of devotion that is exhibited to distant and formless deities as compared to those in human form engaged in human pastimes. For instance, in Bhakti-rasāyana—

ratir devādi-viṣayā vyabhicārī tathorjitaḥ |
bhāvaḥ prokto raso neti yad uktaṁ rasa-kovidaiḥ ||
devāntareṣu jīvatvāt parānanda-prakāśanāt |
tad yojyaṁ paramānanda-rūpe na paramātmani ||

The argument made by the theoreticians that love for gods (gurus, sages, etc.) and such is to be considered a subordinate or transitory emotion and not capable of becoming a rasa is applicable to other gods who are jiva souls and not to the Supreme Soul, who is the very form of supreme bliss. (2.74-75)]

But prakṛtam anusarāmaḥ, let us return to HLV's argument. He says that in this verse bhāva does not mean that Krishna is being looked at as God, but only as the object of service. Were it otherwise, there would be a destructive effect on the rasa. [Aiśvarya interferes with the experieince of rasa; this is why feelings for the gods are considered bhāvas.] Moreover, as bhāvas are necessary in the development of rasa, so because Krishna is necessary as an accompaniment for rasa, the sakhī-bhāva upāsaka has bhāva for him (rasodbodhako bhāvaḥ. rasa-sahacaratvena kṛṣṇe bhāvam).

Here HLV refers back to verse 141, particularly the last line:

rādhā-nāma-sudhā-rasaṁ rasayituṁ jihvāstu me vihvalā
pādau tat-pada-kāṅkitāsu caratāṁ vṛndāṭavī-vīthiṣu |
tat-karmaiva karaḥ karotu hṛdayaṁ tasyāḥ padaṁ dhyāyatāṁ
tad-bhāvotsavataḥ paraṁ bhavatu me tat-prāṇa-nāthe ratiḥ ||

May my tongue become helpless
as it relishes the taste of the nectar of Radha’s name;
may my feet wander over the paths of Vrinda’s forest,
which are marked with her footprints;
may my hands be engaged in her work
and my heart in meditating on her feet --
O that I may become absorbed in her festive mood (tad-bhāvotsavataḥ)
and thus have love (rati) for the Lord of her life.

[Now we would really have to look at what is said there, because the word bhāva here is used in relation to Radha, and rati in relation to Krishna. Rati, of course, is a synonym for bhāva in the texts on rasa, including BRS, so there is no problem there. Moreover, the bhāva spoken of here is Radha's mood. The sakhi is praying for identification with Radha. Her love for Krishna is based in Radha's love for him.

In the commentary to verse 141, HLV discusses some of the same points as here and has also given a reference to this verse. He there says that the purpose of the last line is, again, to illustrate that Krishna is not being worshiped or adored separately from Radha, but only because of his relation to her. In both places, HLV quotes his own "terminological" (paribhāṣā) introduction, where he defined his terms and set the basic ground rules of his interpretation of RRSN, as given at the top of this article. (rasopasarjanī-bhūto bhāvo...): Bhāva is necessary for rasa, but rasa is preeminent.

HLV says the rasa is the erotic (śṛṅgāraḥ), and that the erotic mood exists mutually in the Divine Couple. The maidservants of Radha experience a kind of sakhya-rasa that is a combination of witnessing Radha and Krishna's śṛṅgāra, serving the Divine Couple, and experiencing ecstatic joy as a result. The experience of rasa comes from the symptom of complete loss of any other awareness other than of Radha (vigalita-vedyāntara, as found in the Sāhitya-darpaṇa definition, 3.2, vedyāntara-sparśa-śūnya). Moreover, the rasa that is based on a fundamental mood of service and friendship to Radha is the fullest manifestation of their minds' independence and possessiveness, whereas bhāva is dependent on rasa.

Bhajana that makes this hierarchical distinction between bhāva and rasa should be conducted in private because of its great confidentiality, and not in the open. Moreover, inexperienced and argumentative types will object to someone saying that rasa is incomplete in Krishna, or that bhava is dependent on rasa. So publicly you say that Radha and Krishna are to be worshiped equally, and you don't make hierarchical distinctions between bhāva and rasa. It is for this reason that this kind of bhajana and its performer are called "uncommon."

Prabodhananda Saraswati, however, has shown in the Vṛndāvana-mahimāmṛta that this inequality produces the supreme rasa (14.55)—

rādhā-kṛṣṇāv ihā bhagavato rūpa-sāraika-tattve
tad-dhāmasv adbhuta-raha idaṁ śrīla-vṛndāvanākhyam |
āstāṁ vārtā tv iha dhṛtavatī tāratamyaṁ mamānyā-
svādya-premotsava-rasa-camatkāriṇī syāt paraṁ dhīḥ ||

Radha and Krishna are two components of a single tattva that is the essence of the Lord's form. And amongst his abodes, the wondrous mystery is this land known as Vrindavan. So be it, but when my intelligence has grasped that there is a hierarchy [in these matters] then it becomes wondrously capable of relishing the taste of a festival of love that cannot be had by anyone else.

Well, there is still quite a bit left in this commentary, including an expanded explanation of this verse, but I am going to have to leave it here today. Radhe Shyam.

na bhāva-hīno'sti raso na bhāvo rasa-varjitaḥ |

paraspara-kṛtā siddhir anayo rasa-bhāvayoḥ ||

"There is no rasa without bhāva, and no bhāva without rasa. Each of them depends on the other for its manifestation." Quoted at SD 3.288.

Chips from the workshop

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 14:51:00 +0000

A bit like old days... Alone working at the computer, listening to the radio and throwing chips from the workshop at the internet... Nostalgia is a curious beast. I was going through my old blogs for the past five years. Some of the most creative moments came from the cavern of a troglodyte.

kālena pādaṁ labhate tathāyaṁ
tathaiva pādaṁ guru-yogataś ca |
utsāha-yogena ca pādam ṛcchec
cchāstre ṇa ca pādaṁ ca tato'bhiyāti ||

The disciple learns one-fourth from the guru, one-fourth by his own effort, one-fourth by discussion with his co-disciples, and one-fourth by the efflux of time. (Sanat-sujatiya 3.13, according to Shankara commentary)

The translation does not give the four items in the same sequence as the Sanskrit, following the commentary ascribed to Shankara. Swami Veda's translation, which is more faithful to the original:

The disciple attains a quarter in time, a quarter through association with the guru, a quarter through his own enthusiasm and diligence, and the final quarter from the sacred scriptural instruction.

Ganguli's translation: He attains the first step of (knowledge of Brahman which is) the object of Brahmacharya by aid of time; the second step, through the preceptor’s prelections; the third, by the power of understanding; and finally, the fourth, by discussion.

The student gains the first part of knowledge from association/contact (yoga) with the guru.

The second part comes by utsāha-yogena, enthusiasm or effort, that is, buddhi-viśeṣa-prādurbhāvena (Shankara), "through the awakening of a particular kind of intelligence."

The third quarter of knowledge comes just by the influence of time [sounds a bit like, "25% of success is just showing up!" or "marks for attendance!"]. Shankara says that "in the course of time, the student's intelligence matures" (kālena buddhi-paripākeṇa).

And the last part is achieved from śāstra, which is here glossed by Shankara as "through discussion with other disciples."

Shankara justifies his interpretation by juxtaposing another, unattributed verse that says pretty much just that:

ācāryāt pādam ādatte tataḥ pādaṁ śiṣyaḥ sva-medhayā |
kālena pādam ādatte pādaṁ sa-brahmacāribhiḥ ||

A disciple learns one quarter from the acharya, one quarter through his own intelligence, one quarter comes to him through the influence of time, and one quarter from his fellow students.

So it would appear that Shankara [I have my doubts about his authorship] is saying that only one quarter comes from the classroom (or in a more spiritual way of looking, through the grace of the preceptor), one-quarter from homework (svādhyāya) or the student's effort and active engagement with the material, one quarter from just sleeping on it or quiet reflectiion, and one-quarter from discussing it with friends and fellow classmates.

The following verse, however, says

jñānādayo dvādaśa yasya rūpam
anyāni cāṅgāni tathā balaṁ ca |
ācāryayoge phalatīti cāhur
brahmārtha-yogena ca brahmacaryam ||14||

(14) The twelve great vows beginning with knowledge of the Reality (See 2.19) which form his essence, the six kinds of sacrifice (See 2.25-27), the capacity to practise them—all these become fruitful only with the support of the acharya, it is said. The practice of brahmacarya culminates in the realization of identity with Brahman only by the service of the acharya.

And indeed, when we look at verse 13, it would seem to say (1) the direct presence of the teacher in the learning situation is primordial, but (2) one also needs to imbibe enthusiasm and inspiration from his leadership, (3) time also permits the acharya's grace to operate on the disciple, and (4) the acharya provides the ambience, the situation where fellow students or associates, godbrothers and sisters can be found in which the knowledge can be discussed.

So it is still guru-kripa hi kevalam.

2011 Grinds to a halt: Part II: Vrindavan

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 16:26:00 +0000

Boat on Yamuna near Keshi Ghat. Well-meaning volunteers diverted the Yamuna stream to come to the ghat, but polluted water draining into the river from town sewers still predominates.

If I had to say what the main event for me was in 2011, it was definitely the move to Vrindavan. Since the end of 2007, I have been spending most of my time at the Swami Rama Sadhaka Grama in Rishikesh, which was recently named the fourth best yoga ashram in India. Life was good there and, in terms of my own spiritual practices, I was given plenty of time to study, learn, teach and write. This year, I finished editing the revised and enlarged edition of Swami Veda Bharati's Yoga-sütras. I went back in September for a month to complete the project, and there are still bits and pieces left. I am also signed on with Swami Veda to work on a couple of other books. I like Swami Veda and I like his people; I also like the ashram. But Vrindavan has been calling for a long time. Vrindavan is my home.

About two years ago I got involved with the Braj Vrindavan Heritage Alliance and not long afterwards started Vrindavan Today. Actually, when I came to India in 2005, I realized that it was almost inevitable that I would become active -- just in the simple matter of doing something about the ubiquitous garbage eyesore.

I was just reading about Sister Nivedita (1867-1912) and Swami Vivekananda from a book called Changing Gods: Rethinking Conversion in India. She was an Irish convert to Hinduism, so the author Rudolf Heredia, an Indian Catholic priest, uses her personal story of conversion to draw attention to the problems of religious and national identity.

At one point Swami Vivekananda told Nivedita, "Let me tell you frankly that I am now convinced that you have a great future in the work for India. What was wanted was not a man but a woman; a real lioness, to work for the Indians, women especially. India cannot yet produce great women, she must borrow them from other nations." Despite having said this to Nivedita, Swami Vivekananda still had to advise her at another point to transcend her sense of Western cultural superiority, even going so far as to call it "sin." (See Heredia, 208-209)

That was an interesting contradiction, but I think that it was based on the insight that you cannot accomplish anything if you approach from the vantage point of self-superiority. It is hard for a Westerner, even one such as myself, to not fall prey to this kind of attitude. Things have changed considerably in the century since Nivedita died, but the problem of cultural and religious identity is still a very real one for someone such as I, who like her has adopted India through religious conversion and yet sees very real problems in this country, both from the standpoint of cultural background as well as religious idealism.

But I am not going to apologize for it. When I left India in 1985, it was specifically to decode and reexamine the Indian/Western cultural hybrid I had become. In the intervening 25 years, I can separate a little better what is my character, what is cultural conditioning, but more importantly what is right or wrong and what needs to be done.

In other words, I recognize with gratitude how I have been caught up in a current of God's making that I cannot deny, and yet to see from within how I must respond so that I personally and the world get the most out of it. And when I say "world" I mean "my worlds", namely India and whatever part of the West I can speak to.

I don't know what this latest, tiny chapter in the intersection of East and West, which were never supposed to meet, and in some ways still don't, means. Srila Prabhupada often gave the hackneyed metaphor of India as a lame man and the West as a blind one, who somehow were to come together in blissful symbiosis. But it looks like India has itself gone blind on top of its lameness and is in need of some direction, for it has chosen to surrender obsequiously to cultural, economic and aesthetic models that are increasingly obsolete.

Anyway, what it comes down to is this: Vrindavan is my sacred place. And I will be damned if my sacred place is not treated like one. If that is my cultural prejudice, so be it. India's elites seem hell-bent on following the West in every way possible, all the way to complete spiritual and material destruction it seems. The adoption of a modern outlook is not wrong in itself, but when it takes the form of a rapacious capitalism with its attendant short-termism and short-sightedness, then the effects on my Vrindavan are intolerable.

There are many forces, including political ones, that appear to be opposed to the sacred character of the town itself and would rather exploit it for its economic potential as a place of tourism, even turn it into a kind of living museum, than allow it to develop naturally as a place with a religious vocation and all that this entails.

The fact is that we have a rather exemplary "think globally, act locally" situation on our hands here. The destructive path of so-called progress that India has embarked on may be inevitable historically, but environmentally it is the worst of all possible choices. I just read that China is now producing 50% more greenhouse gases than the United States. Though still lagging far behind, India is solidly in third place. The main reason is the coal-fueled power plants, but surely the huge increase in automobile usage is an important factor. These developments will not just have ramifications on India's future, but on that of the entire globe. Yet, from scanning the daily newspapers the conclusion is that local concern over these issues approximates nil.

Crowds near Krishna Balaram temple on New Year's Day.

When you look at the environmental problems of Vrindavan, a microcosm in the midst of this frantic, mad rush to "progress" and become an advanced industrial power (though any illusions of grandeur India may have in being grouped with Russia, Brazil and China as a so-called "BRIC" nation should be looked at askance), it is almost enough to despair. There are many Western devotees whose faith in devotion has been completely shattered by the totally cavalier attitude that Indians have toward their surroundings. It is more than just neglect or poverty, it goes deep into the fabric of the culture itself.

I don't know what it is exactly. In the Power Point document you can access by clicking on the picture below, I suggest that caste and impersonalist philosophy are two major reasons. The former leads to a compartmentalization of actions, especially cleaning, that are considered demeaning and therefore are ignored. I have seen brahmins living in the most appalling filth while attending punctiliously to rules of personal ritual purity.

The compartmentalization of society into competing groups undermines the sense of community, with the result is that there is practically no respect for public spaces anywhere in India, what to speak of the common good. An egregious example is that thieves routinely steal parts from machinery that is meant to serve the public good, like electric transmission stations or pumps and generators in sewage treatment plants, etc. But public urination and defecation, wholesale littering and dumping, are some of its ever-present manifestations.

These are not amusing cultural eccentricities. These are deep-seated cultural flaws.

The illusionist (Mayavada) philosophy denies the reality of the world and thus makes care for the environment, aesthetics, the poor, etc., a waste of one's time. Though this may have some salutary effects for cultivating a stoical attitude to personal misery, but it also leads to indifference, and worse, in those without spiritual acument, it weakens the moral fibre.

There are few peoples in the world that are publicly so selfish, competitive or indifferent to others as Indians. Look at how they enter a train or bus, or how they drive on the roads. Vrindavan is a town crowded with pedestrians. But now that so many people have cars and motorcycles, or even tractors, it is not uncommon to see vehicles bearing down at full speed on a crowd of pilgrims from some village with klaxons blazing. Traffic jams are commonplace because no one is willing to cede to another driver, no doubt for fear of being eternally left behind by the hundreds of others who are competing for the same few centimeters of road advantage. Little wonder then that the Mathura Hindustan newspaper announced yesterday that more than 500 people had been killed in road accidents in the district in 2011. I personally suspect this figure is low.

Burgeoning population, poverty and illiteracy are no doubt big factors in the inability of India to improve its true standard of living. I honestly would not know where to begin if I did not think about what I want in my holy land. We want the Yamuna River to be clean. We want the historical and heritage temples to be well maintained and beautiful. We want the streets to be clean and well kept. We want the Yamuna view to be preserved. We would like a parikrama marg that can be walked in peace and in a meditative and devotional mood. We want a population that is respectful on even the most simple level of human interaction, respecting the public space, respecting other people's right to silence and so on. I realize I have already gone way over the realistic in this wish list, but believe me, I could add so much more to it.

So where to start? I start with the cleanliness. It seems that this is in itself the essence of it all and it attacks many of the root problems that are addressed in the above few paragraphs. This is why I have been batting around the idea for a Vrindavan Safaikrama for some time. Now it appears that the time has come to actually make a first attempt at doing it.

The purpose is to:

Make a massive statement by engaging as many different institutions in voluntarily cleaning Vrindavan, with the hope of actually making a dent in the widespread, normalized state of dirt.
Through the examples of spiritual, religious and political leaders to set a standard of ideal behavior.
Through the dissemination of propaganda materials and public programs with the goal of changing attitudes.
To petition the municipality to take responsibility for the problem and to institute a proper garbage collection and disposal system.

In order to bring this program to a reality, a tremendous amount of work will need to be done over the next two months. Currently, a few people have signed on, but basically we are still on the very ground floor. Anyone who wishes to help in whatever way they can are welcome to communicate with me here or at Vrindavan Today.

2011 Grinds to a halt: Part I: Prema Prayojana

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 05:07:00 +0000

One year is over, another begins. Happy New Year to all.

For me, it is again a time for some reflection. It has been an eventful year for me, but still not entirely satisfying, mainly because of my own limitations. What have I done this year? What have I accomplished? And where am I going and what do I hope to yet achieve? I am going to make a couple of blog posts musing on these matters, which will no doubt look like navel-gazing, but then what are blogs for?

Of course, the main, basic, fundamental point is prema. This is such a grand and cosmic goal that it sometimes gets lost in the day-to-day functioning of life, the immediate goals, but one should never forget it. And in fact, everything that I do, in one way or another, is connected to that overarching principle, prema is the prayojana. Even when it appears otherwise, that is the principle that I live by to the best of my understanding. And if one ever feels satisfied, then that merely means his hunger was not great enough.

And I am certainly not satisfied, on practically any level. And yet, being satisfied while increasingly suffering an unsatisfiable hunger and unquenchable thirst is perhaps the great paradox of bhakti. I just opened a book that quoted the Gita:

bāhya-sparśeṣv asaktātmā vindaty ātmani yat sukham
sa brahma-yoga-yuktātmā sukham akṣayyam aśnute

One who is not attached to the contact of the external sense objects but finds pleasure within is one who has been linked in yoga to Brahman; he experiences imperishable joy. (5.21)

That is Brahman; Krishna is a different matter.

I have passed into my 61st year and still I feel as though I have no legacy, that there are too many things left undone. Some may call this a kind of illusion, the exigencies of an overpowering superego or whatever. I am not going to argue all that. Dharma is dharma. You gotta do what you are impelled to do. What will repression accomplish?

So though what I am going to say in these posts is going to sound a lot like whining, oh well...

This Blog

This blog has been pretty inactive in terms of new articles over the past year. As a matter of fact, there has been a progressive decrease in the amount of new content since I first started in 2007. Compared to the other blogs I do, it is comparatively active, but there were only 36 new posts and 5 new pages.

Nevertheless, because some people appear to have linked to certain articles and because of posts related to controversial matters, there was an overall increase in the traffic. The average number of pages visited here is in the vicinity of 200 per day. But I will be honest and say that, to me, most of the good, important stuff is ignored. Feedback, which in the early days was frequent, is now next to nil. The number of people who "follow" is stuck at a mere seven...

The pages, in particular, were meant to begin giving an overview of the essence of the prema-prayojan philosophy in terms of sambandha, abhidheya and prayojana. Judging by the amount of response I get, nobody takes this aspect of my thinking very seriously yet. Clearly the content there and elsewhere on this blog will have to be published as a book so that people can see it as a comprehensive whole. Otherwise, how will they understand the momentous nature of this approach to our entire tradition and the tremendous transformative potential that it has?

But I guess that the obstacles are many. I am either not convincing or not charismatic, or simply too complicated, or not "out there" preaching enough... who knows? Maybe the fault is not with me, for as Ramananda Ray says,

nānopacāra-kṛta-pūjanam ārta-bandhoḥ
premṇaiva bhakta-hṛdayaṁ sukha-vidrutaṁ syāt |
yāvat kṣud asti jaṭhare jaraṭhā pipāsā
tāvat sukhāya bhavato nanu bhakṣya-peye ||

One may elaborately
worship the friend of the suffering
with all the richest paraphernalia,
but the devotee's heart will only melt with joy
when it is filled with love for him.

For is it not that for only as long
as the belly knows hunger and thirst
do the delicacies of food and drink
bring pleasure?
(Padyavali 13)

Well, let us not lament. Perhaps because I have allowed my energies to be scattered, as my dear one tells me, and have thus not seen the vital importance of making a mission to present the Vaishnava Sahajiya philosophy coherently, or Radha-Krishnaism, to restore the centrality of the human and human loving relationships in sadhana, without which bhakti cannot be meaningful or even a worthwhile endeavor at all. Without human loving relationships, there is no meaning to loving God; the door of faith closes and one inevitably starts looking to labha, puja and pratishtha, or to material pleasures. It is as simple as that.

The entire edifice of Gaudiya Vaishnava siddhanta, temples, literature, puja, culture, aesthetics... all come to nought.

śabda-brahmaṇi niṣṇāto na niṣṇāyāt pare yadi
śramas tasya śrama-phalo hy adhenum iva rakṣataḥ

One may learn all the shastras, but if he has not become fixed in the Absolute Truth [of prema], then the result of his efforts is just the effort itself, like maintaining a cow that does not give milk. (11.11.18)

But it is not simply that, in contrast to the orthodox error fomented by premature sannyasis, human loving relationships are an essential element on every level of sambandha, abhidheya and prayojana. It is that we see the havoc that the stifling of the desire for human intimacy wreaks on those who have come to the devotional life with great hopes for attaining the highest perfection of human life and love. This is what happens when spiritual life becomes identified almost exclusively with sexual abstinence or indifference.

The worst of it is manifest in young devotees marrying or carrying on with non-devotee partners, losing complete sight of the secrets of happiness that were confided to them as their birthright, but were locked away by the misunderstandings of their guardians; a sublime knowledge and life-practice locked behind a wall of literalism. But you also see it in the continuing crust of misogyny and misdirection that permeates the sannyas culture and the ramifications such a culture has on both the new society of devotees and the larger Indian society where its fossils are still moving and kicking.

And as to the mundane sexually obsessed West, with its pincer illusions of pornography and romantic love devoid of the sacred connection or sadhana, it has fallen into a blind hole of Mariana Trench proportions.

The sexual, my friends, is the root of everything. Religion that denies sexuality rather than engaging it is on a course to hypocrisy, irrelevance and destructiveness. The path of love is that of understanding the sacred nature of śṛṅgāra-rasa, in the image of the Divine Couple.

Well, when the time comes, I suppose, and my sense of urgency about these issues grows, I will take more and more to publicly speaking out on them. There is more to this than talk, you know, it requires guidance...

Anyway, my Other tells me this is the only important thing that I was put on earth for, and all the rest is a waste of my time and misdirection. My other activities, however important they may seem to me or anyone else, are Maya, stumbling blocks, and a lot of lollygagging. So expect 2012 to show the influence of her lobbying on me.

Me, recording some bhajans at SRSG.

Prema-pattanam of Rasikottamsa

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 13:12:00 +0000

A book that I have been interested in finding for a considerable amount of time is the Prema-pattanam of Rasikottamsa (Yadupati Bhatta). I did not know much about this book other than that it has been quoted once or twice here and there, especially in relation to Prabodhananda and Harivamsa and their rejection of many of the rules and regulations of vidhi bhakti.

I have, as I sometimes do in such cases, dropped everything [though I can ill afford to] to go through the book, typing furiously verses and tika for the Gaudiya Grantha Mandir. Will I manage to finish in this race against all external pressures, in this extreme act of renunciation for the sake of rasa? Probably not! But in the meantime, I am discovering a delicious bit of rasika literature, and it is incumbent on ME (!) to share it, after first tasting whatever few drops of this fruit of this all-too-little-known early 18th century Gaudiya text I can manage to swallow. For this is what the Grantha Mandir was meant for!

Edition and commentary

The copy I found in Shrivatsa Goswami's library was printed in 1972 with an excellent commentary attributed to "Adbhuta" (as stated in the colophon) called Prema-sarvasva. These are accompanied by a prose translation of both the commentary and the original verses, as well as a Brij Bhasha verse translation of the same by one Dharma Chand of the Sri Krishnashram in Vrindavan. This edition has been honored by brief blessings and forewords written by Akhandananda Saraswati and Hariharananda Saraswati (Swami Karpatriji Maharaj). Only 300 copies were made.

Whether or not Adbhuta is actually a different person from Rasikottamsa is something that may be drawn into question as there are indications in the commentary that it was written by the author himself. Dr. Swapna Sharma, in her Gadādhara Bhaṭṭa: Paramparā aura Sāhitya (Vrindavan: Braj Gaurav Prakashan, n.d.), in several places conflates remarks in the commentary with the main text of the work.

One verse quoted in the the commentary has also been attributed to Rasikottamsa by Ananta Dasji in his Rasa-darśana, even though Adbhuta clearly says that it was written by some "ancients" (yathā prācīnaiḥ). Nice verse:

prātaḥ paṅkaja-kuḍmalaya-dyuti-padaṁ tat-keśarollāsavān
artho'bhyantara-saurabha-pratinibhaṁ vyaṅgyaṁ camatkāri yat |
dvi-trair yad rasikaiś ciraṁ sahṛdayair bhṛṅgair ivāsvādyate
tat kāvyaṁ na punaḥ pramatta-kukaver yat kiñcid ujjalpitam ||

The ancients have written: A superior poet's verse is like a blossoming, fragrant lotus in the morning. Its words are like its petals , their meaning its whorl and its s, and suggested meaning, when astonishing, is comparable to the fragrance it emits from within. Two or three rasikas are like the bumblebees who relish the honey sweetness of the lotus poem. That alone is poetry and not the mere ejaculations of some intoxicated would-be poet. (Commentary to passage 12g describing the parks that surround the city of love, where the trees are said to be different literary products like poems and plays.)

Doubts about the authorship of the commentary are further buttressed by a similarity of mood and language. Further instances adding fuel to the suspicion will be given below. In some cases, it may be that the commentary and text have been confused. Whatever the case, the commentary is extremely helpful in exposing the author's intent in a sweet and poetic Sanskrit and it may be said that the two form a single whole.

Author and Date

According to some souces, Rasikottamsa was one of two sons born to Gadadhar Bhatta, the other being Vallabha Rasik, who is known primarily for his Brij Bhasha poems, some of which have been quoted in Dharma Chand's translation. There are a couple of problem with this story.

First, the date of composition seems to be much later than the time of Gadadhar Bhatta (a somewhat younger contemporary of Sri Jiva Goswami), since the author quotes Vishwanath Chakravarti's commentary to Dāna-keli-kaumudī. [And I am thankful for that bit of information because I was having my doubts about Vishwanath's authorship of this work.] According to Krishna Chaitanya Bhatta, an acharya of the Gadadhar Bhatta family, basing his opinion on a number of researchers, Rasikottamsa was a contemporary of Vishwanath.

Second, the reference to Rasika Vallabha as being "my" younger brother is found in the commentary, not the text itself. So unless the author and commentator are the same person, this tells us nothing about Rasikottamsa. Furthermore, if Rasika Vallabha were the son of Gadadhar Bhatta (1560-1630?), how could he be cited by his older brother in the commentary to a work that shows signs of being written much later on?

After summarizing the speculations of various historians of Hindi literature on the dates of the two brothers, Sharma estimates that they were born in the mid 17th century and lived into the first quarter of the 18th.

The commentator Adbhuta mentions in the commentary to verse 2 that Rasikottamsa wrote another work called Mukunda-kundāṣṭakam, of which I have no further information.

Other than this sparse information, unfortunately, nothing is known about this author other than that his name, rasikottaṁsa or "foremost of the rasikas," seems to have been a worthy one. The word uttaṁsa can mean either a crown or a flower decoration for the ears, so the name rasikottaṁsa would mean one who is the crowning glory of the rasikas, or one who decorates the ears of the rasikas [with his poetry], or "the rasika who decorates the ears [of Krishna]". How Yadupati Bhatta came to have this name may be explained in the commentary to his own verse in Prema-pattanam:

māṁ vīkṣya dayita-purato
rasikottaṁsas tavāgato'yam iti |
devi vaco bhavadīyaṁ
madīyam aniśaṁ manas tudati ||

Seeing me standing before her beloved Radha said to him, "Look, your 'Rasikottamsa' has arrived.' Remembering these words of yours, O Goddess, my mind is constantly being overwhelmed." (Verse 140/52)

Commentary: The author of this work, upon completing a verse with the words harir jayati [No verse in the book contains these words.], he offered it to his Lord and went to sleep. Then he suddenly had a dream in which he saw himself in the presence of the divine loving couple. Radha said to Krishna, "Here, the rasika who decorates your ears [with his poetry] has arrived." As soon as he heard these words, [Rasikottamsa] woke up and wrote down this verse.

... Radha spoke these words because she saw him coming as an intimate servant (ceṭaka). And showing great mercy upon him and seeing him as a source of pleasure to Krishna, she said to Krishna, "he is yours" and not "he is mine." With this in mind, [Rasikottamsa says] "O Goddess! O form of transcendent, divine auspiciousness ! My divine ruler [svāminī], Radhe! Hearing you call me Krishna's servant is bringing great pain to my mind, since you did not accept me as your own servant."

This clearly shows that even [what would ordinarily be called] great happiness is unhappiness [in the "city of love"]. It should also be noted that hearing the name Rasikottamsa in the dream is the reason that the author is known by that name.

The subject matter of the book

This book has 242 verses with 104 of them original to Rasikottamsa. There is also a prose section at the beginning that sets the scene for the portion that follows, which tells us that the "city of love" (none other than Braj) has 35 contradictory "laws" that have been put in place by the king Madhuramechaka's wife Rati. These reversals of natural law in that kingdom are explained with examples from various sources, including principally the Bhāgavatam, Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu, Govardhan's Ārya-saptaśatī, Jayadeva's Gīta-govinda, Padyāvalī, etc., but also a number of anonymous verses that I could not trace.

The basic premise is that there exists a glorious "city of love" or prema-pattanam, which is situated in the sky (gagane), where everything is topsy-turvy. Adbhuta gives several meanings for "in the sky", concluding it means "in the sky of the hearts of those who know rasa" and is thus an indication of its incomprehensibility, its inaccessibility to the unworthy and its great secrecy (gagane rasajñānāṁ hṛdayākāśe tatraiva sadā sthitaṁ, na tu tair bahiḥ prakaṭitam ity arthaḥ. etena tasya durūhatvād anadhikāritvād rahasyatvāc ca sugopyatvam uktam.) In other words, though elsewhere the city of love is identified with Braj-Vrindavan, it is not to be thought of as a physical place to be perceived externally, but internally.

The other name of this city is naika-śiro-mandiram, "the home of those who do not have one head."

The city's ruler is madhuramecaka ("sweet and black"), who has two wives, Mati ("reason") and Rati ("love"). Mati finds that Rati is the king's favorite and is moreover disrespected by her co-wife, she decides to leave her husband's city and go home to get some peace of mind. But her father, Agama, is poverty stricken and so she is forced to depend on some brahmin boys who go begging for her maintenance. In the meantime, Rati is given complete control of the kingdom by her husband and she proceeds to overturn all the rules that were made by Mati, ordaining the opposite.

In his commentary, Adbhuta goes into great deal into the meaning of these various allegorical figures, which have at least two levels, one of which is that the king is Krishna and Rati is Radha. Ratipati, "husband of Rati" is of course a name for Cupid, which "sweet 'n' black" also indicates, as black is the color of śṛṅgāra-rasa.

There are 35 contradictions found in the city of love.

(1) yatrādharma eva dharmaḥ sthāpitaḥ | Abandonment of duty has become a duty.
(2) yathāsatyam eva satyam | Untruth is truth.
(3) yathānācāra evācāraḥ | Improper behavior is the norm.
(4) tathānādara evādaraḥ | Disrespect is respect.
(5) yatrāsantoṣa eva santoṣaḥ | Dissatisfaction is satisfaction.
(6) yatrāvinaya eva vinayaḥ | Impoliteness is politeness.
(7) yatrālaṅkṛtir evānalaṅkṛtiḥ | Ornamention is to be without ornaments.
(8) yatra puruṣā eva striyaḥ | Men are women.
(9) yatrājñānam eva jñānam | Ignorance is knowledge.
(10) yatra parājaya eva jayaḥ | Defeat is victory.
(11) yatra nikṛṣṭatvam evotkṛṣṭatvam | Lowliness is superiority.
(12) yatra tama eva prakāśaḥ | Darkness is light.
(13) yatra niṣedha eva vidhiḥ | Prohibitions are injunctions.
(14) yatrānuttaram eva pratyuttaram | Silence is the answer.
(15) yatrāśirasa eva sahasra-śirasaḥ | Having no head is having a thousand heads.
(16) yathācakṣuṣa eva sahasra-cakṣuṣaḥ | Having no eyes is having a thousand eyes.
(17) yatrābāhava eva sahasra-bāhavaḥ | Having no arms is having a thousand arms.
(18) yatrāpada eva sahasra-padaḥ | Having no feet is having a thousand feet.
(19) yatrānidratvam eva sa-nidratvam | Where wakefulness is sleep.
(20) yatra viyoga eva saṁyogaḥ | Where separation is union.
(21) yatra saṁyoga eva viyogaḥ | Where union is separation.
(22) yatra maraṇam eva jīvanam |Where death is life.
(23) yatra laghutvam eva gurutvam | Where lightness is heaviness.
(24) yatra stutir eva nindā | Where praise is censure.
(25) yatra nindaiva stutir asti | Where censure is praise.
(26) yatra natir eva paramonnatiḥ | Where bowing down is the greatest upliftment.
(27) yatra vyaya eva lābhaḥ | Where spending is gain.
(28) tatra vismaraṇam eva smaraṇam | Where forgetfulness is memory.
(29) yatrāgarvatvam eva sa-garvatvam | Where pridelessness is pride.
(30) yatra sakāmatvam evākāmatvam | Where desire is freedom from desire.
(31) yatra ravir eva candraḥ | Where the sun is the moon.
(32) yatra candra eva raviḥ | Where the moon is the sun.
(33) yatrāsanta eva santaḥ | Where the unholy are saints.
(34) yatrāsatītvam eva satītvam | Where infidelity is chastity.
(35) yatra satītvam evāsatītvam | Where the faithful woman is considered unchaste.

The commentary adds four more such contradictions at the very end: where infamy is glory, where chastisment is mercy, where non-poets are poets, and where students are teachers. He gives one example for each. But there are so many contradictions, how can one mention them all. This is simply an indication of the general direction to take in understanding the world of love. What must be borne in mind is that love is by definition crooked in its movement (svabhāva-kuṭilā) and thus those who experience this love often behave in ways that are puzzling to the ordinary observer, as stated by Rupa Goswami himself:

dhanyasyāyaṁ navaḥ premā yasyonmīlati cetasi |
antar-vāṇībhir apy asya mudrā suṣṭhu sudurgamā ||

The behavior of the fortunate person in whose heart such a new love has blossomed is truly difficult for even those knowledgeable in the sacred sciences to understand. (BRS 1.4.17)

Dharma and adharma

In Prema-pattana, both Harivams, as the author of Rādhā-rasa-sudhā-nidhi (RRSN), and Prabodhananda Saraswati, as the author of Vṛndāvana-mahimāmṛta (VMA), are quoted under the rubric "where irreligion is established as religion."

kaiśorādbhuta-mādhurī-bhara-dhurīṇāṅga-cchaviṁ rādhikāṁ
premollāsa-bharādhikāṁ niravadhi dhyāyanti ye tad-dhiyaḥ |
tyaktāḥ karmabhir ātmanaiva bhagavad-dharme'py aho nirmamāḥ
sarvāścarya-gatiṁ gatā rasa-mayīṁ tebhyo mahadbhyo namaḥ ||

Those who always meditate on Radhika, whose form is the amazing embodiment of all the amazing sweetness of adolescence, filled with the weighty enthusiastic joy of love and whose intelligence has become one with her, are themselves abandoned by duty and they do not even have any possessiveness towards the regulative duties of Bhagavat-dharma. They have attained the most amazing goal filled with rasa and so I repeatedly bow down to them. (82)

likhanti bhuja-mūlato na khalu śaṅkha-cakrādikaṁ
vicitra-hari-mandiraṁ na racayanti bhāla-sthale |
lasat-tulasi-mālikāṁ dadhati kaṇṭha-pīṭhe na vā
guror bhajana-vikramāt ka iha te mahā-buddhayaḥ ||

Who are those greatly intelligent persons here who on the strength of their worship of the guru do not stamp their arms with the conch and discus, who do not mark their foreheads with the beautiful temple of Hari, and who do not place the string of tulasi beads around their necks? (81)

Those Gaudiyas who use the RRSN as a religious book interpret the word mahā-buddhayaḥ ("most intelligent") in RRSN 81 as mahā-abuddhayaḥ ("most foolish"), even though Prabodhananda uses the term in its clear sense in VMA (5.58).

To be properly understood, both verses should be read together as the former makes clear what is meant by mahā-buddhayaḥ. Harilal Vyas points out that the intention of the verses is made clear by the words tyaktāḥ karmabhir ātmanaiva, which means that these devotees do not intentionally or consciously abandon religious principles, but are abandoned by them.

kuru sakalam adharmaṁ muñca sarvaṁ sva-dharmaṁ
tyaja gurum api vṛndāraṇya-vāsānurodhāt |
sa tava parama-dharmaḥ sā ca bhaktir gurūṇāṁ
sa kila kaluṣa-rāśir yad dhi vāsāntarāyaḥ ||

Do all kinds of irreligious works, abandon your own prescribed duties, give up your guru if need be in order to live in Vrindavan. That is your supreme duty and that is devotion to your gurus! Whatever is an obstacle to residence in Vrindavan is a mound of sin. (VMA 17.49)

This appears to confirm that, as a direct neighbor of the Radha-vallabha temple, Rasikottamsa of the Gadadhar Bhatta family was aware that both Prabodhananda and Harivams shared a common attitude towards the external rules, regulations and rituals of religion and that he was sympathetic to this attitude.

Heads and no heads

As mentioned above, an alternate name of the kingdom of love was "the home of those who do not have one head" (verse 6). This idea appears again in the list of contents as subject #15, "Where having no head is having a thousand heads."

In the commentary to verse 6, Adbhuta quotes the verse by his younger brother (?) Rasika Vallabha:

gagana-talād avani-talaṁ
daiva-vaśād etya sukha-nivāsāya |
pṛcchati muhuḥ sa-śirasaḥ
sadanam aśirasaḥ paraṁ prema ||

When supreme love fortuitously came down from the heavens on the earth, in order to find a place where it could live happily, it constantly asked the whereabouts of the home of one without a head from those with heads.

This is followed by a number of other quotes, most of which seem to be either Adbhuta or Rasikottamsa's own compositions:

na pītam amṛtaṁ mayā dina-niśākṛtor antare
vanāgama-virodhitā bata kṛtā na sītā-pateḥ |
na puṇya-salilāplutaṁ nija-śiraḥ śivāyārpitaṁ
mudhā bhavitum īhate mama mano rater āspadam ||

I did not drink of the nectar found between the sun and the moon. I did not protest against the banishment of Rama to the forest. I did not immerse myself in the holy waters nor surrender my head to Shiva, so futile is my hope of ever attaining divine love (rati).

This verse may also be by Rasika Vallabha since there is a Brij Bhasha song that seems to be a translation of it. Otherwise, they are introduced by the words yathā vā, which seems to be the mark of original verses from Rasikottamsa's pen [even though these happen to be in the commentary].

dūre lagnaṁ prema-phalaṁ sarvathaiva yad īhase |
nidhehi rasika svīyaṁ śiraḥ sva-padayor adhaḥ ||

If you really want that fruit of love that is hanging so far away, then, my dear rasika, place your head below your feet.

mā prema-pūraṁ viśa vā śiraḥ svaṁ
dūraṁ nidhāyaiva padaṁ nidhehi |
vyadhāyi dhātraiva gatoparodhaḥ
premottamāṅgottamayor virodhaḥ ||

Do not go into the stream of love! Or, first leave your head somewhere far away, and then step forward. For God had decreed that there should be opposition between love and even the best of heads.

These are "interesting" and mysterious utterances indeed. Adbhuta quotes by way of explanation Bhagavatam 11.21.35 and 4.28.65, where the Lord is said to favor indirect speech (parokṣa-vāda). "Indirect speech such as that used in the story of Puranjana in the Bhagavatam, is comparable to the veil by which a newly-wed bride keeps her face covered, thereby increasing her groom's eagerness to see it; it makes one more aware of the delightful wonder that is hidden in those words; it also has the purpose of hiding the object of one's worship and thereby making the literary composition (sandarbha) more dear to the Lord. (atra purañjanopākhyānādivat parokṣatvena kathanaṁ tu nava-vadhūnām avaguṇöhanam iva nijoktīnāṁ darśanotkalikayā camatkāra-viśeṣārthaṁ tathā nijopāsyasya vastunaḥ saṅgopanārtham nija-sandarbhasya bhagavat-priyatvāpādanārthaṁ ca.)

To what extent we can find a parallel between parokṣa-vāda and the so-called sandhyā-bhāṣā of the Tantriks is debatable; there is no necessity to presume the same kinds of secrets that the Tantriks hide with their language. Though the words na pītam amṛtaṁ mayā dina-niśākṛtor antare are tantalizingly Tantrik in flavor, it would seem to me that the purpose is to mock any indirect practices and their incapacity to reach prema or rati. Nevertheless, the mysterious nexus of human and divine love is something to which one is repeatedly drawn when discussing madhura-rasa and the mystery of the similarity and difference of human and divine.

The idea that allegorical interpretation is necessary, even when the allegory is not obvious as in this case or in that of Puranjan, leaves the doors fairly wide open when we try to determine the meaning of a text. At the very least, it leaves the doors open to a multivalenced interpretation that reminds us of the permanent mystery of divine love and the impossibility of ever achieving full understanding.

Saintliness in the city of love.

anyatra pīta-gītā
bhava-bhītā viṣaya-vāsanā-vītāḥ |
santas tad-viparītā
hanta sakhi prema-pattane gītāḥ ||

Elsewhere people drink the Gita, fear entanglement in material life and free themselves from material desires, they are called saintly, O friend, here in the city of love it is the opposite who are so glorified. (verse 239)

There is a lengthy commentary here, first setting up the verse as follows, "Once upon a time, by some good fortune, a holy woman came to Vrindavan from a far off land. She had regularly been reading the Bhagavad-gītā and the Viṣṇu-sahasra-nāma and other general devotional practices, but being a practitioner in the mood of peaceful devotion, she had no concept of the ways of divine love. Then, by another burst of good fortune, she came into contact with an exclusive rasika devotee whose life and soul was the sweet nectar of devotion to the Divine Couple. So she asked him, 'Why do the Vaishnavas here seem to have no respect for the Gita and these other texts?' In answer, the devotee laughed compassionately and slowly spoke this verse."

The commentary goes on to explain how there are different levels of qualification indicated by the three adjectives in the verse, offering plenty of Bhagavata pramana. Those living in Vrindavan have attained a higher adhikara than that for the Gita because they are free of other desires, karma and jnana, they have no more fear of death or worldly suffering, and here also they take care of their bodies, wearing nice clothes and using sandalwood paste and so on without renouncing them as sense objects. [Quotes 11.6.46 here, indicating that this means prasad.]

"So," the rasika devotee said, "now that you understand the behavior of the local people who have attained this ultimate state of perfection, stop trying to change them! O friend! There is a saying, 'Walk seven steps in the company of a saint and you will get his friendship,' (satāṁ sāptapadī maitrī). If you want to become like them, then live here in Vrindavan, sincerely serve the rasika devotees, and bathe in the Yamuna. These are the only means of attaining this state, as we ourselves testify."

That should give you a little taste of what is in this little-known book of the Gaudiya Sampradaya. The 1.01 version can now be found on the Gaudiya Grantha Mandira.

Snippets of Bhava

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Sun, 13 Nov 2011 08:12:00 +0000

These are some notes on the word bhāva as it appears in the BRS and UN, compiled while I was working on Mādhurya-kādambinī. They were originally posted a few years ago on Gaudiya Discussions and the now defunct Wise Wisdoms site. Somewhat modified and updated here.

prāyo dvividha evāyaṁ bhāvo dvividhānāṁ bhaktānāṁ dvividha-cid-vāsanā-sanātheṣu hṛdayeṣu sphuran dvividhāsvādyatvaṁ bhajate, ghana-rasa iva rasāla-panasekṣu-drākṣādiṣu praviṣṭaḥ pṛthak-pṛthaṅ-mādhuryavattvaṁ bhajate.

When this bhāva, which is usually of these two types, enters into the hearts of the two kinds of devotees (vaidha and rāgānugā), which are ruled by two different kinds of transcendental desire, it is relished in two different ways. It can be compared to the water (ghana-rasa) that enters various kinds of fruit—mangoes, jackfruit, sugarcane or grapes—but takes on a different flavor in each of them. (Mādhurya-kādambinī 7.4)

The point being: Vishwanath seems to be saying, nay emphasizing, that bhāva, being of the śuddha-sattva, is like water--without color or flavor--but that it takes on its particular color or flavor in the heart of the devotee according to the types of desires, etc., that he has.

atha tasyā eva bhakti-kalpa-vallyāḥ sādhanābhikhye ye pūrvaṁ dve patrike lakṣite, idānīṁ tato’ticikkaṇāni tādṛśa-śravaṇa-kīrtanādi-mayāni bhāva-kusuma-saṁlagnāni anubhāvābhidhānāni bahūni patrāṇi sahasaivāvirbhūya kṣaṇe kṣaṇe dyotayanti. yāny eva bhāva-kusumaṁ pariṇāmaṁ prāpayya punas tadaiva premābhidhāna-phalatvam ānayanti.

Previously [in the second chapter of MK], the two leaves known as sādhana were observed growing from the desire creeper of bhakti. Now, from that creeper many other leaves known as anubhāvas suddenly manifest. These are the same kinds of devotional activities like hearing and chanting found in sādhana-bhakti, but are smoother and more brilliant. Surrounding the flower o bhāva, they shine brilliantly and cause a transformation in it, turning it at that very moment into the fruit of prema. (Mādhurya-kādambinī 8.1)

What was missed in the earlier translations was the comparative in tato'ticikkaṇāni "smoother and shinier" and the understanding that anubhāvas are spontaneous actions that follow (anu) emotional states (bhāva). Thus, in the Mādhurya-kādambinī, we started with hearing and chanting that was done as a practice, i.e., governed by the intelligence and geared towards achieving an inner result (bhāva). Now, we have external actions that are impelled by emotion. Though the active intelligence is still involved (distinguishing anubhāvas from sāttvikas), at this stage it is completely spontaneous. According to Vishwanath, it is the combination of bhāva (as in the previous chapter) with the other ingredients of rasa that leads to prema.

samyaṅ masṛṇita-svānto mamatvātiśayāṅkitaḥ
bhāvaḥ sa eva sāndrātmā budhaiḥ premā nigadyate

When bhāva becomes very intense and completely softens the heart through being endowed with a great sense of intimacy with Krishna, the learned call it prema. (BRS 1.4.1)

ananya-mamatā viṣṇau mamatā prema-saṅgatā
bhaktir ity ucyate bhīṣma-prahlādoddhava-nāradaiḥ

That which reverts the feeling of intimacy towards the body and home into feelings of intimacy towards Sri Vishnu, has been called prema by great saints like Bhishma, Prahlada, Uddhava and Narada. (BRS 1.4.2)

A note about the word mamatā. It is a hard word to translate. Literally, it means "mine-ness." It is used frequently in association with the word ahaṁtā or ahaṅkāra as a quality of material consciousness. It is identification with objects outside of oneself, through which one seeks self-value. Just as identity or ego is purified through understanding that one's true self is servant of God, so too is a devotee's sense of external value established through Krishna.

In other words, aham is about me in relation to the world and God; mama is about God and the world in relation to me.

The word madīyatā, though it has the same meaning, in the context of bhakti-rasa appears to have a stronger sense. Why is madīyatā considered stronger than tadīyatā? Because in the latter, one is still thinking somewhat in terms of one's self.

I was thinking about this the other day: Love means identifying so closely with someone else that you no longer even have a place for the consciousness that "I am yours." We talk about Krishna being the viṣaya and the devotee being the āśraya. Ujjvala-nīlamaṇi says, "You are to identify with the devotee and not with Krishna," likely in order to forestall Krishna imitators "engaging in the Rasa Lila." But in fact, to serve, one has to identify closely with the object of service. Radha says, "I know what Krishna likes, and I will do it for him -- no matter what he says." Chandravali has not achieved that same level of intimacy or identification, so she still responds to Krishna's words rather than to his inner desires.

We do and indeed must identify with Krishna, though not in the sense of ahaṅgrahopāsanā. We identify with Krishna as a part of the process of sādhāraṇī-karaṇa, as explained in the rasa shastra. Observe yourself when you watch a film or TV program. How are your emotions being manipulated? Does it matter really which character is an object of pity or affection for you to be moved? Certainly--to some extent--but ultimately, the potential is there to identify with any character to experience some sentiment--even the bad guys.

In terms of bhakti-rasa, the intimacy with Krishna develops to the extent that we are capable of empathizing with the pleasure or pain of the Other.

In his commentary, Mukunda Das picks up on something that Ananta Dasji follows. Prema is the intensification of bhāva. Mukunda says that whereas rucis (rucibhiś citta-māsṛṇya-kṛt) are the source of ecstasy (i.e., the "melting of the heart") in bhāva, in prema it is the mamatā. The rucis are defined in Jiva's commentary as desires. He further defines them: rucibhiḥ prāpty-abhilāṣa-sva-kartṛkānukūlyābhilāṣa-sauhārdābhilāṣaiś cittārdratā-kṛt -- "the desires to attain the Lord, to be able to act in a way favorable to him, and to achieve intimacy (sauhārda) with him."

So, it seems that the special characteristic of prema is that one becomes ecstatic directly as a result of Krishna's pleasure itself, through intense identification with him. Whereas on the level o bhāva, there is still an element of self, whereby one is moved by one's own desire.

Ujjvala-nīlamaṇi 14.155, the definition of [mahā-]bhāva.

anurāgaḥ sva-saṁvedya-daśāṁ prāpya prakāśitaḥ
yāvad-āśraya-vṛttiś ced bhāva ity abhidhīyate

This verse is interpreted differently by Jiva Goswami and Vishwanath.

Rāga is the shelter of anurāga, and when it has arisen as far as it can, it is called yāvad-āśraya-vṛtti, in other words, permeated every mental and physical function of the lover. When this anurāga has attained the condition of sva-saṁvedya it is known as mahābhāva. And sva-saṁvedya means that only those Vrajadevīs who have attained this yāvad-āśraya-vṛtti anurāga or mahābhāva can know it.

No other type of devotee has mahābhāva. Indeed, it cannot be attained even by Rukmini, Satyabhama or Krishna’s other queens. In it are manifestations of uddīpta and sūddīpta-sāttvika-bhāvas. There are also many other astonishing manifestations of mahābhāva, and it also contains all the features o sneha, māna and praṇaya, etc.

I originally found this verse to be somewhat opaque in its meaning. Jiva and Vishwanath have taken quite different views of it. I will attempt to clarify its meaning with the help of the three commentaries.

The Caitanya-caritāmṛta makes a distinction between bhāva and mahābhāva as follows.

hlādinīra sāra prema, prema-sāra bhāva
bhāvera parama-kāṣṭhā, nāma mahā-bhāva

The essence of the hlādinī potency is love of ṅod; the essence of love of ṅod is feeling (bhāva), and the ultimate development of feeling is mahā-bhāva. (Caitanya-caritāmṛta, 1.4.68)

First a look back at bhāva in Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu, 1.3.4-5. This pair of verses is refered to by Jiva in the commentary to UN above, and it contains some parallels with the verse in question. Also useful for understanding aspects of Mādhurya-kādambinī.

This verse follows a quote from the Padma Purana (BRS 1.3.3) with that famous Chandrakanti--"Meditating constantly on Krishna's lotus feet, she felt herself change slightly and her eyes filled with tears." So the question is about bhāva's appearance in a devotee within the material world.

āvirbhūya mano-vṛttau vrajantī tat-svarūpatāṁ
svayaṁ-prakāśa-rūpāpi bhāsamānā prākāśyavat
vastutaḥ svayam āsvāda-svarūpaiva ratis tv asau
kṛṣṇādi-karmakāsvāda-hetutvaṁ pratipadyate

Rati/bhāva (though being a property of the internal potency or suddha-sattva) descends into mental processes (mano-vṛttau) of the devotee and becomes identical with them. Even though it is self-manifest, it appears to be something that has been made to appear (by external activities like sādhanas). Though in fact rati is of the nature of relish itself, the actions of Krishna (his energies and his devotees) take on the causality of the relishing.

Here are a few more Ujjvala-nīlamaṇi verses before I get back to the subject at hand. First are Rupa Goswami's three examples of rūḍha-mahābhāva, selected for their relevence to the idea of yāvad-āśraya-vṛtti.

(1)

Making even the lower animals cry. This verse is spoken by either Vrinda (according to Vishnu Das) or Nandimukhi (Vishwanath ) to Paurnamasi :

yāte dvāravatī-puraṁ muraripau tad-vastra-saṁvyānayā
kālindī-taṭa-kuñja-vañjula-latām ālāmbya sotkaṇṭhayā
udgītaṁ guru-bāṣpa-gadgada-galat-tāra-svaraṁ rādhayā
yenāntar-jala-cāribhir jala-carair apy utkam utkūjitam

When Krishna, the enemy of Mura, had gone to Dvaraka,
Radha stood by the Yamuna, holding fast onto a hibiscus bush,
hugging Krishna’s upper cloth so as to grasp his fragrance.
Loudly and with a voice full of lamentation,
she sang a piteous song, her voice broken by the rush of tears,
causing even the fish, dolphins and crocodiles
deep beneath the water to wail in harmony.

(UN 14.188, Padyāvalī 373 (Aparajita), SKM 1.58.4 (anonymous); Dhvanyāloka, Vak 2.59; etc.)

(2)
This verse is an example of being ready to accept even death if it is someone of service to Krishna.

pañcatvaṁ tanur etu bhūta-nivahāḥ svāṁśe viśantu sphuṭaṁ
dhātāraṁ praṇipatya hanta śirasā tatrāpi yāce varam
tad-vāpīṣu payas tadīya-mukure jyotis tadīyāṅgana-
vyomni vyoma tadīya-vartmani dharā tat-tāla-vṛnte’nilaḥ

O Master of my Destiny, I fall down and place my head at your feet,
praying to you to give me this benediction:
Let this body die and all its elements be mixed with the cosmic elements;
let the water of my body mix with the lake where Krishna bathes,
its light enter his mirror, to serve him when he beholds his reflection,
its ether merge with his courtyard, to surround him when he walks, talks or yawns,
may the earth in my body enter the ground upon which he walks
and the life air itself enter the palm-leaf fan used to relieve him from the heat.

(UN 14.189, Padyāvalī 336 (Shanmasika), Spd 3428; Smv 43.32; Sbhv 1355)

(3)

This is the characteristic of rūḍha-bhāva, that it perturbs the hearts of everyone who comes in contact with it (āsanna-janatā-hṛd-viloḍanaṁ). This verse is spoken either by Rukmini or one of her friends, speaking in glorification of the gopis’s extraordinary love. It's a double entendre, so I just combined the two readings of the verse--one refering to this world, the other stretching to the Vaikuntha worlds.

sakhyaḥ prokṣya kurūn guru-kṣiti-bhṛtām āghūrṇayantī śiraḥ
svasthā viślathayanty aśeṣa-ramaṇīr āplāvya sarvaṁ janam
gopīnām anurāga-sindhu-laharī satyāntaraṁ vikramair
ākramya stimitāṁ vyadhād api parāṁ vaikuṇṭha-kaṇṭha-śriyam

O friends, the gopis’ love for Krishna is like the sea,
whose waves wash over the land and people of Kuru,
it topples the peaks of the great mountains,
just as it makes the heads of kings like Yudhishtir spin.
It disturbs the countless goddesses in heaven,
as it does everyone who is calm of mind.
and then inundates all Janaloka realm,
as it does everyone in this world.
Its waves over Satyaloka,
just as it overwhelms Satyabhama,
and even extends as far as Vaikuntha,
where it paralyzes the opulences of the goddess of fortune.
... as it does all of us goddesses of fortune. (UN 14.164)

A couple more verses before I get back to the promised commentaries. This first one is an example of "the power to make Krishna faint, even when he is in the arms of another lover." This is actually very relevant to the definition of mahābhāva given. Vishwanath's tika is brilliant, but I am already far enough off base to be able to translate that too. This verse is really great. What is amazing is that it is by the competitor to Jayadeva, Umapati Dhara. I think this verse is one of the most brilliant pre-Chaitanya verses for describing the mood in question.

ratna-cchāyā-cchurita-jaladhau mandire dvārakāyā
rukmiṇyāpi prabala-pulakodbhedam āliṅgitasya |
viśvaṁ pāyān masṛṇa-yamunā-tīra-vānīra-kuñje
rādhā-kelī-parimala-bhara-dhyāna-mūrcchā murāreḥ

In the Dvaraka palace standing
on the shores of the ocean, sprinkled with sparkling gems,
Krishna's body hairs stood on end
in Queen Rukmini's ecstatic embrace.

But suddenly recalling the fragrance
of dalliances joyfully exchanged with Radha
in the reeds by the banks of the black Yamuna waters,
he fainted. May that faint protect you always.

(SKM 1.61.1; UN 14.184; JIva and Vishwanath to BRS 2.4.178)

(4)

Rupa next gives two examples of brahmāṇḍa-kṣobha-kāritvaṁ

nāraṁ cukrośa cakraṁ phaṇi-kulam abhavad vyākulaṁ svedam ūhe
vṛndaṁ vṛndārakāṇāṁ pracuram udamucann aśru vaikuṇṭha-bhājaḥ |
rādhāyāś citram īśa bhramati diśi diśi prema-niḥśvāsa-dhūme
pūrṇānande’py uṣitvā bahir idam abahiś cārtam āsīd ajāṇḍam ||

Vishwanath: This is about something that happens from time to time, not always, as indicated by the use of the past rather than present tense. So when Krishna was in Mathura, Radha was feeling his absence so intently that from time to time her sthayi bhava would rise to the mohana level. At this stage, the whole universe would be affected. Once Nandimukhi saw this going on and immediately ran to Krishna in Mathura to tell him what she had seen, to tell him of Radha’s misery.

All the human race began to wail;
the nagas and creatures of the lower worlds trembled;
the assembled denizens of heaven broke into a sweat,
and the residents of Vaikuntha shed a flood of tears.

O Lord! These are the amazing consequences
of the smoke from Radha’s loving breath
as it spread in every direction:
though they were enjoying full bliss,
both the inner and outer universes felt disturbed.

Krishna answered, "You are quite right Nandimukhi. I too was affected, for I was in bed with Rukmini at the time, and yet I fainted; and she too was deeply affected."

This example thus shows that the phrase yāvad-āśraya-vṛttiḥ in the definition of mahābhāva must be extended to include every last creature in the universe, since the potential for devotion is present in them all.

Vishwanath asks himself the question: "I have heard that Krishna’s pastimes are going on constantly. Radha is no doubt experiencing these periods of mohana-mahābhāva, and yet we don’t see the entire universe being affected in this way. Why is that?" His answer is that it only takes place in the universe where Krishna is having his prakata-līlā. (14.186)

My personal feeling though is that the intention here is that since every creature is constitutionally, by nature, an āśraya of bhāva, that every mood, every manifestation of rasa or potential for rasa, is an expansion of that original love that exists in the first act of creation, when the One determines to become Two, and then many.

--o)0(o--

Second example. In the previous verse, the fiery nature of mohana-mahābhāva was insinuated by the words "smoke from Radha’s loving breath." This same theme is further developed here. Radha says to Vishakha,

aurva-stomāt kaṭur api kathaṁ durbalenorasā me
tāpaḥ prauḍho hari-virahajaḥ sahyate tan na jāne
niṣkrāntā ced bhavati hṛdayād yasya dhūma-cchaṭāpi
brahmāṇḍānāṁ sakhi kulam api jvālayā jājvalīti

How I will be able to bear
the heat of Krishna’s absence,
which is sharper than molten lava,
within my feeble breast, I do not know.

Such a fire is it, my friend,
that should even a puff of smoke
find its way out of my heart,
all the universes would burn to a crisp
from its heat.

Again, Vishwanath reiterates that this mohana-mahābhāva is not a constant state but only occasional, pointing to the phrase "should even a puff of smoke find its way out of my heart."

anurāgaḥ sva-saṁvedya-daśāṁ prāpya prakāśitaḥ
yāvad-āśraya-vṛttiś cet tadā bhāva ity abhidhīyate

My basic problem with this verse stems from the fact that Jiva and Vishwanath (and Vishnudas) have quite divergent interpretations. As I said above, I am not convinced that Vishwanath had Vishnudas’s commentary in front of him when he wrote his commentary. Similarly, it is hard to say whether Vishnudas had ever seen Jiva’s tika. He does not refute, copy, follow, or seem to engage with Jiva's ideas in any way (though I may have missed something). The situation is quite different from the Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu where the relations between the different commentaries are very clear. On the other hand, Vishwanath often refutes Jiva’s positions in UN, especially on the parakiya-svakiya question. Here is one case in which they are in clear disagreement.

In general, I assume that Jiva knew Rupa Goswami’s mind fairly well. However, Vishwanath is pretty brilliant and may well have sussed something that Jiva didn’t. This is why it has been necessary to read all the verses and commentaries from the subsequent section of verses in UN, which describe the characteristics of mahābhāva. It must be said, of course, that mahābhāva has subcategories itself, but each of these subcategories and their characteristics must somehow fit the basic general definition of mahābhāva given in this verse.

Here is where the shloka’s anvaya becomes all important. Jiva reads the verse like this : anurāgo yāvad-āśraya-vṛttiś cet, tarhi sva-saṁvedya-daśāṁ prāpya prakāśitaḥ bhāva ity abhidhīyate.

Vishwanath reads it more straightforwardly, changing almost nothing: anurāgo sva-saṁvedya-daśāṁ prāpya prakāśitaḥ, [ata eva] yāvad-āśraya-vṛttiś [syāt], tadā bhāva ity abhidhīyate.

Though Vishwanath does drop the word "if" (cet) from this anvaya, he accommodates it in his next sentence. I’ll come back to this. First, a word-by-word:

1. anurāgaḥ. Each stage of the sthāyi-bhāva develops out of the preceding one, or at least has some relation to it. The definition of anurāga was given as follows:

svānubhūtam api yaḥ kuryān nava-navaṁ priyam
rāgo bhavan nava-navaḥ so’nurāga itīryate

When rāga is renewed at every moment, and one experiences the beloved in an entirely fresh way each time one sees him, this is called anurāga. (UN 14.146)

2. sva. This is a reflexive pronoun, "itself, himself, or herself." The trouble here is that the antecedent is not clear. For Jiva it is the "person who already has anurāga, but is headed towards mahābhāva, in other words, only some special individuals from amongst Krishna’s mistresses" (svasya bhāvonmukhatā-prāptānurāgavatas tat-preyasī-jana-viśeṣasyaiva).

Vishwanath says that it refers back to anurāga, which is grammatically more reasonable—a reflexive pronoun usually refers to the nearest reasonably credible noun. The problem of course is "How does anurāga itself perceive anything?" i.e. Can we say, "When love reaches the stage of only being understood by love"? And if we do, what does that mean?

3. saṁvedya. "to be felt, perceived emotionally." saṁvedanam generally is used to mean intuition, empathy or sympathetic feeling. Of course, this is derived from the same root as saṁvit, so "to be known, understood, or be conscious of" seem a reasonable assumption.

However, the dictionary provides an interesting synonym derived from another verb root, which none of the three commentaries touches on but fits the example in UN 14.156 very well—"joining, uniting, or fusing." Unfortunately, this only compounds the problems surrounding the word sva mentioned above.

4. daśāṁ. "state, stage, condition."

5. prāpya. "reaching, attaining." So the first part of the verse is literally this: "When anurāga reaches a state where it is only understandable to itself."

6. prakāśitaḥ. "revealed." Shri Jiva explains this as "manifests externally through the uddiptādi-sāttvikas, i.e., the most inflamed ecstatic displays."

7. yāvat. "up to, as far as, to the extreme limit."

8. āśraya. "the container, receptacle, refuge, resort, foundational basis." ḥere again we are faced with a little ambiguity. Jiva and Vishwanath have very different understandings. For Jiva, the āśraya here is the āśraya of anurāga, or its foundational basis, which is rAga. (From the definition of anurāga, we know that rāga, become ever newer, reveals the object of love as ever newer, even when constantly being dwelled upon. The definition of rāga is given as follows:

duḥkham apy adhikaṁ citte sukhatvenaiva rajyate
yatas tu praṇayotkarṣāt sa rāga iti kīrtyate

When pranaya becomes very strong, one considers even the greatest suffering in love to be happiness. This is called rāga. (UN 14.126)

For Vishwanath, however, the āśraya here follows the definition of the rasa shastra, i.e., the receptacle of devotion, as in "the devotee is the āśraya, Krishna the viṣaya."

9. vṛttiḥ. This word has basically two meanings, "a state or condition" or "function (activity, work, things it does)." The latter is the more common usage (like in citta- vṛttiḥ) and Jiva accepts it here in this context.

This compound as a whole would mean either "fully possesses all the possible functions of its āśraya (rāga)" (Jiva) and "its functions (or effects) extend to all āśrayas" (Vishwanath)

10. cet. "if" or perhaps "when." Vishwanath limits its application to yāvad-āśraya-vṛtti, as does Jiva in his anvaya. In his commentary, however, he seems to apply it to prakāśitaH.

11. tadā bhāva ity abhidhīyate. "Then it is known as bhāva."

So: Translation according to Jiva :

If anurāga [in its technical sense described in 14.146] reaches the fullest extent of the functions of its own fundamental basis (i.e. rāga, described in 14.123), then it attains a state comprehensible only to Krishna’s dearest lovers, a state which when revealed through the most extreme ecstatic symptoms is known as [mahā-]bhāva.

Translation according to Vishwanath:

If anurāga attains a state comprehensible only to itself, is then revealed externally and transmitted to all receptacles of love for Krishna, then it is known as [mahā-]bhāva.

Here now is a fuller translation of the commentaries:

Jiva: The word order here should be taken in the following way: ānurāga, which has been defined and discussed earlier, if it possesses the functions to the fullest extent of its basis, then it attains a state where it is perceptible to itself, is revealed externally and is known as bhāva. The meaning of bhāva here is the extreme semantic limit of the word, just as "Sri Krishna" is the extreme semantic limit of the word bhagavān. Thus, in order to make this distinction, the word "mahābhāva" is sometimes used, just as we sometimes say svayaM bhagavān to be clear about what we mean.

The purport here is this: The compound word yāvad-āśraya functions as an adverb of quantity or extent. Just like we might use it in an adverbial phrase, such as "invite as many Brahmins as there are bowls." [English and Sanskrit grammatical categories don’t seem to quite mesh.] The word āśraya can only refer to rāga, for anurāga takes on the nature of bhāva by building further on the characteristics of rāga. Evidence of this can be found in the example that follows, where it is written, "To make a wondrous picture, [Love] himself added color to it [caused anurāga in the lovers] with the vermilion of new pigments (ever-new rāga)." (nava-rāga-hiṅgula-bharaiś citrāya svayam anvarañjayat).

Later in this chapter it will be said,

rāgānurāgatām ādau snehaḥ prāpyaiva satvaram |
mānatvaṁ praṇayatvaṁ ca kvacit paścāt prapadyate ||
ata eva prabandheṣu śrūyate rādhikādiṣu |
pūrva-rāga-prasaṅge’pi prakaṭaṁ rāga-lakṣaṇam ||

The sthāyi-bhāva known as sneha sometimes first becomes rāga or anurāga, and only afterwards mana or pranaya. This is why in certain works of literature, Radha shows the signs of these higher states even when in the first throes of love (pūrva-rāga). (14.228-9)

So the compound yāvad-āśraya-vṛtti is an adjectival compound with an adverb contained within it, meaning "that which has attained all the possible functions found in rāga."

The word sva-saṁvedya-daśā means the condition that is comprehensible to those who already have anurāga, but are headed towards mahābhāva, in other words, only some special individuals from amongst Krishna’s mistresses. Having attained this condition, if on occasion it is revealed through the most extreme sāttvikas (uddīpta), the sthāyi is known as bhāva.

The intent here is this. Rāga has been defined as seeing distressful conditions in love as sources of joy. The most extreme manifestation of distress for married women of good repute from respectable families is to lose their reputation for chastity and to be ostracized by their family and society. Neither fire nor death are as painful for them as this. However, when the relationship with Krishna makes them abandon their religious principles and the loving ties of their families and society, then even these seem to be a source of happiness. This then is the ultimate limit of rāga.

This attitude is seen in the Vraja gopis from the very beginning of their love for Krishna, whereas it cannot even be conceived of in the Dwaraka queens. In order to show that this manifests in the very beginnings of their love, the word "new" in the above-cited phrase from the example verse will be given. ["To make a wondrous picture, [Love] himself added color to it [caused anurāga in the lovers] with the vermilion of new pigments (ever-new rāga)." (nava-rāga-hiṅgula-bharaiś citrāya svayam anvarañjayat).]

It is as a testimony to the marvel of this love that Uddhava praised the gopis with the words,

āsām aho caraṇa-reṇu-juṣām ahaṁ syāṁ
vṛndāvane kim api gulma-latauṣadhīnām
yā dustyajaṁ sva-janam ārya-pathaṁ ca hitvā
bhejur mukunda-padavīṁ śrutibhir vimṛgyām

Ah, but that I could become one of Vrindavan's herbs and plants which are regularly sprinkled with the dust of the gopis’ feet, for the gopis abandoned both their families and their religious principles, both of which are extremely difficult to give up, in order to worship Mukunda, the ultimate goal of all the Vedic literatures. (SB 10.47.61)

This statement indicates that though it was impossible for them to give up these things, they still did so. Thus this proves the degree of their concern for family and religious principles.

--o)0(o--

Vishnudas:

atha bhāva iti | anurāga iti svasyātmanaḥ saṁvedya-daśām anubhavāvasthāṁ prāpya prakāśitaḥ san yāvantaḥ āśrayāḥ sajātīya-bhaktāḥ siddha-sādhaka-bhedena dvidhās teṣu vṛttir vyāptir yasya saḥ | yad-anubhavataḥ sarve te’nurāga-vivaśā bhavantīty arthaḥ ||154||

When anurāga reaches a state where it is only understandable to itself, is revealed, and pervades all the receptacles of bhakti in the same genre, devotees on either the stage of sadhana or siddhi, then that is bhava. īn other words, bhava, the experience of which makes everyone helpless with anurāga.

--o)0(o--

Jiva Goswami’s interpretation of mahābhāva is confirmed in his reading of Rupa Goswami’s example:

rādhāyā bhavataś ca citta-jatunī svedair vilāpya kramāt
yuñjann adri-nikuñja-kuñjara-pate nirdhūta-bheda-bhramam |
citrāya svayam anvarañjayad iha brahmāṇḍa-harmyodare
bhūyobhir nava-rāga-hiṅgula-bharaiḥ śṛṅgāra-kāruḥ kṛtī ||

The God of Love is a great craftsman:
he has taken the lac of Radha's soul and yours,
and melted them together with his perspiring heat.
O king of the elephants in the groves of Govardhan!
He has joined your souls together and washed away
any sense you had of difference between you.
Then, in order to paint the inner chambers
of the universal mansion, he added
yet more vermilion color to the mix. (UN 14.155)

There's a double meaning to this verse that is very difficult to convey. This will just be a first draft. The idea is that the God of Love is an artist who has joined Radha and Krishna's souls. The metaphor is that the artist is mixing paints in lac, adding vermilion to it so that he can paint the inside of the mansion of the universe. He has to melt the hard lac before he can add color to it. Similarly, Radha and Krishna's hearts are like lac. Placing them in the fire of love (sveda means perspiration, which evokes erotic connotations), and melts them together. Then he adds the red color (anu√rañj is the same verb that anurāga is derived from) with the "new vermilion colored dye" (nava-rāga-hiṅgula-bharaiḥ).

This brings the ideas of both rāga and anurāga into the picture, as Jiva did with his interpretation of mahābhāva. Still, the idea of yāvad-āśraya-vṛtti, that this love of Radha and Krishna extends into the universe is found in the words harmyodare -- painting inside the belly of the universe. This is the way Vishwanath interpreted the mahābhāva definition--that this love expands to envelop everyone within the three worlds.

Charisma and legitimacy in Vaishnava sampradayas

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Fri, 14 Oct 2011 05:30:00 +0000

Ashudhir Dev was the guru of Haridas, as proven in Nija-mata-siddhānta, not his father. The same is hinted (Dhvani!) in the Bhaktamāla. The hereditary Bankebihariji Gussains from Sharan Behari Goswami onwards, preach the contrary yet they have never been able to come up with hard evidence. SBG’s work does not even bear credibility in this regard. The reverend Amolakram Shastri, the Sadhus of Tatiya Sthan, the Beriwala family, etc., all are Haridasis but they offer their respect to the entire Guruparampara (i.e. Nimbarki until Swami Haridas).

I could do with some enlightenment if anyone has more on the subject. That is, only if it ventures into credibility, beyond for example, the old-scholars-tale that the Haridasis were seeking to legitimize themselves (in the old days) by claiming allegiance with the Nimbarkis.

The Tatia Sthan (Lalita Prakashan) edition of Kelimāl includes a section called sampradāya-vandanā-stuti, which is headed with the following verse:

śrīmad-dhaṁsa-samarambhāṁ sanakādika-madhyamām |
śrī-nārada-yutāṁ śuddhāṁ nimbārka-paribṛṁhitām |
asmad-ācārya-paryantāṁ vande guru-paramparām ||

One will quickly recognize this as the stock-in-trade homage to disciplic successions that are used by many lines. It can be looked at as either an abbreviation to avoid having to name everyone in a long list, or a tacit recognition that no such list exists. In either case, I would hazard a guess that it is a later accretion.

The problem is that Swami Haridas himself does not speak of guru tattva, as far as I can see. He mentions Asudhira in two sakhis, but never of any tradition. As far as I can seen none of his own disciples or successors like Pitambar, Bhagavat Rasik, Biharin, Jamuna Das, etc., mention any succession.

On the other hand, Lalita Kisori Deva does make the connection, giving full descriptions of the Nimbarka acharyas, but he is already quite a way down the line historically. Yet, most of the vanis in the Haridasi line have nothing to say about these previous acharyas and there is little or no discussion or reverence for anyone prior to Swami Haridas.

The situation seems analogous to the Gaudiya sampradāya's relationship to the Madhva line.

In these and other cases, it appears that many of the 16th century charismatic founders did not feel the need to profess allegiance to any existing lines, but their descendants felt obliged at a later date to seek legitimacy by connecting to one or the other of the existing lines. This is the "four sampradāya doctrine." As far as I can see, though, this only became an issue in the late 17th or early 18th centuries.

In some cases, like the Radha-vallabhis, it seems that there was resistance: We don't need to belong to any succession because our founder received direct mercy from Radha. Interestingly enough, though, Hit Dasji (see articles) seems to have sought legitimacy for the Radha Vallabha sampradāya with some success. I think if you are around long enough, such criticisms of illegitimacy gradually fade away. Survival is the biggest key.

That thought also occurred to me yesterday when I heard Rangili Sharan Maharaj, a disciple of Kripalu, speak. Very nicely quoting Rādhā-sudhā-nidhi verses. Much as it may cause distress to see charismatic figures flaunt socially acceptable behaviors or accepted customs and traditions, if you can build a beautiful marble temple and have a few charismatic disciples, you can leave a legacy that in a century or two has "legitimacy" and must be dealt with as such.

And, to a great extent, there appears to be some justification for such an attitude. A century or two from now, some sincere follower of Kripalu with innocent faith and intense sadhana may become very advanced, irrespective of the evidence of dubious behaviors Kripaluji has bequeathed to future historians.

A similar example can be seen in the Mormon church in the USA. One of the main candidates for the Republican presidential candidacy nomination is a Mormon. Now the other "Christian" candidates are being asked whether he is a Christian. Such a question surely sticks in the craw of the Christians much in the same way as it does for a Gaudiya to accept the truth of Harivams's hagiographies, or for a Nimbarki to accept the independence of Swami Haridas. How can there be any truth when some lie is at the very root of the tradition?

On the other hand, how can anyone resist the push to religious relativism? Whatever you believe is valid, because [the implication goes] all religious beliefs are equally fantastic. Can a person living in glass houses throw stones at others? How can anyone objectively verify any claims of truth about the divinity of their chosen revelations? As soon as we do so, we are open to accusations of blind belief and fanaticism.

Today, everyone was praising Hit Dasji for "not having a sectarian bone in his body." Without realizing, of course, that he is the one that is the outsider who is served by such relativism. Once outsiders become insiders, however, it is no surprise if they show great enthusiasm for excluding others.

Just like the Gaudiyas, once they had managed to establish their credentials, dubious as they are, of adherence to the Madhva tradition, they became among the most enthusiastic proponents of the four sampradāya doctrine. The Ramanuja line, for instance, is pretty secure in their status as the oldest and perhaps most "legitimate" of the sampradāyas. They don't need any "four sampradāya doctrine."

It is certainly becoming harder and harder in the modern age, with the historical and information resources at hand, to claim legitimacy on the basis of tradition. Indeed, Weber is somewhat disparaging of it as "institutional charisma" or a purely bureaucratic legitimacy. Legitimacy based on spiritual gifts such as siddhis is more and more desired, especially in India, despite the pretty poor track record of self-appointed gurus with claims of special revelations or divine status.

I am personally in favor of honoring traditions, even when one expresses some original direction. But it seems that in general, historically, despite the strength of the guru doctrine in Hinduism, there has always been a greater tolerance for purely charismatic authority and traditions sink or swim on the basis of the legacy that such charismatic founders and their most gifted heirs leave.

The real debate should not really be in the legitimacy or an individual or a tradition, but in the effectiveness and cogency of doctrines and practices. But of course, traditions mean that there is a body of doctrines and practices with a proven track record. This gives them a strength and resilience that is difficult for newcomers to equal.

But I am mostly suspicious of those who lack gratitude, and I feel that it will ultimately infect their spiritual descendants for all time. This means that all paths are valid, but only up to a point. In the interests of truth, at some point one has, with all due respect, to move on.

Dana Lila in Fateh Krishna's Rasa at Jai Singh Ghera

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Wed, 14 Sep 2011 09:47:00 +0000

This post was on Vrindavan Today a while back, but I am adding it here because of the dana theme, which we are covering more or less exhaustively on this site. Without commentary here.

==========

Fateh Krishna Ji pays sashtanga pranams to the swaroops before the performance.

Vrindavan, 2011.08.13 (VT): Today was the last day of the Rasa Lila at Jai Singh Ghera. I have been coming down with a cold and there has been a certain amount of fatigue involved in producing this series, as shallow a presentation as it has been. Still, I am happy that my initiation into this Braj tradition was such a delightful one. My limitations in understanding the language were, at times, acute. Since humorous argument delivered rapid fire seems to be a staple of the Rasa Lila, these limitations were especially evident in plays like today's, the Dana Lila, in which such argument dominates.

The dāna-līlā is a subject I have some interest in, as I have been working on Dāna-keli-kaumudī for some time now. Here the difference is that Radha dresses up as a prince to exact tolls from the other gopis, but who are going this time with Krishna and Madhumangal who are also dressed as women themselves.

To be honest, I could not understand the rationale for such a switch other than just Radha's desire to enjoy things from the other side. Lalita tells Krishna what Radha has planned, and so the whole lila is conducted in full awareness of the role-playing. Radha the prince asks her sakhis to act as her ministers, but they are very well disguised, appearing for the most part like older men!

Radha the prince's courtiers and ministers begin (while Krishna is changing costume) by glorifying Vrishabhanu Nandini as the queen of Braj.

The opposing sides are ranged against each other.

In the next scene, Krishna and a file of gopis, including Madhumangal minus his moustache, dressed as a woman. Later we find out that her wares consist of govar kachoris. The two sides size each other up. On Radharani's side today is the actor who has been playing Madhumangal or Mansukh in about half the other plays. So basically we have two Madhumangals today. The "other" Madhumangal is one of the prince's courtiers. The two of them will duke it out as well as do a bit of wild dancing together.

Radha and Krishna tussling over his wares.

So basically, the two sides argue over what wares they have and how much they should be taxed. Radha tries to snatch Krishna's jug of butter, but Krishna won't let go. It turns into something of a dance.

The lila concludes with Krishna paying his taxes
by placing butter directly into Radha's mouth.

And of course, all's well that ends well. A bit of a strange pastime I have to admit, one that indicates that Radha and Krishna are fully conscious of role-playing at all times. Well, that concludes our series...almost. I will be adding an interview or conversation I had with Swami Fateh Krishna later on today.

Dana Lila in Barsana : Bhadra Shukla Trayodasi

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Wed, 14 Sep 2011 09:37:00 +0000

The dana-lila has so many manifestations. Here is another one that had passed me by. I posted this on Vrindavan Today today, crossposting here:

Women spectators crowded on the slope.

Barsana, 2011.09.14 (VT): The Radhastami celebrations at Barsana turn into a festival that lasts a week. On the Bhadra Trayodasi, which this year fell on September 10, people in Barsana run from door to door through the village with young boys on their shoulders. Dressed as Krishna and Radharani with her girlfriends, these young boys are given yogurt and sweets at each house.

This tradition is a part of the Sankari Khor pastime, which is all about Krishna stopping Radharani and her friends and asking them to pay taxes for their yogurt and other wares. It is also known as the burhi-lila festival,

It is reenacted every year in a very special way at the Sankari Khor site itself. The custom is said to have been inaugurated by Shri Narayan Bhatt, one of the 16th century stalwarts of Braja bhakti, the author of many books about Krishna lila and the Braja 84-kos parikrama.

Sankari means “narrow”. This narrow passageway is between the village of Chiksoli (Chitra) and the town of Barsana. The path becomes very narrow at this place, with the rock coming down sharply making a V. Sankari means “narrow, and khor “path”. This very narrow passage lies below Barsana, between Brahma Parvat and Vishnu Parvat. This path would separate Vilas Garh Hill from the main hill. It is so narrow that you can only walk down it by putting one foot in front of the other.

Sankari Khor on a quiet day. (Lake of Flowers photo)

The story is told as follows:

After milking the cows every day, the gopis would carry the milk on kamvars, or bamboo sticks with ropes attached to each end for carrying loads. They would take this route to cross from one side of the hills to the other.

Taking advantage of the narrow pathway, Krishna and his gopa friends would block the gopis' way and and demand milk, yogurt and butter as a toll tax from the gopis. If the gopis refused to give any tax, as they felt was their right, Krishna and his friends would forcibly plunder and eat their milk products. Krishna would sometimes break Radharaṇi’s milk pots when she would not pay the tax.

It is said that you can still see the marks of the broken pots embedded in the stone at the spot, which is called Dan Garh or Dan Ghati in commemoration of this pastime.

The gopis started to get fed up of these daily encounters and decided one day to retaliate. Under the leadership of Lalita, they decided that they would hide in the caves and dense kunjas on the hill on both sides of the narrow pathway. A few other gopis would cross Sankari Khor carrying pots of milk, yogurt and butter on their heads. The plan was that the moment Krishna and his sakhas tried to stop them to plunder their wares, the hidden gopis would come out from their ambush and teach Krishna and his sakhas a good lesson.

The next day, thousands and thousands of gopis divided into groups and hid themselves in the dense kunjas and large caves around Sankari Khor. Then, as usual, a few gopis placed pots of milk and yogurt on their heads and made their way through the narrow passageway.

Krishna, Madhumangal and the other sakhas obstructed their path and began their usual games. At once, the harassed gopis signalled the others who descended on the surprised boys. Five to ten girls caught hold of Krishna; another five to ten caught of Madhumangal, and other groups encrircles Subala, Arjuna, Lavanga and the other sakhas.

Dominating in numbers, they slapped the boys' cheeks until they were swollen. They tied the boys to the branches of the trees by the tuft of hair on the back of their heads and asked them, "What pleasure is there in plundering our yogurt? Will you ever do it again?"

Madhumangal folded his hands and prayed at the feet of Lalita. "Please spare me. I was very hungry. I am a simple brahmin boy who fell under the influence of that fickle Krishna. I shall never behave like this again."

Meanwhile Radhika, Vishakha and some other gopis had captured Krishna. They slapped his cheeks a few times and then made him dress in a blouse and skirt like a woman. They even put vermilion in the parting of his hair, bangles on his arms, anklets on his feet, and so on. They covered half his face with a veil, placed a pot of yogurt on his head and began to make fun of him by demanding tax on the yogurt.

From the top of the hill, Lalita Sakhi aimed a stone at the pot of yogurt on Krishna's head, breaking it and drenching his whole body. This is the source of the name mutki-phor, or breaking of the pot.

All the sakhis began to laugh and clap, and Shyama felt very ashamed. "Will you dare to demand tax on our yogurt ever again?" they asked. "Hold your ears and vow, 'From today, I will never try to tax the gopis' yogurt.'" They forced Krishna to repeat this.

Spectators making their way down the hill.

Gudda Baba recounts the way it was reenacted just a few days ago:

Brajabasi men from Barsana and Nandagram square off, sitting opposite each other and sing out this most intimate pastime of where Krishna would stop the gopis and steal their yogurt.

A boy playing Krishna stops another boy dressed as Radharaṇi, who tries to walk by carrying a pot. These boys are carried on the backs of two strong, sure-footed Brajabasis, who are able to scamper up the hill with ease to initiate this pastime.

What a spectacle as Kanai and Shri Ji’s representatives on each side chant wonderful bhajans in unison in glorification of their own ishtadeva. Each traditional bhajan has been passed down for the last 500 years, and you can perceive how much the present-day residents enjoy their own life-long heartfelt memorization of these songs.

First, a mahant from the Nandagram side sings a song in glorification the greatness and superiority of Krishna Kanhaiya, the mood being of tax time… ”Now pay up to the Lord of Vrindaban.”

Gosai from Nanda Gram taking Krishna's part.

Then the Barsana vasis would counter, correctly describing the superiority of Srimati Radharaṇi: “She is the queen of this forest, how dare you tax her?”

And so these loving arguments would go on, back and forth, taking the opposite sides of love.

Shri Ramesh Babaji Maharaja was seated in the center, silent, immersed in the internal bhava of the lila, while the others stand, chastise, defend, acting as external puppets of the Female or Male Supreme.

Ramesh Baba takes a turn, taking Radha's side, of course.

In between, the Brajavasi youth wearing sunglasses, chewing pan and sporting a comical demeanor as the "elders" performed the role play.

Behind on Vilas Garh Hill, the Brijbasi women watch the fun, dressed in a multicolored rainbow of saris, waving leaf fans and broken branches to counteract the heat of the day.

One cannot help but appreciate how this is the most powerful interactive lila where the participants become ‘extensions’ of the Deities. Such rasa, argument, and dominating conclusions, is a ‘true to life’ enactment of the Lord’ lila, an unforgettable cultural chisel on the heart of every observer.

Sources: Gudda Baba, Brij Discovery.

Pretty good video: You Tube of 2009 Sankari Khor pastimes.

Do I believe in Srila Prabhupada?

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Sun, 04 Sep 2011 21:32:00 +0000

A question I often get asked is, "Do you still believe in Srila Prabhupada?" Or some variation of this question. This was most recently asked by someone who had just read the article About Jagat, where I have tried to summarize the major events in my life.

This question often puts me off my guard a little, as I suspect that the questioner has a very naive understanding of guru-tattva or is out to entrap me by getting me to submit to a kind of loyalty test.

To make a succinct statement, I will just paraphrase what I wrote yesterday in my article Anti-intellectualism and Anti-Semitism join forces in the Krishna consciousness movement:

I have been out of ISKCON for more than 30 years and have developed a way of thinking that I see as being at least three steps removed from it as a result of my contacts with (1) traditional orthodox Gaudiya and rasika Vrindavan Vaishnavism; (2) with Sahajiya Vaishnavism; and (3) with the Western academic study of religion, all three of which have altered my understanding of spiritual life considerably. But none of these influences has altered my self-identification as a Vaishnava for which I pay my undying obeisance of gratitude to Srila Prabhupada.

Perhaps this will satisfy my questioner. But what does "believing in Srila Prabhupada" mean? Judging by the kinds of rigid ideas that some Prabhupadanugas have, you practically have to live in a mental straightjacket to "believe in Srila Prabhupada." And I once again point to the above article.

What I believe is that the gurus give us their ucchishta, their remnants. They set us on the road to discovery, but they can never answer all our questions. Most of the time, our questions don't come until long after they are gone.

For each disciple, according to their understanding, the guru's remnants are different. Just as on the guru's plate, there may be rice, chapati or sabji or something else remaining, so different disciples see a particular aspect of the guru's mission as being their own field of work, the area in which they can complete the work of the spiritual master.

This means that for some, who are actively inclined, the mission is to spread the message as they have received it, without any changes, without any question, and through the implicit faith that they have in the guru and the tradition, to bring Krishna consciousness to those who have never heard the message.

For others it may be an attempt to rigidify the guru's tradition and to be absolutely faithful to the letter of the guru's law.

For others, the goal might be to try to go deeper into understanding the message, into clarifying what is there, into validating logically and experientially the essence of the tradition and teaching.

For me, the guru's remnants has meant that we have to really find out the answers in this way – through combined study and practice -- in order to keep the tradition alive, to make it meaningful.

Therefore I feel that simply lip service to Srila Prabhupada becomes "idol worship" in the true sense. Everyone is held to a standard of faithfulness toward a figure from the past. People who can claim they were personal servants, or who have some "Prabhupada nectar" to tell, are exalted above all others.

Prabhupadanugas spend all their time knocking ISKCON for not following Prabhupada faithfully and spend all their time condemning innovations or for "thinking themselves to be equal to or better than Srila Prabhupada."

In my opinion, this is all idolatry and saps the very life out of Krishna consciousness. Krishna consciousness, as Bhaktivinoda Thakur said, is progressive. That means that as human understanding and experience expand, our understanding of religious and spiritual phenomena can also expand. We have more tools for understanding spirituality, mythology, ritual and religious practice today than we did a century or five centuries ago.

But this does not mean, as Bhaktivinoda Thakur so correctly pointed out, that we deny the legacy of the past. As Newton said, "If I saw far, it was because I stood on the shoulders of giants."

Somehow, our task is to combine the experience and insights of the past with the experiences and insights of the present. Putting old wine into new bottles means this. It means repackaging the essence of spiritual practice into terms that modern man can understand and find meaningful. Without this, faithfulness to a mythology or to a tradition becomes artificial and dry, an empty shell. Strangely enough, we end up with an old bottle and no wine.

We live in a different world from Chaitanya Mahaprabhu and Bhaktivinoda Thakur, and even from the world of the 60's when Srila Prabhupada started his teaching. We must recognize the particular world we live in and bring Krishna consciousness alive in that world.

You cannot simply promote escapism and denial of the world we live in. Mere promotion of a return to some imaginary "Vedic culture" is a pipe dream that has failed several times. Unless we reimagine these things according to modern sensibilities, there is no way that we can make Krishna consciousness real for the people of today.

But let me make it perfectly clear that Srila Prabhupada set into motion something that appears to be very powerful, and despite all the negative things that have happened, a wide variety of manifestations of the bhakti movement appear to be growing in many parts of the world. I recognize that all these manifestations have their value and purpose, even those I oppose.

So I am happy to be a part of this world-wide phenomenon and recognize with gratitude my debt to him as the original source of what has become my own life's central theme.

evaṁ janaṁ nipatitaṁ prabhavāhi-kūpe
kāmābhikāmam anu yaḥ prapatan prasaṅgāt |
kṛtvātmasāt surarṣiṇā bhagavan gṛhītaḥ
so’haṁ kathaṁ nu visṛje tava bhṛtya-sevām ||

I was fallen into the darkened well of material life, where I was engaged in seeking sense enjoyment after sense enjoyment in bad association. The rishi of the gods, Narada, took me, O Lord, and made me his own. So how could I ever abandon the service of your servant? (Prahlad to Nrisingha, 7.9.28)

Truly, everything I do is a service to Srila Prabhupada and not a day goes by when I do not remember him. And, as I tried to show in my "About Jagat" article, I also feel that everything that has happened to me since his departure, beginning with my going to Lalita Prasad Thakur, was also by his grace -- even when it appeared to be against his written or spoken instructions.

And though I believe in each manifestation of the guru that has appeared subsequently, it would be dishonest for me to deny the importance of the one who set me on the path that I still follow.

At the same time, all external gurus are manifestations of the internal guru. And, ultimately, it is that guru in the heart that we must "believe" in. It may be the hardest lesson of all that the caittya-guru trumps all manifestation of the external guru.

Anti-intellectualism and Anti-Semitism join forces in the Krishna consciousness movement

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Sun, 04 Sep 2011 11:39:00 +0000

Somehow, while surfing the Internet, I came across an article, ISKZION, which caused me some concern. The author asks questions about the preponderence of Jews in ISKCON leadership positions and speculates about the Vaishnava society and Jew-related conspiracy theories. The author even cites the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, a book that has passed into the annals of racist defamation as one of the most pernicious [and successful] examples of its kind; this is certainly the red flag of anti-Semitism par excellence.

Now, even though I myself am not of Jewish extraction, I would personally argue that since Jews are disproportionately represented in almost every field of merit... music, science, the arts and cinema, political commentary, finance, philosophy, etc... it would perhaps be more of a problem if Jews were underrepresented in ISKCON and Krishna consciousness. Since Jews seems to know a good thing when they see it, that would almost prove that they have no merit whatsoever!

And if Jews were truly engaged in a great conspiracy to infiltrate other religious organizations in their furtive quest for world domination, one would wonder why so few of them have risen to the upper echelons of Southern Baptism or the Jehovah's Witnesses, or indeed the Catholic Church. On the other hand, there appears to be no shortage of Jews in Buddhism, Yoga, New Religious Movements, or indeed, the Hare Krishna movement.

I personally do not know what Jews do to rise to positions of primacy and influence wherever they set their sights: Is it because they are "God's Chosen People," or because they have extraordinary intelligence, are better at networking, are ruthless power seekers, or possess magical powers that accrue to them through nefarious rituals? Or is it because they are part of a global conspiracy in association with extra-terrestrial forces? These are questions I am not equipped to answer.

Nevertheless, vaguely recalling that I had seen other stirrings of anti-Semitic thought in the Hare Krishna movement some years before, I did a quick Google check on "Jew Krishna" and "Jew ISKCON," and came across a couple of articles from the Sampradaya Sun from two years ago, which show a little more how such kinds of discourse arise in absurd contexts, revealing anti-Semitic biases that in all likelihood arise everywhere Jews rise to positions of disproportionate influence and power. And it is really this article that prompts me to write here.

Tamal Krishna Goswami

The first article, submitted by a certain Mukunda Das with a few introductory comments, is in fact the reprint of a paper ("Constructive Theologizing for Reform and Renewal") published by the now departed Tamal Krishna Goswami (Thomas G. Herzig) and Krishna Kshetra Das (Dr. Kenneth Valpey), which appeared in in The Hare Krishna Movement: The Postcharismatic Fate of a Religious Transplant (ed. Edwin Bryant and Maria Ekstrand, Columbia Press, 2004).

Mukunda Das's introductory comments contain the deliberate but entirely irrelevant mention of both authors' Jewish extraction. In response to a subsequent accusation of anti-Semitism, Mukunda Das makes his point much clearer, associating Judaism with a kind of scholarship that is he feels subverts the entire ISKCON movement and is furthermore offensive to Srila Prabhupada himself.

The issue is that when you analyze the movement’s development towards academia, liberalism, pluralism, corporatism, and impersonalism, you will find devotees who hail from a Jewish background. The real issue is that these [Jewish background devotees] JBD's are steering the movement into becoming a generic religion and using academia and interfaith ideologies to do so. These JBD’s don’t make public their papers and ideas, which are well guarded by the walls of academia and cries of Anti-Semitism by apologists and uneducated disciples and associates...

How many of our leaders who are JBD’s promote pluralism, academia, secular education, interfaith and liberalism? Then see if I am being Anti-Semitic, or am I being realistic. Diacritical theology is the main thrust of the various religious academic Institutions and interfaith dialogues. This form of theology demands an academic approach to scripture and its implementation. Diacritical theology, put simply, means that one must use one's intelligence to critically analyze scriptural text and the word of the guru or theologian.

And of course, he makes the familiar accusation, the argument ad hominem to end all arguments: "They think they know better than Srila Prabhupada."

At least here Mukunda says what it is that is bothering him. In the first article, he seems to expect everyone to understand immediately what he is getting at. His language is uncompromising and inflammatory, but in fact reveals not only his own ignorance, but the great intellectual poverty at the heart of ISKCON conservatism, which is perhaps the most serious problem it faces. He writes of Herzig and Valpey's article,

...this piece of literary dribble is nothing short of the most offensive material ever to be produced by an alleged ISKCON devotee. Every line in this material I found to be most offensive and depreciative to our Srila Prabhupada, even though they hide behind pseudo-academic word jugglery.

Dr. Kenneth Valpey

Mukunda derides the two authors for calling Prabhupada a "'charismatic' personality that used a top-down (vertical) authoritarian approach that did not allow any room for questioning or intelligent independent thought." The irony of this comment is that Mukunda then proceeds to insist on an authoritarian approach that does not allow for questioning or intelligent independent thought.

Part of Mukunda Das's criticism of Tamal's argument is yet another ad hominem argument, that he himself was "authoritarian" in his "rule" as an ISKCON guru, so what right does he have to criticize Srila Prabhupada for authoritarianism? Such comments are disingenuous at best. It seems that, if anything, Tamal Krishna's experience as a guru in ISKCON had opened his eyes to the disastrous nature of authoritarianism. He had been struck by the necessity of modernizing Krishna consciousness, and it is not unlikely that his own experiences playing the authoritarian cult leader had some influence on his perception of the way forward.

Now, to be honest, I personally don't care about what happens in ISKCON or what its leaders do. I have been out of that organization for more than 30 years and have developed a way of thinking that I see as being at least three steps removed from ISKCON through my contacts with (1) traditional orthodox Gaudiya and rasika Vrindavan Vaishnavism; (2) with Sahajiya Vaishnavism; and (3) with the Western academic study of religion, all three of which have altered my understanding of spiritual life considerably. But since none of these influences has altered my self-identification as a Vaishnava [for which I continue to pay my undying obeisance of gratitude to Srila Prabhupada], it is in the last capacity as an academic that I feel I must condemn Mukunda Das's slanderous and malicious articles with all my heart. In fact, the only meritorious thing he did was to publish Krishna Kshetra and Tamal Krishna Goswami's paper in full. And on rereading that paper, I have to say that I support entirely the exercise in which they were engaged.

I was actually quite sad at Tamal Krishna's untimely demise in 2002, as I saw in him a possibility for a rational revision of Krishna consciousness. At the very least, he was instituting a dialogue that recognized the evolutionary nature of all religion, what to speak of Vaishnavism. It is no accident that the two authors cite some of Bhaktivinoda Thakur's most liberal passages about the progressive nature of devotion, passages that most progressive devotees hold to their hearts as breaths of fresh air in the stifling enclosure of the current Krishna movement, and how they also condemn the conservative ISKCON position, represented by no less a hypocrite than Hridayananda Goswami, who after a too long sojourn in academia has himself apparently changed stripes to submit to the all-conquering rule of "diacritic theology."

The members of ISKCON, who live perpetually at the feet of Shrila Prabhupada, may speculate how Shrila Prabhupada’s statements are true, but they may not challenge his statements, or claim that they are false. This is precisely what it means to accept Shrila Prabhupada as the founder-acharya.

I have always sensed that the basic problem in the Ritvik camp or the other anti-ISKCON die-hard Prabhupada-as-he-is-don't-change-one-dot-or -iota arch conservatives that were spawned by Prabhupada's preaching is precisely their idolatry of Srila Prabhupada, their absolute conviction of his untouchable perfection in everything he did and said. Since this seems to be the teaching, the "guru-tattva," they are left with nothing but a dogmatic negative reflex to anything that calls anything he said or did into question. And like Mukunda Das here, they may pretend to have understood, use big words and accuse their opponents of "pseudo-academic word jugglery," while in fact they can do nothing better than fake it themselves.

And then, of course, the ultimate ad hominem, the suggestion of a Jewish conspiracy! So, the sum and substance of Mukunda's argument is a serious of ad hominem arguments meant to distract everyone from the substance of Tamal Krishna's paper and to whip up a frenzy against intellectuals, Tamal Krishna personally, and finally Jews, by accusing them all of being offenders to Srila Prabhupada. All red herrings meant to distract people away from the paper's content. Way to go, quite a feat.

At any rate, I will not go into any further discussion here, except to say that research along the lines suggested by Valpey and Herzig is the only long-term hope for the Krishna bhakti movement. I hope that all ISKCON devotees will read it carefully and consider seriously the implications of Tamal Krishna's intent here. Indeed, I hope that they will take up the challenge implicit in the paper to apply their intelligence to the study of Krishna consciousness, rather than simply parroting the words of the previous acharyas without deliberation.

Unless Krishna consciousness can be made meaningful to people of the modern world, it will never interest more than a small coterie of misfits, who will go on arguing about obscure points of guru-bhakti and dream of world domination and "10,000 years of world peace" with everyone prancing around like ISKCON devotees from the 1970's.

Henri Jolicoeur on some old-time ISKCON homosexuals

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Sun, 04 Sep 2011 10:03:00 +0000

There are many examples of the kind of Prabhupadanuga closed-mindedness and fanaticism that make me despair for the future of the Krishna consciousness movement. One especially good and consistent source of examples is provided by the Sampradaya Sun website, which never fails to find an opportunity to make a great display of its devotion to Srila Prabhupada at the cost of sensible rational thought. They can spend endless hours and spill countless gallons of ink discussing the flaws of the ISKCON gurus and the doctrine of the "Sampradaya acharya," but the territory no one dares to enter is that where Srila Prabhupada and his teachings are called into question.

In this respect I have two particular examples I would like to bring up; one is recent, the other two years old. I will discuss the recent on first, the second one afterwards, even though in terms of writing, the latter issue came to my attention first and was in the process of inspiring comment when the more recent incident came up.

Recently, a certain Jaya Narayan who is, I think, from Delhi, published a couple of articles on the Sampradaya Sun in which he posted videos by Henri Jolicoeur. Henri Jolicoeur, who is from Quebec, took sannyas from Srila Prabhupada in 1970 and was given the name Hanuman Swami. He was in ISKCON in the earliest days (pre-1970), and opened the Paris temple with Umapati. He was in India with Srila Prabhupada in 1971, but left the movement not long after his return to America. Subsequently, he became interested in psychotherapy, cults and brainwashing techniques, as well as meditation practices and so on. In particular, he has become a fan of the famous south Indian saint Raman Maharshi and is currently making a documentary film about him.

His interest in cult practices, the phenomenon of brainwashing, the cheating practices of gurus, etc., has led him to make several short videos in which he exposes Sathya Sai Baba, Nithyananda Paramahamsa and Kalki Bhagavan, not only for their claims to being avatars, but also for their unethical and sometimes predatory practices.

Little wonder, then, that his eyes should turn to some of the ISKCON gurus. The first was a 15-minute video on Gopal Krishna Goswami, which was greeted with elation on both the Sampradaya Sun and the Bangalore ISKCON website. But the second video, which discussed over three parts, four homosexuals and/or pedophiles was ultimately removed by the Sun, apparently because Mr. Jolicoeur called Prabhupada a "homophobe.".

[I wanted to give a link to the video but it appears that Mr. Jolicoeur has closed that You Tube account ("loveandpeace108"). I have asked him by email to explain what led him to make that decision and am awaiting his response.]

Rocana writes:

We won't repeat Hanuman's comments here, except to say that they are highly offensive, asiddhantic, and 100% wrong. For Jaya Narayana's part, he explained that he heard the term "homophobic", but didn't understand it to mean what it actually does mean today.
We encourage our readers to take great care when listening to the so-called 'preaching' or hypno-psycho teachings of Henri (Henry) Jolicoeur, Hanuman ex-swami, at least until such time as he recants his offensive remarks and offers a philosophical explanation as to how he made such a mistake.

Please note Rocana's approach, "We won't repeat...", we will only call them "offensive, asiddhantic and 100% wrong," He must "recant"! If I were Henri Jolicoeur, I would be highly amused by the typical cult mentality that produces such kind of response. He was beaten up by Nithyananda's followers in Tamil Nadu, so I expect that he knows such responses will be forthcoming.

In his video, of course, Jolicoeur has made his argument and so it is really up to Rocana and his friends to come up with a response to the challenge presented by them.

Mr. Jolicoeur's argument is simple: he knew these four men – Sudama, Kirtanananda, Bhavananda, and Umapati, all swamis – in the earliest days of the movement, between 1969 and 1971, and knew all of them to be homosexuals even then. Over their careers, they either in good faith tried to repress their homosexuality, or in bad faith took advantage of their situation in the movement to indulge it. In each case, he analyzes their sexual careers and comes to the conclusion that repression failed in each case, and that the "cures" of marriage and sannyasa did not help whatsoever.

Jolicoeur further says the philosophy presented by Srila Prabhupada has no place for homosexuality. Like many traditional systems of thought, homosexuality is considered to be "against nature" and the result of excessive and uncontrolled sex appetite. In other words, it is a moral disease that can only be cured by Krishna consciousness.

Here is what Jolicoeur wrote as an introduction to his video series:

As I visited various ISKCON temples over the past few years, I noticed many homosexuals and lesbians in the movement are still suppressing and hiding their sexual identities because being openly homosexual is a big no no in ISKCON.

The strange thing is that though Swami Bhaktivedanta was openly homophobic, at the same time he was surrounded from the very beginning by homosexuals like Kirtanananda, Hayagriva, Umapati, Bhavananda, Sudama, Omkara... on and on. Maybe he was extremely naive like a child, or maybe he wanted to "engage them," with the results that we now know: disaster.

A lusty brahmachary could not get married as a homosexual; the only way out for him was either sannyasa or a sham marriage (as in the cases of Sudama, Hayagriva, Umapati and Omkara), with the resultant suffering that it entailed for the women so sacrificed. In these circumstances, these men were forced to repress their sexual identity even more, creating a disastrous situation for themselves and the people under their charge. Some of them even had sex with their initiated disciples as in the recent case of Umapati.

Hopefully, the tragic stories of these four long time ISKCON homosexuals will help some members of ISKCON and all the Hare Krishna movement offshoots to be truthful to themselves about their sexual identity and not lose years of their lives trying to convince themselves that they are not gay.

The teaching that you are not the body but a soul is the basis of ISKCON's theology. But as long as you identify with this body and are not in a state of samadhi, you have to recognise that you are straight or gay or lesbian or trengender. These are facts recognized by all schools of modern psychology and medicine, and more and more by secular society, especially in the western world. For instance, New York just made marriage of gays and lesbian legal in June 2011.

There is no denying that Swami Bhaktivedanta was highly homophobic. I personally heard him make very negative remarks on the homosexual lifestyle on at least ten occasions. The idea that Swami Bhaktivedanta was perfect and that everything he said was perfect truth is, in my view, incorrect.
Some of his writings contain ideas left over from the dark ages. Moreover, he was also the product of 19th century Bengali society.

Was he so extremely naive that he could not see how so many homosexuals and lesbians were in his service? Or was he so merciful that he wanted to engage everyone in the service of Krishna including homosexuals and could not foresee the disasters of sexual abuse that his policy would create for adults, and especially for the Gurukula children?

The result was that pedophiles were even named among the original eleven successor gurus, with the consequences now known to everyone. At least two lifelong homosexual men, Kirtanananda and Bhavananda, were also pedophiles, which resulted in so many gurukula kids' lives being destroyed, some of them even committing suicide.

Now, though one may argue about what "homophobic" means, generally speaking this fits the accepted and current definition: "unreasoning fear of or antipathy toward homosexuals and homosexuality."

Now, the question here is this: Is there any evidence that Krishna consciousness has factually "cured" anyone of homosexuality? The fundamentalist Christians in America have been making a big deal of conversion therapy for years and the results are less than impressive and even the most favorable results are recognized as flawed by the one publishing them.

Ariel Shidlo and Michael Schroeder found in "Changing Sexual Orientation: A Consumer's Report", a peer-reviewed study of 150 respondents published in 2002, that 88% of participants failed to achieve a sustained change in their sexual behavior and 3% reported changing their orientation to heterosexual. The remainder reported either losing all sexual drive or attempting to remain celibate, with no change in attraction. Some of the participants who failed felt a sense of shame and had gone through conversion therapy programs for many years. Others who failed believed that therapy was worthwhile and valuable. Shidlo and Schroeder also reported that many respondents were harmed by the attempt to change. Of the 8 respondents (out of a sample of 202) who reported a change in sexual orientation, 7 worked as ex-gay counselors or group leaders. (Wikipedia)

Now if ISKCON gurus and leaders like Sudama, Umapati, Bhavananda and Kirtanananda failed to restrain their own sexual impulses even while preaching that Krishna consciousness is a higher taste that cures one of base desires, even the desire for sex itself, then what hope is there for other, lesser mortals?

Prabhupada was against sex itself, what to speak of homosexuality. But even then, Jolicoeur's question to Umapati at the end of his presentation is simply to ask, "Don't you think you should just face the fact that you are gay and live with a partner?"

I have known Umapati for 40 years. I was surprised to see that he has lost his status in ISKCON as a guru after being caught having sex with his male diciples. Umapati has been an active homosexual all his adult life, hiding his sexual identity in a homophobic society for 40 years, while repeating the same old homophobic quotes himself.

What a shame that he married a beautiful devotee in Paris, Ilavati, a wonderful woman that I myself introduced to Krishna consciousness. And then he cheated on her with men. This happened in New Vrindavan, and Kirtanananda's solution was first to give sannyasa to him, and then to his wife also. Umapati in turn gave sannyasa to the man who was to murder Sulochan and is now in jail serving a life sentence. Now that makes for a lot of lying and deceiving.

Umapati, if you read this, please stop playing games with other people's minds and hearts, and even more important, stop playing games with yourself. It won't be long before you are old and impotent, and soon after that you will be standing at death's door Stop the bullshit and seek the light -- listen to your heart.

So my point to Rocana, my dear old friend, is that Hanuman has given you his answer. It is not up to him to defend himself to you, but for you to speak up to the issue at hand. He is saying the homophobic agenda, indeed the anti-sex agenda, in ISKCON has failed. And the source of the anti-sex, anti-love agenda is Prabhupada. And the source of the denial and coverups is ultimately Prabhupada. And the fact that these men such as these continue to find shelter in ISKCON to perpetrate their hypocrisy ultimately has its root in Prabhupada.

That is for you to answer to, Rocana. You cannot get out of it by name calling, saying that Hanuman is "offensive, asiddhantic and 100% wrong" without making reasonable arguments showing how this is so.

But of course, this is nothing unusual for the Sampradaya Sun, as my next article will show.

Rasa Lila at Jai Singh Ghera

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Sun, 07 Aug 2011 08:12:00 +0000

I have to make a confession. In all these years, I have never yet sat through a Rasa-lila performance from beginning to end. This, for someone who pretends to love Vrindavan, is tantamount to criminal. At least misdemeanor! So today, I decided that I would correct this flaw in my experience as soon as I heard from Visakha Devi that Swami Fateh Krishna's Rasa Mandal, one of the best, would be performing at Jai Singh Ghera until the 13th. But be forewarned, the following comments are from someone who knows little of the art.

It is Jhulan in Vrindavan, or as some call it, "Shravan Mela." It is one of the biggest pilgrimage events in Vrindavan, ending on Jhulan Purnima. I made my way downtown, dodging cars, tongas, rickshaws and throngs of pedestrians, through Loi Bazaar, past Shahji temple and in the narrow alley leading to Jai Singh Ghera and Cheer Ghat, being careful to keep my glasses in my bag. Better to be blind and have an accident than have my glasses stolen yet again by those perfidious monkeys.

I was early, but the hall at Jai Singh Ghera was already full. I went past the dressing room and met with some of the actors, though I did not want to talk to them too much before their performance, though they seemed quite relaxed and happy to have their photos taken. I went and got myself a seat on the floor right near the stage and waited until Fateh Krishna came on stage.

The program began with the Divine Couple and the sakhis assembled on the stage. Fateh Krishnaji came and offered his reverent obeisances and then seemed to give the players a short pep talk. Then they proceeded to have a nitya-rasa and dancing the danda rasaka, a circle dance with sticks that originated in Gujarat and is now associated with the Rasa dance all across north India. This was followed by a kirtan, Govinda jaya jaya, while the players went and changed into other costumes or took a breather or both.

Shrivatsa Goswami gave a short talk, a lot about Tulasi Das, since his appearance day was yesterday, I suppose. But saying that Rama and Sita's pastimes in Chitrakut, during their exile in the forest, was the happiest time of their lives, so that they forgot everything about Ayodhya. It was to augment this experience that they came again in the form of Radha and Krishna.

Then started the performance proper. The theme was was the arrangement of Radha and Krishna's marriage. It begins at Sanket. While Fateh Krishnaji sings, Krishna is playing alone with a ball, throwing it back and forth to the audience, creating waves of pleasure. Shrivatsa Goswami fanned throughout the entire play, and Krishna even came and threw the ball to him a few times. Then in comes Radha, also alone, they meet... He likes her, they walk around a bit, talk; they fall in love.

Krishna tells her to come and see him in Nandagram. In the next scene she sets out accompanied by her sakhis, but it is a long way and one by one the other girls drop out. She arrives alone. Krishna greets her at the gate, but she is shy and Mother Yashoda has to finally go herself to invite her in. Yashoda makes all kinds of inquiries, gives her gifts, and makes it clear she likes her and wants her to marry Krishna.

Word comes to Kirti Devi and the big anxiety starts on that side. Isn't Krishna a thief? Is he worthy of Radha? So they call Protani, an old woman character who is [in this version of the lila] Madhumangal's mother. They have a vichara, and everyone discusses the good and bad of Radha marrying Krishna. Protani argues in favor of Krishna and everyone is convinced.

They decide to send a delegation led by Protani to Nandagram to say they are good with it. This is followed by the return trip to Barsana for the betrothal cermony (sagai) which is conducted with a great deal of fun and dancing.

It all ends with Radha and Krishna sitting on the throne. Shrivatsa Goswami performed arti. Then people from the audience come up to give their pranams and pranami to the swaroops.

Throughout it all, the singing of Fateh Krishna and the playing of the musicians was impeccable, completely professional and full of rasa. There was a lot of humor, indeed jokes related to Krishna and glorifications of his true nature were the main substance of the play. There was a lot of laughter and, though it is a cliche, it is clear that a good time was had by all.

I was amazed at how many people knew the songs. When the mike was on you could barely hear how they were responding, but sometimes the power would go off, and you would hear that half the audience was singing along. Sometimes Fateh Krishna (one or two occasions) would stop and let the audience fill in the last line of a verse, or word of a line.

It was a big audience. One thing I liked is they did not blast the sound out into the streets. And inside also it was not too loud. But the audience was so well behaved that even when the mikes went off you could hear the voices clearly, at least I could in the front.

He himself said that most of the songs were by Surdas or Chacha Vrindavan Das (a Radhavallabhi). From the tilak, I think that he also is a Radhavallabhi. The language of the songs and the dialogue of the actors was all in Braj, often spoken in verse or sung. This was admittedly a little hard for me to follow. Shrivatsa Goswami always speaks in a pure Brajbhasha, which is very nice and mostly comprehensible to a Hindi speaker. Fateh Krishna gave his explanations in Hindi, though.

I had some thoughts thinking that it would be better if they had girls. At first, the older boys seemed indifferent. Later, in some of the dancing scenes they were more animated. But Krishna himself was great. The boy was very beautiful to begin with and he had a truly magnetic smile. He was literally enchanting, Madan Mohan. Simple and innocent. He was really enjoying himself. He was younger than most of the other boys and I could see that made a difference. But the older boys were obviously experienced and knew their lines.

I wondered whether the tradition of only having boys playing the roles of girls will be maintained. The tradition no doubt grew out of a feeling that it was improper for girls to go on stage publicly and also to keep the lila pristine and free from any hint of mundane sexuality. But I couldn't help thinking that girls might just be better at it than boys. They would be more into it and would probably convey better the mood of other girls, i.e., gopis. If the taboo goes away, we might see someone trying it.

It is quite possible that as boys watch more and more of the popular media, they will feel more self conscious and begin to think its "lame" to play the part of a girl when girls themselves could do it. They will want to play heroes, demons or villains, etc., in the Bollywood or Hollywood mood. The question is one of preserving the innocent mood, which could be done by using younger girls, I think.

At any rate, this article is already longer than expected. It is only meant to be a description. I may say that I found it interesting to see how the Radha-Krishna lila has somehow morphed from the parakiya lila of the Bengalis into something totally different, where Radha and Krishna are married almost immediately and there is not the slightest hint of any other marriage or relationship. Especially since I have recently been exploring the songs of Chandi Das, and more recently looking at Tristan and Iseult, a medieval legend of illicit love from Europe.

Unfortunately, I was only able to take a few pictures before the battery went dead. I will try to give more in the next couple of days.

Romantic Love: Tristan and Iseult via Sunil Gangopadhyaya

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Sat, 06 Aug 2011 11:02:00 +0000

Just got off the train from Rishikesh, stopped at the FRRO in Mathura and made it back to the house feeling energetic. But the weather is quite different. Rishikesh has been rainy, and when not raining, overcast and cool even though humid. Here it is hot and humid, but no real signs of rain anywhere.

In Rishikesh I did a lot of reading, but really stopped all my productive activities just for that, with perhaps only the exception of two classes in the Bhagavad-gita (Here is one.)

I gave the two lectures mostly standing up, as though I was giving a talk on TED, or a Western style sales talk. It always comes out a bit rajasika. Can't give up my nature. I would love to be more sweet and charming. I would like to be more meditative, to create an atmosphere of calmness and love. The sadhu magic.

But overall I was quite happy with my two classes in Rishikesh. Yogis make good listeners. They know how to be still and attentive. That is why all the musicians usually like to give concerts there. The audience may be small, but they give honor to the artist.

***
It would be easy to juxtapose the three books that I read quite easily. One is Kunja Keli by Radha Baba, a couple of translated excerpts of which I have already published on-line. I am going through slowly, primarily to accumulate Hindi vocabulary and story-telling technique.

Lately I have been reading the Hindi and Bengali with a little more attention to the "how" it is said rather than the "what". I don't know why I have this mania about wanting to be able to tell these stories in Hindi or Bengali and to do it well. I doubt that I will ever be able to do so in these languages. I will always most likely try to replicate what I do in English and kind of mentally translate as I go. But still that is what I am thinking. It would be better if I could replicate this Hindi/Bengali/Sanskrit in English. But it always comes out like the Gita class recording. A lot depends on the audience, but you have to have the intention to do one thing rather than the other. Rasa rather than siddhanta.

I may have mentioned that it is one of my life’s ambitions to master Hindi and Bengali as a public speaker. Actually, my prayer is that I will one day be able to glorify Srimati Radharani effectively in these languages, as well as of course in English.

I may also have told the story that once I was told by a Bengali Goswami that I would NEVER master these languages in the way that native speakers have, and so in fact would never achieve my goals in the Indian languages. And so I should restrict myself to my own mother tongue and do the best I could in that. The only reason that I have this foolish attachment comes from a samskara that was rooted in me already at the time of my Iskcon days, when I heard Srila Prabhupada say or write that his guru, Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati once said that people from all over the world would learn Bengali just to relish the Chaitanya Charitamrita. And, indeed, Chaitanya Charitamrita is still my “desert island” book because it really seems to have everything.

Well, dreams are to be aspired to. This ambition has not been fulfilled as Radharani has so far deemed that no one should hear her glories from me, except in this empty, stabbing into cyberspace manner. But no matter, in this life or the next, I stick to the ambition. And, as a second best, talk about other aspects of spiritual life, too. What I like about Radha Baba is his minutia, his detailed description. In some ways, it is not really so different from Govinda-lilamrita, though he has imagined a great deal of original lila, but it is in his descriptions of the tiny things that I am trying to make some headway.

One way it does differ is in its deliberate avoidance of all erotica. To the extent that Radha and Krishna’s love is nearly all words and glances. I may have more to say about that later.

***
I will definitely have more to say about C.S. Lewis’ Four Loves which I have read several times now and which I have begun diaries on this site on more than one occasion. Indeed, a blog will come out of it, but I want to read it yet again. Lewis divides “love” into four basic types, affection, friendship, eros and caritas. The last could be called “love of God.” His basic premise is that all love is good, until it becomes a “god” in itself at which time it turns into a “demon.” “God is love” is a true statement, but for Lewis, “Love is God” is erroneous. He quotes Thomas à Kempis, who said “The highest does not stand without the lowest,” in order to validate all the natural loves, including eros, but without being informed by a Divine Love (charity) they all induce one into error. The book is dense with interesting insights and wide-ranging literary references that are worthy of deeper discussion. I feel once again that it definitely sheds light on the subject which interests me and so I shall return to it sooner rather than later.

***
For a change of taste, I started reading a Bengali book, which I enjoyed. It is Sunil Gangopadhyaya’s (Bengali) Sonālī Duḥkha, which is his own original version of the medieval romantic classic, Tristan and Isolde. Gangopadhyaya is one of Bengal’s leading novelists and authors. This novella first appeared in 1965 and I dare say helped make his reputation. Gangopadhyaya is a pleasant writer, fluid and simple (prāñjala) and a good story-teller. Near the end of the book, he makes himself out to be a romantic when he gives a little self-identification, or one who believes that love is more than knowledge.

He has also done a rewrite of the Radha-Krishna story, which will eventually merit a review on these pages, especially since I have now finished going through Chandi Das’s Śrī-kṛṣṇa-kīrtana.

Gangopadhyaya researched several versions of the story with the help of Marguerite Mathieu in order to come up with his own version. But it was fortuitous that I read it, since Lewis himself brushes past Tristan and Iseult as examples of romantic love. In a brief comment at the end of the book, he remarks on one point of similarity between this story and Radha-Krishna (as told by Chandi Das), in that the beloved in each of these cases of illicit love is the wife of the hero’s maternal uncle. I don’t think too much should be made of that point of intersection, but the power of the parakīyā mood and the inherent tragedy of that illicitness run through both stories when told in their unabridged forms. There is no reason to think that the medieval mind was not predisposed to tragedy, especially where the ideas of natural love and its power to create disruption in friendship, society and one’s own personal life seem overwhelming. Gangopadhyaya summarizes, “There is no life without love, but there is no love without unhappiness.”

It has been a long time since I read the story of Tristan and Iseult through, and I think the one I read was a turgid translation of the old French or whatever language the original is in. I don't recall enjoying it, for all that it is one of the most famous love stories of all time. This one is also written in the spirit of a bard speaking to a courtly audience of nobles and kings.

Tristan and Iseult has all the required elements: A hero who defies the odds, noble, demon and dragon slayer, loyal to his uncle, King Mark. Iseult is the niece of the demon he killed to save his uncle’s kingdom, but he comes and wins her not for himself, but for his childless uncle. The plot thickens when the love potion that was intended for Iseult and the king is mistakenly drunk by her and Tristan. But the potion has done its magic and the two are now destined to remain helplessly and tragically in love for the rest of their days. She still has to marry the king, but the two lovers carry on with their affair until finally they are caught and the angry king decides to burn the two of them at the stake.

The two escape into the forest and live a primitive life of exile, with more than one reminder of that portion the Ramayana--including a golden deer that Iseult asks Tristan to capture for her. After being frustrated in that effort, Tristan returns unwell and falls asleep with his sword beside him. When Iseult also rests, they have the sword between them. It is in this state of deep sleep that they are discovered by the king, who almost kills them then and there, but seeing their chaste posture has a change of heart and exchanges his sword for Tristan's and his ring for Iseult's.

They have been wandering in the forest together, expelled from the king's court and fugitives, suffering poverty and ostracism and the ever present danger of death, and finally they come to a big decision for each other's sake. Tristan sees Iseult suffering in poverty and thinks, "She was meant to be a queen and not live a life like this," so he takes this opportunity to brings her back to King Mark and ask him to forgive her. The lovers make some pretense that everything had been purely platonic and that any accusations of an erotic relationship were false. Iseult also thinks something similar about Tristan, that he was meant for glory and this notoriety would ruin his life. King Mark does choose to accept Iseult, but Tristan is obliged to go into permanent exile.

Of course, they could have gone to another country, even returning to the land of his birth where he would have been accepted with open arms, but somehow that idea did not get any play. So, it is like they decided to make things more miserable for themselves. It might even be said that they had an attack of faintness of heart, a lack of faith in their "religion of love", where love itself stands even beyond loyalties and religious principles.

Here again there is an incident that reminds us of the Ramayana. The people ask Mark to make Iseult undergo an ordeal fire to verify her chastity. By a small trick, she passes the test and is accepted again as the queen of Cornwall. The fires of love, however, do not stop burning in their separation.

Tristan wanders the world in a kind of miasma of hopeless loss, doomed to unhappy heroism, ever pining for Iseult, suspicious that she has found contentment without him. Finally, after one heroic adventure, he marries a princess somewhat against his will. He lives with this princess (also named Iseult) chastely, never even touching her. Though his wife loves him, she finds his behavior strange and even insulting.

One day, Tristan is pierced by a poison sword. He becomes progressively ill and finally tells his friend and brother-in-law to bring Iseult as she is the only one who can possibly cure him. As he does so, he recounts the entire story of his love to his brother-in-law. Since it will take a fortnight for him to return and Tristan will be hanging onto life by a thread, he asks him to signal from afar by showing either a white or black sail to indicate whether or not Iseult has returned with him.

Meanwhile, Tristan's wife is eavesdropping and mortified and enraged to hear that Tristan loves someone else. When the time comes, she spitefully lies about the color of the sail to Tristan who then gives up all hope and dies. When Iseult arrives shortly afterward, she falls into her lover's arms and dies along with him.

The parakiya rasa elements are of course interesting, the blameless innocence -- love is the result of an accidental drinking of a potion, and though the two are perfect for each other, it makes both of them overcome their commitments, their loyalties, their honor, etc., for the sake of love.

So Tristan and Iseult's story ends with their tragic death in each other's arms. Was such a tragic end necessary? The story is often seen as the origin of the romantic ideal in European culture. A "religion of love" where love is God, not God love. And this is what C.S. Lewis is arguing against. You can't make Love the God without having the sense that it is God that is Love, not the other way around. This is the idolization of Eros. Perhaps the medieval authors of all societies, whether European, Indian or Arab, could not tell their stories of love without giving them tragic overtones, without at once stressing the power of love as stronger than any social restraint, and yet doomed to being crushed by the weight of religion, society and obligation.

In Chandidas, Radha is so in love with Krishna at the end, but you still have to wonder, how could a comparable situation have been resolved in the real life context of medieval Bengal? How could Radha and Krishna have possibly come together? In Gopala-campu, Jiva Goswami has to invent an elaborate event in which goddesses descend to announce the truth: that the gopas were never married to real women, and that they had never touched them, and that they were in truth always destined to be Krishna's wives. Since they were non-envious, Krishna was left free to marry Radha and the rest.

Chandidas himself downplays the impossibility of it all. Like Tristan and Iseult, the only possibility would be in running away, going to some other country like the woman Maitreyi talks about in her book (Na hanyate), a relative who dumped her husband and ran off with a man she loved, creating a new life in some other part of India. It can be done if you want. Omnia vincit amor! But all these authors seem to be somewhat ambivalent about their religion of love, which only ends in death and the misery of separation.

Lewis talks about a middle way between the “debunkers” of the natural loves and their idolaters. He places himself against the 19th century romantics who put love on a pedestal as a part of their “nature religion,” but at the same time he has no place for the Stoics and others who would harden their hearts to all human relations. For him, since there is "no higher without the lower" the glory of erotic love can be fulfilled if it is harmonized with the Divine Love, but on its own it is doomed. So we will have to discuss Lewis in more depth, which I shall do shortly.

Chanting Sanskrit Verses

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Thu, 21 Jul 2011 12:42:00 +0000

Chanting Sanskrit Metres in Gaudiya Vaishnavism

After a long hiatus, and having to make a completely new recording at the Swami Rama Sadhaka Grama recording studio, there is finally a copy of Chanting Sanskrit Metres in Gaudiya Vaishnavism to be had on line, freely downloadable at Dropbox.

The text which accompanies the recording is being given here for convenience's sake. There may be some differences between this document and the recording, but for the most part it will be the same. Jai Radhe, Jagat.

====================

Mangalacharan

om
ajñāna-timirāndhasya jñānāñjanā-śalākayā
cakṣur unmīlitaṁ yena tasmai śrī-gurave namaH

nāma-śreṣṭhaṁ manum api śacī-putram atra svarūpaṁ
rūpaṁ tasyāgrajam uru-purim māthurīṁ goṣṭha-vāṭīm
rādhā-kuṇḍaṁ giri-varam aho rādhikā-mādhavāśāṁ
prāpto yasya prathita-kṛpayā śrī-guruṁ taṁ nato’smi

I bow my head again and again to the holy preceptor, through whose most celebrated mercy I have received the best of all names, the initiation mantra, Sri Sachinandan Mahaprabhu, Svarupa, Rupa and his older brother Sanatan, the extensive dominions of Mathurapuri, a dwelling place in the pasturing grounds [of Krishna], Radha Kund, the chief of all mountains, Sri Govardhan, and most pointedly of all, the hope of attaining the lotus feet of Sri Radha Madhava.

Introduction

One of the things that attracts many people to Indian religion and to Vaishnavism in particular is the beauty of the Sanskrit language. One of the most attractive features of Sanskrit is its verse. The complex Sanskrit metres have a majestic sonority that is unmatched in any other language. A Sanskrit verse properly chanted seems to carry an authority that confirms and supports its meaning. In this little article I am going to discuss some features of Sanskrit prosody so that students and devotees can learn how to pronounce and chant Sanskrit verses in the proper manner.

We will start by reviewing Sanskrit pronunciation. Then we will discuss some of the rules of prosody. The word “prosody” means the study of metrical composition, that is to say, the rules for creating verse. Sanskrit verses are written according to strict rules and we will learn some of these rules in this class. Next we will go over the rules for a number of different types of the most popular metre. I will give examples and also tell you where you can find other examples of the same metre in the shastras such as the Bhagavad Gita, Srimad Bhagavatam and the writings of the Six Goswamis.

For help with Sanskrit pronunciation see the Sanskrit pronunciation guide.

Sanskrit verse is written on the basis of long and short syllables. In Sanskrit these are called guru (heavy) and laghu (light). English metres are based on accented syllables, but classical Sanskrit does not have accents like English. Nevertheless, the idea of heavier and lighter syllables can be seen as something similar to accented and unaccented syllables.

Generally, each verse should contain four lines of a predetermined number of syllables, in which the long and short syllables have a fixed order. So, for example, in order to write a Sanskrit verse in the metre known as mālinī, we must start with six short syllables followed by two longs, then another long, followed by short-long-long, short-long-long. So our first job is to learn to distinguish between long and short syllables, otherwise we won’t ever be able to properly pronounce or chant a Sanskrit verse.

Now, how can we distinguish between long and short syllables? In Sanskrit there are only five short vowels: a, i, u, ṛ and ḷ. So in the word ṛṣi, we have two short syllables. All the other vowels—ā, ī, ū, ṝ, e, ai, o, au—are considered to be long. Thus, the word rādhā contains two long syllables, rā-dhā. So, if we wish to correctly pronounce Sanskrit verse, we must be very careful to clearly make a difference between short vowel sounds and long ones. This is especially important for Westerners who are reading transliterated texts to remember.

If a vowel has no macron or line over it, then it is a short vowel and should be pronounced in that way. Exaggerate the shortness and length of the vowels. The distinction must be made clear. Now, this is especially true of the first Sanskrit vowel, a. Westerners who see this letter have a tendency to pronounce it ā. The correct pronunciation is like the “u” as in “sun.”

So in the following verse by Raghunath Das Goswami from Vilāpa-kusumāñjalī (14), written in the previously mentioned mālinī metre,

yad-avadhi mama kācin mañjarī rūpa-pūrvā
vraja-bhuvi bata netra-dvandva-dīptiṁ cakāra
tad-avadhi tava vṛndāraṇya-rājñi prakāmaṁ
caraṇa-kamala-lākṣā-sandidṛkṣā mamābhūt

O Queen of Vrindavan! Ever since a certain manjari named Rupa anointed my eyes with light here in the land of Braj, a deep desire has arisen within me to see the crimson of your lotus feet.

Here each line begins with six short syllables, ya-da-va-dhi ma-ma; vra-ja-bhu-vi-ba-ta, and so on. The whole charm of this verse depends on the correct pronunciation of these six short syllables. If I butcher the pronunciation by pronouncing them all long, yā-dā-vā-dhi mā-mā, or even worse mixing long and short sounds where only the one or the other is called for, the effect is lost.

Now that this is clear, we have something else to learn about long and short syllables. If the vowel is long, it is clear that the syllable is long. However, if a short vowel is followed by a conjunct consonant, it is also considered to be a long syllable for the purposes of prosody. Thus in the word kṛ-ṣna, though the syllable kṛ on its own would normally be considered short, because it is followed by the conjunct consonant ṣna, that is to say, the consonants ṣ and ṇa joined together, the previous short syllable kṛ is considered to be long. In the verse just cited from Vilāpa-kusumāñjali:

yad avadhi mama kācin mañjarī rūpa-pūrvā
vraja-bhuvi bata netra-dvandva-dīptiṁ cakāra

There are a number of examples of this: kācin, netra-dvandva. Short vowels followed by a visarga (the h with a dot under it) and anusvāra (the m with a dot over it, or sometimes under it) are also considered long. Remember that the ten aspirated consonants, kha, gha, cha, jha, ṭha, ḍha, tha, dha, pha, bha are not conjunct consonants, but are simple.

So that is the first important thing to learn: distinguish between your long and short consonants. Exaggerate the length of your long vowels, though you do not have to exaggerate the length of the vowel sound preceding a conjunct consonant. The existence of the extra consonant sound will automatically lengthen the syllable without your having to make any extra effort.

Caesura

Now, the next important thing to learn about in Sanskrit verse is the caesura. Caesura or hiatus, known as yati in Sanskrit, is the natural pause which occurs within a line of poetry. Thus, in a line of eight syllables, you might have a caesura or pause after four syllables. In such short verses there is some irregularity and this pause is not so important. In general, the longer the metre, the more fixed and regular the caesura.

For example, in longer verses such as śardūla-vikrīḍita, which has nineteen syllables to the line, the caesura is especially important. If you stop after five, or ten syllables rather than at the officially prescribed pause after twelve syllables, your recitation will sound choppy and confused. As an example, we will refer once more to the verse from Vilāpa-kusumāñjalī:

yad avadhi mama kācin /
mañjarī rūpa-pūrvā

Here we have fifteen syllables with a caesura after eight. Another example: Take a look at the verse by Raghunath Das from Muktā-carita that was given in the mangalacharana:

nāma śreṣṭhaṁ /
manum api śacī /
putram atra svarūpam

This verse is written in the mandākrāntā metre, which means that it has seventeen syllables to the line, with two caesurae: the first after four syllables, the second after another six. Note that the word śacī-putram, “son of Sachi,” is a compound word, but that the caesura comes in the middle of it.

It is rarer that a single word like śacī or suta on its own will be split by the caesura (śa-cī, su-ta). That is considered pretty bad form. On the other hand, splitting a compound word like śacī-suta is much more common, so watch for that kind of thing.

The second line of the verse also has a permissible irregularity which should be watched for:

rūpaṁ tasyāgrajam uru-puriṁ māthurīṁ goṣṭha-vāṭīm

The words rūpaṁ tasya agrajam have been combined in sandhi and the first letter of agrajam has been joined with the last a of tasya. This is quite permissible, though some poets think that it is not the best style. Some would even consider this to be decadent versification. The Goswamis do it fairly often. However, if you know how to count syllables and recognize where your caesura is supposed to be, you won’t get thrown off by it.

In the older metres, anuṣṭubh, triṣṭubh and jagatī, to which we will be directing our attention shortly, there is some tendency for the caesura to be irregular, even within the same verse. In some other metres also, there may be differences in the way particular authors treat the caesura, though in the longer, more classical meters, they will usually be more consistent than they are in the first few types of metre with which we will be dealing.

As a general rule, it may be said, that there will be a natural pause following a certain number of syllables in each line of the verse. It will usually come at the end of a word and except for a few metres which you are not likely to encounter in standard works, nearly always on a long syllable.

1. anuṣṭubh

Now we can start with some examples of major types of metre. We will begin with the older metres which are the most common in the Puranas and the Mahabharata. Remember that the caesuras in these metres might be irregular. In fact, because these are shorter metres, it might be said that the caesura is less important. So don’t get upset if there appears to be little regularity with anuṣṭubh, triṣṭubh and jagatī.

The first metre we will look at is called anuṣṭubh. It is also known as zloka. Now you may have heard the word śloka being used in connection with any Sanskrit verse; that is not entirely incorrect, but the original meaning is a type of verse which has four lines of eight syllables each.

We find anuṣṭubh verses everywhere. It is one of the most liberal types of metre in its formation and therefore one of the easiest to write. The writer of the anuṣṭubh verse is not obliged to determine the length of every syllable. The first four syllables of each line are totally irregular. The next four syllables have to be either short-long-long-(optional/long) in the first and third lines and short-long-short-(optional/long) in the second and fourth lines. The caesura in the verse is not very important. In this, as well as in triṣṭubh and jagatī, which we will come to presently, the last syllable in a line is often short; even so, it is always counted as a long. So,

dharmakṣetre kurukṣetre
samavetā yuyutsavaḥ
māmakāḥ pāṇḍavāś caiva
kim akurvata sañjaya

long, long, long, long, caesura, short, long, long, long
short, short, long, long, caesura, short, long, short, long.
long, short, long; caesura (after 3 this time); long, short, long, long, short;
short, short, long, short, short. long, short, short.

This is the most familiar of all metres and the easiest to chant. You make the least mistakes chanting precisely because the length of the syllables is not relevant for a great part of each line and the caesura is not important.

So we will chant some verses from canto 1, chapter 2, Srimad-Bhagavatam:

nārāyaṇaṁ namaskṛtya naraṁ caiva narottamam
devīṁ sarasvatīṁ vyāsaṁ tato jayam udīrayet
munayaḥ sādhu pṛṣṭho 'haṁ bhavadbhir loka-maṅgalam
yat kṛtaḥ kṛṣṇa-sampraśno yenātmā suprasīdati
sa vai puṁsāṁ paro dharmo yato bhaktir adhokṣaje
ahaituky apratihatā yayātmā samprasīdati
vāsudeve bhagavati bhakti-yogaḥ prayojitaḥ
janayaty āśu vairāgyaṁ jñānaṁ ca yad ahaitukam
dharmaḥ svanuṣṭhitaḥ puṁsāṁ viṣvaksena-kathāsu yaḥ
notpādayed yadi ratiṁ śrama eva hi kevalam

(2) triṣṭubh

The next kind of verse is called triṣṭubh. Triṣṭubh verses contain eleven syllables to the line. Though not as common as the anuṣṭubh, they are sprinkled throughout the Bhagavad Gita, Mahabharata and of course in the Bhagavata Purana. This metre is found in a primitive and somewhat irregular form in the Ṛg-Veda, the Upanishads, the Brahmanas, etc.

(i) indravajrā and upendravajrā

There are different kinds of of triṣṭubh. The most common of these are indravajrā and upendravajrā. The only difference between these two is that the first syllable is long in the one and short in the other, so the distinction is not particularly important. Most authors like to mix these two metres in one kind of verse which are then called upajāti; that is why we are treating them together here. The metre is thus (first syllable optionally short or long), long, short, long, long, short, short, long, short, long, long.

For devotees, the most familiar verses in this metre in the Gaudiya Vaishnava tradition are found in Vishwanath Chakravarti’s Gurvaṣṭaka. Many of the verses in this hymn are pure indravajrā, each line beginning with a long syllable, but others in the same aṣṭaka are upajāti, such as nikuñja-yūno rati-keli-siddhyai, which starts with a short. It does not make much difference.

Caesura in this metre is somewhat irregular, usually 5/6, but might be 4/7 or 6/5 and sometimes mixed. In Gurvaṣṭaka we find a regular caesura after five syllables even though it splits words in two. saṁsāra-dāvā nala-līḍha-loka- 5/6 trāṇāya-kāruṇya-ghanāghanatvam 6/5 prāptasya kalyāṇa-guṇārṇavasya 6/5 vande guroḥ śrī caraṇāravindam 5/6

In Bhagavad Gita 2.26, the caesura comes after six syllables. This is an exception, because the last syllable before yati is short:

vāsāṁsi jīrṇāni yathā vihāya
navāni gṛhṇāti naro 'parāṇi.
tathā śarīrāṇi vihāya jīrṇāny
anyāni saṁyāti navāni dehī

Most of the eleventh chapter, “The Universal Form', is written in an upajāti metre which also includes some elements of another meter called śālinī.

tvam eva mātā ca pitā tvam eva
tvam eva bandhuś ca sakhā tvam eva
tvam eva vidyā draviṇaṁ tvam eva
tvam eva sarvaṁ mama devadeva

kālo ‘smi loka-kṣaya-kṛt pravṛddho
lokān samāhartum iha pravṛttaḥ
ṛte'pi tvāṁ na bhaviṣyanti sarve
ye 'vasthitāḥ pratyanikeṣu yodhāḥ

tasmāt tvam uttiṣṭha yaśo labhasva
jitvā śatrūn bhuṅkṣva rājyaṁ samṛddham
mayaivete nihatāḥ pūrvam eva
nimitta-mātraṁ bhava savyasācin

droṇaṁ ca bhīṣmaṁ ca jayadrathaṁ ca
karṇaṁ tathānyān api yodhavīrān
mayā hatāṁs tān jahi mā vyatiṣṭhā
yudhyasva jetāsi raṇe sapatnān

If you chant indravajrā and upendravajrā verses regularly, you will observe that the caesura is not as important as it will be in the metres of fourteen syllables and more.

(ii) svāgatā and rathoddhatā

There are a number of other kinds of triṣṭubh metres, of which I will give some examples here. svāgatā and rathoddhatā are sister metres. The caesura usually comes after three syllables in these metres, but occasionally after the fourth or the fifth. The first few verses of the 35th chapter of BhP’s tenth canto, known as yugala-gīta are written in svāgatā with caesura after four or five syllables. By the way, the reason that this chapter has this name is because the verses are written in pairs (yugala).

vāma-bāhu-dhṛta-vāma-kapola
valgita-bhrur adharārpita-veṇum
komalāṅgulibhir āśrita-mārgaṁ
gopya īrayati yatra mukundaḥ

vyoma-yāna-vanitāḥ saha siddhair
vismitās tad upadhārya salajjāḥ
kāma-mārgaṇa-samarpita-cittāḥ
kaśmalaṁ yayur apasmṛta-nīvyaḥ

Once again, if you want a consistent caesura, you have to split the words. So it is not so important as in other, longer metres.

(iii) rājahaṁsī

This particular variety of triṣṭubh is has a more regular caesura after six syllables.
Short-short-short, long-short-long long-short-long-short-long

This metre is most noticeably found in the Gopī-gīta, chapter 31 of the rāsa-līlā. It is thus often called indirā.

jayati te’dhikam janmanā vrajaḥ
śrayata indirā śaśvad atra hi
dayita dṛśyatāṁ dikṣu tāvakās
tvayi dhṛtāsavās tvāṁ vicinvate

śarad-udāśaye sādhu-jāta-sat-
sarasijodara-śrī-muṣā dṛśā
suratanātha te śulka-dāsikāḥ
varada nighnato neha kiṁ vadhaḥ

(3) Jagatī Metres. (12 syllables)

The third and last of the primitive Sanskrit metres, by which I mean ones which can be found in very early Sanskrit literature, including the Veda, is called jagatī. This metre has 12 syllables to a line and the caesura can come after 5, 6 or 7 syllables. The primary type of jagatī is an upajāti like that of the triṣṭubh which we have just explained, where the first syllable can be either long or short. So the metre is:
short-long short-long long-short-short-long short-long short-long

with the first syllable optionally long. Much of the Brahma-stava (10.14) is in this metre. The gopis» lament to the creator god or fate (vidhātā), when Akrura comes to take Krishna and Balaram away to Mathura in BhP x.39.19-30, is in this metre.

aho vidhātas tava na kvacid dayā
saṁyojya maitryā praṇayeṇa dehinaḥ
tāṁś cākṛtārthān vinuyaṅkṣy apārthakaṁ
vikrīḍitaṁ te’rbhaka-ceṣṭitaṁ yathā

yas tvaṁ pradarśyāsita-kuntalāvṛtaṁ
mukunda-vaktraṁ sukapolam unnasam
śokāpanoda-smita-keśa-sundaraṁ
karoṣi pārokṣyam asādhu te kṛtam

There are a large number of other jagatī metres. The only one worth mentioning here is druta-vilambita. The most famous example of this metre, which is fairly popular, is in BhP 1.1.3. Caesura is usually prescribed after four, but in this example comes after seven.

nigama-kalpa-taror galitaṁ phalam
śuka-mukhād amṛta-drava-saṁyutam
pibata bhāgavataṁ rasam ālayam
muhur aho rasikā bhuvi bhāvukāḥ

The ripened fruit of the Vedic desire tree made sweeter by the nectar from the mouth of Shuka; this is the Bhagavatam; oh connaisseurs of poetry, oh knowers of the sentiments, drink its juice constantly until the end on your time on this earth.

(4) Vasanta-tilakā

There are a number of thirteen syllabled metres, but I have not found any examples in BhP. One fourteen syllabled metre is very popular throughout Sanskrit kāvya, and is also found frequently in the Srimad-Bhagavatam, especially in the chapters dealing with madhura-rasa. It is called vasanta-tilakā, which means the “the ornament of spring.” From this point on, caesura is much more regular than in the first few examples that have been given. In vasantā, natural caesura after eight syllables is held consistently by all poets.

long-long-short-long short-short-short long
short short long short long long.

dA-dA-da-dA da-da-da-dA
da-da-dA da-dA-dA

Examples are the first madhura-rasa verses in the tenth canto, the pūrva-rāga (x.15.42-43), as well as the veṇu-gīta (x.21.7-19). In rāsa-līlā, the appeal of the gopis to Krishna not to reject them (x.29.31-41) and a few other verses including the last of the rāsa-līlā (x.33.40):

vikrīḍitaṁ vraja-vadhūbhir idaṁ ca viṣṇoḥ
śraddhānvito 'nuśṛṇuyād atha varṇayed vā
bhaktiṁ parām bhagavati pratilabhya kāmaṁ
hṛd-rogam āśv apahinoty acireṇa dhīraḥ

Note that the words apahinoty acireṇa are enjambed on the caesura. Because of sandhi, the ty at the end of apahinoti is read with the following a as a part of acireṇa: hṛd-rogam āśv apahinoty acireṇa dhīraḥ.

Uddhava’s glorification of the gopis (x.47.58-62), RukminI’s letter to Krishna (BhP x.52.37-43), two famous verses in the meeting at Kurukshetra (x.82.40 and CC Antya 4.153) and (x.82.49, CC Madhya 1.81 and 13.136), which we will chant here:

āhuś ca te nalina-nābha padāravindaṁ
yogeśvarair hṛdi vicintyam agādha-bodhaiḥ
saṁsāra-kūpa-patitoddharaṇāvalambaṁ
geha-juṣām api manasy udiyāt sadā naḥ

Verses not in madhura-rasa also, such as the prayers by Kaliya (BhP x.16) and the maGgala prayers to Shukadeva at the beginning of Suta Goswami’s recital (BhP 1.2.2-3) are also in vasanta-tilakā.

yaṁ pravrajantam anupetam apeta-kṛtyam
dvaipāyano viraha-kātara ājuhāva
putreti tan-mayatayā taravo 'bhinedus
taṁ sarva-bhūta-hṛdayaṁ munim ānato ‘smi

This is one of the most popular metres in Sanskrit kāvya. About 40% of Vilāpa-kusumāñjalī, 20% of Rādhā-rasa-sudhā-nidhi, 23% of the verse in Ānanda-vṛndāvana-campū, 10% of the verses in Rupa’s plays, is in vasantā. Of the lyric metres, it is second in frequency only to śārdūla-vikrīḍita, which we will be seeing presently.

(5) Longer metres

The next group of metres are primarily found in poetical works. They are completely absent from most puranic literature with the exception of the BhP, which is one of the reasons that the Bhagavata is so special.

(i) Mālinī: “the garlanded woman”

We have already seen an example of mālinī from Raghunath Das’s Vilāpa-kusumāñjalī. It has fifteen syllables to a line with a very clear caesura after eight syllables. It is one of the easiest metres to recognize because each line starts with six short syllables followed by two longs. mālinī is also found in the Bhagavatam, in the section of BhP known as the bhramara-gīta (x.47.12-21). One gopI, usually said to be Radha, is speaking to the bumblebee:

madhupa kitava-bandho mā spṛśāṅghriṁ sapatnyāḥ
kuca-vilulita-mālā-kuṅkuma-śmaśrubhir naḥ
vahatu madhupatis tan-māninīnāṁ prasādaṁ
yadu-sadasi viḍambyam yasya dūtas tvam īdṛk

Elsewhere, this metre is used in the first verse by the mahishis when feeling separation (prema-vaicittya) from Krishna (x.90.15). And again in one of the verses at the very end of the tenth canto, no doubt familiar to you all:

jayati jana-nivāso devakī-janma-vādo
yadu-vara-pariṣat svair dorbhir asyann adharmam
sthira-cara-vṛji-nighnaḥ susmita-śrī-mukhena
vraja-pura-vanitānāṁ vardhayan kāmadevam

Verses of this metre are found scattered throughout the Goswamis» literature, most memorably the Rādhikāṣṭakas of Rupa and Raghunath, many verses of Rupa’s plays, etc.

(ii) Tūṇaka

Another nice metre of fifteen syllables to the line is tūṇaka, which means “an archer’s quiver.” Starts with a long, and then alternating short-long.

kuṅkumākta-kāñcanābja-garva-hāri-gaurabhā
pītanāñcitābja-gandha-kīrti-nindi-saurabhā
vallaveśa-sūnu-sarva-vāñchitārtha-sādhikā
mahyam ātma-pāda-padma-dāsyadāstu rādhikā

karavinda-kānti-nindi-citra-patra-śāṭikā
kṛṣṇa-matta-bhṛṅga-keli-phulla-puṣpa-vāṭikā
kṛṣṇa-nitya-saṅgamārtha-padma-bandhu-rādhikā
mahyam ātma-pāda-padma-dāsyadāstu rādhikā

saukumārya-sṛṣṭa-pallavāli-kīrti-nigrahā
candra-candanotpalendu-sevya-śīta-vigrahā
svābhimarṣa-vallavīśa-kāma-tāpa-bādhikā
mahyam ātma-pāda-padma-dāsyadāstu rādhikā

(iii) Mandākrāntā

The name of this metre translates as “slowly overcome.” This lyrical metre of 17 syllables to the line is very distinctive for having a pronounced caesura at two places on each line. First four longs, caesura, then five shorts and a long, caesura, then long, short-long-long, short-long-long.

dA-dA-dA-dA /
da-da-da-da-da-dA /
dA-da-dA-dA da-dA-dA

This metre was made famous by Kalidas in his Meghadūta. Rupa Goswami’s Uddhava-sandeśa is also in this metre. There are no examples that I know of in BhP. We have already cited Raghunath Das’s verse previously:

nāma-śreṣṭhaṁ manum api śacīputram atra svarūpaṁ
rūpaṁ tasyāgrajam urupurīm māthurīṁ goṣṭhavāṭīm
rādhā-kuṇḍaṁ girivaram aho rādhikā-mādhavāśām
prāpto yasya prathita-kṛpayā śrī-guruṁ taṁ nato ‘smi

Svarupa Damodar’s famous verse describing the three desires of Krishna which lead to his incarnation as Caitanya MahAprabhu, quoted in CC Adi 1.6, is in this metre.

śrī-rādhāyāḥ pranaya-mahimā kīdṛśo vānayaivā-
svādyo yenādbhuta-madhurimā kīdṛśo vā madīyaḥ
saukhyaṁ cāsyā mad-anubhavataḥ kīdṛśaṁ veti lobhāt
tad-bhāvāḍhyaḥ samajani śacī-garbha-sindhau harīnduḥ

(iv) Śikhariṇī

This lyrical metre of 17 syllables to the line with caesura after six syllables is also very distinctive. Once again there are no examples that I know of in BhP. Krishna Das Kaviraja’s famous maṅgala verse to Chaitanya is in this metre:

yad advaitaṁ brahmopaniṣadi tad apy asya tanubhā
ya ātmāntaryāmī puruṣa iti so» syāṁśa-vibhavaḥ
ṣaḍaiśvaryaiḥ pūrṇo ya iha bhagavān sa svayam ayaṁ
sa caitanyāt kṛṣṇāj jagati paratattvaṁ param iha

The first six syllables contain one short and then five longs. After the caesura there is a run of five short syllables before ending the line with two longs, three shorts and a long.

da-dA-dA-dA-dA-dA
da-da-da-da-da-dA-dA da-da-da-dA

Rupa and Raghunath’s Caitanyāṣṭakas are in this metre. Rupa Goswami’s Haṁsadūta contains 142 verses in śikhariṇī metre.

(iv) Pṛthvī

Pṛthvī is another metre of 17 syllables to the line which is comparatively less used than the two previously mentioned. One well-known stanza makes it worth mentioning, however. That is the following verse from Vidagdha-mādhava by Rupa Goswami which is found in the mangala verses of Caitanya-caritāmṛta (Adi 1.4).

anarpita-carīṁ cirāt karuṇayāvatīrṇaḥ kalau
samarpayitum unnatojjvala-rasāṁ sva-bhakti-śriyam
hariḥ puraṭa-sundara-dyuti-kadamba-sandīpitaḥ
sadā hṛdaya-kandare sphuratu vaḥ śacī-nandanaḥ

This elevated, effulgent, taste of sacred rapture is the wealth of devotional love; the Lord never gives it at any time; yet, out of his mercy, he came in this Age of Quarrel to distribute this treasure to the world, becoming incarnate in his golden form. The son of Sachi is like a lion; may he dwell in your hearts forever.

The caesura is after eight syllables. There is no clear grouping of longs and shorts together as is usually found in the longer metres. Even so, the rhythm is clear and distinctive:
short-long-short, short-long-short, short-long, caesura,
short-short-short, long-short-long, long-short-long.

da-dA da-da-dA da-da-dA da-da-da-dA da-dA-dA da-dA

(v) Nardaṭaka

There is another rarer metre with 17 syllables. Outside of BhP, I have never seen it used anywhere but in Ānanda-vṛndāvana-campū and once in Mādhava-mahotsava. But since an important chapter of BhP is written in this metre, I thought that I would mention it here. The chapter is BhP 10.87, the Veda-stuti, and the verses 14 to 41 are written in nardaṭaka metre.

This metre again has lots of short syllables, but broken up frequently with longs. Starts with four shorts, long short long, caesura after seven, three shorts, long-short-short, long-short-short-long.

da-da-da-da-dA da-dA /
da-da-da-dA da-da-dA da-da-dA

The best known example of this is verse 23, which is quoted twice in CC (Madhya 8.224, 9.123) where the Vedas say that they too worship Krishna in the mood of the gopis:

nibhṛta-marun-mano 'kṣa-dṛḍha-yoga-yujo hṛdi
yan munaya upāsate tad arayo 'pi yayuḥ smaraṇāt
striya urugendra-bhoga-bhuja-daṇḍa-viṣakta-dhiyo
vayam api te samāḥ samadṛśo 'ṅghri-saroja-sudhāḥ

Caesura after seven. There is one irregularity in the metre of this particular verse. The word, bho-ga, in the third line has been split over the caesura. But then, BhP is rather tolerant of irregularities...

(vi) Śārdūla-vikrīḍita.

Śārdūla-vikrīḍita is quite a common metre despite being one of the longest. Its name means “the play of the lion.” It is a lyric metre very much favoured by classical poets and verses such as yaḥ kaumāra-haraḥ, etc., are in this metre.

To give you an idea of the popularity of śārdūla, in the collection of poetry compiled by Sridhara Pandit, a contemporary of Jayadeva Goswami, 44% of the 2380 stanzas are in this metre, that is more than a thousand. Jayadeva himself uses it frequently in Gita Govinda and there are literally hundreds of examples to be found in the plays of Rupa and the campūs of Jīva and Kavi Karṇapūra. There are nineteen syllables to the line. Caesura is invariably after 12.
Long-long-long short-short-long short-long short-short-short-long /
Long-long-short long-long-short long:

dA-dA-dA da-da-dA-da-dA da-da-da-dA /
dA-dA-da-dA-dA da-dA

Only a couple of examples are to be found in BhP, however, though these are, appropriately enough, at its beginning and end. Thus, the janmādy asya verse is in this metre, as is dharmaḥ projjhitaḥ kaitavo 'tra. The mangala verse to the concluding chapter of the Bhagavatam, used as one of the prayers to be chanted before reciting Bhagavad Gita, is as follows:

yaṁ brahmā-varuṇendra-rudra-marutāḥ stunvanti divyaiḥ stavaiḥ
vedaiḥ sāṅga-pada-kramopaniṣadair gāyanti yaṁ sāmagāḥ
dhyānāvasthita-tad-gatena manasā paśyanti yaṁ yogino
yasyāntaṁ na viduḥ surāsura-gaṇā devāya tasmai namaḥ

Another noteworthy verse in this metre is found in BhP x.14.35 from Brahma-stava.

eṣāṁ ghoṣa-nivāsinām uta bhavān kiṁ deva rāteti naś
ceto viśva-phalāt phalaṁ tvad-aparaṁ kutrāpy ayan muhyati
sad-veṣād iva pūtanāpi sakulā tvām eva devāpitā
yad-dhāmārtha-suhṛt-priyātma-tanaya-prāṇāśayās tvat-kṛte

(vii) Srag-dharā

Sragdharā (“wearing the garland”) is the longest lyrical metre used in Sanskrit poetry. There are longer metres, but they are very rarely used. This is again a very distinctive metre with caesura after each group of seven syllables. The first group in each line has mostly long syllables, the second mostly short, the third primarily long again. Thus:

dA-dA-dA-dA da-dA-dA da-da-da-da-da-da-dA /
dA-da-dA-dA da-dA-dA

Thus, in Krishna Das Kaviraj’s (or Rupa Goswami’s, depending on whose authority you accept) Rādhā-kṛṣṇayor aṣṭa-kālīya-līlā-smaraṇa-maṅgala-stotram.

śrī-rādhā-prāṇa-bandhoś caraṇa-kamalayoḥ keśa-śeṣādy-agamyā
yā sādhyā prema-sevā vraja-carita-parair gāḍha-laulyaika-labhyā
sā syāt prāptā yayā tāṁ prathayitum adhunā mānasīm asya sevāṁ
bhāvyāṁ rāgādhva-panthair vrajam anu caritaṁ naityikaṁ tasya naumi

Conclusion

So to conclude, if you wish to get full enjoyment from learning to read and chant Sanskrit verse, you should try to master the intricacies of Sanskrit metres. Especially if you want to memorize verses, it is a good idea to analyze carefully the caesurae and so on. This will often help, not only in chanting the verse, but also in understanding it, as the meaning and the verse structure are often related. We have gone over some of the major ones here. There are, of course, many others, especially the song metres of Jayadeva and the āryā metres which are very much liked by Rupa in his plays and are also found in great quantities in Jīva Goswami’s Gopāla-campū. These will have to wait for another occasion.

If you wish to have a copy of the tape, please don’t hesitate to drop me a line. I can be reached on email at jankbrz@yahoo.com. In the meantime, enjoy the nectar of the Bhagavatam: pibata bhāgavataṁ rasam ālayam.

Chitra Sakhi's Dream

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Sun, 17 Jul 2011 08:11:00 +0000

Krishna spies on Radha while she is being bathed.

Radha is being bathed in the morning. All the sakhis and manjaris are around her, doing their different sevas. Someone is oiling her hair. Others are massaging different creams into her skin, some are putting perfumes in the water or preparing the clothes and ornaments that she will wear afterward.

Lalita comes to where Radha is sitting on a velvet covered bench and tells her that Chitra has had a very strange dream. "Wait till you hear it, it will really make you laugh!" And she starts to recount it to Radharani.

In the dream Chitra has suddenly found herself in a beautiful garden somewhere by the Yamuna, but she does not know where or how she got there. She is completely alone and is looking for Shyamasundar. But who can she ask? There is no one there.

She starts to go a little mad and starts asking the elements to help her find him. One by one, she asks the air, the ether, water, earth and fire to help, since they are all-pervading and will know where Krishna is. She asks the air, but there is no answer. No one answers.

After going through all the elements, she begins to feel hopeless and abandoned because she still hasn't seen her Shyamsundar. But then she suddenly sees five effulgent devatas standing by the river ghat.

She asks them who they are and they tell her they are the respective gods of the elements. They say that they have heard her call and come to her for her darshan.

So Chitra says, "Never mind all that, just tell me where is Shyamasundar?"

And they say, "We don't know. We do not have the power to see him."

Chitra: "Well that is a fine help!"

"Ordinarily, we cannot even see you gopis, but since you have called us, we are here. If you give us the dust of your feet, we will smear it on our eyes and then maybe we can find him for you."

"How is that? I can't find him myself and somehow my dust is going to help you find him? Doesn't make sense."

She is confused and backs away, so they come and take the dust anyway and smear it over their eyes. Then they roll in the dust, so that Chitra thinks they are completely crazy. and a few minutes later they come back and say, "He is just now coming." Then they disappear.

And suddenly Shyamasundar appears with a big smile on his face. Chitra says, "Where on earth have you been? What's the deal, leaving me all alone here by my lonesome?"

Krishna answers, "I was at the temple of Tripura Sundari, doing puja."

"What did you go there for?"

It takes some cajoling, but finally Krishna starts to tell her.

“Yesterday, I was watching as you all dressed Radha and I began to think. Radha's body is so soft and delicate that even the weight of the flower garland must bruise it. The sharp corners of her sari must scratch her and irritate her where she is so tender. The jewels are also heavy and unpleasant, what to speak of all the unguents and mascara that must be such an annoyance. One by one, all these concerns began to trouble me.

“I know she does all this for me, just to give me pleasure, but it is not really necessary. In fact, these clothes and makeup and jewelry are only fulfilling their own existence by being placed on her body. She does not really need them to make herself more beautiful for me.

“If I were to tell her to stop putting all this stuff on, I know she will do it just because I ask. But then, if she starts going around naked, people will really think she has gone completely crazy! They will lock her away inside the house and then she will really be in trouble. She will go sick from separation and die very soon.

Tripura Sundari

“I fell into a quandary, wondering what can I do? I could not sleep all night, so this morning I went to Devi's temple and began to pray.

“Tripura Sundari kindly appeared to me and said, ‘What is the trouble Shyam?’

“So I asked her, ‘Bhagavati, what is the softest thing in the world?’

“And Bhagavati said, smiling, ‘Why Shyam, there is nothing softer or more delicate in the entire universe than you and Radha!’”

So Krishna started thinking, “Aha! If I could just enter into all the things that Radha puts on, if I become her mascara, if I become her blouse, her sari, the alta on her feet, then all those things will become soft and more bearable for her, and they will cease to cause her any suffering.”

So Krishna said to Tripura Sundari, "You told me that I was the softest thing, so now you have to give me the power to enter all the hard things so there is no disturbance for Radha."

Interlude: This reminds me of some verses in Dana-keli-kaumudi:

Vrinda says:

Your body is soft and golden as ghee,
so why are you carrying the heavy jug of ghee?
Your head is meant to carry nothing heavier than
a locket of jasmine flowers— and even that would give you pain.
So please be kind and let me carry it for you. (21)

Radha: It’s not the weight of the jug that is slowing me down. Look at all these jewels I am wearing. I told Lalita not to put them on me, but she wouldn’t listen to me.

Visakha: Sakhi Radhe! Stand still for a second. I will help take some of this excessive jewelry off. (Starts doing so.)

Vrinda:

trapate vilokya padmā

lalite rādhāṁ vināpy alaṅkāram |

tad alaṁ maṇimaya-maṇḍana-

maṇḍala-racanā-prayāsena ||

The lotus flowers are still mocked by Radha’s natural beauty,
even when she is not bedecked with jewels and finery.
So you are right, all this effort
to dress and decorate her are a waste of time. (22)

This is the inner beauty called rūpam that does not require external decorations:

aṅgāny abhūṣitāny eva kenacid bhūṣaṇādinā |

yena bhūṣitavad bhāti tad rūpam iti kathyate ||

Rüpa is defined as “that quality by which a woman appears to be fully bedecked with all varieties of ornaments when in fact she is not.” (UN 10.25)

This is also a good meditation for ladies who are addicted to shopping for cosmetics and designer clothing and shoes. Your beauty, dear ladies, as a spark of Radharani, is the glow inside, not the cosmetics and fantasy jewelry outside!

Krishna's prayer to Devi is very long. He asks to become the ground on which Radha walks, to soften it for her and so on. Everything that is hard or rough or sharp, he wants to soften for her. It is Krishna’s version of the famous yat te sujāta verse:

yat te sujāta-caraṇāmbu-ruhaṁ staneṣu

bhītāḥ śanaiḥ priya dadhīmahi karkaśeṣu

tenāṭavīm aṭasi tad vyathate na kiṁ svit

kūrpādibhir bhramati dhīr bhavad-āyuṣāṁ naḥ

O dearly beloved! Your lotus feet are so soft that we, whose lives rests only in you, fear they will be hurt when we place them gently on our breasts, so we do it so carefully. Our minds, therefore, are filled with anxiety that these tender feet might be wounded by pebbles as you roam about on the forest path. (10.31.19)

When we timorously place your noble lotus feet on our breasts, which we fear are so rough, we think, “Have these feet not suffered enough from the sharp stones on the forest pathways?” And these thoughts make us dizzy because we have given our lives over to you completely (10.31.19).

There is another old verse in Padyavali, where Radha in separation says, "OK, I am going to die. No problem. If that is what God wants, that I should die in separation from Krishna, so be it. But I do ask that he grant me the following:

pañcatvaṁ tanur etu bhūta-nivahāu svāṁśe viśantu sphuṭaṁ

dhātāraṁ praṇipatya hanta śirasā tatrāpi yāce varam |

tad-vāpīṣu payas tadīya-mukure jyotis tadīyāṅgana-

vyomni vyoma tadīya-vartmani dharā tat-tāla-vṛnte’nilaḥ ||

O Master of my Destiny, I fall down and place my head at your feet,
praying to you to give me this benediction:
Let this body die and all its elements be mixed with the cosmic elements;
let the water of my body mix with the lake where Krishna bathes,
its light enter his mirror, to serve him when he beholds his reflection,
its ether merge with his courtyard, to surround him when he walks, talks or yawns,
may the earth in my body enter the ground upon which he walks
and the life air itself enter the palm-leaf fan used to relieve him from the heat.

So, Krishna is somewhat similarly praying to Devi for the power to enter all those things, so that the moment anything rough or hard or sharp touches her, he will soften the touch for her. So it is like a meditation. He is doing a sadhana of yoga meditation to be there IN the thing when it is going on her body.

End interlude.

Chitra is interrupted by Lalita’s arrival (I did not mention that Lalita left on some errand and told Chitra to finish the story herself) and so is silent for a moment. Radha is curious about the rest of the story, and pressures her, "Well, what happened then?"

In the dream, Chitra is also saying, "Well, what did Devi say to that?"

So Krishna tells Chitra, "Well, she said 'so be it'"

Chitra, "Really, did she? You're not just joking? "

"No seriously. She has given me this power.”

So Chitra says, "Shyam, dear one! I know that you love all of us sakhis along with Radha. So will you please from time to time become our ornaments and clothes as well? We know that your heart is very soft and so you would do this for us.

“But, more importantly, when you do so, will you give us a sign, especially when we are dressing Radha, so that we treat these ornaments and so on with extra care so as not to hurt you? We are always tossing these things around and dropping them. If you are present there then, surely you will suffer. And of course if we are giving you pain in any way, that will be disastrous for all of us."

Krishna just stares at Chitra, which makes her laugh nervously.

“What are you looking at? Listen, I was going crazy just a minute ago because I did not see you. And now you are staring at me like that?”

And she tells him the story of the five gods and concludes by asking Shyam, "Where are we anyway? What is this place? And where is Radha. And how did you know I was here anyhow?”

Krishna does not answer. He just hugs Chitra and at that very moment she wakes up in amazement.

Now Radha reacts to Chitra's story. She starts looking this way and that. She forgets that Chitra has been talking about a dream and thinks it is reality. She thinks, "Shyam loves me so much that he wants to be the ornaments on my body!" She immediately thinks Krishna is in her things. She starts seeing Krishna in everything, in every atom.

At this point, the preparations for the bath are complete and now they are going to bathe Radha. But Radha is completely in trance and immobile. Finally Lalita manages to brings her back to awareness by telling her that Dhanishtha has come and she has to go cook at Yashoda's house.

And all this while Krishna has been spying on Radha.

Meanwhile, Krishna is over by the kitchen, hiding and watching.

Radha Baba (1913-1992) was a devotee of Mahaprabhu and Radha-Krishna who lived in Gorakhpur. Though he did not openly preach, he wrote several devotional books. The above is roughly adapted from his book Keli-Kuñja (in Hindi, केलि-कुञ्ज), originally written in 1942-43, in which he recounts his visualizations of Radha-Krishna līlā. This book is available from the Shri Krishna Janma Sthan and Gita Vatika Prakashan, Gorakhpur. This is called svārasikī līlā smaraṇa of a nitya-līlā, but original to Radha Baba.

The taste of Radha Krishna katha

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Wed, 13 Jul 2011 16:04:00 +0000

I think that once a devotee gets a taste of Radha-Krishna katha, there is no going back. They will never get a taste for "prema" or "bhakti" or "Truth" or "transcendence" without Radha Krishna. All the words will be just so much fluff in the air. I am just trying to understand why and how to transmit that taste.

tad eva ramyaṁ ruciraṁ navaṁ navaṁ
tad eva śaśvan manaso mahotsavam
tad eva śokārṇava-śoṣaṇaṁ nṛṇāṁ
yad uttamaśloka-guṇānuvarṇanam

Those words describing the glories of the all-famous Personality of Godhead are attractive, relishable and ever fresh. Indeed, such words are a perpetual festival for the mind, and they dry up the ocean of misery. (SB 12.12.50)

I think that even if you just chant this verse from the Bhagavatam, feel its rhythm, you will get a glimpse. But how many lifetimes of preparation will it take someone to come to the point of just letting those sounds roll on the tongue and dance in the heart?

Who can give you those lifetimes of preparation?

And most of what we do produce in the vernacular will, to a great extent, I believe, be calqued on the originals. But just as ISKCON is to a great extent a hybrid: It is mostly a Western idealized sense of Indian culture. And in India, that is combined with another layer: the Indian's idealized sense of Western culture. So there are all these prisms through which the original tradition is being looked at.

But these things are normal because of the nature of changing time and place. It is just curious to observe when you have a little perspective of multiple viewpoints, i.e., Vaishnavism in different times and places, historically, culturally, according to different traditions.

God is always essentially an idea, an ideal. He exists in the mind. At least, our conception of God exists in the mind. It is therefore essentially a psychological complex that affects our evolution as human beings. As our concept of God clarifies, so do we evolve and mature as human beings.

But I am a great believer in having faith in and sticking to your personal revelations, which usually come through some parampara, some guru lineage or another, whether you want to call it that or not. Once that revelation has come, it is your life's duty to follow through on it. That revelation is, like Chaitanya Charitamrita says, a seed that you have to grow into a fully blossoming and fruit-giving tree.

You try different kinds of fertilizer. You play different kinds of music for the plant's growth. Sunlight. Heat. Whatever you can to make the bhakti plant flourish. This Radha-Krishna prema tree has such delicious fruits. People will say, "What is this exotic fruit I never saw before? Why not some good Christian apples? Or yoga peaches?" And we will say, "Just try some of these Radha-Krishna mangoes. They are very good."

So, for me, anyway, these languages... that unique, special sound of Sanskrit, Bangla, Brij... they dance in a way that prods my heart. They are a powerful irrigation technique for that seed. After all, that seed came in the form of foreign sounding sounds in the first place, so why not?

Let us put it another way: I am not telling anyone to become Indian, but I do have faith in the Indianness of this tradition. That is not saying that I have faith in modern India, or in Indians as such. Like everywhere, there is good and bad. But I have faith in what has been revealed to me, which comes to me through the medium of India, its language, its culture, its holy places, its gurus.

It is a matter of taste. And like Joseph Campbell said, you have to follow your bliss. And for me, that bliss is in the sound of Banke Bihari's name.

Mahaprabhu speaking of Sri Rupa said:

madhura prasanna iṅhāra kābya sālaṅkāra |
aiche kabitva binu nahe rasera pracāra ||

“His poetry is very sweet, clear and ornate. Without such literary skill, one cannot bring the rasa forth.”

*****

Prabodhananda Saraswati writes:

dagdho bhīma-bhavāṭavī-bhramaṇato duḥkhaugha-dāvānalair
ādāya priya-mugdha-vṛtti-kariṇīḥ sad-vartmago jīvitaḥ |
sāndrānanda-rasātiśītalatare tāpa-trayonmūlane
rādhā-keli-sudhāmbudhau mama mano mattaḥ karī majjatu ||

After wandering through this dense forest of material existence, scorched in forest fires fueled by repeated miseries, the intoxicated elephant of my mind, taking with him his sweet and lovingly behaved (vṛtti) queen, found the path of truth and survived. Now, may it bathe in the ocean of nectar that is Radha's dalliances, the cooling waters of which are deep and joyful, and which uproot all the three miseries. (Saṅgīta-mādhava 15.12)

Prabodhananda was a very learned scholar. It is almost certain therefore that he used the word vṛtti in full consciousness of yoga terminology. The mind elephant and the vṛtti she-elephant, would in this way appear to represent purusha and prakriti.

Prabodhananda is comparing his own mind to an elephant, and the mind's vṛttis to a she-elephant. In yoga, this is purusha and prakṛti, except that prakṛti is always seen as a source of bondage and the vṛttis are to be stopped (yogaś citta-vṛtti-nirodhah).

But for Prabodhananda it means something different. The pure consciousness follows the vṛttis of the mind in sadhana bhakti to bathe in the ocean of rasa, just as the male and female elephants cavort sensuously in the water pool together. Here the citta-vṛttis are seen in a positive light.
That verse by Prabodhananda reminded me of this one by Raghunath Das:
ābhīra-pallī-pati-putra-kāntā-
dāsyābhilāsātibalāśva-vāraḥ |
śrī-rūpa-cintāmaṇi-sapti-saṁstho
mat-svānta-durdānta-hayecchur āstām ||

I pray that my heart, the powerful cavalier of desire to serve the gopa-prince's beloved, in its desire to find a suitable powerful steed may become yoked to the thought-jewel horse of Rupa Goswami. (Abhīṣṭa-sūcanam, 1)

In Raghunath's verse, he prays that the desire for prema, which is the purest element of the soul, should be yoked to the horse of Rupa Goswami's mind. Rupa Goswami is of course the guru. The citta-vṛttis of the sadhaka follow those of the guru. In both cases, the element of engaging the mind in following is preeminent.

Love and the symbols of love

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Mon, 11 Jul 2011 08:12:00 +0000

Radha and Krishna are simultaneously Love and the symbol of love.

Some people seem to think that I am saying that Radha and Krishna are some kind of "role model" for human lovers. That is not what I think. The question is complex and one has to have a real close understanding of the psychology of myth, symbol and archetype and their relation to spiritual experience.

We start from the premise, based on our faith, experience, and reason, of the reality of God. God is represented psychologically in many ways as an archetypal reality. People think that you can reduce psychological realities, like myths and stories, to the realm of falsehood or fiction, but in fact they are functioning realities and remain so even when repressed. For Jung, archetypes are equivalent to the instincts.

The archetype of God, according to Jung, is simply the "Self", a realization that no doubt came to him from Indian thought. But Jung also recognized the Syzygy, or Divine Couple, as an archetype of psychological integration, the union of opposites. These two archetypal constellations are of great interest to us as devotees of Radha and Krishna.

Jung recognized the numinosity of archetypes. In other words, unconscious archetypes can either be projected externally or experience internally, through which they attain a special aura that imbues them with a meaning that is outside the common everyday experience. These experiences are generally associated with strong emotions. Indeed numinosity and intense emotional experience go hand in hand.

In the Indian tradition, the rasas are such emotional experiences and are signs of archetypal experiences.

Jung claimed to be agnostic about the ontological reality of any transcendent being, i.e. God, and to only be interested in the psychological significance of these archetypal revelations. I have to say that he was right to take this position, because people are in the gunas, and archetypal experiences in sattva, rajas and tamas are going to be quite different. They are not in and of themselves "good". A symbol of "Self" that is produced from the tamasic collective unconscious leads to evil consequences of Hitlerian proportions.

Archetypes are thus general concepts or categories to which attach the infinite varieties of possibility and are repeated in infinite variety, but have no specific content. Nevertheless, they always have meaning, like the archetype of a tree has meaning, even though the infinite varieties of tree are all distinct from it, or only approach it as an ideal.

In our concept, Love itself is a transcendent archetype that is founded in the reality of experience, but, more importantly, is instinctual. Since the desire for love is the most profound of our desires, it emanates from the soul and not from the body.

Sexual desire is only the physical manifestation of that desire, and as one descends the gunas of nature, what is innately the desire for love becomes perverted into a combination of sexuality and hate or violence. Nevertheless, the connection of sexual desire to love is something that Freud recognized and we accept, in the manner of the yogis and tantrics, that the purification and proper channeling or sublimation of sexual desire is an essential element in the search for Love.

The archetypal Reality of Love is Radha-Krishna.

Love itself is an existing reality, which may otherwise be called God. The desire for love also exists in the psyche as an archetypal complex. At the same time, because we need to incorporate that Reality into our capacity for communication, we use Radha-Krishna as shorthand, so that we can love Love, so to speak.

The mystery of love is that there is no difference between the Reality and the symbol, just like there is no difference between Krishna and Krishna's name. It is only degrees of revelation.

This comes from a confusion of understanding about the difference between sign and symbol. A sign is a pointer to something else, but does not participate in its nature. The street sign that indicates a place name is not the place itself. Once the reality indicated by a sign is attained, then, it can be discarded, having done its job.

In the case of symbols, this is not the case. A symbol participates in that which it symbolizes. For example, the spinning wheel came to symbolize Gandhi’s movement for Indian self-sufficiency; it took on a wider meaning without losing its own participatory role in that wider meaning.

A religious symbol in itself carries a universal meaning. This is why we say that symbols are fountains of unlimited meaning. Radha and Krishna do more than simply participate in love; they are not just literary lovers like Romeo and Juliet or historical lovers who have ascended to legend like Pierre and Héloise. They fully represent love as the necessary divine poles of love, since love of necessity is manifested between two persons.

Thus Jiva Goswami says:

imau gaurī-śyāmau manasi viparītau bahir api
sphurat-tat-tad-vastrāv iti budha-janair niścitam idam |
sa ko’py accha-premā vilasad-ubhaya-sphūrtikatayā
dadhan-mūrtībhāvaṁ pṛthag-apṛthyag apy āvirudabhūt ||

Wise persons have determined that
though these two are of a black and golden hue,
in their minds they are of the opposite colors,
as externally, so too are their clothes.
This is some pure, unblemished love become incarnate,
taking on this form with a dual manifestation
which is both divided and a unity.

The infinite, transcendent God's personal revelation to the finite individual soul will always be mediated by symbolic representations, which are non different from him. They are like compact, condensed forms of infinite meaning.

Therefore I say, Radha and Krishna are simultaneously Love and the symbol of love. Inasmuch as love is real, Radha and Krisha are real.

For those to whom Love has been revealed through the medium of Radha and Krishna, there is NO difference. But by the same token, if you only have the symbol, but don't have the Love, you really have neither.

Where myth and symbol are in apparent conflict, symbol always overrides myth.

Historically, myths have always been adjusted to fit the symbol as its meanings are revealed and understood in greater profundity.

This is as true in Vaishnavism as it is in all world religions.

Failure to recognize this principal means religious fundamentalism and spiritual atrophy. This is as true in Vaishnavism as it is in all world religions. If it were not so, there would be no meaning to a verse like the following:

anarpita-carīṁ cirāt karuṇayāvatīrṇaḥ kalau

samarpayitum unnatojjvala-rasāṁ sva-bhakti-śriyam

hariḥ puraṭa-sundara-dyuti-kadamba-sandīpitaḥ

sadā hṛdaya-kandare sphuratu vaḥ śacī-nandanaḥ

The Lord has never at any time given the treasure of devotional love, this most elevated, effulgent taste of sacred rapture. Nevertheless, out of His mercy, He has incarnated in this age of quarrel in a golden form to distribute that treasure freely to the world. May Lord Chaitanya, the son of Sachi, dwell in the cave of your heart like a lion forever. (ViM 1.2) (CC 1.1.4)

Refusal to accept that symbols and myths change meaning and form, that the evolutionary principle also applies in the revelation of archetypal truths, is a major cause of religious fundamentalism and spiritual stagnation.

Myths and symbols can both be discarded if they lose meaning or are perceived to have no meaning. But archetypes cannot be discarded. Archetypes simply dress up in different symbolic and mythic forms.

Archetype is the underlying meaning of the symbol; they are related as content to form. Archetype is always the subtext of any story, whether presented as fact or fiction, and it is the subtext for all perception and interpretation of reality.

Archetypes are colored by the gunas of prakriti, which gives rise to the multiplicity of symbolic and mythic forms. Those symbols and myths that most closely communicate the numinosity of the archetype are those that take on a sacred character.

Even so, the gunas are always a factor in coloring perception. In sattva-guna, a clearer perception of the true meaning of the archetype becomes apparent, which usually results in transformations of religious forms through new symbols and myths.

Rajas and tamas can also result in new, destructive forms of myth and symbol. Even so, the implicit position of the religious-minded is that archetypes in themselves are beneficial, their sattvika perception resulting in the attainment of their fullest beneficial effects.

pārthivād dāruṇo dhūmas

tasmād agnis trayīmayaḥ |

tamasas tu rajas tasmāt

sattvaṁ yad brahma-darśanam ||

Just as smoke is better than wood which is a product of earth, and fire is superior to smoke because one can perform Vedic sacrifice with it, similarly rajas is superior to tamas. Sattva, which leads to the realization of the Absolute, is superior to rajas. (BhP 1.2.24)

The pure archetype itself is always the goal, whether perceived through rajas, tamas or sattva, or through bhakti. Ultimately, it is only when it is recognized as the end rather than as a means that the archetype is fully revealed in all its transcendent glory. Even though it is then still mediated through symbols, this is the closest we can really come to full unmediated direct perception of God, the symbol's full numinosity and experience its transformative power.

SKK 10: Radha-viraha (Part III)

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Sat, 09 Jul 2011 11:02:00 +0000

Krishna has left for Mathura in a manner quite different from the Bhagavatam. No Akrura, no scene of desperation at his departure, no invitation from Kamsa or wrestling match, no sense of heroic destiny. Krishna has said he needs to be pure in order to carry out his mission of killing Kamsa and the demons and so must abandon Radha. He seems to have not given up his deep-seated grudge at Radha's resistance to his earliest advances and other offenses she has committed. He seems to have stopped identifying himself as a cowherd; he says he is the son of Vasudeva and Devaki and that he has no further use for a cowherd woman.

Even though both Krishna and Radha still refer to him as Narayan or Jagannath, or any of the other names of Vishnu, Krishna is using this in the way that any unscrupulous powerful person might use his status: to serve his own interests.

Nevertheless, at Barai's request, after repeated refusals, Krishna finally agreed to meet Radha and the two made love, but this was to be the last time. While Radha is sleeping, Krishna sneaks away to Mathura. There are no promises of a return, no expression of regrets, just the statement to Barai that "I did it because you asked me."

In song 405, Barai speaks, first chastizing Radha for having fallen into such a deep sleep that Krishna could leave. "After all the trouble I went to convincing him." She says she does not know where he has gone or where she could find him, instead blaming Krishna for being a womanizer:

viṣama puruṣa jātī kapaṭa pūrita matī
nānā bole se tirika rañje |
hena mateṁ paḍihāse se āna yuvatī lañāṁ
kāhna rati bhuñje kuñje kuñje

The hard-hearted male species is full of deception. They will say anything to charm a woman. So Krishna has laughing and joking charmed some other young girl and now is making love to her in some forest bower.

Nevertheless, Barai goes off looking for him. Does she not know that he has gone to Mathura, when he told her already? Does she simply not want to reveal the truth to Radha? Though Barai has already made this accusation before, we have no other statements that Krishna is indeed engaged with any other woman.

After wandering the whole day in the woods, Barai returns, fatigued. "I have not found him anywhere." Radha recounts her day to the old go-between.

In the first watch [early morning], I thought I would have my handsome Kahnai. And so I waited here and did nothing. I am now reaping the consequences of my mistake.

How will I survive alone here in the kunja? Where and with whom is Kahnai enjoying the pleasures of love-making? (refrain)

In the second watch [late morning], I was alone and thought, Krishna has abandoned me. Where has he gone? What woman has bathed in sacred waters so that now she is relishing Murari's love?

In the third watch [early afternoon], the koils began calling so intensely and my breath began to palpitate from his separation. In my worrying, I came to the conclusion that nothing can be done, and I began to wail and call his name, "Kahnai, Kahnai!"

In the fourth watch, as the day came to an end, I came here to the kadamba tree, where there is no Krishna, and wonder how I am going to go on living. (406)

Barai says, "No doubt you are right. Whatever woman is in Kahnai's arms is blessed. But still I will go look for him again along the Yamuna and elsewhere. When I find him, I will call you. Just tell me where to look." (407)

Radha gets some renewed hope from Barai's statement and says:

Oh yes, Barai, go and look by the Yamuna's banks. Search under the bakul tree. Look in all the bowers along the riverside, and don't forget to look up into the branches of the big trees.

If you get any sign of him, then call out to me,
I am just a poor milkmaid, alone in the woods. (refrain)

Go look for him with the other boys. He himself is just a boy and often hangs out with them. No one understands his activities through the four yugas, so be careful to watch for any sign at all. If you get him back this time, Barai, I will never leave him again, like my breath I will hold him. If you can bring him back to me, I will never hurt you again, Barai.

hara ārdha āṅga gaurī śire gaṅgā dhare |
yeteke jānila nārī yehena śarīre ||

Half of Shiva's body is Gauri, and he holds the Ganga on his head. From this we know that woman is part of a man's body. Explain this to Kahnai, Barai, and bring him to me. (408)

(409) Again Barai looks for Krishna in all the places Radha suggested, but cannot find him. Exhausted, she returns again to Radha. Her return prompts another lament from Radha (410). Barai tells her to go home, trying again to reassure her that she will find Krishna and bring him back (411).

Radha's song:

The kadamba flowers are blooming and their branches hang low; Gopal still has not returned to Gokul. How much longer will my youth and beauty go to waste? Cruel and heartless, Kahnai left me without saying a word.

Who has destroyed my childhood love? Kahna, the love of my life has not come home! (refrain)

I will wipe off the sindur from the parting in my hair, I will grind the conch bangles on my arms to dust. Without Kahnai, my life airs are burning every moment. I am like a deer that has been pierced by a poison arrow. The other cowherd girls are pious and happy in life. What sin have I committed that God makes me suffer so? Day and night I remember Kahnai's virtues, but these memories are like a lightning bolt that pierces my breast. Jyeshtha month is gone and Asharh is beginning, rainclouds cover the southern sky. And still, the cruel son of Nanda has not come home. (412)

Now Radha describes the coming of the rainy season (Asharh, Shravan, Bhadra, Ashwin):

The clouds of Asharh rumble in the sky, and the pain inflicted by Madan cause my eyes to release torrents of tears. I am not a bird, Barai, that I can just fly to wherever Kahnai is. How will I survive the four months of the rainy season? In the fullness of my youth, Kahnai has deprived me of hope.

In the month of Shravan, it rains so intensely; I lie alone in my bed and cannot sleep. How long will I suffer this fever of desire? O Barai, now is the time to bring Kahna to me.

In the month of Bhadra, the sky is dark both day and night; the peacocks, frogs and dahuk birds make a great racket. If then I cannot see Kahnai's face, my breast will burst from distress.

In the month of Ashwin, the rains will come to an end, the kash flowers will bloom and the clouds depart. If Kahnai is still gone, my life will have lost any purpose. (413)

Autumn in west Bengal, India, ushers with its soft golden sunlight reflecting over the seasonal kash phul (Kash flower) beds waving as teased by the cool breeze. This ubiquitous kash is found especially in wetlands, covering extensive areas. Their soft wavy movements in the gentle breeze are a real treat to the eyes. (Photo by H.G. Mukhopadhyaya, Flickr)

Radha has another lament and then she and Barai argue, with the final conclusion that Barai saying she will go all the way to Mathura to talk to Krishna, as that is the only place left where he could be. On arriving in Mathura, Barai speaks to Krishna and tells him of Radha's distress in separation.

Krishna's answer is spoken angrily:

Radha is very bold impudent. Just hearing about her makes me tremble. I am afraid to go near her. None of the cowherd women are any good, they all have wicked minds. How will I go in such circumstances? What have I not done for Radha? So tell me why I should have to go now? When my heart was burning for her, you took her by the hand and brought her to me, but still she was not favorable to me. So I have made my decision never to look at her again. There is no point in me going on about this, you know everything that has transpired. So I beg you now, just go back home. (416)

Barai makes another effort to convince him:

Kahnai, I don't understand your behavior. How can you refuse ambrosia when it falls directly into your hands? Please believe my words and come with me. Radha will never speak an ill word to you again.

Radha is sick with love, filled with desperation,
It's not right to leave her to suffer in separation. (refrain)

If you don't go to her now, I promise you that you will yourself suffer separation. Previously you fasted from rice on her account, now you won't take dessert when it is given to you freely?

bhāṁgila sonāra ghaṭa yuḍibāka pārī |
uttama janera nehā tehena murārī ||
ye puṇi ādhama jana āntare kapaṭa |
tāhāra se nehā yehna māṭira ghaṭa ||

The love of superior people is like a golden jar, which can be repaired if broken. But the love of lesser folk, whose hearts harbor deception, is like a clay jar: it can never be put together again. Radha was there with you, but you left her for Mathura. Going back and forth between you is going to kill me. (417)

In the last song (418) left in our manuscript, Krishna is still unbent and intransigeant:

Don't speak to me of her, Barai. When I hear her name, I don't ever want to return. You know how much she has made me suffer, and I have decided I will never look on her again. Go back, Barai, go back and don't come to talk to me of Radha any more. How much lemon juice will you pour on these open wounds? I could easily leave the wealth and opulence that I have here, but I will never be able to tolerate the burning of Radha's mean words. I have left my home in Gokul because I have decided to destroy Kamsa. In separation... [Here ends the truncated manuscript.]

Barai's character is somewhat interesting and worthy of analysis. She is irritable, easily offended, expects to be respected and is hurt if she is dishonored. Nevertheless, she continues to make the effort to mediate between our two rather difficult and childish lovers, who are constantly quarreling and bickering throughout their entire love saga. Sometimes she seems barely better than they and only rarely does she show the wisdom of her age. Caught between Radha and Krishna, she sometimes favors one, sometimes the other. On the whole, though, she generally seems to take Krishna's side and shows irritation with Radha recalcitrance or lack of surrender, and in the last act, recognizing the hopelessness of the situation, often tries to discourage her from pursuing what seems like inevitable failure. But Radha's persistent pleas finally have the effect of softening her heart and she increasingly sympathizes with her and her suffering. Though she is old, she goes into the dangerous forest, crosses the dangerous river, and in the end even makes the trip to Mathura, just to intervene on Radha's behalf. By the last song, it seems that she is as committed to Radha as she was to Krishna in the beginning. Indeed, it is this last song that makes me think that Chandidas was preparing the audience for a final reunion.

We are as I have stated several times, frustrated by the missing pages of the SKK manuscript and so we will never really know whether Chandidas wrote of Krishna's return to Vrindavan from Mathura. The general tendency in Bengal lila kirtan as also exemplified in Gopāla-vijaya, is to prolong the descriptions of separation for as long as the audience can take it and then end with a rather brief but jubilant reunion. Barai, in her final statement to Krishna, contrasts the uttama (superior) and adhama (inferior) lovers. It is really the first time any such statement has been made. Indeed, Chandidas has not made much critical commentary anywhere, showing rather than telling. But there is really nothing much anywhere that reveals that Radha and Krishna are "superior" lovers, not even when their status as immortals is openly discussed.

So though Krishna's wretched behavior to the very end of song 418 is almost irredeemable, I suspect that Chandidas is preparing us for a redemption and a happy ending. Radha's love has developed through the five years over which the events take place. In the beginning, she was just a child, and though Krishna's aggression was, certainly to our modern eyes, unconscionable, he also was in fact just a boy. I would call him a lout, but there are redeemable characteristics too: he showed some sincerity as a boatman, a laborer who would carry her wares, one who carried a parasol to protect her against the sun. He made the Vrindavan garden as a playground for her and rid the Yamuna of Kaliya for her. She took advantage of him, at first fearful and insecure, then with increasing self-awareness, testing him to his limits. And he, still immature and full of hormones, did not have the wherewithall to deal with it in any way except to profess his desire and his love, sometimes pugnaciously crossing the boundaries of seemliness.

Can we say that Radha's love, which by the end -- perhaps due to the display of divine power in Krishna's shooting of the magical flower arrows -- has become truly unconditional and overwhelming? It is true that we don't know how Sri Krishna Kirtana will end; in the last chapter Krishna has truly not looked hopeful at all. At the end of the Bana- and Vamshi-khandas, there seemed to be some hopes that there would be a reconciliation, but in this last, long, chapter, he just keeps dashing our hopes.

I don't think everything has been quite said. The problem of Krishna's divinity is a thorny one. Chandidas, if he thinks Krishna is a god or God, it is a little difficult to follow his theology. Radha and Krishna are Lakshmi and Narayan playing a game as humans, experiencing this adolescent love. Rupa Goswami would never let us completely forget that no matter how human Krishna and Radha are, they are always ideal humanity. Inwardly they are always predominantly self-aware and mature and only outwardly playing.

For Chandidas, Radha and Krishna have truly slipped into self-forgetfulness of their divinity and have really become children, experiencing the same unpreparedness and total confusion in the face of adolescence, sex desire and love. Krishna's loutishness is even somewhat forgivable in view of this, as well as the heroic destiny that lies before him, his constantly present divine beauty, as well as his boyish attempts to please Radha, even if they seem based in nothing but unrestrained desire. And if he were to come back to Radha, would we, the audience, not forgive and forget all, as surely Radha would?

Porn, the easy payoff

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Sat, 09 Jul 2011 09:44:00 +0000

Naomi Wolf has a new article on Huffington Post in which she speculates on the possible relation of the pornography culture to the rash of politicians like Anthony Weiner who have exposed themselves carelessly in the the social media.

She refers there to an older article, The Porn Myth, published several years ago in New York magazine, in which she refers to a debate about pornography she had with Andrea Dworkin, one of the early feminist anti-porn crusaders. Dworkin felt that porn would result in the increased objectification of women and lead in turn to more sex crime.

Wolf debunks this conclusion as a myth and postulates that it was rather resulting in different kinds of desensitization, especially among the young men who had become habituated to its use. One thing is certain though, the common thread in both their ideas is that those who are habituated to the use of pornography increasingly tend to depersonalize or objectify women.

Towards the end of her article, Wolf comes to the conclusion that the demystification of sex and the absence of a sense of the sacred in sexual love is the greatest loss that results from liberal access to pornography.

The young women who talk to me on campuses about the effect of pornography on their intimate lives speak of feeling that they can never measure up, that they can never ask for what they want; and that if they do not offer what porn offers, they cannot expect to hold a guy. The young men talk about what it is like to grow up learning about sex from porn, and how it is not helpful to them in trying to figure out how to be with a real woman. Mostly, when I ask about loneliness, a deep, sad silence descends on audiences of young men and young women alike. They know they are lonely together, even when conjoined, and that this imagery is a big part of that loneliness. What they don’t know is how to get out, how to find each other again erotically, face-to-face.

She points to some traditional cultures, particularly orthodox Judaism, where prudery and modesty in the public sphere was more than adequately compensated for in the private boudoir.

To say that this is a serious social and psychological disease is no understatement. If we recognize that prema is the goal of human life, then perhaps it is the most serious of all.

I would like to point out that there is an evolving connection between pornography and the consumerist work ethic of North American culture, which is the bastard child of the Protestant work ethic, the this-worldly asceticism that Max Weber pointed out was the basis of Western capitalism.

In the course of time, consumerism took salvation's place as the driving force behind the work ethic. But the carrot of consumption is backed up by whips driving towards ever-increased productivity, efficiency, and "added value."

In American society, this is coming to a head, as the quality of life (based for decades now on the exploitation of poor country resources and labor, and debt-based consumption) is finally headed to the verge of collapse. But in the meantime, capitalist society continues to try to squeeze every drop of blood from its workers in the name of productivity.

And this is where pornography comes in. Porn is the mechanization of sex, the "productivization" of masturbation. Get rid of the urge as quickly as possible so you can get back to the grind. Like all consumerism, it is depersonalization and commodification.

The complications of human relationships are eliminated; you are better off with a less costly, time-efficient video and a life-sized rubber doll.

I read somewhere that men, on average, watch pornographic materials for between 2 or 3 minutes at a time -- the time it takes them to masturbate to orgasm.

Television, which after all is merely another part of the same complex, has the same effect: vicarious living in the service of productivity.

Love is a sadhana. It requires time and effort and commitment. The crushing life of forced, ever increasing productivity in wage-slavery, leaves no time for sacred intimacy, or developing deep, meaningful, ever-evolving relationships that are integral to one's spiritual development. So pornography becomes its efficacious substitute.

It makes people lazy in pursuing the goal of sacred love, which is where true human value lies. Porn is prem preempted by an easy payoff.

The Tao of Krishna Consciousness

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Sat, 09 Jul 2011 06:31:00 +0000

This article was first posted on Audarya Forums, 07-02-2001, and I have reposted it once or twice with minor alterations. Since there is currently some interest in the themes that have been touched on in it, I thought I would make it available again, since I do not believe that it is available on-line anywhere at the moment. I have made some small changes in the concluding section.

Part I

I was recently censured by someone on the Dharma Mela list in the following words:

"This is so very Western to have this fear of anger, and emotions in general, Jagat. ... Maybe it's time you did shed some of that hard skull and get a bit thinner skinned. What do you think? I would love to see a softening in your heart, and see that shining devotee emerge. Enough dryness. Sorry if this offends anyone but why pussyfoot around it?"

Even though I have some sympathy for this assessment of my character, it got me thinking, as I have long thought about the dialectic nature of opposites like East/West, masculine/feminine and emotional/rational, etc.

We all know Prabhupada's famous dictum, "Religion without philosophy is sentiment, or sometimes fanaticism, while philosophy without religion is mental speculation." [Probably originating with someone else, Einstein perhaps? "Science without religion is lame. Religion without science is blind."]

This statement indicates to me that the Krishna consciousness movement seeks a balance between the intellectual and emotional aspects of our being, to bring them into harmony. Let us call this the “Tao of Krishna consciousness” -- finding the happy medium between the emotional yin and the intellectual yang. In Jungian terms we can call this the coniunctio oppositorum, the alchemical goal of "harmonization of opposites."

All organisms seek equilibrium or homeostasis. They do this automatically, as a part of our nature. If we are hungry, we eat. If we feel sex desire, we act to meet that need. Every creature acts according to this law, but human beings apparently feel more profound dislocation resulting from psychic imbalances not encountered in other living entities.

These psychic imbalances can be the result of culture and family upbringing, or they may be extensions of our physical being. The understanding of what to do with the imbalances may become so disjointed that some persons may kill or rape in order to find equilibrium, even though this obviously does not result in the kind of spiritual felicity that is the ultimate goal, conscious or unconscious, of every action.

We must face many kinds of dualities. The principal one that we are familiar with is usually called mind/body in the West, or spirit/matter in the East. This duality is often expressed symbolically as a male/female dualism. Such a distinction is not altogether artificial, as members of both sexes will attest: "Men are from Mars and women from Venus." There are general lines of strength and weakness in men and women that run roughly parallel to the intellect-emotion duality.

Of course, as there is nothing pure in the world, there is no such thing as a "pure" male, nor a "pure" female, so we should be wary of judging men or women on the basis of what is, after all, a primarily symbolic identification.

This language has been used historically in many relations where dominance has played a role. The Hindus, for example, were considered effeminate by both their Muslim and British conquerors. The Hindus also became complicit in this. It is not here that a detailed history of the "effeminate Hindoo" can be summarized, but suffice it to say that the same kind of discourse was found in many other cultures where a conqueror established his own cultural and intellectual superiority by attributing masculine qualities to himself, and female attributes to the conquered people.

The conquered are an emotional, colorful, people with quaint customs, but lacking the masculine qualities of discipline and rationality and thus eminently suited to the salutary benefits of rule by a more advanced, masculine, spiritual race. One of the frequent attributes given to the “effeminate” people is excessive attachment to sexuality and domesticity.

The dominated peoples usually respond with the claim that they are more "spiritual" and "less materialistic" than their conquerors. Indeed, the identification of spirituality, especially mysticism, with femininity has also been made by strongly masculine cultures, especially in the 19th century, where religious practices that were not specifically this-worldly were seen as effeminate.

Now my thesis here is that bhakti is basically a "female" spiritual practice. Jnana, karma and yoga are masculine practices, ones in which the spirit exercises domination over matter through pure intellect or force of character. Bhakti is feminine (it is the only practice that has a feminine noun). It is characterized by dependence on the supreme soul, and in its more advanced forms is emotional, and in its extreme forms even asks us to take on female characteristics.

To use a Christian example, Francis Newman is often quoted as having said, "If thy soul is to go on into higher spiritual blessedness, it must become a woman; yes, however manly thou may be among men."

In Hinduism, of course, the most radical form of bhakti is expressed in the idea that "Krishna is the only male, and all others are female." Taken to the extreme, this is known as manjari bhava.

Part II

In the above section, I have used the word "radical" and "extreme" deliberately. These terms are diametrically opposed to the concept of equilibrium that we used to begin this article. Fanaticism, as we have seen from Prabhupada's dictum, is an extension of sentiment, or emotionalism. There are other kinds of radicalism -- such as the radical attempts to rationalize society in Communism.

So, in fact, there are masculine and female types of extremism and both the masculine and feminine seek to reestablish balance where the opposite extreme has gone too far. Indeed, the Taoist idea is that extremes precede the integration of the opposite. The Taoist wheel states what is an obvious truth, that there are constant cycles in which balance and extremism follow on one another. Rajo-guna conquers Tamo-guna. Then Tamo-guna conquers Rajo-guna. Sometimes, Sattva guna arises -- then we find equilibrium.

Now, just as individuals can become imbalanced, or sick, there is no reason to believe that entire societies cannot also become "sick" in the same way. When they do, we usually find that forces arise to redress the balance. Since entire societies are conditioned in much the same way that individuals are, the idea of what constitutes balance will differ. Left and right wings, liberal and conservative forces, compete to establish their respective views of what constitutes a proper balance.

In India in the 19th century, as alluded to above, Hindu society was identified by the British ruler as a dominated and thus effeminate people. There was some truth to this and proof of it can be found in the history of the bhakti movement, in which Hindu society accepted a vision that idealized the feminine over the masculine. This was a development that took place during the Islamic period and may indeed be seen as a reaction to and implicit criticism of the dominant, hyper-masculine Islamic theism. This was also perhaps possible because Islam had its own subculture of romantic mysticism.

The arrival of the British, however, resulted in the arising of a new dynamic. The British catalyzed a different reaction in Hindu society by successfully shaming it for its lack of cohesiveness and rationality. Hindu society began to accept the British critique of itself as a society in need of testosterone.

Bhaktivinoda Thakur and Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati form a part of the Hindu reform scene of the 19th century and its aftermath. We have to look at them in their historical context, otherwise the very meaning of preaching according to time and place becomes lost. The question that I am asking here is, "What balance were they seeking to redress and how does that fit into the historical picture of bhakti?"

Both these acharyas were very intellectual in their approach to Krishna consciousness. They were critical of both monism and Sahajiyaism, which they considered the manifestations of the two extremes. Certainly they thought (as everyone does) that they had found a balanced point of view. They were redressing the imbalances created in society, particularly those created by the presence of modernizing Europeans on the one hand and decadent Hindu society on the other. Not surprisingly, modernizing Hindus found the Gaudiya Math too mystical, while traditional Gaudiya Vaishnavas found them too intellectual or "jnani."

Now where does Krishna consciousness fit on the intellectual/emotional spectrum in Western society? Specifically, where did it fit into the American society in which it found the soil to sprout?

A great deal of literature has grown up around the rise of new religious movements (NRM) in the 60's and 70's. American history seems to go through cycles of about 20 years between influxes of NRMs. At any rate, the NRMs of the 70s are not separable from the hippie movement. Just remember: they chanted Hare Krishna in "Hair"!

The hippie movement was a major statement against the "work ethic" that dominated American society. It was a reaction to war, which was seen as an extension of the same. It was also a statement against the excessive rationalism of modern society. The hippies rebelled against the "reality principle." Clearly, then, the hippie movement fell into the female/emotional side of the yin-yang spectrum. Long hair on men seems to be an appropriate symbol of this and indeed was often seen by "rednecks" as a direct sign of effemininity.

Though it took a much more austere path, the early Krishna consciousness movement in the West was imbued with the rebellious spirit of hippiedom and could not have existed without it. It was always suspicious of "karmi society," its name for the Establishment.

On the other hand, it never really knew what to do with sympathetic voices within the Establishment, which recognized that there was a very real need for spirituality being answered by movements like ISKCON. This was a sign of the movement's immaturity and, by extension, its deliberate and rebellious irrationality.

Preaching means the ability to encounter opposing opinions. If one cannot understand intuitively and emotionally the background of opposing ideas, then one cannot encounter them and "defeat" them. I put "defeat" in quotation marks because I think the term lacks dignity.

Part III

If religion is about sentiment, it is also about taste. There are many imponderables where our choices in religion are concerned. These are certainly not all entirely philosophically based. Most theistic religions talk about serving God, dedicating one's life to His service, etc., but the ways in which they conceive of that service is different. The choice of Krishna consciousness as a religion was essentially an aesthetic one -- it was born out of a taste for prasad, an appreciation of the beauty of the deities and Krishna, the Holy Name and sadhu sanga, as much as on anything philosophical -- even the shaved heads, dress and lifestyle were points of attraction, much as they may have been abhorred by the "straight" people.

It is also true that even philosophy is practically speaking never divorced from feeling. This is why ever since Marx, philosophers have constantly been "deconstructing" ideologies. Belief systems have social and psychological bases - we believe what we want to believe, no matter how sophisticated our rationalizations.

Thus even "the philosophy" for devotees is charged with an attraction to aesthetic elements -- the battlefield of Kurukshetra, Krishna on the chariot with Arjuna, the magnificence of the Vishwarupa, the exoticism of the Sanskrit terminology, the form of Jagannath and his Rathayatra, the Divine Couple Radha and Krishna, Chaitanya Mahaprabhu's life, etc.

As such, though it seems trite when sociologists say that people who join the Krishna conscious movement have a predisposition to Indian culture, it is nevertheless a truism. This aesthetic tendency or predisposition is fortified by the cultural experience of participation in the movement.

Now, all true religion or search for mystic experience also requires self-deconstruction, which is what all talk of reducing ego (or "transcending idolatry") is about. Self-understanding is the beginning point of spiritual life. To understand what we are, we must also understand what we are not, though a personalist will begin from the premise that he or she is something and not nothing.

"Neti neti" is deconstruction in its original form, but pure philosophy is essentially negative and tends to reduce variegatedness. They leave one with the tendency to relativize cultural particularities. This makes conversion particularly difficult, because conversion usually means adopting new cultural forms, even in cases less radical than Krishna consciousness. Conversion is essentially an emotional act.

This is why followers of Ramakrishna and Vivekananda in the West were "armchair philosophers." They had no need to adopt any Hindu cultural values because their philosophy told them that any kind of cultural attachment -- forms and names -- was relative and therefore inconsequential. To a certain extent, the same applies to Buddhism, though similar emotional factors and cultural features also play a big role in the rise of Buddhism in the West.

It is important to recognize this non-rational element in the conversion experience. We as Vaishnavas may vehemently deny that Krishna's form and name are like all the rest, but this argument is faith-based, not rational. When questions such as that of Chaitanya's validity as an avatar according to scripture are raised, for example, we see that devotees find themselves in a quandary. They have been told scriptural proof is a necessity, so what are they to do when there is none, except for a few dubious references from the Bhagavata and a barrel of manufactured evidence that would be thrown out of any court? The counterfeit evidence has the further bad effect of making us distrust the good faith and ethics of its manufacturers. Yet we continue to believe anyway. This is another example of the heart leading the head; another example of the contradictions of faith. But I digress.

So, the two components of religion and philosophy are like the body and soul of religious practice. The problem is that in their pure forms they are mutually destructive. Just like the body and soul need to find a modus vivendi that makes life livable, reason and religion need to find harmonious unity.

Part IV

The above considerations also call into question cultural differences in Krishna consciousness. This question has been raised recently: Can our adopted culture overcome the deep-rooted culture of birth and upbringing?

As mentioned above, Buddhism in its purest form deconstructs totally to the point of negating all attributes, and so it has had a great deal of success in implanting itself in the Western context. So much so, that there is much talk of "American" Buddhism -- which though it borrows from its Zen and Tibetan roots, is growing organically into something totally new in its western soil.

Is the same thing possible for Krishna consciousness? If our "philosophy" is so strongly contextualized, then how can it cut itself off from its cultural springboard?

This discussion itself is a very Westernized approach to Krishna consciousness. It is certainly not the kind of discourse we would expect to find in traditional Vaishnava circles. I am taking my experience as a Vaishnava and subjecting it to analysis according to tools developed by Western intelligentsia. In other words, something organic is going on. I, as a Western individual, am interacting with Vaishnavism to produce something that has not yet been seen before in either East or West.

I do not know whether the question of organic union of East and West has been formulated seriously in Iskcon in these terms or not, but Iskcon is definitely moving in the direction of an occidentalized if not Americanized version of Krishna consciousness, simply by virtue of having cut itself off from other Gaudiya Vaishnava influences. The GBC body is the final rule-maker, and it is dominated by Westerners (or Westernized Indians), who remain so whether they are conscious of the fact or not, despite their Indian dress.

Let us say that the Westernization is not altogether unwelcome, as Prabhupada himself intimated. But is "American" Vaishnavism a Western soul in an Indian body or an Indian soul in a Western body?

I know that Tripurari Maharaj is seriously considering this question, and he does so with a great deal of self-awareness, though he is no doubt fully conscious of the fine thread that has to be trod when dealing with his compatriots. Any Westernization of Vaishnavism will be considered dangerous innovation by the most conservative class of Vaishnava.

A Westernized Vaishnavism will have to begin with a dynamic concept of revelation. It will also have to be able to find a creative hermeneutic that will allow itself to keep its legitimacy through some form of faithfulness to Vaishnava tradition.

Part V

Now I am sorry to have left so many strands of thought leading in different directions. And certainly this philosophical excursus will not satisfy the criticism with which I began this article. Those who write such criticisms already find me too dry for their taste and would like to see me become a little more emotional and soft-hearted.

I started by saying that we naturally seek balance, yet that sometimes the organism takes extremist steps to find balance. This is often overcompensation. I gave the example of the sociopath who kills or rapes. Though the act of conversion is not nearly as radical an act as that of the sociopath, it is nevertheless pretty radical, especially when it takes the form it does in Krishna consciousness.

This is not necessarily a bad thing. As a matter of fact, it is possible to argue that extreme steps are often a necessary prerequisite to religious experience, which can be defined as an encounter with the "totally other." If we leave our predispositions and preconceptions entirely untouched, how can we create the type of contrast that puts us face to face with the Divine?

In the case of Krishna consciousness, there were many other positive things that came out of our experience that do not strictly fall into any particular category -- religious or cultural. They are simply human.

Nevertheless, I suggest to you that for us, the entire ISKCON experience was something of an overcompensation. Even for the most mystical individuals, it is rare that after undertaking the mystical journey, the saint does not make the "return journey" to the "world" after finding his own inner harmony, which he then imparts to his society.

Since the mystical search is always a kind of overcompensation, the pendulum needs to swing back in the other direction until it finds equilibrium.

One kind of imbalance is in the overly emotional character of our religion. In our own rigorous efforts at self-understanding, we must be able to understand the irrational (or aesthetic, sentimental, emotional, in short "feminine") motivations in our taking up certain religious practices. Too many people in ISKCON or the Gaudiya Math think that their actions are based entirely on rational considerations and they are unable to synthesize these aspects of their psyche and create a false masculine rationality that sucks the life out of their spirituality, individually and collectively.This is manifest most brazenly in exclusivistic claims. The exclusivism or fanaticism of Prabhupada's dictum arises not from sentiment, but from unsynthesized sentiment, the unrecognized feminine that cannot speak its name (so to speak!).

The false intellectual overcompensation in the Krishna Consciousness movement compromises compassion and the other "feminine" qualities. It is in part a product of religious institutionalization and the need for rationalization, bureaucratic structures and the consequent politics -- all playgrounds of the masculine that have ruined many a good religion in the past. But if we look back to our hippie roots, we will see that the desire to humanize our lives through personalizing them, through creating non-traditional communities based on love and common purpose, are also at the very root of Chaitanya Mahaprabhu's movement itself. The search for and valorization of the feminine is the essence of Chaitanya Mahaprabhu's revelation.

SKK 10: Radha-viraha (Part II)

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Thu, 07 Jul 2011 11:07:00 +0000

We finished Part I of this review of the last chapter of Śrī-kṛṣṇa-kīrtana (SKK) in the middle of a bhāva-parīkṣā ("test of love") series of songs. Radha has met Krishna and is appealing to him to accept her, but Krishna steadfastly refuses, ironically reprising many of the arguments that Radha herself used in the very beginning of the book to state the impossibility of their affair.

Now Radha appeals again to Krishna, begging him not to be cruel. She concludes, bujhiteṁ nārila tiri puruṣa jāti la: "Seeing the effects this is having on my body, your heart still remains so hard. Women have not been able to understand the male species." [Of course, this line could be read the other way round: "Men have not been able to understand women." Amitrasudan Bhattacharya has the strange, "I haven't been able to understand whether you are a man or a woman." Which is also the way that Basantaranjan Ray also seems to reads it: "If you were a woman, you would understand another woman's suffering. And if you were a man, you would understand the duties of a man to respect and care for women. Then it would be impossible for you to act in such a cruel way." The latter meaning could be understood in the more straightforward translation. (There is no "or" in the Bengali.)](379)

In song 380, Krishna proclaims himself to be Rama and the chastiser of Ravana, having cut off his ten heads. "I have turned my mind away from you, Radha" (āhme citta nebārila tore). "I am Narayan, Murari, Mukunda. I appear in age after age, kill the demons and put an end to sinful activity. I was born to Vasudeva and Devaki, in this high class family (uttama kulata mora jarama). He concludes "Now, Radha, stop being so shameless and give up your hopes to be with me. All the cowherd community does not yet know of our affair, so go back to your husband." (380)

Here it seems as though, whereas previously Krishna used his divine nature as a kind of way to intimidate Radha and tell her that she had better give in, and also to glorify her as his consort Lakshmi, now he is using it to tell her that she is not worthy of him and that he has to go off to fulfill his destiny as a kshatriya and an avatar. In fact, this contradiction seems perfectly consistent with a bully. The line "I am an avatar" means, like "I am a king", that he is above the law. And though we may say, "God is above the law," we do not appreciate the God who does not show mercy to his devotees. Let us see where Chandidas is going with this.

Radha answers: "I was fortunate enough to find you through lifetimes of pious works. Oh treasurehouse of virtue! How can you tell me to leave? If you have really become a yogi and renounced everything, then let me be a yogini and serve you."

tohme jabe yogī hailā sakala tejiñāṁ |
thākibo yoginī hañāṁ tohāṁka seviāṁ

"I cannot go back home and leave you. I have suffered so much, burning in your separation. Don't kill me. Have you no fear of the sin of killing a woman? What will you gain by killing me. I am your follower, your devotee, an orphan with no other shelter, a woman. Why then do you abandon me, Murari?"

There are certainly underlying overtones of the Rasa-līlā here and the pivotal bhāva-parīkṣā conversation found there. Take for instance:

maivaṁ vibho’rhati bhavān gaditaṁ nṛśaṁsam
santyajya sarva-viṣayāṁs tava pāda-mūlam |
bhaktā bhajasva duravagraha mā tyajāsmān
devo yathādi-puruṣo bhajate mumukṣūn ||

Oh Great One, do not speak such cruel words to us who have abandoned all possessions to come to your feet. O independent one! Please be gracious to us, your devotees, and do not abandon us, just like Narayan is gracious to those who desire liberation. (10.29.31)

tan naḥ prasīda vṛjinārdana te'ṅghri-mūlaṁ
prāptā visṛjya vasatīs tvad-upāsanāśāḥ
tvat-sundara-smita-nirīkṣaṇa-tīvra-kāma-
taptātmanāṁ puruṣa-bhūṣaṇa dehi dāsyam

Therefore, O vanquisher of all distress, please be merciful to us. We have abandoned our families and homes to come here in the hope of serving your lotus feet. O jewel among men, our hearts are burning with intense desires aroused by your beautiful smiling glances, so please allow us to serve you. (10.29.38)

More examples could no doubt be given. The killing of women is found in 10.31.2 (varada nighnato neha kiṁ vadhaḥ). But Radha concludes this song by challenging Krishna:

eta kāla āhmāka tejiteṁ ekhokhaṇe |
sakati nā bhaila tora nehāra kāraṇe ||
koṇa lāje bola ebeṁ moka jāiteṁ ghara ?

All this time you were unable to stay away from me for even a moment you loved me so much. Aren't you ashamed to now tell me to go home?

Now Krishna admits,

When I was younger, I desired you so much that I even gave up food and drink. Then, on the command of the dūtī, I shot you with the flower arrows because I was angry. (See Bāṇa-khaṇḍa.) Now I have turned my mind away from you and expiated my sin. Now it will be a waste of time to try to appeal to me. Don't try to entice me. I am Satya, Treta, Dwapara and Kali. I am the Niranjana form. [This appears to be a reference to the Nath Yoga, which would sit well with 378 above. ASB has Buddha, which I find unlikely.] I was sitting here by the Yamuna, day and night, but you never came looking for me. Now suddenly you are afflicted by desire and so you come begging. When I smiled and spoke nicely you did not give me a single sweet word. Now your youth and beauty can go to hell. I am the son of Kashyap (Aditya = Surya = Vishnu) and you are the daughter of the ocean (Lakshmi), but being puffed up with your youthful beauty, you failed to recognize me. For your sake I killed all the demons. All the gods came together and decided to give you to me. You can go now, I take no pleasure in your company, no desire to make love to you. You caused me great suffering by making me carry your goods (bhāra) all over Gokula. So just leave, go home, give up any hope of having me. (382)

I have to say, that one is a mess to analyze. If he is such a powerful god, why is he so upset and why was it such great suffering to carry her pot of dahi? And if the gods gave her to him, why does he refuse her now?

The next few songs (383-387) contain a great deal of repetition. The next song is a back-and-forth verse by verse duet, with many of the same points repeated. Krishna here adds the moralizing tone, "Let me tell you about sin and piety. Piety will take you to heaven where you enjoy and sin will take you to hell." Radha says, "I am a foolish woman, born of many flaws. How can you go on being angry?" (383) In 384-385 the same continues, Radha saying that Rama abandoned Sita and had to suffer on account of it. Krishna: "You can break gold jewelry and it can be repaired by heating and joining it, but if you break a man's heart, no one can put it together again." (sonā bāṅgileṁ āche ūpāe juḍie āguna tāpe | puruṣa nehā bhāṅgileṁ juḍie kāhāra bāpa ||)

In Song 388, Krishna says that God has made the rules. "No work can be successful if one is a sinner. I have made up his mind to free the earth of all the demons, but this will be impossible if I commits sin. So I have abandoned you, Radha, and am engaged in brahmopāsanā, yoga and meditation to purify myself of any sin and have rid myself of all sexual desire. So give up any hope of reconciliation."

But Radha has not yet given up hope:

What great achievement is it to kill someone who is already dead? Your own qualities [powers] are in your own heart [you know them]. You are master of the three worlds, what is one insignificant cowherd girl to you? I did not listen to you and so I am being punished. If I had known how angry you would be, I would never have told on you to your Mother [Yamuna-khaṇḍa]. I am taking shelter of you, Kanai, punish me as you think I deserve. I can suffer any pain, but I cannot tolerate your separation (sakala santāpa kāhna sahibāka pārī | tora biraha-santāpa sahiteṁ nā pārī ||). Please do something and free me from this suffering. (389)

In other words, you are the ruler of the three worlds, what is the question of having to perform austerities to kill demons? They are subject to death. You know your own powers, so what is one insignificant cowherd girl? On my account you won't be able to kill the demons? You want to punish me, that is your prerogative, but I am surrendered to you, will you not give shelter to me?

The songs seem to increase with intensity, Radha continuing her appeal in 390. Finally in 391, Krishna seems to soften a slight bit. After repeating the same old complaints, he finally says, "When Barai orders me, then I will come to you." (jabeṁ baḍāyi ādeśibo more tabeṁ jāiboṁ tora pāśe |) And then, says Chandidas, he fell silent and thus the conversation between the two (373-391) ends.

In Song 392, Radha appeals to Barai to arrange a meeting between her and Krishna. Again she describes her suffering, her dream apparitions of Krishna, etc. Barai is again rather unhelpful, reminding Radha of the fateful tambul incident and saying that Krishna is probably otherwise engaged with other women. "Men and bees have the same nature. They go from place to place in search of honey to drink." (puruṣa bhramara duiho eka māna | nānā thāna bhrami bhrami karae madhu pāna || 393)

Radha continues to lament her past flaws, her complaint to Yashoda, the incident with the flute. Her situation has become unbearable. She says, "I have no more shame, I have taken shelter of Shrinivas. Please bring him to me." (394) The old woman keeps on telling her that Radha angered Krishna and now what can I do about it? Finally Radha and Barai set off together to look for Krishna again, but this time they meet Narada Muni in the forest. They bow down to Narada and Radha asks if he can tell them where Krishna is. Radha summarizes her love for the son of Nanda and says that she will have no choice but to become a yogini if she cannot be reunited with him. Narada tells them that Krishna is sitting on a flower bed under a kadamba tree and that they will find him there. They go and indeed see Krishna. Radha faints and Barai brings her to, but Radha says, "I can't speak, I can't walk. You go and talk to him. Tell him how I am suffering."

[I must say, Narada's presence could have been used to greater dramatic effect. I was expecting him to say something vital to the plot. Strange.]

In Songs 397-399, Barai describes Radha's separation and weakness to Krishna. Many of the classic tropes are repeated: She curses the moon and the sandalwood, saying they are burning her. The normally cooling Malaya breezes are like acid on her skin, etc. Barai asks Krishna, "When Radha is in this state, why do you want to run around with other women?" [So I guess that Barai is not buying the yogi meditation schtick.] She tells him that she cannot bear to see her suffer so and asks him to please meet with her. At the end of Song 399, Krishna smiles and says, "Alright, have her dress in her finest, come and sit beside me and speak to me sweetly." Barai immediately goes to Radha and tells her. The next moments are for Radha longer than eons.

Song 400 describes Radha's dress and coming to Krishna and 401 their lovemaking. In 402, Radha, fatigued, rests her head on Krishna's thigh and goes to sleep. When she is asleep, Krishna gets up and goes to Barai, to whom he says that he has made love to Radha because Barai asked him to. He has kept his word but now he must leave for Mathura. It is evening, take Radha home and take care of her. You lie down beside her here, I am going. And off he goes (403).

When Radha awakens, she sees Barai sleeping beside her. She wakes her up and says, "I was just sleeping with my head on his thigh, and now he has gone away. I was so tired, but if I had known, I would not have fallen into such a deep sleep." Her feelings of separation have doubled and she begs Barai to find Krishna again. (404)

[I have to confess that this departure reminds me a lot of Mahaprabhu's sannyasa, especially as described by Lochan Das in Chaitanya Mangal. I would not be surprised if this served to some extent as a model. Lochan Das describes Mahaprabhu's last night with Vishnupriya before sneaking off in the middle of the night to go to Katwa. Though of course there are many differences, one thing is certain: Bengali Vaishnavas do see a distinct parallel between Mahaprabhu's sannyas and Krishna's departure for Mathura. Here, there is a more distinct parallel in the narratives than is provided in the Bhägavatam. Jai Radhe, so I will finish this up a little later. There is not much left to do now.]

(To be continued)

SKK 10: Radha-viraha (Part I)

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Wed, 06 Jul 2011 15:38:00 +0000

So we start the last of the chapters (khaṇḍas) of Śrī-kṛṣṇa-kīrtana, called Rādhā-viraha. I have already discussed this chapter to some extent in a previous article. That article is from two years ago, so it really shows how long I have been doing this... I have reposted some of the quotes from that here again, but will give a more detailed summary.

As we have already mentioned, the last few pages (how many we don’t know) are missing from the manuscript. The most valuable introductory and concluding portions of the work are both lost and this is deeply frustrating, for reasons that will be evident.

Rādhā-viraha is the second longest portion of the book, with 68 extant songs and who knows how many went missing with the last pages? As was stated with regards to the dāna-keli chapter, the length likely reflects the popularity of the theme itself. And indeed, the theme of Radha’s separation from Krishna is one that continues to influence Bengali Vaishnavism in ways that other forms of Radha-Krishna worship in other schools are not. We have discussed in these pages the differences between the vision of the nitya-vihārī schools of Vrindavan and the Gaudiya sampradāya, particularly Rupa Goswami. But let us leave those issues again.

Though the previous chapter ended optimistically, the audience’s hopes are quickly dashed: it does not appear that this love affair is going to end happily. Radha is lamenting that she has not seen Krishna since that hopeful last meeting. No reason is given, we are simply plunged directly into her anxiety and distress at not seeing him. Krishna has simply disappeared from view (kahnāi gela ākāśe).

The original tambul incident is still on her mind, and indeed the tambul incident, which by now seems so long ago and so insignificant, is mentioned by Barai and Krishna numerous times in this chapter, even in the first few songs.

tāmbūla nā lailoṁ kare, toka ma:iloṁ caḍe,
teṁsi kāhna āsukhila more |
And so, the tambul once again takes center stage as the unforgivable original sin, even when, for all intents and purposes, it was the right course of action. Was Radha really supposed to have capitulated right away?

Radha’s misery leads to such statements as “I will go to the ocean and feed the sharks my own flesh (353.11). Radha dreams of Krishna coming and making love to her, but he disappears before the end of night without consummating the tryst, leaving her devastated. This seems to be a foretaste of what is to come.

Radha says she is now fully grown [I am assuming 15], “Before I was too young to understand. Now I am old enough (saṁpuna baesa), so why is he angry [when I am now fully desiring him and able to fulfill his desires]?"

Barai again is ambivalent. “Put your youth in a bag and on a shelf; forget Krishna,” she says. (poṭali bāṁdhiyāṁ rākho nahulī yauvana, 353)

Radha’s continues to beg Barai to find Krishna on her behalf, threatens to become a yogini. She laments that she was not able to fulfill her desire for love with Krishna, the fortune she had come to possess being stolen away by Fate:

O Barai! My youth and wealth are all worthless. I will tear off this pearl necklace and throw it away. I will wipe off the crimson mark in my hair and grind my conch bracelets into dust. O cruel Barai, give me back my life. My own flawed destiny has taken Krishna away from me. I will shave my head and go to the ocean; I will become a yogini and wander from land to land (muṇḍiāṁ pelāiboṁ keśa yāiboṁ sāgara | yoginī rūpa dhari la:iboṁ deśāntara ||). If I cannot have Krishna due to my past deeds, then I have no choice but to throw up my hands and swallow poison. I was unable to ever achieve the perfection of lovemaking with Krishna. The treasure I had wrapped in my cloth has been stolen by Fate. (kāhna same sādhiteṁ nā pāyiloṁ ratī sidhī | āñcalera dhana more harileka vidhī) Oh please, Barai, just this once do something to help me. Go and find Krishna and bring him to me. Even after seeing me dressed and decorated for him, he still left me behind, like an orphan. (354)

Barai again tells Radha to give up hope in a song (356) that goes back and forth with questions and answers:

basanta kāle kokila rāe | maṇe manamatha se bāṇa tāe ||

It is springtime and the koils are cooing. That sound is the arrow of Cupid piercing my mind.

Radhe keeps up the pressure telling Barai where to look. “Look for him here, there, everywhere.” Starting with Vrindavan, she tells her to go further, to the Bhagirathi and even to Jagannath Puri in search of Krishna. (357) This song, it should be mentioned, was taken as “proof” by Biman Bihari Majumdar that Chandidas was writing after Chaitanya Mahaprabhu’s appearance and is a reference to his incarnation.

Again Radha says that like a yogi thinks of nothing other than his object of meditation, so she knows nothing but Krishna. (yogī yoga bine yehna mane | kāhnāyiṁ dhāḍi nā jāṇo mo āṇe || 359)

deva āsura nārāyaṇe | basa haya manamatha-bāṇe ||
nā basaeṁ tathāṁ ki madane | ye digeṁ base nārāyaṇe ||

The gods and demons as well as Narayan are all under the control of Cupid’s arrows. Do you think Cupid is not where Narayan is?

In song 361, Barai now says that the other gopis are inimical to Radha. They want Krishna to abandon her so that they can enjoy with him and that indeed this is what has happened.

363. Barai starts to feel some sympathy for Radha, seeing her great unhappiness. Krishna is somewhere in Vrindavan, so they set out looking for him.

364. One of the nicest descriptions of Krishna in the book so far. 365. Now Barai says she knows definitely where Krishna is, under the kadamba tree in Vrindavan, making love to the cowherd maidens (gopa-yuvatī same kare nidhuvana). In 366, they arrive at the kadamba tree, Radha is filled with expectations, described in the vāsaka-sajjikā manner, but he is not there. Radha is sent into another paroxysm of lamentation. (367) Again her options, “I will become a yogini and wander from land to land.”

The signs of spring, the birds, the bees, the pleasant breezes, the moonlight, all increase her suffering in the absence of Krishna. (368) Radha remains under the tree, with a soft bed of twigs and leaves and asks for Barai to please bring Krishna. Again she remembers

yabeṁ kāhna cāhile suratī |
mo tabeṁ āchiloṁ śiśumati ||
ebeṁ moñaṁ bhailoṁ bhara yuvatī |
āhmāka chāḍiāṁ kāhna gelā kati ||
se kāhnāñiṁ diāṁ moka dukha ātī |
rati bhuñje laāṁ koṇa yuvatī ||

When Kahnai wanted to make love to me, then I was just a child. Now I have reached the peak of my youth, but Kahnai has left me and gone who knows where? He is causing me so much pain by enjoying with some other girl.

Up until this time there has not been much in the way of jealousy, only that one incident in the Vṛndāvana-khaṇḍa when Krishna was late coming back to Radha and she was angry with him and indeed for a brief moment seemed to have the upper hand.

Another night passes with Radha having dreams of Krishna lying together with her. But she wakes up alone and in distress. Barai and she go out to Vrindavan looking for Krishna and this time they see him. Radha faints, Barai brings her back to awareness, and Radha starts to beg Krishna for forgiveness for all the things that she has done to give him pain (373), including of course the pan incident.

But Krishna does not answer kindly. Once again he brings up all the old grudges. He says, “Why don’t you mention that I took you across the river? Why don’t you consider my other kindnesses toward you? I carried your load to market, so now what brings you here? Go home and serve your husband Aihan. I am no longer attracted to you physically (chāra heno dekhoṁ ebeṁ tohmāra yauvana), so stop making trouble. I am going to Vrindavan.” (374)

Quite honestly, if Krishna’s cruelty to Radha has such an effect on me, here, so many years later, I can only imagine what it must have been like for someone in that Bengali audience 550 years ago. The poet has built up Radha’s suffering in separation to this point, her difficulty in finding Krishna, her expectations and joy on seeing him, and then her plaintive apologies for her wrongdoing, but it is not enough for him. And adding insult to injury he says, “I find your youthful beauty insignificant.”

After the agreement in the end of the previous chapter? Certainly it is difficult to find anything redeeming about Krishna at this point. I would even go so far as to say, “You have been a jerk most of the time from the beginning. What is your standard of love? If you are so high and think you can test the one who loves you to these limits, it does not seem forgivable to me.”

Now what? Radha’s prayer to Krishna appeals to him as God!

nāndera nandana kāhnāñi tohme vanamālī |
tribhuvane gosāñiṁ tohme adhikārī ||
narasiṁha rūpe tohme hiraṇya vidārī |
kaṁsa māribāre tohme gokula tarī ||
ālo śrīhari govinda madhusūdana |
jāyiteṁ ne more āpaṇa bhuvana ||

Oh Nandanandan, Kahnai, wearer of the forest garland! You are the master and owner of the three worlds. In the form of Nrisingha you tore Hiranyakashipu to shreds and now you have appeared in Gokul in order to destroy Kamsa. Oh Sri Hari, Govinda, Madhusudan! Please take me to your own abode! (375)

She continues to recount how she has spent the night dreaming of him, looking for him, how she has suffered not seeing him. Again she apologizes for the tambul incident. [How many times is that now?] “Please forgive all my faults and just let me sit next to you.” (375)

Here again, Krishna gives Radha no room for hope. This time he pleads his relationship as her husband’s nephew to say that it is improper for him to have an affair with her. He tells her to go home and stop coming on to him. This is almost a mirror image of the kinds of things Radha was saying to him in the earlier parts of the book when Krishna first approached her!

Radha calls Krishna cruel. "You are a nāgara, how can you abandon me like this?" Radha's appeal is direct and explicit. But Krishna only responds with the classic claim of being a brahmachari, recognizable in Rupa Goswami's Vidagdha-mādhava.

"Day and night, I practice yoga meditation. My mind has become the wind in the sky. I have tasted the nectar in the root lotus, for I have attained knowledge of Brahman. Stay away from me, O beautiful Radha. Stop desiring me. I have united the Ila, Pingala and Sushumna, and so captured the wind-like mind. I have sealed the tenth door (the Brahma-randhra) and am fully situated on the yogic path. I have cut the arrows of Cupid with the arrow of knowledge, and your youthful beauty no longer affects me. I no longer feel any transformations in my body and I recognize the futility of life in this world." With these cruel words the Holder of the Discus, the Lord, the best of the playboys (nāgara-vara) became still, absorbed in meditation. So sings Chandidas before his goddess Basali. (378)

The theme called bhāva-parīkṣā is found in the Bhāgavatam of course (10.29) as well as in Vidagdha-mādhava (Act 2) and Jagannātha-vallabha Nāṭaka (Act 2). Padyāvalī 290-291 also can be given as an example. Strictly speaking, bhāva-parīkṣā belongs to the pūrva-rāga section of the līlā and should not come here, after five years of relationship, but we are getting used to finding Chandidas applying these themes in unexpected contexts (such as the flute in the previous chapter).

Rupa Goswami has not discussed bhāva-parīkṣā in the Ujjvala-nīlamaṇi, but Vishnudas cites all these examples in his commentary to UN 15.69 in the context of pūrva-rāga section, fitting it into the discussion of the love letter (kāma-lekha). In all the above texts, Krishna tests Radha, but never quite like this, never with this kind of serious intent or finality. Indeed, it is always done with some humor, at least where the audience is concerned. In the two plays mentioned above, moreover, Krishna immediately regrets having refused her love letter.

Another thing that comes to mind, perhaps even more grave here, is that even if Radha was to blame and all her peccadilloes to be taken seriously, is that how could he act in this way if he really loved her, if his love was "true"? The question for someone who takes Krishna seriously as a deity of any kind has to call his cruelty and lack of love into question. Rupa Goswami defines prema in Ujjvala-nīlamaṇi as follows:

sarvathā dhvaṁsa-rahitaṁ saty api dhvaṁsa-kāraṇe |
yad-bhāva-bandhanaṁ yūnoḥ sa premā parikīrtitaḥ ||

The bond of love that exists between the lovers which does not break, even when there is ample cause, is known as prema. (14.63)

And Vishwanath Chakravarti so beautifully expands on the idea:

loka-dvayāt svajanataḥ parataḥ svato vā
prāṇa-priyād api sumeru-samā yadi syuḥ |
kleśās tad apy atibalī sahasā vijitya
premaiva tān harir ibhān iva puṣṭim eti ||

As a strong lion defeats many elephants and then becomes further nourished and strengthened by feeding on them, so too does sacred love, when exceedingly great, conquer all obstacles before it, whether they come from this world or the next, from enemies or from family members, from one’s own body or the things connected to it, or even from that dearest one who is the object of the love itself. Even if such obstacles should be as vast as the immeasurable Mount Meru, sacred love will conquer them and, having conquered, become stronger and more vital. (Prema-sampuṭikā , 54)

These are indeed the kinds of standards to which Krishna himself has to be held. Rupa Goswami is indeed holding Krishna up to them. His Krishna would never do this to Radha. It would be absolutely impossible.

SKK 9: Vamsi-khanda

noreply@blogger.com (Jagat) — Sun, 03 Jul 2011 10:31:00 +0000

We left Radha at the end of the previous khaṇḍa having been pierced by the arrows of love fired by Krishna, seemingly the last vestiges of resistance having been erased.

This khaṇḍa begins with Radha going with the other girls to the Yamuna to bathe and fetch water. Krishna is there playing various musical instruments and putting on a show, amusing the gopi girls. Radha remains strangely indifferent until Krishna makes himself a bamboo flute that is inlaid with gold and encrusted with diamonds. Krishna fills the flute with the omkara and this has a devastating effect on Radha.

ke nā bāṁśī bāe baḍāyi kālinī na:i kule |
ke nā bāṁśī bāe baḍāyi e goṭha gokule ||
ākula śarīra mora beākula mana |
bāṁśīra śabadeṁ mo āūlāiloṁ rāndhana ||
ke nā bāṁśī bāe baḍāyi se nā kona janā |
dāsī haāṁ tāra pāe niśiboṁ āpanā ||
ke nā bāṁśī bāe baḍāyi cittera hariṣe |
tāra pāe baḍāyi moṁ kailoṁ koṇa doṣe ||
ājhara jharae mora nayanera pāṇī |
bāṁśīra śabadeṁ baḍāyi hārāyiloṁ parāṇī
ākula kariteṁ kibā āhmāra mana |
bājāe susara bāṁśī nāndera nandana ||
pākhi nahoṁ tāra ṭhāi ūḍī paḍi jāoṁ |
medanī vidāra deu pasiāṁ lukāoṁ ||
bana poḍe āga baḍāyi jagajane jāṇī |
mora mana poḍe yehna kumbhārera paṇī ||
āntara sukhāe mora kāhna ābhilāṣe |
bāsalī śire bandī gāila caṇḍīdāse ||

Who is playing the flute by the banks of the Yamuna River, Barai? Who is playing the flute in the pastures of Gokul? My body is agitated, my mind confused. Hearing the flute has made me ruin my cooking. Who is playing the flute, Barai? Who is that person? I will surrender myself to him and become his slave. Who is playing the flute, Barai, with such delight? What offense have I committed that he treats me so? The tears are flowing from my eyes incessantly, Barai, I have lost my life in the sound of the flute. Is Nandanandan playing this sweet tune on his flute just to disturb my mind? I am not a bird that I can just fly to him, nor does the ground open up under my feet so I can go there and hide. When a forest fire starts, Barai, it burns and everyone knows, but my mind is burning like a potter's furnace. I am drying up inside in my desire for Kahnai. So Chandidas sings, his head at Basali's feet. (Song 310)

This is the first song in the book that makes me think, “You know, maybe this is the same Chandidas as the one everyone likes so much, the one who is supposed to be Mahaprabhu’s favorite.

The next song also has the same flavor. Radha is feeling that Krishna called her with his flute to the Yamuna, she came and now she does not see him, so where is he. Many of the familiar expressions of Vaishnava padavali are there. Much as I would like to save space by not quoting more songs in full:

susara bāṁśīra nāda suṇī āiloṁ mo yamunā-tīre |
śobhana kalasī kare dhariāṁ puriloṁ yamunā nīre ||
bāṁśīra nāda nā śuṇī ebeṁ kāhna gela kibā dūre |
prāṇa beākula bhaila ebeṁ kimane jāyiboṁ ghare ||
baḍāi lo ! tohme ki dekhileṁ jāyiteṁ pathe |
kāla kāhnāñiṁ cāṁcara keśe kusuma śobhita māthe || (dhru)
ahoniśī mo āna nā jāṇo eta dukha kahiboṁ kāe |
kāhnera bhāveṁ citta beākula lāje moṁ nā kāndo rāe ||
yamunā-tīre kadamera tale kāhna more dile kole |
tāhā suṁāriāṁ bikalī bhailoṁ kāhna visarila bhole ||
cāri digeṁ taru puṣpa mukulila bahe basantera bāe |
āmba ḍāle basī kuyilī kuhale lāge viṣa-bāṇa-ghāe ||
cānda surajera bheda nā jāṇo candana śarīra tāe |
kāhna biṇi mora ebeṁ eka khana eka kula yuga bhāe ||
bāṁśīra śabadeṁ prāṇa hariāṁ kāhna gelā koṇa diśe |
tā biṇi sakala āntara dahe yena beāpila biṣe ||
ebeṁ āṇiāṁ deha nāndera nandana pura ta āhmāra āśe |
bāsaī caraṇa śire bandiāṁ gāila caṇḍīdāse ||

Hearing the sweet flute song I came to the Yamuna's banks with my waterpot, and I filled it with water from the river. But now I can no longer hear the flute, Kahnai has gone away. My heart is troubled, but I don't know how I can go back home now.

Refrain: Oh Baḍāi! Did you see which way he went?
Black Kahnai, with curly hair and flowers on his crown?

Day or night, I am aware of nothing else. In whom can I confide my pain? My heart suffers so intensely and yet I cannot cry out loud. Kahnai held me close here by the Yamuna under a kadamba tree, now he has forgotten me while the memory of it makes me suffer. All around the spring breezes blow while the trees and flowers bloom while the koil sits on the branch and sings; it is all like the wound from a poison arrow. The moonlight is as hot as the sun, and sandalwood has the same effect on my skin. Without Kahnai, a single moment feels like a century. Where has Kahnai taken my heart, after stealing it with his flute song? Without him, my entire body is burning inside, as though it is pervaded by poison. Please, fulfill my hopes, Barai, bring me the son of Nanda! So sings Chandidas, his head at Basali's feet. (Song 311)

After Radha appeals to Barai to help her find Krishna, Barai makes excuses: her eyes are going bad, how can she see? The river is full of alligators and crocodiles, how can she cross? And even if she could cross, the woods are dark and full of bears and wolves and tigers, how would she manage? She reminds Radha of how Krishna helped her across the river (naukā-khaṇḍa) and carried her goods (bhāra-khaṇḍa), and still her hopes have not been fulfilled. (312)

Radha sings two more songs (313-314) about the effects of the flute on her mind and body and begs Barai to bring her Kahnai. Barai is somewhat less than kind, “You were born in a good cowherd family. It is not right for you to behave like this. Only where the mother has been unfaithful does the child have these kinds of problems and desires sexual relations with another man. Whatever went on before was all hidden. Now you want to come out in the open with this affair? You are Aihan’s dāsī, doesn't it frighten you to behave this way? (315)

Radha makes another impassioned plea to Barai, calling her "messenger" (dūtī). She imagines how she will make garlands for Krishna, a bed of flowers and twigs, and hold him in her arms. Barai finally relents, and though she says, "Why do you want to commit suicide?" she promises to tell Krishna of all of Radha's suffering and bring them together (317). Descriptions of the effects of the flute, pleas for Barai to find Krishna, Barai's protestations, all continue for the next few songs.

In Song 322 Barai resumes many of the events that have taken place so far, "Why did you refuse the gift of tambul when Krishna sent it through me? He carried the yogurt pot for you, held the parasol in the hot summer sun, cleaned the Yamuna so you could bathe, filled Vrindavan with flowers and fruits, all just to win your heart. And yet you still refused him and claimed to be a pious and chaste housewife. Nandanandan did all that for you, and yet you continue to find fault with him. Where will I find him now? Give it up, Radha, it is too late now."

[I have been wondering if it is possible to read SKK as a metaphor, and here it is perhaps becoming clear. God is often thought to be like a child, since his activities appear to be without sense to us, like those of a child who builds castles in the sand and then just as easily breaks them. But the purpose is to get the jiva to surrender. But rather than surrender, the jiva complains and resists and finds fault with God, even though everything he does is ultimately for the benefit of the jiva, from giving life and beauty and all the rest. So perhaps that is an underlying metaphorical meaning that is being taught. This reprise of all these events from Krishna's point of view seem to point to that.]

Radha describes how Krishna's flute made her ruin her cooking (323). Barai says, "You are making a big mess of things and you make it sound like it is a good thing. Alright, Krishna is wandering around somewhere in Vrindavan, go find him." (324)

So the two set off to the Yamuna, Radha with her water jug. They look, but do not find him anywhere. Finally, as evening approaches, Barai tells Radha to go home, and they would look again the next day. Ayan is coming back from the goshtha soon, and if he does not find her at home, he will blame Barai. But Barai promises to help her in any way she can.

āhmāta ādhika tora ke karibe hita |
saba khana tora kāje jāge more cita

Who will try harder for your welfare than me? My heart is always looking for ways to help you. (326.4)

That night after Aihan has gone to bed, Radha hears the flute. Seeing Aihan is deeply asleep, she goes looking for the source of the sound. She searches all night, but does not find Krishna anyway. Finally, she falls in a faint. Luckily, Barai finds her and gives her water and brings her back to consciousness. (327)

The old woman says, "Let's go to the Yamuna on the pretext of fetching water. Kahnai is always hanging out there. But this time, let's steal his flute. I know a magic spell that will put him to sleep while he is sitting under the kadamba tree. Then you can hide the flute inside your water jug." (328)

The plan is carried out. Barai casts the spell and Krishna falls asleep. Radha quickly takes the flute, puts it in her clay pot and scurries home. She takes out the flute and contemplates it for a while. Then, thinking that she will never give it back, she hides it somewhere where no one ever goes.

[Interestingly, there is no projection of personal qualities on the flute. No cursing of it or blaming of it, no envious remarks, as are so popular in the Sanskrit literature, even prior to the Goswamis. The classic example, of course, would be BhP 10.21.9:

gopyaḥ kim ācarad ayaṁ kuśalaṁ sma veṇur
dāmodarādhara-sudhām api gopikānām |
bhuṅkte svayaṁ yad avaśiṣṭa-rasaṁ hradinyo
hṛṣyat-tvaco'śru mumucus taravo yathāryāḥ ||

Dear gopis! What indescribably auspicious activities did the flute perform in previous lives that it can now freely enjoy the nectar dripping from Damodar’s lips, nectar that truly belongs to us gopis? And just look! Cultured people shed tears and tremble with joy when they see someone in their family take to the service of the Lord. Similarly, the river, where the bamboo grows and who is like the flute’s mother, is jubilant, and the lotus flowers blooming are like the hair standing on her body. The trees, senior members of the flute's family, drip with sap as though shedding tears of pleasure.

In the commentary to this verse, Sanatan Goswami says that the gopis, out of envy that the flute is stealing their property, the nectar of Krishna's lips, think it would be good to steal it and thus deprive it of its ill-gotten goods. Not only that, but it would teach the arrogant piece of bamboo not to make such a public show of his thievery.

There is an example of vaṁśī-caurī in the Ujjvala-nīlamaṇi, taken from Padyāvalī which is nice. No resemblance really to this song, but I cite it here anyway:

nīcair nyāsād atha caraṇayor nūpuraṁ mūkayantī
dhṛtvā dhṛtvā kanaka-valayāny utkṣipantī bhujānte |
mudrām akṣṇoś cakita-cakitaṁ śaśvad ālokayantī
smitvā smitvā harati muralīm aṅkato mādhavasya ||

Tiptoing carefully so as not to let her anklebells make a sound,
Holding up her arms so her bracelets and armbands won’t jingle,
Anxiously focusing her glance on the sleeping Madhava’s eyes,
With a triumphant smile, Radha snatches the flute from his lap.
(P 253, UN 15.238)

Krishna wakes up and looks around for his flute. He does not find it, but sees Barai and starts lamenting. (330) He describes the beauty and power of the flute. Someone has taken it, he says, and starts going door to door looking for it. Radha hears that Krishna is coming and starts to panic. Krishna in frustration starts to cry. (331)

Barai tries to appease Krishna by saying that the flute has been disturbing people, but no one more than the gopis. So surely one of them has taken it. Krishna responds by looking at Barai, folding his hands in prayerful posture and begging for her help in recovering it. Radha sees this and can't help smiling. Krishna catches Radha's smile and realizes that she is the one who has stolen the flute. He asks her to return it, saying that his father will be displeased if he hears that it was taken while he was sleeping. (332)

From here to the end of the chapter, Krishna, Radha and Barai are engaged in accusations back and forth. Krishna says Radha took it, she repeatedly denies it, lying brazenly. Radha says maybe Barai took it. Finally, Krishna is so frustrated that he starts crying. Barai tells Krishna that maybe if he says "pretty please" to all the gopis, one of them will surely give it back. "You have offended them all in one way or another."

When Radha hears Barai's description of Krishna's suffering, she relents and in the last song the two finally come to an agreement. Radha says she only took the flute because of her intense feelings of separation, which were worsened by hearing the flute. If Krishna promises to come to her when she is suffering in that way, she will give it back. Krishna promises that he will never cause her pain and that he forgives her whatever wrongs she has done him. Radha says that henceforth she is his dasi. And so the flute is returned to its owner and everyone goes home happy. (349) The chapter does not end with a love scene as did the previous.

The problems of the progression in the plot also remain. This chapter began with Radha's heartfelt, helpless and unabashed commitment to her love for Krishna. This had already been achieved by Krishna in the previous chapter through the rather unscrupulous means of Cupid's arrows. Now, here, he uses the flute to further his control over her, and it appears that he has won. But somehow Barai convinces Radha to steal the flute as a solution to the problem... which it isn't, since the problem, as Radha herself states in the last song, is that her feelings of separation require union, and Krishna did not give that. So it seems that her capitulation has not been complete.

Though Krishna forgives her this theft, we will see in the next chapter that this too is not true.

One thing that is immediately noticeable about this chapter is that the arguments between Radha and Krishna have not stopped, but in fact are the subject of at least half of songs. So this theme of quarrelsome argument seems to have been what Chandidas has really bequeathed to the Gaudiya world, what Rupa Goswami calls premorjitā narma-vivāda-goṣṭhī, "love charged banter and love quarrels" (DKK 5).