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One difficulty we often have in spiritual life, which causes problems both for ourselves and others, is taking just one side of a spiritual subject and trying to apply it in a way that suits our misconceptions, instead of accepting it as a call for transformation. In this way, we often change the philosophy to suit us, instead of changing ourselves to match the higher ideals of Krsna Consciousness.

One area where this is especially common is in family life. The main difficulty with men/women relationships in this world is that relationships are often seen as a space to exercise our domination, instead of a school to develop our attitude of service.

People, especially men, have a tendency to see their partner as someone who is there to serve them. This is something that often comes from lust since lust is the opposite of love. Love means to give, while lust means to take, to exploit.

There are different types of love according to their degree of purity. In this material world, love between men and women is generally quite low on the scale because often this type of love is based on mutual satisfaction. I start a relationship with a person because I think he or she will bring me happiness, and I invest in the relationship to the extent I expect to get a return. If at some point the relationship is not bringing me the happiness I expect, I break it and look for something else.

As mentioned by Śrila Prabhupada, the purest type of love that can be found in this material world is the love of a mother for her child. This type of love is considered purer because it is not based on interest; the mother just serves the child out of love. Although the mother may still have some expectancy that the child will grow and take care of her in old age, at least for now, she is just serving without getting anything in return. The child can’t pay her a salary, and a very small child can’t even reciprocate her affection, but still, the mother keeps serving.

When we enter into family life, the goal is to gradually learn to purify our relationship, converting lust into love. We start by trying to convert the lust we may feel towards the partner into an attitude of service, which is further expanded by the service to the children, service to other devotees, etc.

As we expand this attitude of service and combine it with spiritual knowledge and devotional practice, we may eventually come to understand what pure love for Krsna is. When one is on a platform of lust, it’s practically impossible to understand what this pure love is. Most of us have to go in steps.

This is the essence of Vaiṣnava relationships, and also the highest standard inside the varṇāśrama system. Of course, when we cherry-pick passages from the scriptures, we may find passages that justify practically all misconceptions we may have, but when we go to the highest teachings, that’s what we find. At the highest level, marriage is a platform to please Krsna by cultivating a friendly relationship with the partner, supporting each other, and advancing together in the direction of a higher goal.

It’s tragic how sometimes, under the plea of implementing varnāśrama or Vedic standards, we deviate from the higher standards proposed by our acaryas. In an article named “Relations between the Sexes”, published in the Harmonist, Śrila Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati Thakura speaks on this issue, offering a deep insight into the real goal of relationships between Vaiṣnavas:

“The cardinal principle of gṛhastha āśrama is that no one may be the owner of any property or service of another. Everyone is only a servant whose activities are ever in the service of the Lord. Similarly, the sole object of everyone’s service as the only master, only friend, only son and only consort is Krsna.

Marrying and giving in marriage do not give rise to any rights of a master either to the husband or to the wife. Men and women are joined in wedlock for the purpose of serving each other in the performance of the joint service of Krsna. The wife is not an object of enjoyment of the husband, nor vice versa. They do not marry for gratifying their sexual appetites. They marry for pleasing the Lord, not for pleasing themselves.

They choose for their partners only such persons who serve God better than themselves. They offer themselves to be accepted by their partners for the favor of being allowed to share in their superior service of Hari. Neither the husband nor the wife should claim the services of his or her partner on their own account. Both of them are only to offer their services if and when their partner is pleased to permit them to share their service of Hari. None of them can force their partners to serve them.

This system of household discipline has its roots in the joint worship of the household deity by all members of the household.

The reason why the guru does not ordinarily ask any person to enter the state of wedlock is that it is very rare to find anyone in this world who is willing to regard his or her wife or husband as worthy of his or her unconditional services. This is, however, exactly the only relationship between husband and wife that alone can be sanctioned by the guru.”

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The whole Bhagavad-gītā in one argument

The Bhagavad-gītā can be intimidating at first. Almost a thousand pages, full of intricate philosophical arguments, and many passages that appear disconnected from each other. It may appear more like a book for philosophers who spend their whole lives studying than for regular people who have a job and a family.

Of course, understanding all details of the Gītā demands dedication, for it includes the entire spiritual science, but we can easily get a good grasp of it if we understand the central message.

So, what is this central message? We are spirit souls, eternal servants of Kṛṣṇa, and the goal of life is to reestablish this forgotten relationship. Kṛṣṇa is the supreme enjoyer of all sacrifices, the Supreme Lord of all planets and their controllers, and the greatest friend and well-wisher of all living entities.

If Kṛṣṇa were simply the proprietor, we would fear, or maybe envy, Him. If He were only the enjoyer, one could feel exploited. But because He is the supreme friend, surrendering to Him becomes natural. Throughout the Gītā, Kṛṣṇa progressively tries to bring us to this platform of understanding our eternal relationship with Him and coming to surrender unto Him in pure love. This is the ultimate goal of all processes of yoga and the central message of the Gītā. Everything else helps us to attain or maintain this transcendental consciousness.

Arjuna plays the role of the common man, elevated from material consciousness to pure Kṛṣṇa consciousness

The Bhagavad-gītā begins with Arjuna prepared to fight. However, his determination shatters when he sees his relatives, teachers, friends, and well-wishers standing on the opposite side. Overwhelmed by attachment and compassion, he begins to calculate the consequences of the battle in terms of personal gain and loss. This shows a very practical situation: We all come to moments in life when we become perplexed, crushed by situations we cannot control, and unsure of what to do.

Arjuna, however, takes the essential step: He recognizes the limits of his knowledge and his inability to find a solution through mere reasoning. He then surrenders to Kṛṣṇa, accepting Him as his spiritual master, and begs for instructions.

Kṛṣṇa then assumes the position of teacher and points out the root cause of the problem: Arjuna’s grief is based on body identification. Knowing that the soul is immortal and independent from the body, who kills and who is killed? Weapons can destroy one’s material body, but no weapon can destroy the soul, whom is never born and never dies. Instead of lamenting over the pains and pleasures of the temporary body, Arjuna should consider what brings permanent benefit: the performance of dharma. He should thus abandon his lamentation based on bodily attachment and perform his duties without lamenting, for fighting in this detached consciousness will be beneficial both in the case of victory or defeat.

Kṛṣṇa then explains the path of devotional service, which can directly elevate us to the spiritual platform, beyond ordinary piety or impiety, abandoning selfish desires for gratification of the senses or the ego and performing our activities as a loving offering to Him. Absorbed in this transcendental consciousness, a devotee remains detached from material happiness and distress and develops all good qualities. Because of this connection with Him, a devotee is stable in both loss and gain, free from material attachment, fear, and anger. He is fully in control of his senses, like a tortoise that can withdraw its limbs at will. When he acts, he does so in Kṛṣṇa’s service, remaining fully Kṛṣṇa conscious even while working in the material world.

No one can be inactive

In the beginning of the third chapter, Kṛṣṇa clarifies that no one can remain inactive even for a moment. The solution is not to abandon work but to purify it. Work performed for personal enjoyment binds us to the karmic results, while work performed as a sacrifice to Him frees us.

How can we elevate ourselves to this platform? Kṛṣṇa gives us three injunctions: “Surrender all your works unto Me,” “Become free from desire for gain and possessiveness,” and “Fight without lethargy.” We should surrender our works unto Kṛṣṇa, but at the same time work according to His injunctions, according to our nature, and not try to imitate the path of others. Our path to perfection is not to renounce prematurely, but to work as an offering to Kṛṣṇa.

Kṛṣṇa also identifies the great enemy who can push us out of the process: lust. This powerful enemy can be defeated by transcendental knowledge. The mind is superior to the senses, and the intelligence is superior to the mind. However, because all three of them are dominated by lust, we cannot find our way out. However, superior to the intelligence is the soul, and Kṛṣṇa is the highest of all. Therefore, when we understand ourselves as the soul, eternally connected with Him, the proper hierarchy is established, and lust can be finally controlled.

Transcendental knowledge

Kṛṣṇa expands this explanation of transcendental knowledge in the fourth chapter. First of all, He explains how transcendental knowledge is transmitted: through the disciplic succession. Without it, the text may remain, but the meaning is lost. What is the goal of this transcendental knowledge? To understand Him, as the Supreme Personality of Godhead. Although unborn, He appears within this world by His internal potency whenever religious principles decline, protecting the devotees, curbing the demons, and restoring the path of dharma. And what is the result? One who understands the transcendental nature of His appearance and activities does not take birth again, attaining His eternal abode.

How can transcendental knowledge be obtained? That’s the important question. We should learn the truth by approaching a self-realized spiritual master and learning the correct conclusions from him, for only one who has seen the truth can perfectly describe it. One has to inquire with submission and offer service. What is the benefit? Transcendental knowledge acts as a boat to cross the ocean of material miseries and as a blazing fire that destroys all karmic reactions.

Just as lust is the greatest enemy of the soul, doubt is the greatest obstacle to advancement in transcendental knowledge. Doubts prevent one from developing faith, and without faith one cannot follow the process or control the senses. Doubt is thus the factor that can prevent us from advancing even after coming in contact with a genuine spiritual master. The doubting soul cannot attain any real spiritual progress. Therefore, we should slash any doubts we have in our hearts with the weapon of transcendental knowledge and “stand up and fight,” working for Kṛṣṇa in devotional service.

Action in Kṛṣṇa consciousness

Chapter three speaks about karma-yoga, the process of action in Kṛṣṇa consciousness. Chapter four speaks about transcendental knowledge, understanding of our eternal relationship with Kṛṣṇa, which leads us to the platform of devotional service. Chapter five combines the two, bringing us back to buddhi-yoga, the perfect form of karma-yoga, which Kṛṣṇa introduced in chapter two, and now explains in more detail.

Some may attain liberation by practicing renunciation, like a jñānī retiring from practical life, but devotional service is superior, safer, and more direct. Dry renunciation is based on the mistake of seeing oneself as the processor of things that may be renounced. A devotee understands everything belongs to Kṛṣṇa and should thus be used in His service. True renunciation thus means doing everything for Him. Without this understanding, we tend to see renunciation as merely abandoning external duties, while real renunciation means abandoning the claim to proprietorship and the desire to enjoy the results.

How is it possible that a self-realized devotee can act without any claim of proprietorship? This comes from an important realization: The soul does not independently perform material activities. We may desire, but for performing actions, we need the cooperation of the three modes of material nature, which move under the sanction of the Supersoul. In other words, we are entirely dependent on Kṛṣṇa’s energy even to breathe. How can we claim the results?

Another symptom of a self-realized devotee is that he sees everyone with equal spiritual vision (paṇḍitāḥ sama-darśinaḥ), seeing the soul instead of the external body. This spiritual vision also makes one unaffected by pleasant and unpleasant situations. Such a sage finds happiness within and is not attracted to external sense gratification. He tolerates the urges of the senses and resists the forces of lust and anger. He works for the benefit of all and remains happy even while still living in this world.

Many of us may be attracted to the practice of meditation. In the sixth chapter, Kṛṣṇa explains the path of dhyāna-yoga. This is not a replacement for the process of action in Kṛṣṇa consciousness, but a parallel path. The ultimate goal of all the different yoga processes described in the Bhagavad-gītā is to bring us to the stage of complete absorption in Kṛṣṇa in full realization of our constitutional position of service to Him. Karma-yoga, jñāna-yoga, dhyāna-yoga, buddhi-yoga, and the other processes described in the Gītā are different paths that lead us to this ultimate goal. Inside these processes, however, there are natural paths of progression, forming the yoga-ladder we studied in another article.

Reviving our original consciousness

Kṛṣṇa concludes chapter six by declaring that the highest yogī is the devotee who always thinks of Him with faith and love. This opens the second third of the Bhagavad-gītā, chapters seven to twelve, where He explains Himself and the path of bhakti. He is the source, support, and ultimate destination of everything. Both the individual souls and matter are part of His transcendental potencies, and thus, we are eternally connected with Him, even while living in this material world.

Now we may be bewildered by the influence of the three modes, but this is a temporary condition that ceases as soon as we become again connected with Him. By constantly remembering Him, we also remember Him at death, which takes us out of this material situation for good. In the ninth chapter, He reveals the most confidential knowledge: although He is so powerful and great, He remains personally accessible to the devotee and accepts even a leaf, flower, fruit, or water when offered with love. He is the eternal friend with whom we are always connected.

Chapters thirteen through eighteen then explain the philosophical foundation for this process of surrender. Kṛṣṇa explains how the three modes shape our knowledge, actions, determination, happiness, and faith, bringing us to our future destination. He then compares the whole material existence to an inverted banyan tree whose roots must be cut with detachment, distinguishes divine qualities from the demoniac, and shows that even religious practices can be conditioned by the three modes unless properly directed to Him.

Finally, in chapter eighteen, He summarizes all the previous teachings and gives us the final conclusion: we should remember Him, become His devotee, and take complete shelter in Him. Surrender does not mean simply abandoning everything and sitting under a tree. It means giving up the illusion of independence and using our body, mind, intelligence, abilities, and duties in cooperation with Kṛṣṇa’s will, following His teachings. Arjuna reinforces this message by confirming: My illusion is now gone, and I am prepared to act according to Your instructions.

Go deeper:

• The essential qualification to understand the Gītā

• Understanding the Absolute Truth

• The 21 essential conclusions of the Bhagavad-gītā

• The Gītā-māhātmya

• The disciplic succession: the key to understanding the scriptures

This is a publication for thoughtful readers who want to go deeper into Kṛṣṇa consciousness. I publish daily, trying to offer high-quality spiritual content, and all posts are available to free subscribers. If you wish, you can also choose a paid subscription to support this work.

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This first part explains chapters 1 to 6, which is the most important but also the most difficult-to-understand part of the Bhagavad-gītā. I’m already working on the second part, so by the time you finish studying this one, the second may be ready already.

This is the same book I’m publishing in installments here on the website. You can either follow the updates or get the printed book, as convenient.

There is also a digital version of the book available for subscribers on the upcoming books page. You can also get yours there.

At the end, we will have the full PDF available for everyone, like in the previous books. If you didn’t get them yet, here is the link:

This is a publication for thoughtful readers who want to go deeper into Kṛṣṇa consciousness. I publish daily, trying to offer high-quality spiritual content, and all posts are available to free subscribers. If you wish, you can also choose a paid subscription to support this work.

You can also receive the updates on WhatsApp or Telegram.
If you would like to contribute further, you can find the donation links here.

Descendant of Bharata (Bg 2.10)

After Arjuna surrenders, Kṛṣṇa smiles. This smile is not casual; it marks a change in their relationship. Until now, they were speaking as friends, but Arjuna understood that friendly talks could not solve his dilemma. Kṛṣṇa is the greatest authority, and by accepting Him as his spiritual master, Arjuna makes clear his seriousness in finding a solution. He doesn’t want comforting words; he wants the truth. Kṛṣṇa reciprocates by immediately assuming the role and preparing to speak with gravity.

Text 10: tam uvāca hṛṣīkeśaḥ, prahasann iva bhārata
senayor ubhayor madhye, viṣīdantam idam vacaḥ

O descendant of Bharata, at that time Kṛṣṇa, smiling, in the midst of both the armies, spoke the following words to the grief-stricken Arjuna.

Just like Arjuna, Dhṛtarāṣṭra is also a descendant of the powerful Bhārata Mahārāja; therefore, Sañjaya addresses him as such. Sañjaya is the secretary and servant of Dhṛtarāṣṭra; therefore, his relationship with him is very respectful. Śrīla Prabhupāda explains that there are three Bhāratas. The first Bhārata is the brother of Lord Rāma, and the second is the son of Ṛṣabhadeva, who after ruling the planet for a very long time, became attached to the deer and had to take two more births before going back to Godhead. This second Bhārata was so famous that our planet became known as Bhārata-varṣa, named after him. Before, it was known as Ilāvṛta-varṣa.

Dhṛtarāṣṭra is a descendant of the third Bharata, the son of Mahārāja Duṣmanta and Śakuntalā, who lived closer to our times, appearing in the dynasty of Pūru. Śrīla Prabhupāda tells his story in the Ninth Canto of Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam:

“While hunting in the forest, Duṣmanta once approached the āśrama of Mahāṛṣi Kaṇva, where he saw an extremely beautiful woman and became attracted to her. That woman was the daughter of Viśvāmitra, and her name was Śakuntalā. Her mother was Menakā, who had left her in the forest, where Kaṇva Muni found her. Kaṇva Muni brought her to his āśrama, where he raised and maintained her. When Śakuntalā accepted Mahārāja Duṣmanta as her husband, he married her according to the gāndharva-vidhi. Śakuntalā later became pregnant by her husband, who left her in the āśrama of Kaṇva Muni and returned to his kingdom.

In due course of time, Śakuntalā gave birth to a Vaiṣṇava son, but Duṣmanta, having returned to the capital, forgot what had taken place. Therefore, when Śakuntalā approached him with her newly born child, Mahārāja Duṣmanta refused to accept them as his wife and son. Later, however, after a mysterious omen, the King accepted them. After Mahārāja Duṣmanta’s death, Bhārata, the son of Śakuntalā, was enthroned. He performed many great sacrifices, in which he gave great riches in charity to the brāhmaṇas.”

Many descriptions of the Mahābhārata describe Duṣmanta as passing the throne to an outsider, instead of his sons, but from this story, we can see that Bhārata was also his son, and he chose him because of his exceptional qualifications. The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam describes that as a child, he was so powerful that he would capture a lion and play with it, just as one may play with a cat. He was a partial expansion of the Lord and had the mark of the Lord’s Sudarśana cakra on his right hand, as well as the mark of a lotus on his feet. He performed fifty-five horse sacrifices on the banks of the Ganges, and seventy-eight on the banks of the Yamunā, and performed many heroic activities, which put him on the same level as Bhārata, the son of Ṛṣabhadeva. Because of him, the name Bhārata-varṣa was reinforced, being related to both kings.

In the Bhagavad-gītā, Kṛṣṇa refers to Arjuna as the descendant of Bhārata in several verses, such as 2.18, 2.30, 4.7, etc., emphasizing his exalted lineage.

Main points in the purport of Śrīla Prabhupāda:

“O descendant of Bhārata, at that time Kṛṣṇa, smiling, in the midst of both the armies, spoke the following words to the grief-stricken Arjuna.”

a) Originally, Arjuna was a friend of Kṛṣṇa, and thus, in terms of relationship, they were on the same level. Kṛṣṇa is always superior to everyone, but He agrees to become a friend, son, or lover out of affection.

b) Kṛṣṇa was smiling because His friend Arjuna had agreed to become a disciple. Having accepted the role of spiritual master, however, He prepared to talk with gravity. Talks between master and disciple are serious.

c) The talk happened in the middle of both armies, so everyone could benefit from it. This shows the universal nature of the Bhagavad-gītā. Friends or enemies are equally entitled to hear.

Read the entire book:
« The Song of God—Volume 1, chapters 1-6

This is a publication for thoughtful readers who want to go deeper into Kṛṣṇa consciousness. I publish daily, trying to offer high-quality spiritual content, and all posts are available to free subscribers. If you wish, you can also choose a paid subscription to support this work.

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God appears in the form of many incarnations. He came as Varahadeva to fight the powerful Hiranyaksa when he submerged the earth in the cosmic waters. He appeared as Hiranyakaṣipu to protect Prahlada Maharaja; He appeared as Lord Kapila to explain transcendental knowledge, and so on. However, after describing all the different incarnations of Godhead, the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam concludes:

ete cāṁśa-kalāḥ puṁsaḥ
kṛṣṇas tu bhagavān svayam

“All of the above-mentioned incarnations are either plenary portions or portions of the plenary portions of the Lord, but Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa is the original Personality of Godhead.”

Everything starts with Krsna. Krsna is the original, Supreme Personality of Godhead. Krsna is just like a candle that ignites other candles. All candles may provide a similar illumination, but still, there is a candle that ignited all the others and is thus the origin of all illumination.

There are many forms of Viṣnu, and they are all-powerful, but still, Krsna is the original, Supreme Personality of Godhead: kṛṣṇas tu bhagavān svayam.

Krsna expands Himself into many. The first expansion is Balalarama, who is the original Servitor God. Krsna is the Supreme God, and Balarama is the Servitor God. Both are God, and both are equally worshipable, but between them, Krsna is served, and Balarama is the servitor. Balarama expands himself into all forms of paraphernalia used by Krsna and even most of His associates, facilitating Krsna’s pastimes. Balarama also appears to us in the form of the spiritual master to teach us how to serve Krsna. The spiritual master is not directly God, but he is empowered by God to help us. Being the representative of God, the spiritual master is thus as worshipable as God himself.

From Balarama comes the first Saṅkarṣaṇa, who is the origin of all the different forms of Viṣnu. From the first Saṅkarṣaṇa comes Nārāyaṇa, the Lord of Vaikunta, and from Nārāyaṇa comes the second Saṅkarṣaṇa, who is the origin of all the Puruṣa avataras, the expansions of the Lord who take charge of the creation and maintenance of the material universes.

Who are these Puruṣa avataras?

The first is Lord Maha-Viṣnu, who comes from the second Saṅkarṣaṇa. As Lord Maha-Viṣnu, Krsna creates the whole material manifestation by generating the Maha-tattva (the sum of all material elements). The Maha-tattva is also called the Karana Ocean or Causal Ocean. Because Maha-Vishnu lies down on this ocean, He is also called Karanarnavasayi Viṣnu.

The Karana Ocean is the combination of all the material elements, the three modes of material nature, the souls who want to take part in the material creation, and the time energy (Kala) that puts everything in movement. The Karana Ocean is also known as pradhāna or mahat-tattva. What is the difference between these two terms? When the energy is inactive, it is called pradhāna, which is just like a cloud that covers a small part of the spiritual sky, and when it becomes active by the influence of time and the three modes of the material nature, it is called mahat-tattva. The two terms thus speak about two stages of the same thing.

What agitates the pradhāna and transforms it into the mahat-tattva? It’s the look of Maha-Viṣnu. It’s described that Maha-Viṣnu impregnates pradhāna with all the souls who want to participate in the material creation, just like a man making a woman pregnant. Being all-powerful, the Lord can generate innumerable living entities in the womb of material nature simply by His look.

The look itself becomes Lord Sadha Śiva, who acts as a guardian for all souls who enter into the material nature. Originally, Lord Śiva is Viṣnu-tattva, a direct expansion of Lord Maha-Viṣnu. Sadha Śiva lives outside of the material universes, on his own planet, situated on the border between the spiritual and material creation. From there, he expands himself into the innumerable Śivas who are present inside each material universe. As Lord Śiva, he associates with the material nature, and thus part of his qualities are covered. He becomes thus Śiva-tattva. Prabhupada explains that Lord Śiva is just like yogurt. Yogurt is nothing more than a transformation of milk, but it can’t be used in place of milk in recipes. Lord Śiva acts thus as the greatest devotee and also as a demigod, giving blessings to materialists who worship him in search of material wealth and power.

The look of Maha-Viṣnu also transports kāla, or the time energy. There is Kāli, Kali, and kāla, which are three different things. Kāli is the material potency of the Lord. Kali is the current age, Kali-yuga, and kāla is the time-potency.

Due to the influence of time, everything in the material world is created and destroyed, including the universe itself. Because of the influence of time, everything here is temporary, and the material universes go through cycles of creation and destruction. When the universes are destroyed, all the souls merge back into the mahat-tattva, and the mahat-tattva itself merges back into the body of Lord Maha-Viṣnu.

The manifestation of the material universes lasts for 311.04 trillion years. That’s the lifespan of Lord Brahma calculated according to our time. This equals one breath of Maha-Viṣnu. When He exhales, all universes come out, and everything becomes active; and when He inhales, all the universes are destroyed, and everything merges back into His body.

This time lasts for the same period of time as the manifestation of the universes, also 311,04 trillion years. During this time, all the souls stay dormant inside the body of Maha-Viṣnu. After this period, He again exhales, and all the universes become active again. The souls have thus another opportunity to perform material activities, satisfying their material desires, performing devotional service, and eventually going back to Godhead, back to the spiritual world.

Time is eternal as an energy, but its effect upon material energy has a beginning, the start of creation. In this way, time is eternal (as a cause), but at the same time, it has a beginning (as an effect).

What about Garbhodakasayi Viṣnu and Ksirodakasayi Viṣnu?

All the different material universes emanate through the pores of Maha-Viṣnu, so from this, we can have an idea of how big He is. After generating all the universes, He enters into each of these different universes as Garbhodakasayi Viṣnu. This is the form of the Lord who lies down in the Garbhodaka ocean (inside each universe). At first, the universe is completely empty, without any place to rest, so He fills half of it with water. Lord Seṣa then manifests Himself, acting as a bed, where the Lord comfortably rests.

He then gives birth to Lord Brahma through a lotus flower coming from His navel. The Lord then expands again and becomes Ksirodakasayi Vishnu, entering into everything as Paramatma, appearing in the heart of all living beings and even inside the atoms.

We often think that there is a separate form of Paramatma in each living being and every atom, but in reality there is just one Ksirodakasayi Vishnu who just observes everything and is present everywhere. The same Ksirodakasayi Viṣnu lives on a small island in the ocean of milk on His own planet, the same planet, the Polestar. This is the same planet given to Dhruva Maharaja to rule. This is the form of Lord Viṣnu to whom the demigods pray when they are defeated by the demons, as described in different pastimes of Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam.

Lord Ksirodakasayi Viṣnu is also known as Lord Hari, and He is the source of all the different incarnations that appear in this universe. As He himself comes from Lord Garbhodakasayi Viṣnu, some passages say that Garbhodakasayi Viṣnu is the source of all incarnations. In the same way, since Garbhodakasayi Viṣnu comes ultimately from Krsna, we can also say that all incarnations come from Krsna. There is no contradiction.

Krsna appears as unlimited incarnations in the different universes. He appears as the different forms of Viṣnu to create and maintain the universes; He comes to perform different pastimes (lila-avataras); He comes in every age to teach Dharma (yuga-avataras); He appears as an incarnation during the reign of each Manu (manvantara-avataras); He empowers different living beings to perform amazing activities (saktyavesa-avataras), and so on. All these incarnations appear as expansions of Lord Ksirodakasayi Vishnu (ete cāṁśa-kalāḥ puṁsaḥ).

There are thus three different forms of Vishnu who participate in the creation of the material universes. They are all partial expansions of Krsna but perform different roles.

In short:

Maha-Viṣnu: That’s the Lord Who lays down on the causal ocean and creates all the universes. Lord Maha-Viṣnu is just one, and His form is truly gigantic, with all the universes passing through His pores.

Garbhodakasayi Viṣnu: After creating the universes, Lord Maha-Viṣnuexpands Himself and enters each and every one of the different universes. He lies down on the Garbhodaka ocean in the middle of each universe and gives birth to Lord Brahma.

Ksirodakasayi Viṣnu: In this third form, the Lord lies down in the ocean of milk and permeates everything as Paramatma. He also listens to the prayers of the demigods when they have difficulties.

Śrila Prabhupada (on SB 6.16.37) mentions:

“The origin of the material creation is Mahā-viṣṇu, who lies in the Causal Ocean. While He sleeps in that ocean, millions of universes are generated as He exhales, and they are all annihilated when He inhales. This Mahā-viṣṇu is a plenary portion of a portion of Viṣṇu, Govinda (yasya kalā-viśeṣaḥ). The word kalā refers to a plenary portion of a plenary portion. From Kṛṣṇa, or Govinda, comes Balarāma; from Balarāma comes Saṅkarṣaṇa; from Saṅkarṣaṇa, Nārāyaṇa; from Nārāyaṇa, the second Saṅkarṣaṇa; from the second Saṅkarṣaṇa, Mahā-viṣṇu; from Mahā-viṣṇu, Garbhodakaśāyī Viṣṇu; and from Garbhodakaśāyī Viṣṇu, Kṣīrodakaśāyī Viṣṇu. Kṣīrodakaśāyī Viṣṇu controls every universe. This gives an idea of the meaning of ananta, unlimited. What is to be said of the unlimited potency and existence of the Lord? This verse describes the coverings of the universe (saptabhir daśa-guṇottarair aṇḍa-kośaḥ). The first covering is earth, the second is water, the third is fire, the fourth is air, the fifth is sky, the sixth is the total material energy, and the seventh is the false ego. Beginning with the covering of earth, each covering is ten times greater than the previous one. Thus we can only imagine how great each universe is, and there are many millions of universes.”

Go deeper:

• The origin of everything

• Kṛṣṇa becomes the Puruṣa-avatāras

• Primary and secondary creation

• The creation of the material elements

• The creation of the false ego

• The appearance of the mind and senses

• The other material elements manifest

• The concept of predominating deities

This is a publication for thoughtful readers who want to go deeper into Kṛṣṇa consciousness. I publish daily, trying to offer high-quality spiritual content, and all posts are available to free subscribers. If you wish, you can also choose a paid subscription to support this work.

You can also receive updates on WhatsApp or Telegram.
If you would like to contribute further, you can find the donation links here.

The moment of surrender (Bg 2.7 to 2.9)

Arjuna spoke about compassion, morality, social structure, sinful reactions, and respect for superiors, but none of these considerations could solve his dilemma. Even the encouraging, friendly words of Kṛṣṇa did little to help. Therefore, Arjuna makes the decisive turn: he stops speaking to Kṛṣṇa as a friend and surrenders as a disciple. Now, Kṛṣṇa can speak the sobering truth and give him perfect knowledge.

Text 7: kārpaṇya-doṣopahata-svabhāvaḥ,
pṛcchāmi tvām dharma-sammūḍha-cetāḥ
yac chreyaḥ syān niścitam brūhi tan me
śiṣyas te ’ham śādhi mām tvām prapannam

Now I am confused about my duty and have lost all composure because of miserly weakness. In this condition I am asking You to tell me for certain what is best for me. Now I am Your disciple, and a soul surrendered unto You. Please instruct me.

Text 8: na hi prapaśyāmi mamāpanudyād
yac chokam ucchoṣaṇam indriyāṇām
avāpya bhūmāv asapatnam ṛddham
rājyam surāṇām api cādhipatyam

I can find no means to drive away this grief which is drying up my senses. I will not be able to dispel it even if I win a prosperous, unrivaled kingdom on earth with sovereignty like the demigods in heaven.

Text 9: sañjaya uvāca
evam uktvā hṛṣīkeśam, guḍākeśaḥ paran-tapaḥ
na yotsya iti govindam, uktvā tūṣṇīm babhūva ha

Sañjaya said: Having spoken thus, Arjuna, chastiser of enemies, told Kṛṣṇa, “Govinda, I shall not fight,” and fell silent.

As conditioned souls, we have four defects: we are prone to committing mistakes, we have imperfect senses (and imperfect intelligence), we become illusioned, and we have the propensity to take advantage of others. Because of these imperfections, we can’t find perfect knowledge by ourselves, nor can we trust other imperfect souls to give us perfect solutions, since they share the same limitations, and will thus also commit mistakes and become illusioned, if they do not outright cheat us.

The only hope for us to obtain perfect knowledge is to approach a perfect soul and trust his instructions. That’s exactly what Arjuna decided to do. Arjuna knows that his personal friend, Kṛṣṇa, is the Supreme Personality of Godhead, the original spiritual master, and the source of all knowledge. Kṛṣṇa is above all human limitations, being perfect and knowing the past, present, and future. It’s clear that no one could be better qualified to destroy his doubts. He thus openly admits his impotence in solving his dilemma and asks Kṛṣṇa for help.

It’s said that one should present oneself as a fool in front of one’s spiritual master. The meaning is that we should abandon our pride in whatever knowledge we have and instead listen to what the spiritual master has to say. If we are proud of our knowledge, we will interpret the words of the spiritual master according to our misconceptions, and we will not be able to understand the message. If we are confused and incapable of solving our problems, it means we don’t know, and admitting that is an important stage of spiritual development. Only by becoming a tabula rasa can we absorb something superior. We can see this attitude exemplified in the words of Arjuna: “Now I am confused about my duty and have lost all composure because of miserly weakness. In this condition, I am asking You to tell me for certain what is best for me.”

In other words, he openly admits that whatever knowledge he possesses has revealed itself as impotent to solve his problem, and asks Kṛṣṇa to give him something superior, perfect knowledge that can transcend the limitations of mundane understanding. He concludes by surrendering to Kṛṣṇa’s guidance, mentioning that “Now I am Your disciple and a soul surrendered unto You. Please instruct me.”

Just like Arjuna surrendered to Kṛṣṇa, we can surrender to Kṛṣṇa’s representatives and receive the same knowledge through the paramparā system. Bona fide representatives of the Lord can transmit the perfect knowledge He left, adapting the words according to the circumstances, but preserving the essence. Prabhupāda called his commentary on the Gītā the “Bhagavad-gītā As It Is,” indicating his effort to present the original meaning of the text, without clouding it with personal interpretations, as done by other authors. Similarly, disciples, grand-disciples, and great-grand-disciples of Śrīla Prabhupāda who remain faithful to his teachings are capable of presenting the same to us.

As Prabhupāda explains in his purport, “By nature’s own way the complete system of material activities is a source of perplexity for everyone. In every step there is perplexity, and therefore it behooves one to approach a bona fide spiritual master who can give one proper guidance for executing the purpose of life. All Vedic literatures advise us to approach a bona fide spiritual master to get free from the perplexities of life, which happen without our desire.”

The only qualification for a spiritual master is to know the spiritual science and to be faithful to the teachings of the previous links of the paramparā. It’s not about having certain characteristics or titles, belonging to a certain group or caste, or having certain material qualifications. As Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu summarizes: kibā vipra, kibā nyāsī, śūdra kene naya, yei kṛṣṇa-tattva-vettā, sei ‘guru’ haya. “It does not matter whether a person is a vipra [learned scholar in Vedic wisdom], or is born in a lower family, or is in the renounced order of life – if he is a master in the science of Kṛṣṇa, he is the perfect and bona fide spiritual master.” (CC Madhya 8.128)

Arjuna is tested by Kṛṣṇa

In his commentary, Śrīla Baladeva Vidyābhūṣaṇa reveals that even after Arjuna surrendered, Kṛṣṇa didn’t accept him immediately as a disciple. That’s why verse eight brings us additional arguments by Arjuna, instead of a direct answer by Kṛṣṇa. He explains that when Arjuna surrendered to Kṛṣṇa as His disciple in verse seven, Kṛṣṇa answered, possibly in a non-verbal way, that Arjuna knew the śastras very well, and therefore he could use his logic and reasoning to solve his dilemma or go instead to Vyāsadeva or another great sage, instead of approaching his friend. With this context, we can best understand why Arjuna insisted by declaring, “I can find no means to drive away this grief which is drying up my senses. I will not be able to dispel it even if I win a prosperous, unrivaled kingdom on earth with sovereignty like the demigods in heaven.” Kṛṣṇa tested Arjuna’s determination, illustrating the attitude of a spiritual master, and Arjuna passed the test by showing he was serious about receiving spiritual knowledge.

When Arjuna mentions that the grief is drying up his senses, he illustrates how it is devouring his energy and preventing him from fulfilling his duty. In the Vedas, not only the vision and hearing, etc., but also the functional limbs such as the hands, legs, etc., are counted as senses. Therefore, Arjuna reveals how the doubts had rendered his whole body inactive and impotent. His powerful arms, which in the past had protected even the demigods, were now rendered useless, like dried trees.

When he mentions that even an unrivaled kingdom with sovereignty like the demigods would not be able to dispel his doubt, he depicts how material possessions can’t solve the real problems of life. If money could solve all problems, no rich person would be unhappy, but that’s not what we observe in practice. The essential problems of life start with birth, which sets the stage for all the struggles we face in life. As Kṛṣṇa will explain in verse 2.16, everything that has a beginning has an end, and thus, together with birth comes death. As soon as we are born, each moment brings us closer to death, and there is nothing we can do about it. Having lived 30 years means that, in reality, we died 30 years. As death comes closer, old age settles in as a warning, and often we don’t even have the opportunity to reach this stage, with disease taking its toll before that. Despite all technological advancements, people continue to be born, become diseased, wither, and die, and there is no technical solution in sight for these problems. A rich person may pay for the best medical assistance, and thus maybe be able to extend his life for a few years, but the essential problems are still there. Apart from death, there are many other frustrations connected with expectation and loss that money also can’t solve. This brings us back to the knowledge of the Gītā.

In verse nine, Arjuna summarizes his bewilderment by saying, “Govinda, I shall not fight”, and falls silent, awaiting Kṛṣṇa’s instructions. The word hṛṣīkeśam in the verse is significant. Kṛṣṇa is Hṛṣīkeśa, the master of the senses, and He will surely conduct the senses of Arjuna back to the fulfillment of his duty, overcoming lamentation. As Kṛṣṇa later describes, the mind is also counted as one of the senses. Sañjaya also describes Arjuna as Guḍākeśa (the master of curbing ignorance) and Parantapa (the chastiser of the enemies), indicating to Dhṛtarāṣṭra that the doubts of Arjuna would be short-lived. Under the direct guidance of Kṛṣṇa, Arjuna would very soon arise and defeat his enemies.

Main points in the purports of Śrīla Prabhupāda:

“Now I am confused about my duty and have lost all composure because of miserly weakness. In this condition I am asking You to tell me for certain what is best for me. Now I am Your disciple, and a soul surrendered unto You. Please instruct me.”

a) No one wants difficulties, but they appear automatically in material life, just like fire in a forest. When perplexities appear, we should approach a spiritual master to find solutions to the real problems of life. A bona fide spiritual master has perfect knowledge, descending directly from Kṛṣṇa through the disciplic succession; therefore, a devotee under such proper guidance is supposed to know everything.

b) Material perplexities come from not understanding the real problems of life. A miser lives like cats and dogs, without bothering to understand the science of self-realization. He spends his time concerned only about maintaining his body and the bodies of his family members. He thus misses the opportunity of human life. Conversely, a brāhmaṇa is intelligent enough to use his human body to find real solutions.

c) Arjuna was intelligent enough to understand that his problems were caused by his material attachment. Although he could understand that his duty was to fight, he was hesitant because of miserly weakness. He thus approached Kṛṣṇa, the supreme spiritual master, for a definitive solution.

d) Certain scholars give spurious interpretations to the Gītā, explaining that we should not surrender to Kṛṣṇa as a person, but to “the unborn within Kṛṣṇa.” They are the greatest fools.

“I can find no means to drive away this grief which is drying up my senses. I will not be able to dispel it even if I win a prosperous, unrivaled kingdom on earth with sovereignty like the demigods in heaven.”

a) Arjuna was knowledgeable in the Vedas and was putting forward many arguments based on general religious and moral principles. However, this knowledge was not sufficient to solve his problems without the help of a spiritual master. In this way, we can understand that material qualifications are useless in solving the real problems of life. Help can be given only by a qualified spiritual master.

b) What is the qualification of a spiritual master? Lord Caitanya said that one who is a master in the science of Kṛṣṇa consciousness, regardless of his social position, is the real spiritual master.

c) The real problems of life, birth, old age, disease, and death, cannot be solved by wealth or economic development. To curb material lamentation, we need to take shelter of Kṛṣṇa, as Arjuna did. The process of Kṛṣṇa consciousness is the only solution to the real problems of life.

“Sañjaya said: Having spoken thus, Arjuna, chastiser of enemies, told Kṛṣṇa, “Govinda, I shall not fight,” and fell silent.”

a) Although Arjuna was temporarily lamenting over material affection, because he surrendered to Kṛṣṇa his doubts would be short-lived. Being enlightened by perfect knowledge, he would fight and win the battle. Sañjaya very tactfully informed Dhṛtarāṣṭra that there was no hope of victory for his sons.

Read the entire book:
« The Song of God—Volume 1, chapters 1-6

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In the booklet On Chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa, Prabhupāda makes the point that Kṛṣṇa consciousness is not an artificial imposition on the mind. It is simply the original identity of the soul, which is revived by the chanting of the holy names. In another passage, he explains it in terms of dharma, or essential characteristic. Just as the original characteristic of the water is to be wet, or fire to burn, the original characteristic of the soul is to love Kṛṣṇa. This is the essential, defining characteristic that can’t be separated or removed from the soul, only temporarily covered.

There is, however, a difference between Kṛṣṇa consciousness as the original nature of the soul, and Kṛṣṇa consciousness as a cultural expression. Traditionally, Vaiṣnavas would dress according to their regular position in society. A Vaiṣnava who was a king would still dress as a king, with all ornaments, while a sannyāsi would dress as a renunciant. Even by the time of Mahāprabhu, this was still prominent. Pratāparudra Mahārāja was dressing like a king, while Advaita ācārya was dressing as a brāhmana householder, for example. There was even a class of Vaiṣnavas called Pāṭhāna Vaiṣṇavas; these were Muslim Pathans who became followers of Mahāprabhu and became pure devotees, without externally adopting a new culture.

This flexibility gives us clues for addressing a question that is common nowadays: many become interested in the philosophy of Kṛṣṇa consciousness, but when they visit a temple, they see devotees dressed in ways that seem unfamiliar. In some cases this makes it more attractive, but in others it can create a barrier: the philosophy may feel deeply familiar, but the presentation feels foreign.

At this point, one may conclude that to become serious about Kṛṣṇa consciousness, one must adopt not only its spiritual principles but also an entire cultural package, including a different form of dress, food, habits, and so on. Unable to take such a radical step, many decide to remain at a distance, which is, of course, a major lost opportunity from the spiritual perspective.

So, what is essential in practicing Kṛṣṇa consciousness, and what is accessory?

Strictly speaking, there is only one really essential point, as defined by Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu:

jīvera ‘svarūpa’ haya—kṛṣṇera ‘nitya-dāsa’

“The constitutional position of every living entity is to be an eternal servant of Kṛṣṇa.”

If one can deeply understand this point and start acting on this principle, always remembering Kṛṣṇa and never forgetting Him, everything else becomes secondary.

Still, some standards are important to help us to come to this stage. Prabhupāda summarizes it in his purport to CC Madhya 19.159:

“There is a certain pattern of behavior prescribed for those actually trying to become perfect. In our Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement we advise our students not to eat meat, not to gamble, not to engage in illicit sex and not to indulge in intoxication. People who indulge in these activities can never become perfect; therefore these regulative principles are for those interested in becoming perfect and going back to Godhead.”

These are aspects of Kṛṣṇa consciousness that are not merely cultural. It is very difficult to advance in Kṛṣṇa consciousness while killing animals or hallucinating due to the use of drugs. To seriously practice spiritual life, we should maintain a clean life. However, we can see that clothing is not mentioned here. Prabhupāda addresses this point more directly in a letter to Upendra (January 27th 1971):

“We do not judge the man by his dress, so we are not concerned with the color of our cloth as much as we are concerned to keep our conduct on the plane of pure spiritual life. Our Krsna consciousness is practically being accepted by all kinds of persons all over the world and there is no discrimination of types of dress.”

There are styles of dress that are more favorable than others in the context of developing our spiritual consciousness, but it is less important than the primary principles. The idea is to be saintly, not just to look saintly.

On the other hand, not only certain forms of dress, but many aspects of modern life are not very favorable for the development of devotion to God; therefore devotees tend to avoid or replace them. Collectively, this leads to a certain cultural identity being formed. In the early days of our movement, practically all devotees were living in temples; therefore the tendency was for everyone to dress like monks, with saffron robes and shaved heads. Even in this context, however, other clothes were adopted, taking into consideration common sense. Prabhupāda personally instructed devotees working near the printing press to use trousers instead of dhotis to avoid accidents.

Nowadays, not many live in the temples; therefore, dressing like a monk may not make much sense, but dhotis and saris are still commonly used as ceremonial dresses for when we go to the temple, worship deities, etc. One of the important aspects of Kṛṣṇa consciousness is to act for the satisfaction of Kṛṣṇa; therefore, it is natural that a devotee will prefer to dress in a way Kṛṣṇa finds pleasing when going to visit Him. There is also space for individuality, and this often results in the cacophony of colors, ornaments, and make-up we see in the typical Hare Kṛṣṇa temple. Much of it is, however, just a manifestation of individual preferences.

There is, however, also the other side: Tilaka reminds us that the body is a temple of the Lord. Dhotis and saris can help us develop cleanliness and simplicity. Sanskrit and Bengali terms often express ideas that have no exact equivalent in English. Different types of ceremonies engage us in serving and remembering Kṛṣṇa, traditional musical ragas carry a long story of spiritual significance, and so on. While all these factors can be defined as optional in the sense one may follow Kṛṣṇa consciousness without them, they can be highly favorable. The main point is that they should be seen as a support for our development, not as an entrance barrier. Prabhupāda’s genius lay not merely in transporting a fixed set of customs, but in demonstrating that everything could be connected with Kṛṣṇa.

Here we come to a serious mistake: to label traditional Vaiṣṇava culture as unnecessary, primitive, or embarrassing and then demand a sanitised version of bhakti from which every unfamiliar feature has been removed. There is a whole movement in the West based on this principle. The fact that something is not essential does not make it devoid of value. Traditional practices often contain wisdom and values that become more visible as we grow. We don’t need to adopt everything immediately, and we should be wary of things that are done without a clear purpose, but on the other hand we should approach the tradition with humility rather than contempt.

One good rule of thumb is to focus first on learning the philosophy before getting into the secondary details. There are many cultural aspects that are important for the practice of Kṛṣṇa consciousness, but they are not uniformly followed in all local groups. Much of what devotees do in different communities is just loosely based on genuine spiritual principles. By first getting a good grasp of the philosophy and the historical context of our movement based on the many biographies and memoirs written by disciples who were directly in contact with Prabhupāda, we can learn to differentiate what is important from what is just detail or local custom, and thus focus on what is indeed important for our practice and that can bring us closer to Kṛṣṇa.

Therefore, we do not need to abandon our culture before beginning to practice Kṛṣṇa consciousness. We can start from where we are, following the essential principles and gradually incorporating more details and practices as we start understanding their importance. Some aspects of our previous culture will naturally be purified or abandoned, while others can be connected with Kṛṣṇa. The goal is not to become culturally Indian, traditional, or modern, but to recover our eternal identity as servants of Kṛṣṇa.

Go deeper:

• Beware of personality cults

• Using our natural talents for Kṛṣṇa

• The trap of entitlement

• Without education, varṇāśrama doesn’t work

• Dealing with different opinions in spiritual life without becoming bewildered

• Material science is not necessarily an enemy

• Waking up early solves many of our problems

• “We are what we eat”

• Simplicity makes us rich

• The danger of impersonalism

• We can progress on our own only up to a certain point

• Hearing the spiritual master demands giving up our previous conditioning

This is a publication for thoughtful readers who want to go deeper into Kṛṣṇa consciousness. I publish daily, trying to offer high-quality spiritual content, and all posts are available to free subscribers. If you wish, you can also choose a paid subscription to support this work.

You can also receive updates on WhatsApp or Telegram.
If you would like to contribute further, you can find the donation links here.

Arjuna’s doubts persist (Bg 2.4 to 2.6)

Even after Kṛṣṇa’s attempt to encourage him, Arjuna’s doubts persist. Bhīṣma and Droṇa are considered worshipable superiors by Arjuna. How could he fight them? And even if he were to fight and somehow defeat them, how could he enjoy a kingdom gained over the dead bodies of such respectable personalities? Although these arguments do not solve the problem, they are bringing Arjuna to the point where friendly talks are shown to be inadequate.

Text 4: arjuna uvāca
katham bhīṣmam aham sankhye, droṇam ca madhusūdana
iṣubhiḥ pratiyotsyāmi, pūjārhāv ari-sūdana

Arjuna said: O killer of enemies, O killer of Madhu, how can I counterattack with arrows in battle men like Bhīṣma and Droṇa, who are worthy of my worship?

Text 5: gurūn ahatvā hi mahānubhāvān, śreyo bhoktum bhaikṣyam apīha loke, hatvārtha-kāmāms tu gurūn ihaiva, bhuñjīya bhogān rudhira-pradigdhān

It would be better to live in this world by begging than to live at the cost of the lives of great souls who are my teachers. Even though desiring worldly gain, they are superiors. If they are killed, everything we enjoy will be tainted with blood.

Text 6: na caitad vidmaḥ kataran no garīyo, yad vā jayema yadi vā no jayeyuḥ, yān eva hatvā na jijīviṣāmas, te ’vasthitāḥ pramukhe dhārtarāṣṭrāḥ

Nor do we know which is better – conquering them or being conquered by them. If we killed the sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra, we should not care to live. Yet they are now standing before us on the battlefield.

Kṣatriyas maintain themselves by ruling, maintaining order, and providing protection in exchange for taxes. Some kṣatriyas would become emperors, with vast kingdoms, while others would rule over smaller tracts of land, down to single villages. Whether big or small, every kṣatriya needed some domains to rule. Before the battle, however, Duryodhana famously said that he was not prepared to spare even the land where a pin could be fixed, indicating that he was not going to settle for anything less than full victory. If Arjuna did not fight and win the battle, there would be no place for him to rule anywhere. The only possible occupation for him would be to beg.

When the Pāṇḍavas visited Mount Gandhamādana during their exile, Draupadī saw at a certain point a beautiful lotus flower with one thousand petals called saugandhika. She asked Bhīma to collect a few more such flowers. Bhīma then entered the forest, reaching a lake belonging to Kuvera, where the lotuses grew. When he prepared to collect the flowers, the Yakṣas guarding the place informed him that the lake belonged to Kuvera, warning him that if he wanted to take the lotuses, he had to first ask for his permission. Bhīma, however, answered that a kṣatriya doesn’t beg like a brāhmaṇa, nor barter like a vaiśya, and thus if they were not prepared to give the flowers he was seeking, they would have to face him in battle. Bhīma then proceeded to single-handedly fight (and defeat) the supernatural army of Kuvera armed with just his mace, just for the sake of a few flowers. This tells us something about the mood of a kṣatriya. Based on this, we can understand Arjuna’s consternation at preferring to become a beggar instead of fighting.

When Arjuna mentions, “How can I counterattack with arrows in battle men like Bhīṣma and Droṇa, who are worthy of my worship?” he indirectly refers to Kṛṣṇa’s own superiors, like his grandfather Ugrasena and his teacher Sāndīpani Muni, making the point that just as Kṛṣṇa could never attack them, how could he do the same to Bhīṣma and Droṇa? The situation was, however, different. Ugrasena and Sāndīpani Muni never sided with irreligion, while Bhīṣma and Droṇa had fallen from their positions by remaining silent when the Kauravas tried to disrobe Draupadī in the assembly, as well as in many other situations. A superior who acts irreligiously should be rejected, and in the case of kṣatriyas, he may even be faced in battle. There is nothing wrong with that. The hesitancy of Arjuna was thus due to sentiment and not according to the principles of dharma.

As Prabhupāda mentions, “According to scriptural codes, a teacher who engages in an abominable action and has lost his sense of discrimination is fit to be abandoned. Bhīṣma and Droṇa were obliged to take the side of Duryodhana because of his financial assistance, although they should not have accepted such a position simply on financial considerations. Under the circumstances, they have lost the respectability of teachers.”

In this way, Arjuna opens his mind to Kṛṣṇa, but at the same time, he quickly understands that these friendly talks would not lead him anywhere. Friends talk at the same level; therefore, rarely can a friend give a solution for a serious dilemma, even if he has the knowledge to do so. Friends can talk for a long time, arguing and counter-arguing, but this rarely leads to any real solution. In the case of Arjuna, the situation was pressing. There was no time for that.

Arjuna understood that Kṛṣṇa had the solutions for his dilemma, but to receive them, he would need to put Kṛṣṇa in a higher position so He would be free to correct him and speak the hard truth if necessary. And that’s what he did. With tears in his eyes, he begged Kṛṣṇa to become his spiritual master and help him to overcome his doubts. Talks between master and disciple are serious, and a spiritual master has the authority to correct his disciple when necessary.

Main points in the purports of Śrīla Prabhupāda:

“Arjuna said: O killer of enemies, O killer of Madhu, how can I counterattack with arrows in battle men like Bhīṣma and Droṇa, who are worthy of my worship?”

a) Arjuna argues that it is general etiquette that superiors are not to be offered even a verbal fight. How is it possible for him to counterattack them with weapons?

“It would be better to live in this world by begging than to live at the cost of the lives of great souls who are my teachers. Even though desiring worldly gain, they are superiors. If they are killed, everything we enjoy will be tainted with blood.”

a) Bhīṣma and Droṇa lost their respectability as teachers by siding with Duryodhana in all his evil acts because of financial assistance. According to the scriptures, a teacher who engages in abominable actions should be abandoned. Arjuna, however, thinks they remain his superiors and should not be killed.

“Nor do we know which is better – conquering them or being conquered by them. If we killed the sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra, we should not care to live. Yet they are now standing before us on the battlefield.”

a) If Arjuna did not fight, begging would be his only means of livelihood, but he was unsure about fighting and risking unnecessary violence. He considered that the situation was such that whether he won or lost the battle, in either case, he would lose, because winning would mean that his relatives would be killed. On top of that, he feared sinful reactions.

b) Arjuna’s willingness to live by begging, although he was a kṣatriya, proved he was a great devotee, with complete control of his mind and senses, and on a platform of detachment. On top of that, he was a great devotee, with faith in the instructions of the Lord. All these qualifications meant his doubts would be short-lived.

Read the entire book:
« The Song of God—Volume 1, chapters 1-6

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We hear that the holy names are Kṛṣṇa Himself. Therefore, when we chant Hare Kṛṣṇa, Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rama, Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare, we are not just reciting words, but we are in the presence of God Himself, who is all attractive, all powerful, eternally blissful, etc. The chanting is supposed to cleanse the heart, bring us spiritual bliss, and awaken love of God.

This philosophical understanding, however, often contrasts with our practical experience. Often we chant but feel nothing at all, or sometimes we may even feel uncomfortable. If the holy names are so powerful as we hear, why don't we immediately feel taste when we chant? Why do the words often flow mechanically while the mind wanders here and there?

Before giving up, concluding that “it doesn’t work for me”, you may consider these points:

a) The goal is not to feel bliss

It may look surprising at first, but the goal of chanting the holy names is not to feel happy, and this is an essential point we often get wrong. If I chant because this chanting is supposed to bring me happiness, chanting becomes a selfish act; I chant because I expect something out of it. Yes, a pure devotee feels spiritual bliss while chanting, but it’s important to understand the mechanism behind it.

Chanting is supposed to be an act of love, or at very least an offering. Kṛṣṇa likes to be glorified; therefore, we chant His names not as a transaction, but as a way to bring Him happiness. This attitude of service awakens our transcendental nature as souls, and this transcendental awakening brings us spiritual bliss. Contradictory as it may seem, spiritual bliss is awakened when we stop looking for it.

b) It takes some time

Suppose we feel some chronic pain. We go to the doctor, get diagnosed, and start a treatment to address the cause of it. We can’t expect that the pain will immediately go away. The treatment may take time, and the results may start to appear only later on.

Similarly, one may get some preliminary benefits early in the process of chanting, but the real thing comes only later, after months or years of practice, as we shred all the different layers of material contamination that cover us. That’s why a good philosophical understanding of the process is so important, so we can persist through this process. Medicine starts working before we feel relief, and fire burns even before there is a visible flame.

c) Often, quantity comes before quality

The process of chanting is based on two principles: quantity and quality. Ideally, both should come together. Haridāsa Thākura is not called the Nāmācārya simply because he chanted three lakhs daily, but because he could do that with such high purity. One could try to imitate the quantity, but would not be able to match the quality.

In this way, both quantity and quality are important, but we need to understand that quality comes from spiritual realization. As long as we are not purified, quality will not come from willpower alone. Trying to remain concentrated while chanting can help to a certain extent, but it only goes so far.

The difficulty is that often quality is too much emphasized, and we may get the idea that if we are not immediately chanting with taste, it means there is something wrong with us. Yes, in the absolute sense there are many things wrong, and that’s the reason we are here in the material world, but the problem is not exactly with the chanting.

In the Gītā, Kṛṣṇa explains that, “That which in the beginning may be just like poison but at the end is just like nectar and which awakens one to self-realization is said to be happiness in the mode of goodness.” True taste and spiritual bliss come from purification, which in turn comes from practicing the spiritual process long enough. Sometimes we feel something in the beginning as a confirmation from Paramātma inside the heart that this is the right path, but in general, the beginning is marked by difficulties, and the result comes only a little later.

There is also another point: the shadow of the holy names that is obtained in the association with advanced devotees. Often we go to chant japa in the temple in the morning, or attend a japa retreat, and we get some taste there. Then we go home, feel nothing, and think there is something wrong. Most of the time, there is nothing wrong; that’s exactly how it is supposed to be. We feel something in the temple or retreat not because our chanting suddenly improved, but just because of the association. If we can go every day, great; otherwise, we should be prepared to not get the same while chanting alone at home. This is an expected part of the process. The challenge is not to always have taste, but to persist in chanting even when the taste is absent.

When we go to Prabhupāda’s teachings, we see that most of the time he was emphasizing regulated chanting, and not immediate mystical experiences. See this conversation for example. Here he makes the point that we start from quantity, and this regulated practice eventually awakens taste for chanting:

“Brahmānanda: The quality of the chanting he’s asking. How can we make the quality the best?
Prabhupāda: Quality..., you’ll understand; first of all come to the quantity. Without having quantity, how he’ll understand the quality? You follow the instruction of your spiritual master, of the śāstra. That is your duty. Quality, no quality---it is not your position to understand. When the quality comes, there is no force. You will have a taste for chanting. You will desire at that time, “Why sixteen rounds? Why not sixteen thousand rounds?” That is quality. That is quality. It is by force. You’ll not do it; therefore at least sixteen rounds. But when you come to the quality, you will feel yourself, “Why sixteen? Why not sixteen thousand?” That is quality, automatically.”

Often everything we have to do to improve the quality of our chanting is to just chant more. If we are not able to remain focused while chanting 16 rounds, often the solution is to simply chant 24 or 32, or even more. We get better at what we do frequently. I personally have a great admiration for devotees who can chant just 16 rounds in a very concentrated way, but for me, it never worked. I start to concentrate better only when I chant more.

d) Taste comes only much later

There is a verse from the Caitanya Caritāmṛta (Madhya 23.14–15) which describes the progressive levels of devotional practice:

ādau śraddhā tataḥ sādhu-saṅgo ’tha bhajana-kriyā
tato ’nartha-nivṛttiḥ syāt tato niṣṭhā rucis tataḥ
athāsaktis tato bhāvas tataḥ premābhyudañcati
sādhakānām ayaṁ premṇaḥ prādurbhāve bhavet kramaḥ

The sequence is śraddhā → sādhu-saṅga → bhajana-kriyā → anartha-nivṛtti → niṣṭhā → ruci → āsakti → bhāva → prema.

Real taste comes in the stage of ruci, which is quite an advanced level. First one has to practice for a long time, conclude the anartha-nivṛtti stage, then practice more in the stage of niṣṭhā before finally attaining the stage of ruci. Yes, in the absolute sense, we all should develop spiritual taste, but it is a mistake to think it will come immediately from simply guided meditation.

Not many children have a taste for going to school. Interest usually comes later. Similarly, in the beginning we chant based on some preliminary faith in the spiritual master or in the devotees who are guiding us, because we made a vow, or because we intellectually understand that it is beneficial. This is not hypocrisy. This is the discipline that precedes spiritual realization.

That’s also a point Prabhupāda made on several occasions:

“In the beginning it may appear bitter, but when one advances, then he will see how pleasing it is. As soon as one understands his identity, his relationship with God, then immediately he becomes happy.” (London’s Conway Hall, in 1969)

Once, in the beginning of our movement, a lady-disciple mentioned to Prabhupāda that she was seeing lights whenever she started chanting. Prabhupāda said to continue chanting, and the lights would eventually disappear. If we are getting mystical experiences too early, it may be the result of illicit substances.

e) Spontaneous chanting

Another mistake is to think that authentic chanting must always be spontaneous. This is another point that is true in an advanced stage, but becomes disastrous when applied to a beginner.

Spontaneity without spiritual realization usually means following the mind. In the conditioned stage, we cannot trust the mind to do anything positive. The mind becomes a friend only much later, when our spiritual nature is finally awakened. Until then, beneficial spiritual activities are usually the result of a conscious choice. We don’t really feel like doing it, but still we do it, based on superior understanding, duty, commitment, or whatever may work.

Most of the time, lack of taste doesn’t mean something is wrong; it is a natural part of the process. In the beginning, there may be some taste coming and going according to our mental state, but this is not the real thing. Instead of pursuing this ephemeral taste based on the state of the mind, it is better to just focus on following the process and achieving factual realization.

f) Mechanical practice

On the other hand, however, there is a difference between regulated chanting and careless chanting.

Regulated chanting may feel mechanical because we chant at the same time, repeat the same mantra, etc. This is part of the process. Careless chanting is different. We rush, swallow syllables, chant while reading messages, or try to finish the rounds as fast as possible so we can continue our day. This is the habit we must learn to avoid.

g) Exhaustion

Often, we cannot chant properly simply because we are tired. That’s why we are generally advised to chant during the morning, when the mind is fresh. This is another point that may be difficult in the beginning, but if we get used to it, that can be highly beneficial. The mind is naturally predisposed to meditation shortly after we wake up. Ordinary people often just take a coffee to get over it, so they can immediately start their day, but if we can learn to recognize and use this state, that can become the best opportunity we will have for the whole day.

If we can go to sleep earlier and wake up one or two hours early, this can make miracles in our spiritual practice. Pure devotees can chant in love of Godhead at any time, but ordinary mortals chant better early in the morning.

h) The holy name is still acting

We should not judge the quality of our practice simply by the superficial state of the mind. Sometimes chanting may bring us immediate peace, but at other times it just exposes our internal agitation. Sometimes it brings enthusiasm, but at other times it exposes how little enthusiasm we have. Sometimes we feel taste; other times discomfort. All of this is normal, but it has little to do with the quality of our chanting. These are simply the superficial states of the mind; the chanting is acting on a much deeper level we often can’t notice.

In the beginning, what we perceive as “dry” or “sweet” chanting is simply a manifestation of the state of the mind. When we focus too much on it, we miss the real point. Instead of paying attention to how the mind perceives the chanting, we do better by simply focusing on the chanting itself.

The process of mantra meditation is based on fixing our attention on the transcendental vibration itself. “Sweet” or “dry” are simply adjectives introduced by the mind. These two things exist at different levels. When we choose to focus on the level of the chanting, the superficial emotions of the mind start to look distant. That’s the state we can really chant.

Go deeper:

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Preface

The Bhagavad-gītā is one of the foundational books of Kṛṣṇa consciousness, yet many readers find it difficult to grasp. Often, we understand individual verses but miss the overall progression, or we finish the book remembering the conclusion while forgetting most of the arguments that sustain it. In this way, although we study the Bhagavad-gītā As It Is, we often it often remains a book we fail to capture the complete thread of Kṛṣṇa’s teachings.

This book was written as a companion to Bhagavad-gītā As It Is by Śrīla Prabhupāda. It is not meant to replace the original text but to help you understand the structure, progression, and practical application of the teachings. Here, the verses are grouped and explained according to the natural progression of Kṛṣṇa’s argument, making it easier to see how one point leads to the next, how the different sections fit together, and how Śrīla Prabhupāda’s purports reveal the meaning and implications of each passage. Studying in this way, you can understand each verse individually while also capturing the thread of the conversation and seeing how everything comes together to form a unified message.

This work was structured around four principal goals:

1. To unpack Śrīla Prabhupāda’s commentary, revealing the depth of the text.

2. To show how the verses connect, helping you to follow the thread of the conversation and understand how the different parts of the Gītā form a unified message.

3. To offer summaries that help you remember the text and see how the broader sections connect.

4. To show how the teachings can be applied in practical life.

You may read this book from beginning to end as a continuous journey through the Gītā or go deeper, using it as a study guide alongside the Bhagavad-gītā As It Is. In either case, this book is meant to help you understand Kṛṣṇa’s teachings more clearly, appreciate Śrīla Prabhupāda’s explanations more deeply, and apply them in practical life.

Read the entire book:
« The Song of God—Volume 1, chapters 1-6

This is a publication for thoughtful readers who want to go deeper into Kṛṣṇa consciousness. I publish daily, trying to offer high-quality spiritual content, and all posts are available to free subscribers. If you wish, you can also choose a paid subscription to support this work.

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CHAPTER TWO:
Contents of the Gītā Summarized (Sāṅkhya-yoga)

In the first chapter, Arjuna gives moral, social, and religious arguments based on his previous knowledge. However, none of it can solve his dilemma. Having come to a dead end, he finally puts his bow aside and sits on the chariot, overwhelmed by grief. This creates the opening for Kṛṣṇa to instruct him in chapter two. First, Kṛṣṇa speaks as a friend, but when Arjuna surrenders as a disciple, Kṛṣṇa assumes the role of spiritual master and begins to give transcendental knowledge. This shows us the basic process for obtaining transcendental knowledge.

Śrīla Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura describes the second chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā as a summary of the entire text. The three main topics of the Gītā are karma-yoga, jñāna-yoga, and bhakti-yoga. Karma-yoga is the process of connecting our practical actions to the service of the Lord, while jñāna-yoga means the cultivation of transcendental knowledge as a process of connection with Him. Although defined as separate processes, they are better understood as progressive steps on the staircase leading to bhakti-yoga—the ultimate process of uncovering our original attitude of devotional service to the Lord. As Kṛṣṇa explains, one who achieves perfection on either the path of karma-yoga or jñāna-yoga achieves the result of both, which is elevation to the path of bhakti-yoga, pure devotional service.

In the second chapter, Kṛṣṇa explains both karma-yoga and jñāna-yoga through logical reasoning; hence, this chapter is called “Sāṅkhya-yoga.” The term Sāṅkhya is associated with two distinct philosophical systems: one taught by Lord Kapila, the son of Devahūti, and the other by the atheistic Kapila. However, the Sāṅkhya that Kṛṣṇa presents here is not directly connected with them. In this context, Sāṅkhya simply means “systematic knowledge,” the process of transcendental reasoning that brings us out of material conditioning by understanding the difference between spirit and matter and realizing our eternal, blissful nature.

Follow the study:

Read the entire book:
« The Song of God—Volume 1, chapters 1-6

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CHAPTER ONE:
Observing the armies on the battlefield of Kurukṣetra (Arjuna-viṣāda-yoga)

The first chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā is called Arjuna-viṣāda-yoga. The word viṣāda means lamentation or dejection. Arjuna was ready to perform his duty and fight in the battle of Kurukṣetra, but he faced a crisis when he saw the opposing army assembled on the battlefield, just as we may be left reeling after facing serious setbacks in life. However, difficulties can be positive if they bring us closer to Kṛṣṇa, and this is the meaning of the word yoga in the title.

Before Kṛṣṇa can give him transcendental knowledge, Arjuna must first reach the point where ordinary reasoning fails to give him a solution. His confusion thus represents the condition of all conditioned souls: we try to solve all problems using our own intelligence, but often we become perplexed, just like Arjuna. If in one of these moments we come in contact with the knowledge of the Bhagavad-gītā, this can change our whole existence.

In its true sense, yoga means a process that helps us to uncover our original spiritual nature, which is our eternal nature of loving service to the Lord. Arjuna’s moral and emotional crisis on the battlefield becomes the catalyst for Kṛṣṇa’s divine teachings, which will ultimately elevate him to the platform of pure devotional service. He will fight in the battle not just as a mundane duty, nor as a way to obtain material benefits or elevation to the heavenly planets, but as an act of devotional service, cooperating in the Lord’s divine mission.

Each of us has a special talent that is given to us by Kṛṣṇa, and using this talent for Him brings us to the perfection of life. The Bhagavad-gītā guides us in this process, and it all begins in the first chapter.

Follow the study:

• Setting the scene of the Gītā (Bg 1.1)

• Duryodhana speaks to Droṇācārya (Bg 1.2 to 1.9)

• The political game before the battle (Bg 1.10 and 1.11)

• Signs of victory: the sounding of the conchshells (Bg 1.12 to 1.19)

• Arjuna orders Kṛṣṇa (Bg 1.20 to 1.23)

• Arjuna sees the armies, and his heart shatters (Bg 1.24 to 1.27)

• Arjuna feels compassion and fear (Bg 1.28 to 1.29)

• The result of material attachment (Bg 1.30)

• Arjuna’s reasons for not fighting (Bg 1.31 to 1.39)

• How unwanted progeny destroys society (Bg 1.40 to 1.43)

• Arjuna decides not to fight (Bg 1.44 and 1.45)

• The perfect opportunity (Bg 1.46)

• Summary of the first chapter of the Gītā

Read the entire book:
« The Song of God—Volume 1, chapters 1-6

This is a publication for thoughtful readers who want to go deeper into Kṛṣṇa consciousness. I publish daily, trying to offer high-quality spiritual content, and all posts are available to free subscribers. If you wish, you can also choose a paid subscription to support this work.

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If you would like to contribute further, you can find the donation links here.

Preface

Through his translations and purports, Śrīla Prabhupāda brought Kṛṣṇa consciousness into modern society with a force and clarity never seen before, making the philosophy of Kṛṣṇa consciousness accessible to people of different countries, languages, and backgrounds. More than half a billion of his books have been distributed, and we will probably never understand the full impact they had on society.

At the same time, however, there are a number of passages in Prabhupāda’s teachings that can be hard to process. Among them are his statements about women being less intelligent than men, more lustful, less trustworthy, and so on. For some, these statements are distressing. For others, they appear to conflict with the deep respect, affection, and opportunities that Prabhupāda personally extended to his female disciples. Others simply try to avoid the discussion altogether, either by dismissing the statements as irrelevant or by trying to fanatically impose their view of them as absolute truth. Some become apologetic; others treat it as a public relations issue that has to be managed.

In this book, we try to avoid all these reactions. Rather, the purpose is to examine what Śrīla Prabhupāda actually said, what the purpose of such statements was, what kind of philosophical conclusions are behind them, and how they fit into his teachings.

The central idea of this study is that Śrīla Prabhupāda’s statements about women cannot be understood properly when we separate them from his broader teachings. He repeatedly taught that every living being is an eternal servant of Kṛṣṇa, beyond the temporary designations of male and female. On the spiritual platform, the soul is neither man nor woman. The real identity of every living being is spiritual, and we all have the same ultimate opportunity to revive our eternal connection with Kṛṣṇa.

At the same time, Śrīla Prabhupāda did not deny the reality of material conditioning. In one sense, the material world is temporary and illusory, but in another, we are here, and our actions in this life determine our destination. To go somewhere, we have to understand the vehicle we are using. Prabhupāda often spoke about the influence of the body, mind, senses, social habits, family responsibilities, and the different psychological tendencies of men and women. The fact that we are souls does not automatically cancel all physical, mental, and social implications.

This book is not meant to justify abuse or subjugation; we have already had more than enough in the history of our movement. It is, however, also not meant to support artificial independence. The goal is simply to remain faithful to Śrīla Prabhupāda’s teachings, explaining some of his most controversial passages in light of the philosophy he consistently taught.

Read the whole book:

+ Why does Prabhupāda say that women should not be given independence at any stage?

+ In what sense are women nine times more lusty?

+ Women like men who are “expert at rape”?

+ Are women, vaiśyas, and śūdras of lower birth?

+ A woman should follow a husband who is not fallen

+ Why did Prabhupāda say women are less intelligent?

+ Why does Prabhupāda use the word “prostitute”?

+ Are women untrustworthy?

+ “These women are not ordinary women”

+ The social implications of life in the material world

+ True equality

+ Women are also called Prabhu

This is a publication for thoughtful readers who want to go deeper into Kṛṣṇa consciousness. I publish daily, trying to offer high-quality spiritual content, and all posts are available to free subscribers. If you wish, you can also choose a paid subscription to support this work.

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Mahāprabhu is the ultimate authority on devotional service. Not only is He Kṛṣṇa Himself, but He is Kṛṣṇa in the role of a perfect devotee. There cannot thus be any mistake in His presentation of devotional service. However, an attentive reader may notice what appears to be a contradiction in His teachings. In his instructions to Śrīla Rūpa Gosvāmī, He mentions:

brahmāṇḍa bhramite kona bhāgyavān jīva
guru-kṛṣṇa-prasāde pāya bhakti-latā-bīja
mālī hañā kare sei bīja āropaṇa
śravaṇa-kīrtana-jale karaye secana

“According to their karma, all living entities are wandering throughout the entire universe. Some of them are being elevated to the upper planetary systems, and some are going down into the lower planetary systems. Out of many millions of wandering living entities, one who is very fortunate gets an opportunity to associate with a bona fide spiritual master by the grace of Kṛṣṇa. By the mercy of both Kṛṣṇa and the spiritual master, such a person receives the seed of the creeper of devotional service.”

“When a person receives the seed of devotional service, he should take care of it by becoming a gardener and sowing the seed in his heart. If he waters the seed gradually by the process of śravaṇa and kīrtana [hearing and chanting], the seed will begin to sprout.”(CC Madhya 19.151-152)

These two verses give the idea that devotional service is inherited, or in other words, it is received from the spiritual master when he becomes satisfied with the disciple.

If we go just three chapters ahead, however, in the teachings to Sanātana Gosvāmī, He appears to contradict Himself by stating:

nitya-siddha kṛṣṇa-prema ‘sādhya’ kabhu naya
śravaṇādi-śuddha-citte karaye udaya

“Pure love for Kṛṣṇa is eternally established in the hearts of the living entities. It is not something to be gained from another source. When the heart is purified by hearing and chanting, this love naturally awakens.” (CC Madhya 22.107)

This verse gives the idea that devotional service is inherent in the soul. It is already there as part of one’s eternal nature. It has only to be awakened.

As in other points, it appears to be a contradiction only until we understand the underlying principle behind both statements.

Prabhupāda gives us the clue in his purport to text 22.109:

“This love is already there within the heart of everyone (nitya-siddha kṛṣṇa-prema). Spontaneous service is not artificial. One simply has to come to that platform by rendering devotional service according to the regulative principles. Thus one has to practice hearing and chanting and follow the other regulative principles by washing the temple, cleansing oneself, rising early in the morning, attending maṅgala-ārati and so on. If one does not come to the platform of spontaneous service in the beginning, he must adopt regulative service according to the instructions of the spiritual master. This regulative service is called vaidhī bhakti.”

The two verses describe two separate analogies, which describe two essential details about the soul:

a) Love of Godhead is already there within the heart of everyone.

b) It has to be awakened through the process of devotional service, practiced under the guidance of the spiritual master.

The first point describes the eternal constitutional position of the soul of love for Kṛṣṇa. This is the basis for the whole explanation of Kṛṣṇa consciousness by Prabhupāda. This love of Godhead is eternally there, but in contact with material illusion, it can be temporarily covered or forgotten.

Different analogies are given to explain this point, not only by Prabhupāda, but by other ācāryas. One is someone sleeping, becoming absorbed in the dream and forgetting himself; another is someone losing something and being later reunited with the precious object by the grace of a benefactor. If something is forgotten or even lost, it doesn’t stop being ours, but we need help to remember or find it. This is the point explained in CC Madhya 22.107: Pure love for Kṛṣṇa is eternally established in the hearts of the living entities. It is not something to be gained from another source.

Why then do we need a spiritual master? He is the benefactor that reunites us with the lost treasure. He is the one who awakens us from the depths of ignorance, and he is the one who unties us when we can’t do it by ourselves. This process of reawakening our Kṛṣṇa consciousness is described in CC Madhya 19.151-152, which gives the analogy of a creeper watered by hearing and chanting penetrating the coverings of the universe and resting at the Lotus feet of the Lord.

As in other spiritual topics, the two analogies describe different sides of the same question and have to be understood simultaneously. When we try to flatten it into a single, simplistic explanation, we misunderstand.

This specific verses also clarify a number of points about the practice of devotional service we may have doubts about.

One misconception is that we don’t need anyone to become perfect in Kṛṣṇa consciousness; we just need to chant alone. This is possible only for pure devotees who have already become free from material desires. Not everyone is like Haridāsa Thākura. Prabhupāda makes this point in his purport to text 19.152:

“To live with devotees or to live in a temple means to associate with the śravaṇa-kīrtana process. Sometimes neophyte devotees think that they can continue the śravaṇa-kīrtana process without worshiping the Deity, but the execution of such śravaṇa-kīrtana is meant for highly developed devotees like Haridāsa Ṭhākura, who engaged in the śravaṇa-kīrtana process without worshiping the Deity. However, one should not falsely imitate Haridāsa Ṭhākura and abandon Deity worship just to try to engage in śravaṇa-kīrtana. This is not possible for neophyte devotees.”

The final goal is the same for everyone: always remember Kṛṣṇa and never forget Him. But the recommended way to do that may be different at different stages. A pure devotee may simply sit and chant the whole day, like Haridāsa Ṭhākura, but a neophyte simply can’t. It’s not a matter of willpower. One may be able to chant attentively for one and a half hours, or maybe two hours. The strategy at this stage is thus to combine this chanting with other activities connected with Kṛṣṇa. Deity worship is one of these activities and can be an especially demanding one. If a devotee worships the Deity following all the regulations, he or she will automatically remember Kṛṣṇa constantly. The same can be attained with other services. However, if we reject it prematurely to imitate Haridāsa Ṭhākura, it will probably not work so well. Such imitation usually comes from pride, while regulated devotional service requires humility.

There are other points mentioned in the same purport about the relationship with the spiritual master.

We hear that only by the mercy of the spiritual master can one go back to Godhead and attain pure devotional service. Hearing this, one may think that this is something capricious, that the spiritual master looks at one’s face and decides if he will give us love of Godhead or not. Prabhupāda, however, explains that it is not so:

“Endowed with the mercy of the Supreme Personality of Godhead, the spiritual master distributes the mercy to those who are elevated and pious. Thus the spiritual master trains his disciples to render devotional service unto the Supreme Personality of Godhead. This is called guru-kṛpā.”

The spiritual master wants to give love of Godhead to everyone, but he has to observe eagerness and qualification. He has thus to observe his disciples, guide them, and wait until the disciples become sufficiently qualified to receive the gift. It all starts with one’s eagerness to practice the process and to purify oneself.

Another point is that the devotional seed of the bhakti-latā-bīja is received from the spiritual master. Prabhupāda mentions:

“If one is not fortunate enough to receive the bhakti-latā-bīja from the spiritual master, he instead cultivates such seeds as karma-bīja, jñāna-bīja, or political, social or philanthropic bījas. However, the bhakti-latā-bīja is different from these other bījas. The bhakti-latā-bīja can be received only through the mercy of the spiritual master. Therefore one has to satisfy the spiritual master to get the bhakti-latā-bīja (yasya prasādād bhagavat-prasādaḥ). The bhakti-latā-bīja is the origin of devotional service. Unless one satisfies the spiritual master, he gets the bīja, or root cause, of karma, jñāna and yoga without the benefit of devotional service. But one who is faithful to his spiritual master gets the bhakti-latā-bīja.”

The first point here is that the spiritual master does not give the other seeds that fructify in the form of material activities; they are received from other people we may associate with. Everyone goes in a certain direction in life according to nature and association. One may try to become rich, another may try to do philanthropy, another may become degraded, etc. Just as one becomes a businessman by associating with businessmen, or a drunkard by associating with drunkards, one becomes a pure devotee by associating with pure devotees.

The point made here is that if we are not honest in our dealings with the spiritual master and not sincere in our practice, this duplicitous attitude may not be sufficient to award us the bhakti-plant, and much less nourish it. We thus end up only with the material seeds that gradually sprout and fructify, pulling us back to material life.

This is a point many may misunderstand, thinking that it is something capricious, that the spiritual master gives or does not give the devotional seed based on external worship, donations, etc. Every disciple has the duty of seeing and treating the spiritual master with all honor as a representative of Kṛṣṇa, but what really satisfies the spiritual master is that one is eager to serve Kṛṣṇa. That’s the qualification to receive Kṛṣṇa-prema. When he sees that the disciple is eager to serve Kṛṣṇa, he becomes very happy and gives him the seed of devotional service. Without it, we will receive some other seed from someone else, and we will go in a different direction.

In this way, the seed of devotional service does not bring something originally absent from the soul. Rather, it awakens what has been forgotten and gives it a practical direction. The spiritual master reminds us of our real identity, and guides us so that our original love for Kṛṣṇa can gradually manifest. There is no contradiction between saying that love of Godhead is eternally present in the heart and saying that the seed of devotional service must be received from the spiritual master. One statement describes what the soul eternally is; the other describes how the conditioned soul returns to that eternal position. The treasure is already ours, but without the mercy of Kṛṣṇa and the spiritual master, we may never find it.

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Kṛṣṇa speaks to Arjuna as a friend (Bg 2.1 to 2.3)

After Arjuna concludes his arguments and puts aside his bow, Kṛṣṇa finally speaks. Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna’s natural relationship is one of friendship; therefore, Kṛṣṇa starts by speaking in a friendly way, challenging Arjuna’s weakness, and reminding him of his duty as a kṣatriya.

Text 1: sañjaya uvāca
tam tathā kṛpayāviṣṭam, aśru-pūrṇākulekṣaṇam
viṣīdantam idam vākyam, uvāca madhusūdanaḥ

Sañjaya said: Seeing Arjuna full of compassion, his mind depressed, his eyes full of tears, Madhusūdana, Kṛṣṇa, spoke the following words.

Text 2: śrī-bhagavān uvāca
kutas tvā kaśmalam idam, viṣame samupasthitam
anārya-juṣṭam asvargyam, akīrti-karam arjuna

The Supreme Personality of Godhead said: My dear Arjuna, how have these impurities come upon you? They are not at all befitting a man who knows the value of life. They lead not to higher planets but to infamy.

Text 3: klaibyam mā sma gamaḥ pārtha, naitat tvayy upapadyate
kṣudram hṛdaya-daurbalyam, tyaktvottiṣṭha paran-tapa

O son of Pṛthā, do not yield to this degrading impotence. It does not become you. Give up such petty weakness of heart and arise, O chastiser of the enemy.

Dhṛtarāṣṭra was probably very happy to hear about Arjuna’s mood of renunciation. Arjuna was the most powerful commander on the side of the Pāṇḍavas, and if he abandoned the battle, their victory, by material calculation, would be almost certain.

However, Sañjaya disappointed him by referring to Kṛṣṇa as Madhusūdana. Previously, Kṛṣṇa had killed the demon Madhu, and thus He was perfectly qualified to kill Arjuna’s doubts and reinforce his will to fight. Arjuna had also called Kṛṣṇa Madhusūdana in chapter one, indicating that although he was in doubt about what to do, he was not giving up, but trusting that Kṛṣṇa would kill the demon of doubt inside his mind and show him the proper path to follow. Thus, the illusion of Arjuna is just temporary: he is in the process of surrendering to Kṛṣṇa, and when he surrenders, Kṛṣṇa will swiftly destroy his doubts. By acting on this knowledge, Arjuna will find the determination to fight to the best of his ability and defeat the army of Duryodhana. Sañjaya is thus very tactfully transmitting this truth to Dhṛtarāṣṭra. At the end of the Bhagavad-gītā, he will reveal that there is no hope for victory on the side of Duryodhana because Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna are on the other side.

For now, however, Arjuna is still addressing Kṛṣṇa as a friend, and Kṛṣṇa answers by playing the role of a friend, questioning how Arjuna could deviate from the principles of dharma in this way, refusing to fulfill his duty as a kṣatriya. He addresses Arjuna as Pārtha, the son of Pṛthā (or Kuntī, who is the sister of Kṛṣṇa’s father Vasudeva), reminding him of their family connection, and then as Parantapa (chastiser of the enemies), indicating that as such an exalted and powerful person, it was not befitting him to behave in such a way.

The family connection indicated by Kṛṣṇa also indicates another important concept in Vedic culture: social positions being based on qualification, not on heredity. As Kṛṣṇa makes clear later in the Bhagavad-gītā, the varṇāśrama system, based on the four social classes, was created by Kṛṣṇa Himself as a natural system for the proper working of society. One’s position as a brāhmaṇa, kṣatriya, vaiśya, or śūdra within the system is not based on lineage or ancestry, but on qualification. The son of a brāhmaṇa who doesn’t show qualifications similar to his father’s is called a brāhma-bandhu (a relative of a brāhmaṇa), and not a brāhmaṇa. Similarly, an unworthy kṣatriya who shows cowardice is called a kṣatriya-bandhu. By his words, Kṛṣṇa indicated his concern. Compassion is surely a noble principle, but the battle of Kurukṣetra was not the proper place to apply it.

As Prabhupāda mentions: “Arjuna was the most intimate friend of Kṛṣṇa, and Kṛṣṇa was directly guiding him on the chariot; but if Arjuna abandoned the battle, despite all these credits, he would be committing an infamous act. Therefore Kṛṣṇa said that such an attitude in Arjuna did not fit his personality.”

Kṛṣṇa defines the hesitancy of Arjuna as “anārya”, not befitting a person who knows the value of life. Originally, the word “ārya” denotes followers of Vedic culture, the learned people who would conduct their lives according to the teachings of the Vedas. They would form the developed societies and would contrast with the non-āryans, people outside Vedic culture who would generally be aborigines living in forests and mountains. Later, Hitler tried to appropriate this concept into all the insanity that followed, but this was a misrepresentation of the term. The word ārya does not denote a certain race, but followers of the spiritual culture of the Vedas.

As a friend, Kṛṣṇa manifested His concern, saying that such deviation from the principles of dharma would not bring any good result to Arjuna (leading not to higher planets but to infamy), and encouraging him by telling him to give up such petty weakness of heart and fight, as he was trained to do.

Main points in the purports of Śrīla Prabhupāda:

“Sañjaya said: Seeing Arjuna full of compassion, his mind depressed, his eyes full of tears, Madhusūdana, Kṛṣṇa, spoke the following words.”

a) Material compassion for the body comes from ignorance of one’s real nature as a soul. Compassion for the soul, however, is self-realization.

b) The body is like an outward dress for the soul, and thus, mere compassion for the body is compared to trying to save the clothes of a drowning man. When the soul has fallen into the material ocean of ignorance, merely saving the body will not help. Kṛṣṇa speaks the Bhagavad-gītā to dissipate this lamentation in both Arjuna and us.

“The Supreme Personality of Godhead said: My dear Arjuna, how have these impurities come upon you? They are not at all befitting a man who knows the value of life. They lead not to higher planets but to infamy.”

a) The Absolute Truth is understood at three levels: Brahman, Paramātmā, and Bhagavān, which can be compared to the three aspects of the sun: the sunshine, the sun as a disk in the sky, and the internal affairs of the planet. One who can enter into the sun and know what is going on there is the advanced student. Kṛṣṇa is directly Bhagavān, the Supreme Personality of Godhead; therefore, devotees who have realized Him are the topmost transcendentalists.

b) There are many powerful people in the universe, but only Kṛṣṇa can claim to possess all riches, all strength, all fame, all beauty, all knowledge, and all renunciation. Therefore, the full meaning of the word “bhagavān” is found in Kṛṣṇa only. Brahmā himself concludes in the Brahma-samhita that Kṛṣṇa is the Supreme Personality of Godhead, and there is no one equal to or above Him.

c) The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam describes: ete cāmśa-kalāḥ pumsaḥ, kṛṣṇas tu bhagavān svayam. There are many incarnations, who are plenary expansions or parts of the plenary expansions of the Supreme, but Kṛṣṇa is the Supreme Personality of Godhead Himself.

d) In the personal presence of Kṛṣṇa, Arjuna’s lamentation was unbefitting; therefore, Kṛṣṇa expressed His surprise: kutaḥ, where from? Such deviation from duty was not expected from a follower of the Vedas such as Arjuna; therefore, it is described as befitting the non-āryans.

“O son of Pṛthā, do not yield to this degrading impotence. It does not become you. Give up such petty weakness of heart and arise, O chastiser of the enemy.”

a) Kṛṣṇa calls Arjuna the son of Pṛthā, emphasizing his exalted lineage. Kṛṣṇa did not want Arjuna to become a kṣatriya-bandhu, an unworthy son of a kṣatriya. If Arjuna abandoned the battle, he would be committing an infamous act.

b) Arjuna spoke about abandoning the battle on the grounds of compassion for his relatives, but Kṛṣṇa dismissed it as mere weakness of heart.

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In the Caitanya Caritāmṛta (Madhya 19.149), it is mentioned:

“Because a devotee of Lord Kṛṣṇa is desireless, he is peaceful. Fruitive workers desire material enjoyment, jñānīs desire liberation, and yogīs desire material opulence; therefore they are all lusty and cannot be peaceful.”

This verse calls our attention to a very important topic: the real path to happiness.

Many think of happiness in terms of money. They work hard, thinking that more money will bring them more happiness, but we see that not many actually become happy through this process. Not only is money difficult to come by, but even when one’s economic situation factually improves, there is still no guarantee of happiness.

One of the central problems is that no matter how much we have, we will always look around and see someone who has more. This explains why even billionaires don’t stop working. They continually try to get another billion, then another. A second factor is that having something does not mean it is ours eternally. Therefore, we are always in anxiety, thinking we may lose it. Even after securing money and other assets, we need to continue working as hard, if not more, to maintain it. This brings anxiety that also prevents us from being happy.

Then, there is a third problem: eventually we lose it. Nothing is eternal here. We may lose it during our lives or at death, but loss is guaranteed, and loss means suffering. Therefore, achieving a certain position in this world is more like a loan: we get something now, but it comes at the cost of suffering later.

The only way to become fully happy and peaceful is by giving up material desire, because this is what allows us to become fully happy on the spiritual platform.

On the spiritual platform, these three problems do not exist. First, anything that is obtained on the spiritual platform is ours forever. It is never lost. When Viṣnu blessed Dhruva with his own spiritual planet, Dhruvaloka, the passage clearly mentions that this planet is his forever, surviving even the final annihilation of the universe. In the spiritual platform, there is no separation; there is no degradation, and it is always better than we expected.

Understanding this point, the next question is: How to become desireless? How is this even possible?

The answer is that this is possible on the platform of Kṛṣṇa consciousness. As Prabhupāda explains in his purport to text 149:

“One who simply understands that throughout the entire universe Kṛṣṇa is the supreme enjoyer and beneficiary of all kinds of sacrifices, penances and austerities, which should be performed only to attain His devotional service, that Kṛṣṇa is the Supreme Being and thus the proprietor of all the material worlds, and that Kṛṣṇa is the only friend who can actually do good to all living entities (suhṛdaṁ sarvabhūtānām) — one who understands these three principles about Kṛṣṇa immediately becomes desireless (niṣkāma) and therefore peaceful.”

If one comes to this niṣkāma platform, one can live happily even here in the material world. If one comes to the platform of love for Kṛṣṇa, material things become stale, and one stops desiring them without a separate effort. A hungry person may dream about bread, but one who has a pizza finds dry bread unattractive.

Being free from desires, a pure devotee always remains in contact with Kṛṣṇa, and therefore, his stay in the material world is merely technical. We may say that he has a material body and lives with us, and this may be technically correct, but in practice he is already living in the spiritual world, away from the miseries we face here. He may be living with us, but his experience is radically different.

One question we can have at this point is that although it is relatively easy to understand that money in itself doesn’t bring happiness, it is much harder not to desire material happiness in the form of health, family, friends, etc. Not many would agree to live a solitary life of hardships, even if promised eternal happiness.

The point is that this is not necessary. We don’t need to reject our family or give up health; we just need to give up the idea that these are prerequisites for our happiness, because these things are also temporary, just as money or property. We may be attached to our family, but eventually our parents pass away, the children grow up, economic crises wipe out our savings, etc. Similarly, health inevitably goes away as we become older. Affection is natural, but if our happiness is connected with things remaining as they are, we will inevitably have to experience suffering.

What is the solution then? We need to learn to observe things without being attached, understanding that they are temporary. There is something to be learned, and there are goals to be achieved, but the situation in itself will pass, and there is no way to stop this process.

In the Gītā, Kṛṣṇa gives us a practical process to achieve that: cultivate our Kṛṣṇa consciousness while simultaneously performing our material duties. Contrary to what one may think at first, performing our duties does not make us more attached; it’s the opposite. Performing our duties, acting dutifully as a husband, wife, father, mother, etc., helps us to see family life and other situations in this world as a responsibility and not just as a form of enjoyment. A man may chase women in the street as long as he has the idea he can enjoy them freely, but when he is forced to think in terms of marriage and responsibility, the attitude immediately changes.

A useful comparison is a job because it invokes a similar detached mentality. We go to work every day, and we experience happiness and challenges there. We don’t deliberately try to avoid relationships with colleagues, and we build a whole story there. However, when retirement comes, we don’t lament. On the opposite, we welcome it, seeing it as an opportunity to finally do the things we were unable to do previously because the job was occupying so much of our time. Similarly, if we follow the formula of Kṛṣṇa consciousness combined with detached work Kṛṣṇa gives us in the Gītā, we can go through life cultivating a higher taste, and, when the time to go arrives, we will be able to see it with the same detached mentality, seeing it as an opportunity to finally serve Kṛṣṇa without obstructions.

We can develop a similar detached mentality in relation to health. We tend to think that health is a natural situation, something to be expected, and to have some pain or disease is unnatural, something that has to be solved. This is actually correct in the spiritual platform if we consider our original nature as souls. The soul is always healthy, happy, and blissful. The problem is that we try to apply the same expectancy to the material body, which has a different nature.

When we understand that pain, suffering, and anxiety are actually the nature of this world, we don’t become surprised when they come. We do what is reasonable to try to maintain the body and mind in a healthy condition so we can perform our activities, but we don’t become surprised when difficulties appear. We can thus face pain with a similar detached mentality: “I have pain. Yes, that is what having a material body means. That is how it is.”

The question then is not having pain or not, but whether something can be done or if this is simply the way it is. If that is the way it is, then we may just accept the condition and continue our lives, seeing that by our practice of Kṛṣṇa consciousness, we are gradually threading the path that will make us free from it.

If instead we become focused on the pain, we may end up living inside the doctor’s office, and we may end up experiencing much more suffering due to side effects of medications, repeated interventions, and constant anxiety.

A final question is why devotees have to experience material difficulties at all. Why can’t Kṛṣṇa just make everything easy for them? There are several complementary answers here. One is that difficulties are just the nature of this world, and they are thus unavoidable for anyone who comes here, just as heat is inseparable from a visit to the Sahara desert. Another point, however, is that Kṛṣṇa sees in the long term, and thus His arrangements have other priorities apart from mere immediate comfort. The point is not to make prison comfortable, but to get out of it.

For example, Citraketu was the king of the Vidyādhara planet. He was living in great opulence, with many beautiful women around him. Because he was a pure devotee, he remained pure even in this situation, using his time to always chant the holy names. The question is that, as a demigod, his life was extraordinarily long, and he would have to wait all this time before having an opportunity to go back home, back to Godhead. Kṛṣṇa, however, found a shortcut. He inspired Pārvatī to curse him to become a demon so he could quickly take a last birth as Vṛtrāsura, be killed by Indra, and then go back to Godhead.

Hearing the story, one may question how Kṛṣṇa could allow his devotee to be cursed and become a demon, but that was Kṛṣṇa’s arrangement to get him out of jail. Even as a demon, Citraketu remained perfectly Kṛṣṇa conscious, and when he was finally freed from his material body, he was ready to depart.

Similarly, Prabhupāda lost his business and lost all his money. Kṛṣṇa simply wanted him to do something much better, becoming the Ācārya of the Kṛṣṇa Consciousness movement instead of remaining with a family that was not seriously interested in Kṛṣṇa consciousness. This can give us the right perspective when we also have to face difficulties.

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One of the problems of the material world, especially in contemporary society, is that people can’t be completely open with each other. Honest and good-natured people are frequently cheated, and thus even the best people have to learn to build their defenses to be able to live in society.

When we come to Kṛṣṇa Consciousness, we frequently lower our guard, thinking that all devotees are saints. Many indeed are, but unfortunately not all. Many materialistic people pose as devotees, and these can be quite dangerous. There are also devotees who are quite sincere but not yet at a level where they can break with their negative materialistic tendencies and thus can still be prone to cheating others.

In the introduction to the Śrī Īśopaniṣad, Śrila Prabhupāda explains that a conditioned soul has four defects: the tendency to commit mistakes, the propensity to be in illusion, imperfect senses and intelligence, and the propensity to cheat others. We are all trying to get rid of such defects, but unfortunately, they can follow us quite far in spiritual life.

Lowering our guard when we start our spiritual lives can allow us to advance by associating with pure Vaiṣnavas, if we have the good fortune of meeting them, but also puts us at risk of being exploited by so-called Vaiṣnavas. Unfortunately, we can see that sincere people often become burned after being cheated by people they trusted.

It would be good if our movement were a perfect society, composed of only perfect people, or if we could at least protect good-natured people from all bad elements, but unfortunately, we are not there yet. It is still a mixed bag. As a result, betrayal is something most of us face at some point in our spiritual lives.

Often we see spiritual life as an escape from all the difficulties of the world. This idea can help us in the beginning, but it has to be later balanced with the understanding that spiritual societies and movements also have problems. This can be noticed both in ISKCON and other Vaiṣnava groups. That’s a human trace that transcends spiritual institutions. It is thus not a critique, but a simple matter of observation. Progressing requires us to acknowledge these deficiencies and learn how to deal with them. Without this maturity, we may try to close our eyes and maintain an attitude of blind faith longer than we should, and then decide to go back to material life when the shortcomings become undeniable.

Another mistake in this phase is to try to correct everything that is wrong around us. While this tendency can be highly positive for one in a position of leadership, for most of us it is actually not so beneficial. Things are the way they are because we are dealing with conditioned souls who are prone to committing mistakes, being egotistical, etc. Without solving the main problem (bringing people to a transcendental platform), it’s not possible to solve these problems just by activism. To bring people to a transcendental platform, the first step is for us to reach such a platform. Therefore, counterintuitive as it may seem, the best way to solve the problems of society is to step back and focus on our practice. When we come to an advanced platform, we will finally be able to understand the problems and contribute to their solution. If nothing else, we will be able to solve our own problems by going back to Godhead, which is also not a bad outcome.

Here are a few points that can help to maintain balance in spiritual practice:

a) Simplicity does not mean naivety.

It is described that a devotee should be humble and meek. Simplicity is another quality that is emphasized. This, however, does not mean we should be naive and trust blindly anyone and everyone just because one wears a devotional dress.

b) Respect is different from trust.

We should respect all devotees, and in fact everyone. Kṛṣṇa lives in every body as Paramātmā, and every soul is His part and parcel. Everyone thus is worthy of respect. However, respect is different from trust, which is formed based on three C’s: character, conduct, consistency.

Everyone should be respected, but it does not mean we should automatically trust someone in important questions, and especially not automatically trust based on status, position, etc. Many are not trustworthy; others may be well-intentioned, but not have the necessary maturity, and so on.

c) Discrimination is part of spiritual advancement.

The Nectar of Instruction text five explains that we should deal with different devotees according to their level of advancement. We should mentally offer respects to everyone but should associate with devotees who are advanced in devotional service and whose hearts have been cleansed. In fact, such distinction is part of the transition from the neophyte to the intermediate stage, as mentioned in both NOI 5 and SB 11.2.46.

d) Material skill should not be confused with spiritual advancement.

Much of what we do externally is connected with material skills we may have and is not necessarily the product of spiritual advancement. The fact someone can speak eloquently, chant well, remember verses, etc., does not necessarily mean one is a pure devotee. One can thus be a great speaker or kirtaniya and remain irresponsible, emotionally immature, etc. These two things should not be seen as contradictory.

e) Forgiveness should not automatically restore trust.

We may forget someone who took money from us and did not pay it back, but this doesn’t mean we should trust again. We may forget someone who misused a position of authority, but this does not mean we should put him back there. Forgiveness frees us from carrying resentment; rebuilding trust is a different matter entirely. Again, trust should come from the three C’s: character, conduct, consistency.

f) Mercy is not negligence

Similarly, forgiving does not mean that an offender should become free from accountability. A person who misused a position of trust should not be put back there and given the chance of again harming others. Forgiving is an internal decision; it means we give up carrying resentment. It does not mean one should not be punished for what was done or not prevented from doing the same again in the future.

g) The scriptures can be used against us

Dishonest people may selectively use passages from the scriptures to manipulate or defend themselves, invoking surrender, humility, service, vaiṣṇava-aparādha, etc., when the real goal is to manipulate others and suppress legitimate questions. By properly understanding the scriptures, we can notice the difference. A genuine authority does not fear reasonable questions.

h) The other extreme

One problem is naivety: to blindly trust everyone and be hurt in the process. That’s what this article is about. Another issue, however, is cynicism: to go on the opposite extreme and start thinking all devotees are bad. This is what this article is meant to protect from.

i) Activism can also become a distraction.

This is an important counterbalancing point. One thing is to maintain accountability and protect others. However, there is another extreme: to criticize for the sake of criticizing or to start trying to correct everything and everyone. This can easily feed pride, anger, faultfinding, etc., destroying our spiritual practice. We should also keep this distinction in mind.

j) Painful experiences can produce maturity.

Finishing on a positive note, any experience can become ultimately positive if we can learn from it. Often, negative experiences can teach us to distinguish real sadhus from imitators and help us to grow more mature. We should always remember that counterfeits exist because the genuine article has value. Mundane people tend to try to pose as pure devotees exactly because genuine spiritual realization is valuable and commands respect. The fact that there are so many fakes around should help us to value the real.

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💬 Text of the lesson

The orbit of the sun

The orbit of the sun around Bhū-mandala takes one year for us and is divided into two halves (when the sun moves through the south and north of the planetary system). For us, these two halves represent summer and winter, but for the demigods, it represents day and night. In this way, one year for the demigods equals 360 years for us, and the 10,000 years of a lifetime in Svargaloka equals 3,600,000 years of our time.

This is confirmed by Prabhupāda in his purport:

“The movement of the sun is confirmed in the Brahma-saṁhitā (5.52): yasyājñāya bhramati saṁbhṛta-kāla-cakraḥ. The sun orbits around Mount Sumeru, for six months on the northern side and for six months on the southern. This adds up to the duration of a day and night of the demigods in the upper planetary systems.”

As Prabhupāda mentions in his purport to text 30, this movement of the sun is described by Lord Brahmā himself in his prayers in the Śrī Brahma-saṁhitā: yasyājñayā bhramati sambhṛta-kāla-cakro. The sun performs its journey mounting the wheel of time. This movement of the sun around Mount Sumeru is thus a key element in Vedic cosmology, because it is connected with the very passage of time due to the influence of kāla (time), the divine potency of the Lord.

In modern cosmology, the movements of the planets are explained from a heliocentric perspective, where the sun is orbited by the planets of our solar system, while simultaneously wobbling in an almost circular orbit around the center of the galaxy. Vedic cosmology also gives us a valid model for explaining days and nights, as well as the passages of the seasons and the movements of the stars. It is, however, based on a geocentric model that puts our planet at the center, as part of Bhū-mandala, with the sun, all the stars and other cosmic structures, as well as the other planets of the solar system orbiting this structure.

This may sound illogical at first. Why believe that the whole universe orbits around our planet? Doesn’t it make more sense to believe the opposite, as in modern cosmology?

Here is a point one may consider: when we look to the sky, we see only the relative motions of the sun, moon, stars, and planets, but practically speaking, we can’t tell experimentally what is orbiting around what.

Modern cosmology concludes that the earth orbits the sun based on the study of gravity. The Vedas also accept the influence of gravity, defining it as the potency of Lord Ananta, which maintains all the planets in their particular orbits. However, the Vedas make the point that the universe operates under the will of the Lord, not under mechanical forces. Our planet has a central role in the cosmos, because it is the place where the souls create a new set of karma that will define their destiny. It is also the place chosen by the Lord when He personally descends to play His pastimes, and the place where His divine abodes of Vṛndāvana, Jagannātha Pūri, Navadvīpa, etc. manifest. If He decides that the intermediate planetary system will have the form of a cosmic lotus and not only the sun but all the stars should orbit around it, who can prevent it?

Prabhupāda makes the point that the descriptions given in the Vedas should be given precedence over empirical observations, since, even though empirical observation is also a valid method for obtaining knowledge, it is imperfect, and it often results in errors, while the statements of the Vedas come from perfect sources, starting from God himself.

A few points that can be mentioned to support this point:

a) During medieval times, many believed the earth was flat, while the Vedas explained it as a sphere since the beginning, giving formulas to calculate its circumference and the distance to the moon and other astral bodies.

b) In 1929, Hubble calculated the age of our universe at about 2 billion years. Later, in 1958, Sandage put it between 4 and 18 billion years. In 2003, a study conducted by Spergel brought it to 13.7 billion years, a number that was raised to 13.75 billion in 2011 (Komatsu), 13.772 billion in 2013 (Bennet et al.), 13.799 billion in 2015 (Lawrence), and finally 13.801 billion in 2018 (Aghanim et al.). The value given in the Vedas, however, remains constant since the beginning: 13.819 billion years.

As we can see, the number given in different studies has gradually increased over time, as the methodology and data of the studies were improved. The difference is already less than 0.15% from the value given in the Vedas. It may be that in the future new studies put the numbers even closer, or even give exactly the same number.

c) The idea of multiple universes has existed for a long time in the field of science fiction, but it started gaining serious traction in scientific circles only in the 1980s, with the development of inflationary cosmology. Guth introduced the idea of cosmic inflation in 1981, and later developments by Linde showed that inflation can naturally produce multiple bubble universes. The multiverse theory gained further traction in the 1990s and 2000s, as string theory evolved. The Vedas, however, have been stating since the beginning that, vast as it may be, our universe is just one amongst millions of other bubble-like universes floating in the causal ocean.

Just as the idea of our universe existing for billions of years and being just one amongst millions of other universes would sound utterly absurd to a medieval mind, other ideas proposed in the Vedas may sound incoherent to us. However, as our understanding increases, not only in terms of experimental knowledge, but in terms of spiritual insight, the explanations given in the Vedas start to make more sense to us.

In any case, even if one is more comfortable with the universal model given in modern cosmology, with the earth orbiting the sun and the sun orbiting the center of the galaxy, it is undeniable that the cosmological model of the Vedas still corresponds to what we see when we look into the sky, and therefore, it is still a valid description of the universe. One can thus still appreciate the practical way it describes the movements of the sun, planets, and other luminaries, and its spiritual significance.

Ultimately, the goal of the description of the universe given in the Vedas is to help us to see Kṛṣṇa, the Absolute Truth, behind everything, just as He describes in the Gītā:

“I am the Supersoul, O Arjuna, seated in the hearts of all living entities. I am the beginning, the middle and the end of all beings. Of the Ādityas I am Viṣṇu, of lights I am the radiant sun, of the Maruts I am Marīci, and among the stars I am the moon. Of the Vedas I am the Sāma Veda; of the demigods I am Indra, the king of heaven; of the senses I am the mind; and in living beings I am the living force [consciousness]. Of all the Rudras I am Lord Śiva, of the Yakṣas and Rākṣasas I am the Lord of wealth [Kuvera], of the Vasus I am fire [Agni], and of mountains I am Meru. Of priests, O Arjuna, know Me to be the chief, Bṛhaspati. Of generals I am Kārttikeya, and of bodies of water I am the ocean. Of the great sages I am Bhṛgu; of vibrations I am the transcendental oṁ. Of sacrifices I am the chanting of the holy names [japa], and of immovable things I am the Himālayas. Of all trees I am the banyan tree, and of the sages among the demigods I am Nārada. Of the Gandharvas I am Citraratha, and among perfected beings I am the sage Kapila.”(Bg 10.20-26)

Kṛṣṇa is the essence of everything, and the chief amongst all classes and groups. When we start seeing Him in all powerful material manifestations, we start seeing the reality behind this illusory cosmic manifestation. The sun as orbiting the earth, or the earth as orbiting the sun is just a matter of convention, since in any case these are relative motions. It doesn’t change the fact that the goal of life is self-realization.

The periodic table in multiple dimensions

One central idea in the model of the Vedic universe that is different from what is believed in modern science is the concept of different dimensions, from gross to subtle, which explains the existence of the different structures and planetary systems described in the Vedas, such as Bhū-mandala, and their connection with our gross reality.

For example, the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam describes the structure of matter in several passages, but it is always described in terms of the five elements (earth, water, fire, air, and ether) instead of a periodic table, as in modern chemistry. As already mentioned, the reason for that is that it’s the only model that makes it possible to describe matter at all levels, not only in our gross reality.

According to the Vedas, reality exists on several different levels, going from gross (where matter is composed of atoms) to subtle (where matter assumes more refined forms). We live on a gross material level, and the demigods live on different gradations of subtle material levels. Just as we can’t see demigods such as Indra and Surya unless they assume forms visible to us, they can’t see higher beings such as Nārada or the Four Kumāras unless they assume forms visible to them. The subtlest material level exists in Brahmaloka, where reality is so subtle that there is practically no matter at all. Outside the universe, there is the spiritual level, which is still higher and subtler, inaccessible even to the inhabitants of Brahmaloka.

For example, in the Vedas, the moon is described as a celestial planet, higher than the sun in the subtle scale. However, when we go there, we see only rocks and dust, because the matter that composes that level of reality is too subtle for us to experience.

In each separate level of existence, matter exists in a form that is not recognizable to inhabitants of the previous level. We have thus the gross level, observable to us, where matter is composed of atoms, as studied in chemistry; we have the subtle level of the demigods and demons; we have the still subtler level of the hellish planets, controlled by Yamarāja; and then the astral levels of Maharloka, Janaloka, Tapoloka, and Satyaloka, which offer progressively subtler reality. To advance to each subsequent level, one has to elevate his consciousness accordingly and assume an appropriate body. However, although matter assumes more refined forms as we go upwards, it still conserves the same properties; people still see, touch, hear, etc., even in the highest level of Satyaloka. That’s thus the only reliable way to classify matter over the different parts of the cosmos.

This concept is indirectly supported in modern cosmology by the concept of dark matter. According to recent studies, about 85% to 95% of our universe is composed of dark matter and dark energy, different types of matter not composed of atoms or detectable forms of energy. The Vedas explain it in terms of the subtle forms of matter that compose the abodes of the demigods and structures like Bhū-mandala, while modern science is still trying to figure out what it may be.

The idea of multiple dimensions (as different levels of reality in the same space) is currently discussed only in science fiction, but it may be the next Vedic concept to be acknowledged in scientific circles, just as the concept of multiple universes is.

What matter really is?

The idea of an illusory universe composed of multiple dimensions may sound hard to believe at first. We tend to see things around us as tangible objects composed of solid matter. When we see things in this way, they appear to be very real, and we may question how other levels of reality can exist at all. We may be able to accept the difference between matter and spirit, accepting that the soul is something else entirely, but accepting that someone can have a body that is invisible to us may sound too much to believe. However, this is supported by material science itself.

We learn in school that atoms are actually mostly empty space, electrons circling a nucleus like a mini-solar system. However, even this picture is outdated. The nucleus is not a solid core, and the electrons are not really particles circling it. The current view is that electrons are not like tiny balls, but more like waves of electric charge (quantum objects that appear in certain regions around the nucleus), and the nucleus itself is also not solid matter, but also composed of smaller components held together by powerful interactions. In other words, an atom is not a little mechanical solar system, but mostly empty space structured by fields and interactions. It feels solid when we touch things, but in reality that solidity is mostly the result of electromagnetic forces and quantum effects acting within atoms that are almost entirely empty space.

When I hold a metal ball in my hand, it feels solid, but it feels that way because my hand is made of matter with the same basic atomic structure. The atoms in the ball resist being compressed by the atoms in my hand. If my hand were made of the same ultra-dense matter that physicists believe exists inside black holes, the ball of metal would not feel solid at all. It would simply collapse and almost disappear before I would even touch it, like a ball of styrofoam in contact with fire. If my hand were made of neutrinos or gamma rays, it would pass through the ball without affecting it much, just like the hand of a ghost, and these are just two examples based on types of matter that are studied in modern physics. If we accept the version of the Vedas, of different types of matter that have entirely different structures that don’t at all interact, the idea of people with bodies that are invisible to us sounds even more natural. We think of matter around us as something solid and real, but in reality, it is nothing like this.

Modern physics also explains that a vacuum is also not simply nothing. That’s another idea we learn in school that is outdated. What we call a vacuum may contain no ordinary matter, but the underlying fields of nature are still present. Even in their lowest state, these fields can fluctuate and produce measurable effects. So, what appears as empty space can still have physical properties: it is not a solid substance, but it is not mere nothingness either. It is the structured background in which particles, forces, and interactions appear, like a stage with no actors currently standing on it. The stage may be empty, but it still has structure, rules, and possibilities, and can influence how the actors move and interact. If we think about it, it sounds a lot like the explanation of the ether element given in the Vedas.

So, modern physics explains that matter is not really solid, and space is not really empty. That sounds quite similar to what we study in Vedic metaphysics, as explained by Lord Kapila in the Third Canto.

But it gets better. Imagine a second kind of matter that does not use the same forces that ordinary atoms use to resist contact. It’s not like antimatter, which destroys ordinary matter, but something neutral that would just not directly interact with it. This type of matter would not push back against the atoms in a wall because there would be almost no interaction between them. As a result, it would pass through ordinary matter like a ghost. Still, it would not be unreal: its particles could still interact strongly with one another through a different set of forces, allowing it to form solid objects of its own kind. People living in a world composed of this different type of matter would touch things and interact with other people; their reality would feel solid to them, just as our reality feels solid to us, but we would not be able to see them at all.

Now, imagine several other kinds of matter, some that do not interact at all with matter in our plane, others that interact weakly, some that interact with others but not with us, and so on. It starts getting quite close to the concept of the different planetary systems as different levels of reality which I have been describing here.

Lokāloka: The edge of the observable universe

“Thereafter, beyond the ocean of sweet water and fully surrounding it, is a mountain named Lokāloka, which divides the countries that are full of sunlight from those not lit by the sun.

Beyond the ocean of sweet water is a tract of land as broad as the area between the middle of Mount Sumeru and the boundary of Mānasottara Mountain. In that tract of land there are many living beings. Beyond it, extending to Lokāloka Mountain, is another land, which is made of gold. Because of its golden surface, it reflects light like the surface of a mirror, and any physical article that falls on that land can never be perceived again. All living entities, therefore, have abandoned that golden land.

Between the lands inhabited by living entities and those that are uninhabited stands the great mountain which separates the two and which is therefore celebrated as Lokāloka.

By the supreme will of Kṛṣṇa, the mountain known as Lokāloka has been installed as the outer border of the three worlds — Bhūrloka, Bhuvarloka and Svarloka — to control the rays of the sun throughout the universe. All the luminaries, from the sun up to Dhruvaloka, distribute their rays throughout the three worlds, but only within the boundary formed by this mountain. Because it is extremely high, extending even higher than Dhruvaloka, it blocks the rays of the luminaries, which therefore can never extend beyond it.

Learned scholars who are free from mistakes, illusions and propensities to cheat have thus described the planetary systems and their particular symptoms, measurements and locations. With great deliberation, they have established the truth that the distance between Sumeru and the mountain known as Lokāloka is one fourth of the diameter of the universe — or, in other words, 125,000,000 yojanas [1 billion miles]. (SB 5.20.34-38)

Outside of Puṣkaradvīpa, there is an ocean of sweet water, which is, again, as broad as the island itself. Beyond this ocean, there is another island, the largest of all, which extends all the way to the Lokāloka mountains that mark the boundary of the illuminated part of the universe.

This huge island is, in turn, divided into two areas, without a new ocean between them. The internal part is inhabited land, the abode of many living entities, while the outer part is deserted.

The inhabited part of the island is as broad as the area from Mount Sumeru to the middle of Mānasottara Mountain in Puṣkaradvīpa, and the uninhabited part, the bhūmiḥ kāñcanī (golden land) mentioned in the text, is even broader.

This mysterious, uninhabited land is described in the text as “adarśa-talopamā yasyāṁ prahitaḥ padārtho na kathañcit punaḥ pratyupalabhyate”. The first quality is that the surface is perceived as being just like the surface of a mirror. This indicates one can’t properly see while there. The second is that although one can perceive an object held in one’s hand, as soon as this object is dropped, it can’t be again found by any means. The word kathañcit indicates that not only vision fails, but other senses, like touch, hearing, and taste, become unusable.

This indicates that this is not simple a place with a gold-like surface, but a place where ordinary sense perception fails. Due to this, it is described that no one lives there. This indicates that this mysterious golden marks a place where the conditions that sustain ordinary life cease to exist.

Outside of it are what are described as a cosmic range of mountains, the mysterious Lokāloka. These mountains are described as going as high as Dhruvaloka. In other words, they encapsulate the whole inhabited area of the universe, both horizontally and vertically. It is clear that these are not ordinary mountains composed of rock, but some kind of structure composed of some very subtle form of matter or energy, rather than a solid barrier.

Beyond Lokāloka is Aloka-varṣa, a completely uninhabited region that is not reached by the light of the sun or none of the stars. Lokāloka is thus similar in concept to what is discussed in modern cosmology as the Cosmic light horizon, the very edge of the universe. Beyond that is an area beyond ordinary illumination, perception, and habitation. Beyond this area are the coverings of the universe, and beyond the last covering is the Causal ocean (Kāraṇodaka), where Lord Mahā-Viṣnu resides.

In the pastime in which Arjuna brings back the sons of the brāhmaṇa who had been taken by Mahā-Viṣnu, Krsna guides Arjuna through this whole region, reaching the causal ocean, where Kṛṣṇa gives darśana to Mahā-Viṣnu Himself.

This episode is described in the Tenth Canto:

“Having thus advised Arjuna, the Supreme Personality of Godhead had Arjuna join Him on His divine chariot, and together they set off toward the west. The Lord’s chariot passed over the seven islands of the middle universe, each with its ocean and its seven principal mountains. Then it crossed the Lokāloka boundary and entered the vast region of total darkness.

In that darkness the chariot’s horses — Śaibya, Sugrīva, Meghapuṣpa and Balāhaka — lost their way. Seeing them in this condition, O best of the Bhāratas, Lord Kṛṣṇa, the supreme master of all masters of yoga, sent His Sudarśana disc before the chariot. That disc shone like thousands of suns. The Lord’s Sudarśana disc penetrated the darkness with its blazing effulgence. Racing forward with the speed of the mind, it cut through the fearsome, dense oblivion expanded from primeval matter, as an arrow shot from Lord Rāma’s bow cuts through His enemy’s army. Following the Sudarśana disc, the chariot went beyond the darkness and reached the endless spiritual light of the all pervasive brahmajyoti. As Arjuna beheld this glaring effulgence, his eyes hurt, and so he shut them.

From that region they entered a body of water resplendent with huge waves being churned by a mighty wind. Within that ocean Arjuna saw an amazing palace more radiant than anything he had ever seen before. Its beauty was enhanced by thousands of ornamental pillars bedecked with brilliant gems. Lord Kṛṣṇa offered homage to Himself in this boundless form, and Arjuna, astonished at the sight of Lord Mahā-Viṣṇu, bowed down as well.” (SB 10.89.46-52,57)

This same pastime is described more vividly by Śrila Prabhupāda in chapter 89 to Kṛṣṇa Book, where he also gives us extra insight in his view of the islands of Bhū-mandala and their surrounding planets:

“Seated on His chariot with Arjuna, Kṛṣṇa proceeded north, crossing over many planetary systems. These are described in Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam as sapta-dvīpa. Dvīpa means “island.” These planets are sometimes described in the Vedic literature as dvīpas. The planet on which we are living is called Jambūdvīpa. Outer space is taken as a great ocean of air, and within that great ocean of air there are many islands, which are the different planets. On each and every planet there are oceans also. On some of the planets the oceans are of salt water, and on some of them there are oceans of milk. On others there are oceans of liquor, and on others there are oceans of ghee or oil. There are different kinds of mountains also. Each and every planet has a different type of atmosphere.”

He gives a similar account in his purport to SB 3.23.43:

“All the planets are here described as gola, round. Every planet is round, and each planet is a different shelter, just like islands in the great ocean. Planets are sometimes called dvīpa or varṣa. This earth planet is called Bhārata-varṣa because it was ruled by King Bharata. Another significant word used in this verse is bahv-āścaryam, “many wonderful things.” This indicates that the different planets are distributed all over the universe in the eight directions, and each and every one of them is wonderful in itself. Each planet has its particular climatic influences and particular types of inhabitants and is completely equipped with everything, including the beauty of the seasons. In the Brahma-saṁhitā (5.40) it is similarly stated, vibhūti-bhinnam: on each and every planet there are different opulences. It cannot be expected that one planet is exactly like another. By God’s grace, by nature’s law, each and every planet is made differently and has different wonderful features.”

These two passages combine with other references where Prabhupāda states his view of the planetary system of Bhū-mandala as a collective of different types of planets, and the surrounding oceans as nothing more than different types of oceans surrounding their respective continents, just as on earth.

The way this structure is perceived by other inhabitants of the universe is certainly different from what we see. By the description of the Śrīmad Bhagavad, it appears that they perceive it as a more or less continuous structure, just like many islands connected by causeways. However, from our perspective, these islands and oceans appear in the form of numerous planets spread through the cosmos. These planets are connected to each other by the branches of the cosmic tree, but they can’t be perceived by us, giving us the impression they are unrelated.

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A map of the first chapter of the Gītā

This is a short summary of the topics that compose the first chapter, meant to help us to remember what we studied. You can imagine these short descriptions as hooks on which to anchor everything we studied, gaining a structured view of the entire chapter. We will have similar outlines for all subsequent chapters.

Scene: Sañjaya and Dhṛtarāṣṭra (Bg 1.1)

Sañjaya and Dhṛtarāṣṭra are in the palace. The armies are already assembled on the battlefield. The blind king is unsure about the outcome, fearing that the holy influence of Kurukṣetra may favor the virtuous Pāṇḍavas.

Diplomacy: Duryodhana talks to Dronacārya (Bg 1.2 to 1.11)

Duryodhana addresses his guru in a calculated monologue. He tries to manipulate the situation, using carefully crafted sentences, trying to satisfy both Bhīṣma and Droṇācārya, as well as the other generals. He speaks as one who already knows everything and feels no need to inquire.

Sound: The sounding of the conchshells (Bg 1.12 to 1.19)

The soldiers on the side of the Pāṇḍavas are not affected by the sounds of the Kaurava army, but the hearts of the Kauravas are shattered when Kṛṣṇa and the Pāṇḍavas answer. Kṛṣṇa is on the other side, and the goddess of fortune is with Him.

Request: Arjuna asks to see the opposing side (Bg 1.20 to 1.23)

Arjuna wants to see who has come to fight and estimate the strength of the opposing forces. The chariot positioned in the middle of both armies will give Kṛṣṇa the opportunity to benefit the soldiers in both armies by speaking the Bhagavad-gītā.

Vision: Arjuna’s heart shatters (Bg 1.24 to 1.27)

This is the defining moment of the first chapter. Seeing the friends and family members who have come to fight against him, Arjuna has a change of heart. Now he faces the choice of fighting and killing his own kinsmen, or neglecting his duty as a kṣatriya.

Collapse: Arjuna’s compassion and fear (Bg 1.28 to 1.29)

Arjuna shows a mixture of symptoms. The quivering of the limbs and his mouth drying up are symptoms of compassion, while the trembling, the hair standing on end, the skin burning, and the bow slipping from his hand are symptoms of material fear.

Attachment: Arjuna falls into the bodily concept of life (Bg 1.30)

Because of material attachment to his friends and relatives, Arjuna falls into the bodily conception of life, characterized by lamentation. He considers that both victory and defeat will bring him grief, and as a result, his mind reels in confusion.

Arguments: Reasons for not fighting (Bg 1.31 to 1.43)

Arjuna gives five reasons not to fight: 1) compassion, 2) fear of personal loss, 3) destruction of family traditions, 4) fear of karmic reactions, and 5) indecision. He then concludes by arguing that wholesale killing in the battle would leave the women unprotected, leading to the destruction of family traditions.

Impasse: Arjuna casts his bow aside and sits (Bg 1.44 to 1.46)

Arjuna gives strong arguments from the moral standpoint, based on what he has heard from authorities, but his knowledge of ordinary dharma is not sufficient to solve his problem. His confusion gives Kṛṣṇa the opportunity to speak the Bhagavad-gītā for our benefit.

In this way, the keys for remembering the topics of this chapter are:

Scene - Diplomacy - Sound - Request
Vision - Collapse - Attachment - Arguments - Impasse

Each word corresponds to one section of the map. By memorizing these keys in sequence, we can remember the flow of the whole chapter: first the setting, then Duryodhana’s political maneuvering, the sounding of the conchshells, Arjuna’s request to see the opposing side, his vision of his relatives, his emotional collapse, the result of his attachment, his arguments against fighting, and finally the impasse that gives Kṛṣṇa the opportunity to speak.

The Scene is set as armies gather for the fight;
through cautious Diplomacy, Duryodhana measures might.
The conches resonate with a thunderous Sound;
then Arjuna makes his Request to survey the ground.

His Vision falls upon his teachers, friends, and kin;
his courage gives way to Collapse before the war can begin.
Through Attachment, compassion loses proper aim;
and grief disguises weakness beneath a righteous name.

His Arguments condemn the battle, duty, and throne;
yet all arise from thinking the body is the self alone.
Unable to fight or from the conflict depart,Arjuna reaches an Impasse,
defeated within his heart.

Read the entire book:
« The Song of God—Volume 1, chapters 1-6

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