The process of creation starts

Up to this point, the shells of the material universes were created, the Supreme Lord entered them as Garbhodakaśāyī Viṣnu and Kṣīrodakaśāyī Viṣnu, and the material energy was activated, leading to the manifestation of the material elements. After that, the process of creating the material manifestation finally started.

Brahmā then appeared from the navel of Lord Viṣnu, leading to the situation described in the 9th chapter of the Second Canto:

“Lord Brahmā, the first spiritual master, supreme in the universe, could not trace out the source of his lotus seat, and while thinking of creating the material world, he could not understand the proper direction for such creative work, nor could he find out the process for such creation. While thus engaged in thinking, in the water, Brahmājī heard twice from nearby two syllables joined together. One of the syllables was taken from the sixteenth and the other from the twenty-first of the sparśa alphabets, and both joined to become the wealth of the renounced order of life.

When he heard the sound, he tried to find the speaker, searching on all sides. But when he was unable to find anyone besides himself, he thought it wise to sit down on his lotus seat firmly and give his attention to the execution of penance, as he was instructed.” (SB 2.9.5-7)

Brahmā awakened in complete darkness on top of the lotus flower and was unable to trace the source of it. He understood he was supposed to create the universe, but could not understand what to create or how to do it. Although the subtle universal form, the blueprint of the universe, was already manifest, Brahmā could not see it.

At this point, Brahmā heard the syllables “ta” and “pa” pronounced by the Lord and engaged in meditation. Brahmā then meditated for one thousand celestial years. During this period, the creation remained dormant, as described on SB 3.6.6. At the end of this period, Brahmā was blessed with the opportunity to see the Lord and the spiritual world.

Brahmā performs his work of creation at the beginning of each of his days. In the Second Canto, the process of creation in the current day of Brahmā is described. It doesn’t necessarily happen exactly the same way in all of his days. This particular day, the Padma-kalpa, is special because it follows the total devastation that happens at the end of the first half of the life of Brahmā. Normally, when Brahmā awakens at the beginning of his day, the process is simpler because the material elements, as well as the upper planets (Maharloka and upwards), survive the partial devastation.

Apart from being the current day, another reason for the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam describing the Padma-kalpa instead of some other day of Brahmā is that, on this particular day, Kṛṣṇa appears in his original form to Brahmā after his meditation. As mentioned in the Gopāla-tāpanī Upanisad, Brahmā practices devotional service for the first half of his life, repeatedly creating the universe, and finally, on the first day of the second half, the Lord agrees to reveal Himself to him and allows Brahmā to see the spiritual world.

After completing his meditation and meeting the Lord, the creation of Brahmā finally started. As described on 2.9.39, he began to re-create the universe, full with living entities, as it was previously.

At first, Brahmā had to fix the conditions of the universe so the process of secondary creation could take place. It’s mentioned that “both the lotus on which he was situated and the water on which the lotus was growing were trembling due to a strong, violent wind.”

Using his power, Brahmā could drink the wind as well as the water, fixing the situation. Now, without the disturbance of the cosmic winds and with the Garbhodaka Ocean back to its proper level, creation could take place.

The first step was to create the planets from the material elements contained in the cosmic lotus. This is described later, in the Third Canto:

“Thereafter he saw that the lotus on which he was situated was spread throughout the universe, and he contemplated how to create all the planets, which were previously merged in that very same lotus. Thus engaged in the service of the Supreme Personality of Godhead, Lord Brahmā entered into the whorl of the lotus, and as it spread all over the universe, he divided it into three divisions of worlds and later into fourteen divisions.” (SB 3.10.7-8)

Previously, the Lord created both the material elements and the subtle forms of the planets (in the Virāṭ-rūpa), and thus, factually, everything was already created by the Lord. The work of Brahmā, which looks so astonishing to us, consists of organizing the material elements into the forms conceived by the Lord.

Brahmā thus used the material elements from the lotus to create the fourteen planetary systems: 1) Satyaloka, 2) Tapaloka, 3) Janaloka, 4) Maharloka, 5) Svargaloka, 6) Bhuvarloka, 7) Bhūrloka, 8) Atalaloka, 9) Vitala-loka, 10) Sutala-loka, 11) Talātala-loka, 12) Mahātala-loka, 13) Rasātala-loka, and 14) Pātāla-loka.

The planetary systems of Atala, Vitala, Sutala, Talātala, Mahātala, Rasātala, and Pātāla are the lower planets, where the demons live. The intermediate planets, including earth, form Bhūrloka, while Svargaloka is the celestial planetary system where the demigods live. Bhuvarloka is the space in between. That’s the place for Siddhas, Cāraṇas, and Vidyādharas, as well as Rakshasas and other subtle beings. They are in the middle, considered higher than human beings but lower than the demigods.

All these different planetary systems up to Svargaloka are destroyed at the end of each day of Brahmā and recreated at the beginning of the next day.

Still higher are the planetary systems of Maharloka, Janaloka, Tapoloka, and Satyaloka, inhabited by great sages. These sages are, in general, above the feuds between demigods and demons and engage their time in advanced devotional service. For that reason, these planetary systems are not destroyed at the end of the day of Brahmā, surviving until the end of the parārdha (the first or second half of his life).

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How does it relate to modern theories?

How does this description of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam relate to modern theories?

Nowadays, the most accepted scientific theory for the origin of the universe is the Big Bang theory. Their idea is that a great explosion led to a rapid expansion of the fundamental material particles, which created the physical laws that govern the cosmos, and a mass of energy that gradually expanded and cooled down, leading to the creation of hydrogen, which condensed in the first stars, leading to the gradual creation of the other atomic elements by nuclear fusion inside these stars. These atomic elements then spread throughout the cosmos as these first stars exhausted their fuel and exploded into supernovae.

Some believe that this passage of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam connects well with this scientific description of the initial stages of the universe, with the sequential creation of the fabric of space-time (ether), followed by the expansion of matter (air), which was, in turn, surcharged with light and energy (fire), leading to the creation of hydrogen (water) and finally the other atomic elements (earth) by the process of nuclear fusion inside the stars. This initial creation, they believe, was followed by the appearance of Brahmā, who used these elements to create the sun, the planets, and the different forms of life.

Whether this is correct or not, we can’t tell, since the evidence is merely subjective, but there are indeed certain similarities between these two explanations, and this can be used to describe the version of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam to scientifically inclined people.

It’s interesting to note that the explanations given in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam and other Purāṇas also closely relate to modern scientific theories in other factors, such as the dates for the creation of both the universe and the solar system, dates for the main cycles of extinction on our planet, such as the Permian-Triassic extinction, etc. They also agree on the idea of the sun becoming in the future a red giant and destroying the planets in the inner solar system (including the earth). According to the Purāṇas, this is supposed to happen at the end of the day of Brahmā, in a time frame that is within the range that is predicted by current theories.

Good material science is based on making experiments and creating theories based on the results. In the Vedic tradition, these two processes are called pratyakṣa and anumāna. They are not considered perfect processes for obtaining knowledge because they are based on using our material senses and intelligence, which are imperfect, but they are still accepted as secondary valid methods. Sometimes, the conclusions achieved by these methods may be correct, and sometimes not.

The most perfect form of obtaining knowledge, according to the Vedas, is śabda-pramāṇa, receiving perfect knowledge from the scriptures, trying to understand the explanations about the origin of the universe and other topics given in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam and other books. That’s what we are trying to do here. The point about following the process of śabda-pramāṇa is that we need to study the explanations of the scriptures carefully, so we may properly understand them; otherwise, we may end up fanatically trying to push theories that are the fruit of our misunderstanding and are not at all supported in the sastras.

The fact that some scientific theories agree with the Vedas on some points reinforces the validity of the scriptures and also makes the point that maybe in the future, the knowledge from the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam and other scriptures, when properly understood, may be used to correct and expand scientific theories and thus arrive at unified theories that are supported by both Vedic knowledge and experimental knowledge. This would prove beyond doubt the authenticity of the knowledge of the Vedas.

More scientific than it appears

In chemistry and physics, the chemical elements are classified according to their atomic number. Hydrogen is composed of atoms with one proton and one electron, lithium is composed of atoms with three of each, iron is made of atoms with 26, and so on. Elements also have ions (losing or gaining electrons) as well as isotopes, which differ in the number of neutrons. Tritium, for example, is a hydrogen isotope with one proton and two neutrons.

The Vedas, however, classify the elements according to their characteristics and not according to their atomic structure. The reason is that material reality is composed of different levels of existence, which go from gross to subtle. At the gross level, where we live, matter is composed of atoms, but in the subtle realms of the inhabitants of Bhū-mandala, of the demigods in Svargaloka, of great sages in the higher planetary systems, etc., matter has different compositions. The modern classification, based on types of atoms, is valid only for our plane, while the classification of the Vedas in terms of fire, ether, water, smell, taste, sight, hearing, etc. describes reality in all planes, because everywhere people see, taste, and hear, and matter has properties of having taste, form, odor, and so on. This classification of elements is thus much more scientific than it may seem at first.

There are many separate details in the explanation of the material elements, but one essential point to understand is that all energies are part of Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Brahmān. There is nothing separate or independent from Him. At the same time, however, He has multiple potencies, and they have different characteristics and distinctions. As souls, we are parts and parcels of Kṛṣṇa, but at the same time, we are separate individuals. All these apparent contradictions were harmonized by Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu in his achintya-bheda-abheda tattva philosophy, which describes the inconceivable simultaneous oneness and difference.

The study of the material elements should, therefore, not be seen as something separated from Kṛṣṇa, because the material elements are part of Kṛṣṇa’s energy. By studying the material elements and the interactions between them, we can better understand how the material creation works, what keeps us bound here, and how we can free ourselves. People are naturally curious about the structure of the universe, and this curiosity leads to the development of material science. However, because there are no studies about the soul and the subtle material manifestations, scientific theories are incomplete and don’t help us on the path of self-realization. The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam fills this gap, giving us a metaphysical explanation of the nature and structure of the universe we live in.

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The concept of predominating deities

After the description of the creation of the material elements, we have a mysterious passage, where the controlling deities of the elements offer their prayers to the Supreme Lord, asking Him to enter the elements and make the cosmic manifestation possible through His energy.

“The controlling deities of all the above-mentioned physical elements are empowered expansions of Lord Viṣnu. They are embodied by eternal time under the external energy, and they are His parts and parcels. Because they were entrusted with different functions of universal duties and were unable to perform them, they offered fascinating prayers to the Lord as follows.” (SB 3.5.38)

How can material elements offer prayers? The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam explains that everything in the Lord’s creation is personal. Just like the material energy itself is personified in the form of Pārvatī, the consort of Lord Śiva, all the material elements and different material energies of the Supreme Lord have their predominating deities. We thus have a distinction between the gross material elements and the spiritual potencies that control them, just as the difference between body and soul.

At this point, the material elements were already manifested, including the mahat-tattva, false ego, ether, air, fire, water, and earth, as well as the functions of sound, touch, form, taste, and smell, together with their respective deities, but because the material creation was not yet active, they were unable to perform their functions. They thus started offering prayers to the Lord.

It happens that the material elements and even their predominating deities have no power to create for themselves, just like factory workers have no ability to produce a new car alone. Unless there is a project, a factory, tools, parts, and a manager to guide them, nothing will be done. Similarly, the predominating deities of the material elements can only offer their work in manipulating the building blocks of the material manifestation. For the cosmos to manifest, a project is necessary, as well as competent managers who can oversee the construction. Both have to be provided by the Lord.

In his purport to text 3.5.51, Śrila Prabhupāda draws a parallel with our own situation, explaining that we need empowerment to be able to serve the Lord (or, in fact, to perform any kind of activities), and this empowerment is obtained by sincerely trying to serve the Lord under the guidance of a qualified spiritual master. In other words, everything is possible, and everything starts from our desire. From desire comes the reciprocation of the Lord, and when the Lord reciprocates, everything becomes possible.

The next chapter, 3.6, describes how the Lord reacted to these prayers by entering the material elements and manifesting the universal form, leading to the subsequent stages of material creation:

“The Lord thus heard about the suspension of the progressive creative functions of the universe due to the noncombination of His potencies, such as the mahat-tattva.

The Supreme Powerful Lord then simultaneously entered into the twenty-three elements with the goddess Kālī, His external energy, who alone amalgamates all the different elements. Thus when the Personality of Godhead entered into the elements by His energy, all the living entities were enlivened into different activities, just as one is engaged in his work after awakening from sleep.

When the twenty-three principal elements were set in action by the will of the Supreme, the gigantic universal form, or the viśvarūpa body of the Lord, came into existence. As the Lord, in His plenary portion, entered into the elements of the universal creation, they transformed into the gigantic form in which all the planetary systems and all movable and immovable creations rest.” (SB 3.6.1-5)

The description of the Bhāgavatam mentions the existence of 23 elements. We studied the creation of five, plus the mind and false ego. What are these 23? This is just a different way to count it. The list of the 23 elements includes the mahat-tattva, false ego, mind, the properties of the five elements, and the different senses. All of these were created in the previous process. They are 1) the total material energy, 2) false ego, 3) sound, 4) touch, 5) form, 6) taste, 7) smell, 8) earth, 9) water, 10) fire, 11) air, 12) sky, 13) eye, 14) ear, 15) nose, 16) tongue, 17) skin, 18) hand, 19) leg, 20) evacuating organ, 21) genitals, 22) speech, and 23) mind.

Later in the third canto, Lord Kapila describes 25 elements, counted as:

a) The five material elements (earth, water, fire, air, and ether).

b) The qualities of these elements (odor, taste, form, touch, and sound).

c) The five senses for acquiring knowledge (sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch).

d) The five senses of action (the tongue, hands, legs, genital, and excretory system).

e) The four internal senses (mind, intelligence, material ego, and material consciousness).

f) Time, which is counted as the 25th element.

Kṛṣṇa Himself, in the 11th canto, explains that there are different valid ways to count the material elements. The main point is that the simple existence of the elements doesn’t make the cosmic creation viable, just like a mere pile of bricks is not sufficient for a house to be built. The Lord enters into the elements as Paramātma, bringing with Him His energy, and that’s what makes the creation possible.

Read the whole book:
« Making Sense of the Vedic Universe, a Higher-Dimensional Reality

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.

I’m happy to announce that after a long time in the works, the new book on Vedic cosmology, Making Sense of the Vedic Universe, a Higher-Dimensional Reality is officially available!

The book deals with one of the most fascinating, and often most challenging, subjects in the Vedic literature: the structure of the universe as described in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam and related texts. Many readers deeply appreciate the spiritual teachings of the Vedas, but when they encounter descriptions of Bhū-maṇḍala, Mount Sumeru, the planetary systems, the movements of the sun and moon, the lower realms, the higher worlds, and the immense scales of Vedic cosmology, they may feel uncertain about how to understand them.

This book was written to help with that.

Its purpose is not to dismiss these descriptions, nor to force them artificially into modern astronomy, but to approach them seriously, on their own terms. The Vedic universe is not merely a physical diagram of outer space. It is a multidimensional vision of reality, describing the gross, subtle, and spiritual levels of existence, the hierarchy of life within the cosmos, and ultimately the path by which the soul can go beyond the material world, back home, back to Godhead.

The book explores these subjects step by step, beginning with the basic principles needed to understand Vedic cosmology and then gradually entering into the deeper descriptions of the Bhāgavatam. It discusses how the visible universe relates to Bhū-maṇḍala, how the planetary systems may be understood, why the Purāṇic descriptions differ from ordinary modern models, and what spiritual purpose these descriptions serve.

It is available for free, so all interested devotees can have easy access to it.

There are several options available there:

a) You can download the PDF. There is both a version suitable for printing and a version to be read on the screen.

b) You can get the ebook on Google Books and read it on your phone or any other device.

c) You can read on the web. New chapters are being posted daily on the website. This is a good way to follow the topics daily, one section at a time, as each new part is released.

d) You can buy a printed copy on Amazon.

You can help by spreading the news.

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Once, Śāntanu met Gaṅgādevī, the personification of the river Ganges, while walking on the banks of the river. Without knowing who she was, Śāntanu immediately courted the beautiful maiden, who agreed to marry him under the condition that he would never question anything she did, whether good or bad. If he ever questioned her, she would leave immediately.

Some question how Śāntanu could have married a river, but in this case it’s not about the river but the demigoddess that presides over it. It is just like the sun and Vivasvān, the solar deity. Both can be called “sun,” but there is a great difference between the solar globe and the demigod that presides over it, just as there is between a king and his kingdom.

Śāntanu accepted, and soon they conceived a son. However, as soon as the child was born, she took him to the river and drowned him. Bound by his promise, however, Śāntanu couldn’t do anything. The same scene repeated for each of their next children, and each time Śāntanu was terrified but did not say anything. When she took their eighth child, he was unable to contain himself and finally questioned her on who she was and how she could kill their children so mercilessly.

At that moment, Gangā finally revealed her true identity and explained the reason for her actions. The eight children were the eight Vasus, who had been cursed to take birth on earth after stealing the cow of the great sage Vasiṣṭha, a kāmadhenu who could satisfy all desires. Gangā had agreed to come to earth to become their mother and thus liberate them quickly from the curse.

She had chosen Śāntanu to become their father, knowing that he would break the condition for their marriage after they were born, allowing her to return to her celestial position. Seven of the vasus could return immediately to their celestial positions, but the chief among them, the one who had taken the cow, had to live a human life. This eighth vasu, known as Devavrata, was taken by her for education and later delivered to Śāntanu as his son.

Later, Śāntanu met Satyavatī, the daughter of a local fisherman, who had been blessed by the great sage Parāśara Muni to have a divine bodily fragrance. Śāntanu immediately wanted to marry her, but when he approached her father, he demanded that her sons would inherit the throne instead of Devavrata, the eldest son. Śāntanu couldn’t agree with this proposal, but when his son heard of it, he made a vow of lifelong celibacy. With this, he removed himself from the royal succession and opened the path for his father’s second marriage. For this vow, he became known as Bhīṣma, “One who has taken a terrible vow”, and received the blessing that he would die only at the time of his choosing.

During the battle of Kurukṣetra, Bhīṣma was pierced by numerous arrows shot by Arjuna, which formed a kind of bed, preventing his body from touching the ground when he fell. Still, because of the blessing, he didn’t die. He remained on his bed of arrows on the battlefield for several months, and left his body only months later at a particularly auspicious moment, in the presence of Kṛṣṇa. His glorious passing away is narrated in the first canto of Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam.

Bhīṣma was so powerful that he once fought Paraśurāma to a standstill. Paraśurāma had previously exterminated the kṣatriyas of the world twenty-one times, but still, he couldn’t defeat Bhīṣma in battle. The story is that at a certain point, Bhīṣma kidnapped Amba to marry her to his half-brother, Vicitravīrya. However, because she was already in love with Śālva, Vicitravīrya refused to marry her. Śālva, in turn, also refused because she had been kidnapped by another man. Put in such a situation, she demanded Bhīṣma marry her since he was the one who created the situation by kidnapping her in the first place, but he refused because of his vow of brahmacārya. She then took shelter of Paraśurāma, who, being the martial guru of Bhīṣmadeva, promised to help her. When Bhīṣma refused to marry Amba, Paraśurāma fought with him, but after Bhīṣma held his own for twenty-three days, he had to admit that he would not be able to defeat him. Amba then practiced severe austerities with the goal of killing Bhīṣma and eventually was reborn as Śikhaṇḍī, who joined the Pāṇḍava army and was instrumental in defeating Bhīṣmadeva.

Even though he had two wives, Ambikā and Ambālikā, Vicitravīrya died without a son, creating a succession crisis that is central to the plot of the Mahābhārata. With the bloodline of Śāntanu broken, Satyavatī revealed to Bhīṣma that she had a child with Parāśara Muni before her marriage with King Śāntanu. It happened that when she was young, she was helping her father as a boatwoman, ferrying people across the river. Once, Parāśara needed to cross the river and asked for her help. During the trip, however, he became attracted to her and promised to bless her and keep her virginity intact if she would unite with him. That’s how she got the blessing of possessing a divine bodily fragrance. Being Parāśara a great sage, this union was not considered irreligious, and because of his blessing, it also didn’t prevent Satyavatī from marrying Śāntanu later, just in the case of Kuntī begetting a child with the sun-god. Their union produced a divine son, Vyāsadeva, who was born instantly and quickly grew into an adult, just like a demigod. Vyāsa left shortly after his birth, but he promised his mother to come whenever she needed him.

Remembering that, she invoked Vyāsa to perform niyoga, the ancient practice where a qualified sage would be invoked to beget a child on a widow to preserve a family line. Such unions would not be performed out of lust but as a sacred duty and would be in accordance with the path of dharma. Vyāsa accepted but warned her that he had been performing austerities for a long time, and for that reason, his appearance was frightening.

Satyavatī and the two queens accepted, but when Vyāsa approached Ambikā, she became afraid and closed her eyes. This led to the birth of Dhṛtarāṣṭra, who was blind from birth. Ambālikā became pale, and this led to the birth of Pāṇḍu, who was of weak health. Satyavatī pressed for one more son, but this time Ambikā hid and sent a maidservant in her place, leading to the birth of Vidura. With this, Pāṇḍu inherited the throne, but with his early demise, his five sons were left fatherless and had to survive all the intrigues of Dhṛtarāṣṭra and his sons, leading to the battle of Kurukṣetra.

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.

The creation of the material elements

The spiritual creation is eternal. The spiritual planets exist eternally in the spiritual sky, and their inhabitants were never created, nor do they ever face annihilation. Everything that exists there exists eternally, without interruption, without a beginning or end.

However, on the material side, there was a time when everything was dark. At that point, there were no material elements, no universes, and no planets. Only the Lord existed as Mahā-Viṣnu. This stage is described in the 3rd canto of Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam:

“The Personality of Godhead, the master of all living entities, existed prior to the creation as one without a second. It is by His will only that creation is made possible and again everything merges in Him. This Supreme Self is symptomized by different names.

The Lord, the undisputed proprietor of everything, was the only seer. The cosmic manifestation was not present at that time, and thus He felt imperfect without His plenary and separated parts and parcels. The material energy was dormant, whereas the internal potency was manifested.” (SB 3.3.23-24)

The material creation is eternal in the sense that it goes through unlimited cycles of creation and destruction, but it is not always active. After each day of Brahmā (4.32 billion years), there is a partial destruction, followed by his night (also 4.32 billion years), and at the end of the life of Brahmā (311.04 trillion years), there is the period when material nature remains inactive (also 311.04 trillion years).

Modern science (as well as many ancient atheistic philosophies from India), believes that the universe is created automatically by the interaction of the different material elements, but the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam explains that the material energy is just the effect. The cause is the Supreme Lord. Just like a pile of bricks can’t organize itself into a building, the material energy can’t move without the transcendental touch of the Lord.

How does the transcendental Lord activate the spiritual energy? Just as the father impregnating the mother leads to the birth of a child, the Lord impregnating the material nature with the souls and the time energy leads to the appearance of all material universes and ultimately of all living entities. However, in His case, no extenuating effort is necessary; everything is done by a simple glance.

A crucial stage of this process is the creation of the material elements, the building blocks of the material creation. When we hear the expression “material elements”, we think about tangible things we can touch, like a bar of iron or a mound of earth, but here we are speaking about subtle manifestations that appeared before the universes were even formed. The elements are thus less about physical matter and more about energy or properties. These same elements are later converted into many different grades of matter, which are used to build the different levels of planetary systems. Both a table here on earth and a table in Svargaloka are composed of the same earth element, but they are of very different natures.

The material energy is first manifested as pradhāna, the gigantic mass of unmanifested material energy that appears like a cloud above the causal ocean. After being impregnated with the time energy, the three material modes become apparent. From this point on, pradhāna is converted into the mahat-tattva, and the chain of transformations that leads to the creation of the material manifestation starts.

This initial process of creation of the material elements is described in the third canto of Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, starting with the creation of the false ego, mind, and intelligence, followed by the senses and the material elements (ether or sky, fire, air, water, and earth):

“Mahat-tattva, or the great causal truth, transforms into false ego, which is manifested in three phases — cause, effect and the doer. All such activities are on the mental plane and are based on the material elements, gross senses and mental speculation. The false ego is represented in three different modes — goodness, passion and ignorance.

The false ego is transformed into mind by interaction with the mode of goodness. All the demigods who control the phenomenal world are also products of the same principle, namely the interaction of false ego and the mode of goodness. The senses are certainly products of the mode of passion in false ego, and therefore philosophical speculative knowledge and fruitive activities are predominantly products of the mode of passion. The sky is a product of sound, and sound is the transformation of egoistic ignorance. In other words, the sky is the symbolic representation of the Supreme Soul.

Thereafter the Personality of Godhead glanced over the sky, partly mixed with eternal time and external energy, and thus developed the touch sensation, from which the air in the sky was produced. Thereafter the extremely powerful air, interacting with the sky, generated the form of sense perception, and the perception of form transformed into electricity, the light to see the world. When electricity was surcharged in the air and was glanced over by the Supreme, at that time, by a mixture of eternal time and external energy, there occurred the creation of water and taste.

Thereafter the water produced from electricity was glanced over by the Supreme Personality of Godhead and mixed with eternal time and external energy. Thus it was transformed into the earth, which is qualified primarily by smell. O gentle one, of all the physical elements, beginning from the sky down to the earth, all the inferior and superior qualities are due only to the final touch of the glance of the Supreme Personality of Godhead.” (SB 3.5.29-37)

The creation of the false ego

From the combination of the mahat-tattva (the total aggregate of the material elements), and the mode of ignorance, the false ego is generated. This false ego is the basic force that binds the souls into the material universe, making them accept different material identities one after the other.

In his purport to text 3.5.28, Prabhupāda explains, “The mahat-tattva is the medium between pure spirit and material existence. It is the junction of matter and spirit wherefrom the false ego of the living entity is generated. All living entities are differentiated parts and parcels of the Personality of Godhead. Under the pressure of false ego, the conditioned souls, although parts and parcels of the Supreme Personality of Godhead, claim to be the enjoyers of material nature. This false ego is the binding force of material existence.”

False ego means the concept of identity that makes us think we are something other than our original spiritual nature. My original nature is to be a servant of Kṛṣṇa, but under the influence of the false ego, I think I’m a man, a woman, a demigod, a tree, or a horse. Under the influence of the false ego, we are prepared to accept any identity, any at all, except our original spiritual identities as servants of Kṛṣṇa.

False ego leads us to perform material activities, manipulating the material energy in the form of gross matter, and also in dealing with other people. These material activities have three phases: cause, effect, and doer. The cause is material desire, the effect (or consequence) is the different karmic reactions we get, and under the illusion, we see ourselves as the doers, the ones doing all these different activities.

The false ego is not a physical, tangible element, but it is counted as part of the material creation because it is the binding force that keeps us bound to this material world, considering ourselves part of it. Without the influence of the false ego, the material experience is not possible. Therefore, it has to be created right at the beginning stages of the material creation.

The appearance of the mind and senses

Originally, there were only five energies present: the mahat-tattva (the sum of all material elements), the three modes of nature, and material time. By the interaction of the five, everything else was created, just as many preparations can be made from the same ingredients. First, the false ego was created by the combination of mahat-tattva and the mode of ignorance, and next, the mind is created by the further interaction of the false ego and the mode of goodness. The mind is the center of our material experience because it is through the mind that we can feel, desire, and experience the world.

The creation of the mind is explained in SB 3.5.30:

“The false ego is transformed into mind by interaction with the mode of goodness. All the demigods who control the phenomenal world are also products of the same principle, namely the interaction of false ego and the mode of goodness.”

The interaction of the false ego and the mode of goodness also creates the different demigods who govern the cosmos. The demigods created at this stage, however, are not the same demigods we have in our universe. Everything that is described at this stage happened in the very initial stages of creation, before the creation of the material universes. These demigods mentioned here are archetypal demigods that are the source of all the different demigods that later appear inside the different material universes, just like Lord Sadāśiva, who appears from the look of Mahā-Viṣnu, is the origin of all the Śivas who appear in the different universes.

Next, by the interaction of the false ego and the mode of passion, the senses are created, allowing us to experience the world. Again, the senses created at this stage are archetypal senses that will later give origin to the senses of every individual living being. One example that can be given in this sense is that someone may invent a thing called “car” as an idea, and later a factory may be built to produce cars for everyone interested in buying them.

The other material elements manifest

In this way, from the interaction of false ego and goodness, the mind and the demigods are generated. From false ego and passion, the senses and material intelligence are created. The next stage is the creation of the material elements, which starts with the creation of the element ether, from which other elements are created. This process is first described in chapter five of the Third Canto, and later deepened in further chapters.

Ether, or sky, is created from the interaction of the false ego and the mode of ignorance. False ego already appears from the interaction of the mahat-tattva and ignorance, and when the combination again mixes with ignorance, ether is created. These successive combinations are similar to an artist creating new colors by mixing different colors present in his palette and then mixing the new colors again with the previous colors to create yet newer colors.

The element ether is the fabric of the material manifestation and also the source of all other elements. It also serves as the foundation where the whole cosmic manifestation rests. The property of ether is to transmit sound; therefore, ether and sound are created at the same stage. The idea of ether transmitting sound may sound strange at first, since we learn in school that the propagation of sound depends on atoms that can conduct the vibration. There are, however, subtle forms of sound that can travel on ether. Even in our gross reality, radio signals can travel through the vacuum of space.

Together with sound, the sense of hearing is created, which allows us to experience it. The ears of a human and a cat may be different, but the concept of hearing is valid for both. This concept is created long before the physical forms.

The next stage is the creation of the element air, together with the touch sensation. We can’t see air, but we can feel it, and the Vedas explain that we can feel different material objects due to a layer of subtle air that covers the skin. Ether is created from mixing mahat-tattva with ignorance and then again ignorance. Touch is created from the mixture of ether with eternal time, and the element air comes immediately after the creation of touch. This all happens due to the glance of the Lord.

The next stage is the creation of the element fire. In this description, fire is mentioned as “jyoti” (light), which Prabhupāda translates as “electricity”. Both light and electricity are considered subtle manifestations of the element fire; therefore, the three are manifestations of the same material element. However, it seems that at the time of creation, there was no gross manifestation of fire (nothing was burning), but just subtle energy. Therefore, the element fire existed in a very subtle form, and that’s probably why Prabhupāda chose to use the word “electricity”.

Electricity, or fire, comes after the appearance of form, which comes from a combination of ether (or sky) and air. It’s thanks to the creation of the element fire and its subtle forms—light and electricity—that we can see the world. It’s described that this light or electricity surcharged the air, and, by the glance of the Lord, this air surcharged with electricity was again combined with time and mahat-tattva, which led to the creation of water, together with taste. This water was again glanced at by the Lord and once more combined with time and mahat-tattva, leading to the creation of the element earth, together with smell. With this, all the basic building elements of the cosmos were manifested.

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Primary and secondary creation

One important concept in Vedic cosmology is the idea of primary and secondary creation. While the Vedas explain that the universe we live in is created by Brahmā, the first living being, who appears directly from Lord Viṣnu, Brahmā is accepted as just a secondary creator. The primary creator is still the Lord Himself. How does it work?

Imagine a company constructing a new branch. Who takes the credit for building it? The owner, the engineer, or the worker who is setting the bricks? Kṛṣṇa gives the order but is not directly involved in the construction. Mahā-Viṣnu is like the engineer who makes the project, and Brahmā is like the worker who builds the physical construction according to His plan.

Another point to consider: When does the building come into existence? Only when the physical bricks are set, or when the engineer makes the project? These are two distinct phases, but we can say that when the project is ready, the building already exists, but in a subtle form, as an idea that later gains a physical form.

That’s what Brahmā means when he reveals to his son Nārada Muni:

“Inspired by Him only, I discover what is already created by Him [Nārāyaṇa] under His vision as the all-pervading Supersoul, and I also am created by Him only.” (SB 2.5.17)

Just as a book is first conceived by the author as an idea before being physically printed, or a product starts as a project before being effectively produced, Lord Mahā-Viṣnu creates everything that exists in the numerous universes in a subtle form (like a project or an idea). This is the primary creation. Later, Brahmā is inspired from the heart to give physical forms to this project, performing the secondary creation, which is the physical construction of the universe itself.

This process is described in the second canto of Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam. In chapter five, Brahmā himself describes how the Lord created the whole cosmic manifestation before his birth, as the subtle universal form:

“The Lord [Mahā-Viṣṇu], although lying in the Causal Ocean, came out of it, and dividing Himself as Hiraṇyagarbha, He entered into each universe and assumed the virāṭ-rūpa, with thousands of legs, arms, mouths, heads, etc.

Great philosophers imagine that the complete planetary systems in the universe are displays of the different upper and lower limbs of the universal body of the Lord. The brāhmaṇas represent His mouth, the kṣatriyas His arms, the vaiśyas His thighs, and the śūdras are born of His legs. The lower planetary systems, up to the limit of the earthly stratum, are said to be situated in His legs. The middle planetary systems, beginning from Bhuvarloka, are situated in His navel. And the still higher planetary systems, occupied by the demigods and highly cultured sages and saints, are situated in the chest of the Supreme Lord. From the forefront of the chest up to the neck of the universal form of the Lord are situated the planetary systems named Janaloka and Tapoloka, whereas Satyaloka, the topmost planetary system, is situated on the head of the form. The spiritual planets, however, are eternal.

My dear son Nārada, know from me that there are seven lower planetary systems out of the total fourteen. The first planetary system, known as Atala, is situated on the waist; the second, Vitala, is situated on the thighs; the third, Sutala, on the knees; the fourth, Talātala, on the shanks; the fifth, Mahātala, on the ankles; the sixth, Rasātala, on the upper portion of the feet; and the seventh, Pātāla, on the soles of the feet. Thus, the virāṭ form of the Lord is full of all planetary systems.” (SB 2.5.35-41)

When Mahā-Viṣnu performs the primary creation, he creates all forms, manifestations, and experiences that exist in the material universes. These same forms are established inside each individual universe as the subtle universal form by Garbhodakaśāyī Viṣnu. Later, during the secondary creation, Brahmā follows this project, creating the 14 planetary systems, each one containing an enormous volume of forms and experiences. According to our consciousness, we take birth into one of these places, and there we perform our small role in the creation, manipulating the different material objects and interacting with other living entities.

The description of the creation of the universe given in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam gives us an idea of the work necessary for creating the environment we live in. It also helps us to better understand the illusory nature of this world. Śrila Prabhupāda frequently explains in his teachings that life in this material world is, in a sense, similar to a dream. We spend time in this dream thinking that we are a man or a woman, that we have this or that position, and so on, but because none of it is true in the ultimate sense, we need to leave these positions in due time, just like someone awakening from a dream. This, however, should not be misunderstood.

Like all analogies, the comparison of material life and a dream offers many similarities with reality, but like all analogies, it doesn’t represent all the intricacies. We should thus take the main meaning, which is the temporary nature and illusion of our current situation, and not start believing that we are literally living inside a dream and that everything around us doesn’t exist.

A dream is illusory, but it is not false. It is real in the sense that someone is experiencing it, but at the same time, it is illusory in nature, since in the dream we forget our real identity and become absorbed in imaginary situations. A dream is thus not false, but it is illusory and based on the forgetfulness of our real self. Similarly, this whole material manifestation is not false. We are here experiencing it, as are all the people around us. Things are happening. It is compared to a dream because we become forgetful of our real nature and become absorbed in the different temporary roles we play here.

Because they are not connected with our eternal nature, all the roles we play in this material world are temporary. We play for some time, but eventually, we are forced to leave, and this is called death. After that, if we are still not ready to accept our real nature, a new temporary role is accepted, which we call birth.

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Understanding Jambūdvīpa, the central island of Bhū-mandala

“In Jambūdvīpa there are nine divisions of land, each with a length of 9,000 yojanas [72,000 miles]. There are eight mountains that mark the boundaries of these divisions and separate them nicely.” (SB 5.16.6)

All the measurements in the description of Śukadeva Goswami are given in yojanas, an ancient Vedic unit of distance used in Sanskrit texts. The length of the yojana can vary according to the context, but Prabhupāda concludes that the descriptions of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam are based on a yojana of eight miles.

Jambūdvīpa is described as being circular in form (round like the leaf of a lotus flower), with a length and breadth of 100,000 yojanas (800,000 miles), as confirmed in SB 5.20.2. It’s difficult to conceive something this size, but just for comparison, the equatorial circumference of our planet is about 24,901 miles, which is about 3,113 yojanas. If we do the math, Jambūdvīpa is 2,547 times larger than the entire surface area of earth!

Jambūdvīpa is divided into nine varṣas, or tracts of land, separated by gigantic mountains, whose size is almost inconceivable for us. For example, there are four great mountains surrounding Mount Sumeru (Mandara, Merumandara, Supārśva, and Kumuda), which are 10,000 yojanas, or 80,000 miles high! For comparison, Mount Everest, the highest mountain on our planet, is about 5.5 miles (0.69 yojanas) high. Again, we are speaking about a difference of orders of magnitude.

Taking into consideration the earth’s gravity, the maximum theoretical height for a mountain on our planet (before the rock would start crumbling under its own mass) is about 6 miles, or, in other words, not much taller than the Everest. This shows that the structures of Jambūdvīpa don’t exist under the same physical constraints as mountains and landmasses of our planet. Because they are described in the scriptures, we can be sure that such mountains exist and are perceived by other inhabitants of Jambūdvīpa, but these are not structures found on our planet.

The verse I just quoted states that there are nine divisions of land in Jambūdvīpa, each with a length of 9,000 yojanas. The boundaries of these tracts of land are marked by eight mountains. This gives a simplified idea of the layout of Jambūdvīpa. The whole island has 100,000 yojanas of length and breadth, and the mountain ranges that divide the varṣas are 2,000 yojanas in length at the base. Most of the varṣas have a length of 9,000 yojanas, but there is an important exception.

In his purport, Prabhupāda gives a Sanskrit quote from the Vāyu Purāṇa, describing the locations of the various mountain ranges that are part of Jambūdvīpa and how they divide the whole island into nine separate tracts of land. This reference is mentioned by Śrīla Viśvanātha Cakravartī Ṭhākura in his commentary, clarifying the information omitted in the simplified model given in this verse:

dhanurvat saṁsthite jñeye dve varṣe dakṣiṇottare; dīrghāṇi tatra catvāri caturasram ilāvṛtam iti dakṣiṇottare bhāratottara-kuru-varṣe catvāri kiṁpuruṣa-harivarṣa-ramyaka-hiraṇmayāni varṣāṇi nīla-niṣadhayos tiraścinībhūya samudra-praviṣṭayoḥ saṁlagnatvam aṅgīkṛtya bhadrāśva-ketumālayor api dhanur-ākṛtitvam; atas tayor dairghyata eva madhye saṅkucitatvena nava-sahasrāyāmatvam; ilāvṛtasya tu meroḥ sakāśāt catur-dikṣu nava-sahasrāyāmatvaṁ saṁbhavet vastutas tv ilāvṛta-bhadrāśva-ketumālānāṁ catus-triṁśat-sahasrāyāmatvaṁ jñeyam.

It can be translated in the following way:

“Two varṣas of Jambūdvīpa, the southernmost and the northernmost, are bow-shaped. They are known as Bhārata-varṣa and Uttarakuru-varṣa.
The four varṣas adjacent to them are Kiṃpuruṣa-varṣa, Hari-varṣa, Ramyaka-varṣa, and Hiraṇmaya-varṣa. These four varṣas are elongated in form. Because they are long and narrow in the middle, their length is 9,000 yojanas.
Ilāvṛta-varṣa, however, [the central tract of land, with Mount Sumeru in the middle and surrounded by mountains on four sides], is quadrangular.
Considering that the Nīla and Niṣada mountain ranges run in parallel across the island all the way to the [salt] ocean, Bhadrāśva-varṣa and Ketumāla-varṣa [situated left and right of Ilāvṛta] also have a bow-like shape.
The breadth of Ilāvṛta-varṣa, Bhadrāśva-varṣa, and Ketumāla-varṣa [north to south] should be understood as 34,000 yojanas, but in the case of Ilāvṛta, an extent of 9,000 yojanas can be calculated from the vicinity of Mount Meru, in any of the four directions.”

This verse explains the basic division. Bhārata-varṣa and Uttarakuru-varṣa, as well as Kiṃpuruṣa-varṣa, Hari-varṣa, Ramyaka-varṣa, and Hiraṇmaya-varṣa, are narrow and long, like strips of land that run in parallel. Among them, Bhārata-varṣa and Uttarakuru-varṣa are bow-shaped, because they represent the two extremes of the circle. All these six varṣas are 9,000 yojanas in length, and the mountains adjacent to them are 2,000 yojanas in length at the base. Combined, these six varṣas and the six adjacent mountains are 66,000 yojanas in length.

The middle section, however, is divided into three perpendicular divisions: Ketumāla-varṣa (to the left), Ilāvṛta-varṣa (in the center), and Bhadrāśva-varṣa (to the right). Between them are the Gandhamādana and Mālyavān mountains.

From the three, Ketumāla and Bhadrāśva are like squares that are bow-shaped, or crescent-like in one of the sides (being on the two extremities of the island), while Ilāvṛta is a perfect square, being boxed by line-like mountains on all sides. The total breadth of these three varṣas (north to south) is the same: 34,000 yojanas.

Ketumāla and Bhadrāśva are plain. Ilāvṛta, however, is a special case, because it has Mount Sumeru at the middle. Sumeru’s width at the foot is 16,000 yojanas; therefore, we have 9,000 yojanas from Sumeru to the Nīla mountain (northward), plus the width of Sumeru’s base (16,000 yojanas), plus 9,000 from Sumeru to the Niṣadha mountain (southward), totaling 34,000 yojanas.

Combined with the 66,000 yojanas from the combination of the other varṣas, we have 100,000 in total.

Mount Sumeru: The golden mountain

“Amidst these divisions, or varṣas, is the varṣa named Ilāvṛta, which is situated in the middle of the whorl of the lotus. Within Ilāvṛta-varṣa is Sumeru Mountain, which is made of gold. Sumeru Mountain is like the pericarp of the lotuslike Bhū-mandala planetary system. The mountain’s height is the same as the width of Jambūdvīpa — or, in other words, 100,000 yojanas [800,000 miles]. Of that, 16,000 yojanas [128,000 miles] are within the earth, and therefore the mountain’s height above the earth is 84,000 yojanas [672,000 miles]. The mountain’s width is 32,000 yojanas [256,000 miles] at its summit and 16,000 yojanas at its base.” (SB 5.16.7)

Mount Sumeru is the defining feature of Jambūdvīpa, a gigantic mountain made of solid gold, that has a height of 100,000 yojanas (the same as the length and breadth of the island) and the form of an inverted cone. In other words, it is upside down. The last 16,000 yojanas of the narrow part of Sumeru are set into the ground, leaving 84,000 on the visible part above-ground. Taking the visible part, Sumeru is 16,000 yojanas in width at the base and 32,000 yojanas at the summit.

As already mentioned, Mount Sumeru is situated right at the middle of Ilāvṛta-varṣa, the central tract of land. In total, Ilāvṛta is 34,000 yojanas in length and breadth, which includes the 16,000 yojanas of Sumeru plus 9,000 yojanas on each side.

Mount Sumeru is what makes Jambūdvīpa look like a lotus. The appearance of the mountain, combined with the other mountain ranges around it, also makes the island look like an arena for the performance of yajñas, reminding all the inhabitants of the real purpose of life.

“Just north of Ilāvṛta-varṣa — and going further northward, one after another — are three mountains named Nīla, Śveta and Śṛṅgavān. These mark the borders of the three varṣas named Ramyaka, Hiraṇmaya and Kuru and separate them from one another. The width of these mountains is 2,000 yojanas [16,000 miles]. Lengthwise, they extend east and west to the beaches of the ocean of salt water. Going from south to north, the length of each mountain is one tenth that of the previous mountain, but the height of them all is the same.” (SB 5.16.8)

Nīla, Śveta, and Śṛṅgavān are the three long mountain ranges north of Ilāvṛta-varṣa that create the divisions between Ramyaka-varṣa, Hiraṇmaya-varṣa, and Uttarakuru-varṣa to the north. The width of all three mountain ranges is 2,000 yojanas, and each varṣa is 9,000.

Nīla is the longest, being situated closer to the center of the circular outline of Jambūdvīpa, while Śveta is shorter by one tenth (as indicated by the word daśāṁśādhikāṁśena). Śṛṅgavān is again one-tenth shorter than Śveta, being situated closer to the border of the circle. If taken literally, these proportions suggest that Jambūdvīpa is not a perfect geometrical circle, having a general circular outline, but locally irregular boundary patterns, analogous to the uneven coastlines of terrestrial continents.

In his purport to text 5.16.8, Prabhupāda mentions three verses from the Brahmāṇḍa Purāṇa that are quoted by Madhvācārya in his comment. These verses can be translated as:

yathā bhāgavate tūktaṁ, bhauvanaṁ kośa-lakṣaṇam
tasyāvirodhato yojyam, anya-granthāntare sthitam
maṇḍode puraṇaṁ caiva, vyatyāsaṁ kṣīra-sāgare
rāhu-soma-ravīṇāṁ ca, maṇḍalād dvi-guṇoktitām
vinaiva sarvam unneyaṁ, yojanābhedato ’tra tu

“Just as the Bhāgavata Purāṇa sets forth the description of the cosmic structure of Bhū-mandala, other texts also describe different details that should be reconciled without contradiction. Thus, even if other purāṇas present different arrangements for the position of the milk ocean, or different statements about the orbital measures of Rāhu, the moon, and the sun, these variations can be understood as arising from differences in the measure of the yojana.”

This sets the general tone for studying Vedic cosmology. The words of the texts should not be taken rigidly, but rather reconciled with other scriptural references and taken as parts of a harmonious description. Above all, we should not be too attached to minor details, since in any case the structure of the universe is perceived differently by different species, according to their level of consciousness and their sensory capacities. There are also differences in the length of the yojana, which can vary in different descriptions, creating apparent contradictions.

Even in the translation of Śrīla Prabhupāda, there are some apparent inconsistencies that can be reconciled if we take the descriptions as a whole, instead of being attached to the meaning of each particular word. SB 5.16.5 mentions that the length of Jambūdvīpa is one million yojanas, while later verses clarify it is 100,000 yojanas. Text 5.16.6 appears to describe all varṣas as having exactly the same length, while other verses describe a more complex arrangement, and so on.

“Similarly, south of Ilāvṛta-varṣa and extending from east to west are three great mountains named (from north to south) Niṣadha, Hemakūṭa and Himālaya. Each of them is 10,000 yojanas [80,000 miles] high. They mark the boundaries of the three varṣas named Hari-varṣa, Kimpuruṣa-varṣa and Bhārata-varṣa [India].” (SB 5.16.9)

Just like there are three mountain ranges and three varṣas north of Ilāvṛta, the same arrangement repeats to the south, with three mountains (Niṣadha, Hemakūṭa, Himālaya) and three varṣas (Hari-varṣa, Kimpuruṣa-varṣa, Bhārata-varṣa).

Our planet is somehow part of Bhārata-varṣa, but how exactly is open to interpretation, since Bhārata-varṣa is described as being much larger than our planet. “Bhārata-varṣa” is also often translated as “India”, as Prabhupāda mentions in his translation.

How can these two interpretations be reconciled? How can Bhārata-varsa simultaneously mean the whole planet and India?

In his research work, Sadaputa Prabhu concludes that apart from a cosmological model of the universe, the description of Bhū-mandala in the Fifth Canto describes, simultaneously, three other secondary models. This is possible due to the nature of the Sanskrit language, where the same words can have more than one meaning, and thus an expert poet is capable of composing sentences that have multiple simultaneous meanings.

According to him, the first of these secondary explanations is Bhū-mandala as a stereographic projection (or a planisphere) of our planet, taking the north pole as the center. This is commonly used to represent the features of a sphere on a map intended for astronomical or navigational purposes. A planisphere is very convenient in such situations because it allows one to calculate the position of stars and planets in the sky, as well as land and maritime routes, without entering into all the complexities of calculating the curvature of the earth. That’s basically what we do every time we use a map.

The second explanation is of Bhū-mandala as a topographic map of south-central Asia, offering a basic description of the geography of our planet, with a focus on the area of the Himalayas, India, and adjacent countries. This model describes the different rivers that flowed there in antiquity. In this secondary meaning, Bhārata-varṣa can be taken literally to mean the Indian subcontinent, bordered by the Himalayas.

The third explanation is of it as a map of the solar system. In this explanation, the borders of the different islands of Bhū-mandala describe the orbits of the planets of our solar system from the geocentric point of view adopted by the Purāṇas. Sadaputa Prabhu’s research confirmed that the borders of the islands of Bhū-mandala roughly match the orbits of the planets of our solar system.

“In the same way, west and east of Ilāvṛta-varṣa are two great mountains named Mālyavān and Gandhamādana respectively. These two mountains, which are 2,000 yojanas [16,000 miles] high, extend as far as Nīla Mountain in the north and Niṣadha in the south. They indicate the borders of Ilāvṛta-varṣa and also the varṣas known as Ketumāla and Bhadrāśva.” (SB 5.16.10)

The Mālyavān and Gandhamādana mountains mark the east and west boundaries of Ilāvṛta, separating it from Ketumāla-varṣa and Bhadrāśva-varṣa.

The Niṣadha and Nīla mountains run in parallel, from east to west, while Mālyavān and Gandhamādana run perpendicular to them, from north to south. This creates the distinctive layout of Bhū-mandala with a central square (Ilāvṛta) and the other varṣas arranged around it, with Ketumāla to the west, Bhadrāśva to the east, Ramyaka, Hiraṇmaya, and Uttarakuru to the north, and Hari, Kimpuruṣa, and Bhārata to the south.

When we hear such descriptions, mentioning mountains that are 80,000 miles high and so on, our first reaction may be to try to reason how this can be possible, creating different mental arguments to prove or disprove it. In his purport, however, Prabhupāda sets the correct mentality: we can’t properly understand even the features of our own planet, what to say about other parts of the cosmos, we can’t even perceive. Most of us understand very little about our surroundings, even considering just mundane knowledge. The best we can do in this context is to begin with the descriptions from the scriptures and the explanations of self-realized ācāryas, and then interpret other information in that light, trying to see the universe as a manifestation of the wonderful potencies of Kṛṣṇa, instead of a dead wasteland as concluded by modern theories. The layout of Bhū-mandala, with a gigantic, cone-shaped mountain made of solid gold, planted into the soil upside-down in the exact middle of a set of concentric rings doesn’t appear to make much sense following the framework of the universe appearing by chance, but it makes perfect sense in the context of an all-powerful God with an artistic sense crafting the material world as an inverted reflection of the spiritual realm.

As Prabhupāda mentions, “If we can appreciate the extensive energy of the Supreme Personality of Godhead, that will benefit us.”

“On the four sides of the great mountain known as Sumeru are four mountains — Mandara, Merumandara, Supārśva and Kumuda — which are like its belts. The length and height of these mountains are calculated to be 10,000 yojanas [80,000 miles].” (SB 5.16.11)

Sumeru is a very tall mountain, widening upward, like an inverted cone. Part of it is planted within the ground, but it has four subsidiary mountains standing as supporting braces on the four sides. These four mountains, named Mandara (to the east), Merumandara (to the south), Supārśva (to the west), and Kumuda (to the north), are similarly shaped. They are 10,000 yojanas tall and 10,000 yojanas in length. They are, however, narrower in width (shaped like canine teeth), fitting inside the space of 9,000 yojanas on each side between Sumeru and the adjacent mountains.

“Standing like flagstaffs on the summits of these four mountains are a mango tree, a rose apple tree, a kadamba tree and a banyan tree. Those trees are calculated to have a width of 100 yojanas [800 miles] and a height of 1,100 yojanas [8,800 miles]. Their branches also spread to a radius of 1,100 yojanas.” (SB 5.16.12)

There are four huge trees on top of these four mountains, like flagstaffs. The size of these trees gives an idea about the colossal scale of Bhū-mandala. Each of these trees is 1,100 yojanas tall, and the branches spread on a radius of 1,100 yojanas. For comparison, the diameter of the Earth is 7,918 miles, or 989.75 yojanas. In other words, each of these cosmic trees is larger than our planet in diameter!

“O Mahārāja Parīkṣit, best of the Bharata dynasty, between these four mountains are four huge lakes. The water of the first tastes just like milk; the water of the second, like honey; and that of the third, like sugarcane juice. The fourth lake is filled with pure water. The celestial beings such as the Siddhas, Cāraṇas and Gandharvas, who are also known as demigods, enjoy the facilities of those four lakes. Consequently they have the natural perfections of mystic yoga, such as the power to become smaller than the smallest or greater than the greatest. There are also four celestial gardens named Nandana, Caitraratha, Vaibhrājaka and Sarvatobhadra.” (SB 5.16.13-14)

Between the four supporting mountains, there are four celestial lakes and four celestial gardens, creating a luxuriant celestial environment that serves as a place of enjoyment for different classes of lower demigods, such as the Siddhas, Cāraṇas, and Gandharvas, as well as the many servants of Bhavānī, the wife of Lord Śiva.

The waters of these lakes taste, respectively, like milk, honey, sugarcane juice, and pure water. It’s not just about taste, however: these waters grant the natural perfections of mystic yoga, such as the power to become smaller than the smallest or greater than the greatest.

There is a certain hierarchy in the division of Bhū-mandala. The closer to the center, the higher the standard of living. The external parts of the structure are inhabited by human beings who have a similar standard of living as the inhabitants of Treta-yuga, while the ones who live at the very center, in Ilāvṛta-varṣa, live practically like demigods.

Bhārata-varṣa, however, is a special case, a place where souls who have exhausted the results of their past activities come to perform activities and accumulate a new set of karma that will bring them either upwards or downwards. To accommodate souls in different stages of evolution, Bhārata-varṣa goes through the sequence of Satya-yuga, Tretā-yuga, Dvāpara-yuga, and Kali-yuga.

“The best of the demigods, along with their wives, who are like ornaments of heavenly beauty, meet together and enjoy within those gardens, while their glories are sung by lesser demigods known as Gandharvas.” (SB 5.16.15)

The central region of Ilāvṛta-varṣa is generally not accessible to human beings and to the other inhabitants of Bhū-mandala. Only the ones who have the necessary qualifications can enter there. It is described that Kardama Muni and Devahūti, for example, visited these regions during their honeymoon in their flying castle. Apart from upa-devas, like the Siddhas and Cāraṇas, as well as especially qualified yogīs, like Kardama Muni, this place also serves as a resort region for the higher demigods, who come to enjoy there accompanied by their wives. When they do so, they are served by the Gandharvas.

The celestial rivers of Ilāvṛta-varṣa

The next verses, from 5.16.16 to 24, describe how the four great trees on top of the four supporting mountains of Mount Sumeru produce four celestial rivers that increase the opulence of the inhabitants of Ilāvṛta-varṣa:

“On the lower slopes of Mandara Mountain is a mango tree named Devacūta. It is 1,100 yojanas high. Mangoes as big as mountain peaks and as sweet as nectar fall from the top of this tree for the enjoyment of the denizens of heaven.
When all those solid fruits fall from such a height, they break, and the sweet, fragrant juice within them flows out and becomes increasingly more fragrant as it mixes with other scents. That juice cascades from the mountain in waterfalls and becomes a river called Aruṇodā, which flows pleasantly through the eastern side of Ilāvṛta.
The pious wives of the Yakṣas act as personal maidservants to assist Bhavānī, the wife of Lord Śiva. Because they drink the water of the river Aruṇodā, their bodies become fragrant, and as the air carries away that fragrance, it perfumes the entire atmosphere for eighty miles around.” (SB 5.16.16-18)

Hearing about the four great trees on top of the supporting mountains of Sumeru, one could be inclined to take the description as merely symbolic. After all, how could a tree be the size of a planet? If we go in this direction, however, we will end up taking the whole description as symbolic, and eventually take the whole Bhāgavatam as symbolic.

To avoid that, Prabhupāda insisted that the descriptions of Bhū-mandala and other cosmic structures should be accepted literally rather than symbolically. Just because these places are not found on our planet, it doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Any sane person will be forced to admit that there are many things about the universe we don’t know.

The idea of a real place that exists despite operating under seemingly different physical laws, without the same restraints we find on our planet, is emphasized in these verses. How can it be so?

Even in material science, it is accepted that other planets are radically different from earth. Let’s consider Saturn, for example. According to modern theories, it is not just a larger version of earth, but a gas giant where what we call “surface” is really just the altitude where the atmosphere becomes opaque. There, we never reach land, we just pass through layers of clouds until the air becomes so dense that the pressure can crush any structure we can conceive. As we go deep, matter itself behaves in ways we can never see on earth.

If one were to describe a place where winds blow at 1,800 km/h and where storms are larger than our planet, one would probably doubt that such a place can exist, but this is all observable in Saturn through telescopes. Similarly, Mars has 26 km tall mountains, Titan has lakes made of hydrocarbons (petrol-like), Triton has nitrogen geysers, and so on. If we can find such exotic places even in our gross dimension, we can just consider what kind of wonderful structures could be found in higher dimensions, where physical laws as we know them don’t apply. That’s what the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam describes.

The whole premise of the Vedic universe is based on the idea of different gradations of living beings experiencing reality according to their level of consciousness. Demigods have a lifestyle that is better than ours in every regard: power, knowledge, bodily beauty, mystic perfections, and so on. It’s thus not surprising that their abodes are also beautiful and opulent in ways that we can’t fully comprehend.

As one becomes more and more elevated in terms of consciousness and pious activities, one gains access to progressively more opulent abodes. Kṛṣṇa’s abode in the spiritual world is unlimitedly opulent, and it is thus not difficult for Him to create opulent, mystical abodes in this material world.

Apart from the four great lakes in Ilāvṛta-varṣa, there are also a number of great rivers. The first flows on the eastern side of Ilāvṛta. This river, however, does not start from springs, but from the great mango tree (named Devacūta) on top of Mandara Mountain. This cosmic tree, which has a height and radius of 1,100 yojanas, gives fruits the size of mountain peaks, sweet as nectar. These giant fruits fall from the tree and break on impact, creating a river of celestial juice that cascades from the top of Mandara Mountain, flowing through the eastern side of Ilāvṛta-varṣa.

The personal assistants of Bhavānī, the wife of Lord Śiva, drink this fragrant juice, and as a result their bodies become fragrant and perfume the whole atmosphere for 10 yojanas around them. This shows that just as everything else, the food consumed by demigods is also of a superior quality, with mystical attributes that sound incomprehensible to us. Just as one can freshen one’s breath by consuming spices like cinnamon, the inhabitants of Ilāvṛta can make their entire bodies perfumed by consuming this celestial juice.

Prabhupāda quotes a verse from the Vāyu Purāṇa in his purport to 5.16.16 as an additional reference: aratnīnāṁ śatāny aṣṭāv, eka-ṣaṣṭy-adhikāni ca, phala-pramāṇam ākhyātam, ṛṣibhis tattva-darśibhiḥ. This verse can be translated as: “Sages who are seers of the truth declare the size of these fruits to be 861 aratnis (about 400 meters).”

“Similarly, the fruits of the jambū tree, which are full of pulp and have very small seeds, fall from a great height and break to pieces. Those fruits are the size of elephants, and the juice gliding from them becomes a river named Jambū-nadī. This river falls a distance of 10,000 yojanas, from the summit of Merumandara to the southern side of Ilāvṛta, and floods the entire land of Ilāvṛta with juice.
The mud on both banks of the river Jambū-nadī, being moistened by the flowing juice and then dried by the air and the sunshine, produces huge quantities of gold called Jāmbū-nada. The denizens of heaven use this gold for various kinds of ornaments. Therefore all the inhabitants of the heavenly planets and their youthful wives are fully decorated with golden helmets, bangles and belts, and thus they enjoy life.” (SB 5.16.19-21)

On top of the Merumandara Mountain, there is another great tree that gives jambū fruits the size of elephants. These fruits produce another celestial river, called Jambū-nadī, that flows from the south side of Ilāvṛta-varṣa. The special property of the juice that forms this river is that it produces great quantities of gold when dried by the sun, supplying the inhabitants with as much gold as they want.

A scientifically minded person could argue that this is impossible, since on our planet, gold can be produced only using a nuclear reactor, but again, we are not speaking about a level of reality conditioned by the same physical laws. Yogis can produce gold, as well as other desirable objects, using a mystic perfection called prākāmya-siddhi. This shows that there are subtle potencies that can do things that would ordinarily be impossible. These mystical potencies, in turn, emanate from the Lord, and it is thus not surprising that He may transfer a small fragment of this potency to a celestial river, so it can produce gold.

One of the goals of the description is to challenge our perception of reality, forcing us to reckon with the fact that there is indeed a God, who can produce many wonderful things in different parts of the cosmos. If one has the desire to see this wonderful places or even live there for some time, this is also possible by simply performing devotional service, as in the case of Kardama Muni.

In his purport to text 20-21, Prabhupāda connects this opulence of the inhabitants of Ilāvṛta-varṣa with our current situation:

“In modern times, girls and ladies have ornaments made of plastic instead of gold, and plastic utensils are used instead of golden ones, yet people are very proud of their material wealth. Therefore the people of this age are described as mandāḥ sumanda-matayo manda-bhāgyā hy upadrutāḥ (Bhāg. 1.1.10). In other words, they are extremely bad and slow to understand the opulence of the Supreme Personality of Godhead. They have been described as sumanda-matayaḥ because their conceptions are so crippled that they accept a bluffer who produces a little gold to be God. Because they have no gold in their possession, they are actually poverty-stricken, and therefore they are considered unfortunate.”

From the perspective of a devotee, however, gold doesn’t have much value. One may, of course, use unlimited quantities of gold for Kṛṣṇa, but for his personal gratification, a devotee will not be very attracted. Gold is compared to stool in the teachings of Jaḍa Bharata because of its property of making one more propense to sense enjoyment. Prabhupāda tries to elevate us to this higher understanding in his purport:

“Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu has instructed devotees not to be allured by golden ornaments and beautifully decorated women. Na dhanaṁ na janaṁ na sundarīm: a devotee should not be allured by gold, beautiful women, or the prestige of having many followers. Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu, therefore, confidentially prayed, mama janmani janmanīśvare bhavatād bhaktir ahaitukī tvayi: “My Lord, please bless Me with Your devotional service. I do not want anything else.” A devotee may pray to be delivered from this material world. That is his only aspiration.”

If, however, one desires to enjoy both gold and sensual enjoyment, there is a proper place for that, as described here. We just need to follow the guidance of the scriptures for one life, and then be promoted to Ilāvṛta-varṣa or another celestial abode to enjoy a long life of material opulence.

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“Recently a young man started visiting our center and chanting, and even coming to maṅgala-ārati. He keeps asking me about onions and garlic. I gave him the basic answers, but he is still not satisfied. What more can be mentioned?”

One point that we can consider is that in Vaiṣnava philosophy, we don’t take food simply as nutrition but as something that affects our consciousness. The highest principle is to always remember Kṛṣṇa and never forget Him. Practically everything we do, or don’t, is connected with that. The ultimate reason why we don’t eat meat or gamble, for example, is that these things make us more entangled in material existence and push us away from Him. If eating garlic and onions would give us love of godhead, all our ācāryas would be doing it. Unfortunately, it gets in the way, and that’s why it is avoided.

As long as our mind is influenced by passion and ignorance, it is very difficult to be fixed in spiritual practice. That’s a mistake many of us make. We think that spiritual practice is just a matter of determination, of trying harder, but it has a lot to do with changing our habits. We can see that in the Gītā, Kṛṣṇa spends several chapters explaining the three material modes, so we can recognize the symptoms, habits, actions, etc., connected with each. This is not just theoretical knowledge; it is possibly the most practical part of the book.

It is further explained in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam:

“When the mode of goodness, which is luminous, pure and auspicious, predominates over passion and ignorance, a man becomes endowed with happiness, virtue, knowledge and other good qualities. When the mode of passion, which causes attachment, separatism and activity, conquers ignorance and goodness, a man begins to work hard to acquire prestige and fortune. Thus in the mode of passion he experiences anxiety and struggle. When the mode of ignorance conquers passion and goodness, it covers one’s consciousness and makes one foolish and dull. Falling into lamentation and illusion, a person in the mode of ignorance sleeps excessively, indulges in false hopes, and displays violence toward others.

When consciousness becomes clear and the senses are detached from matter, one experiences fearlessness within the material body and detachment from the material mind. You should understand this situation to be the predominance of the mode of goodness, in which one has the opportunity to realize Me.

You should discern the mode of passion by its symptoms — the distortion of the intelligence because of too much activity, the inability of the perceiving senses to disentangle themselves from mundane objects, an unhealthy condition of the working physical organs, and the unsteady perplexity of the mind. When one’s higher awareness fails and finally disappears and one is thus unable to concentrate his attention, his mind is ruined and manifests ignorance and depression. You should understand this situation to be the predominance of the mode of ignorance.” (SB 11.25.13-18)

To become fixed on the spiritual platform, we first need to situate ourselves in the mode of goodness. That’s the platform where the mind becomes peaceful, and we can fix our thoughts on Kṛṣṇa. The problem with garlic and onions is that they send us back, influencing us in the opposite direction. This is something recognized not just by Vaiṣnavas, but by other groups of spiritualists; it is not a matter of dogma, but of the study of practical effects. They push us towards passion and ignorance, making us more restless and prone to material activities, more impulsive, more prone to lust and anger, and less thoughtful in our actions. It makes us more dull or gross, less sensitive to subtle devotional feelings. It pushes our consciousness more in the direction of doing and achieving in the material platform and less in the direction of internal peace and clarity.

They are, of course, not in the same category of meat, which comes from violence or alcohol that directly affects our consciousness, but they also affect us in a noticeable way. This is one point that can make them more dangerous instead of less, because it tends to make us less careful. It is easy to understand that meat is something that has to be avoided, but garlic may seem innocent. It is indeed much less serious, but the problem is that by consuming it regularly, our consciousness becomes lower, and we tend to go to more negative things later. If one wants to just chant Hare Kṛṣṇa for now and continue in the next life, it may be ok, but if one wants to be serious in the spiritual process, that’s something to avoid.

There is also another important point that is often overlooked: foods with garlic and onions can’t be offered to Kṛṣṇa, just as industrialized foods and other impure items. In the Gītā (3.13), Kṛṣṇa mentions, “The devotees of the Lord are released from all kinds of sins because they eat food which is offered first for sacrifice. Others, who prepare food for personal sense enjoyment, verily eat only sin.”

We can chant the mantras, of course, but Kṛṣṇa will not really accept them, because they are fundamentally impure. This will deprive us of eating prasāda, which is another important factor in spiritual practice.

One could question this point of Kṛṣṇa not accepting food that contains garlic and onions, arguing that in another passage, He mentions that He eats what is offered with devotion. The point is, however, that devotion means offering things that are pleasant. If he mentions he doesn’t like something, and we deliberately put it in His food, is that really devotion?

If we want to invite a guest to our house, we need to feed him. Feeding a guest means offering what he likes to eat. If we know about his preferences, but we keep offering something he doesn’t like, that’s not good hospitality. Maybe he will not want to stay. Kṛṣṇa is the most exalted guest, and he explains His preferences in the Gītā and other books. He doesn’t demand much: even a leaf or flower will do. He can eat the same things we eat, but they have to be pure; that’s the point. As soon as we make our eating pure, we can offer everything to Kṛṣṇa, and everything works perfectly.

One could argue that garlic and onions are not directly mentioned in the Gītā, but the same applies to many other items. Nowhere in the Gītā does Kṛṣṇa say we should not smoke or drink beer, but we learn that these things are negative through paramparā. Kṛṣṇa gives the guidelines, and our ācāryas help us to apply these guidelines in practice.

The guideline for foods is given in Bg 17.8-10. The direct word is not there, but the description is clear enough:

“Foods dear to those in the mode of goodness increase the duration of life, purify one’s existence and give strength, health, happiness and satisfaction. Such foods are juicy, fatty, wholesome, and pleasing to the heart. Foods that are too bitter, too sour, salty, hot, pungent, dry and burning are dear to those in the mode of passion. Such foods cause distress, misery and disease. Food prepared more than three hours before being eaten, food that is tasteless, decomposed and putrid, and food consisting of remnants and untouchable things is dear to those in the mode of darkness.”

Once, in the very early days of our movement, Śyāmasundara Prabhu was appointed to carve the first deities of Jagannātha, Baladeva, and Subhadrā for ISKCON San Francisco. Once, when Śrīla Prabhupāda visited his workshop, he saw a pack of cigarettes on the floor. He knocked it out with his cane and told him, “Don’t let a small thing like cigarettes stand between you and Kṛṣṇa.” This summarizes the point. If something gets in the way, why continue doing it? It’s not about condemnation but about making our lives easier.

One could also bring up the point of using it as medicine. This is accepted. Practically anything can be used medicinally when needed, because in this case, we work from the principle of the greater good. Prabhupāda himself once prescribed garlic tea as a medicine for a lady disciple who was constantly sick. The point is about using it when there is no necessity.

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Kṛṣṇa becomes the Puruṣa-avatāras

One of the differences between God and ordinary souls is that God is unlimited. He can thus assume unlimited forms, each of them unlimited in potency. While we can do only one thing at a time, Kṛṣṇa can perform unlimited pastimes simultaneously in His unlimited forms. Kṛṣṇa is the source of all Viṣnu forms, just like a candle used to ignite many other candles. All candles emit a similar light, but still, there is one candle that is the original. Among the unlimited Viṣnu forms, there are three that are important in relation to the creation of the material universes. These are the Puruṣa-avatāras.

They are explained in a somewhat enigmatic way in the first canto of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam:

“Sūta said: In the beginning of the creation, the Lord first expanded Himself in the universal form of the puruṣa incarnation and manifested all the ingredients for the material creation. And thus at first there was the creation of the sixteen principles of material action. This was for the purpose of creating the material universes. A part of the puruṣa lies down within the water of the universe, from the navel lake of His body sprouts a lotus stem, and from the lotus flower atop this stem, Brahmā, the master of all engineers in the universe, becomes manifest. It is believed that all the universal planetary systems are situated on the extensive body of the puruṣa, but He has nothing to do with the created material ingredients. His body is eternally in spiritual existence par excellence.

The devotees, with their perfect eyes, see the transcendental form of the puruṣa who has thousands of legs, thighs, arms and faces — all extraordinary. In that body there are thousands of heads, ears, eyes and noses. They are decorated with thousands of helmets and glowing earrings and are adorned with garlands. This form [the second manifestation of the puruṣa] is the source and indestructible seed of multifarious incarnations within the universe. From the particles and portions of this form, different living entities, like demigods, men and others, are created.” (SB 1.3.1-5)

What does it mean?

The scriptures explain that the spiritual planets comprise three-quarters of everything that exists. These spiritual planets are the abode of liberated souls and the stage for the performance of unlimited, eternal pastimes. The remaining quarter comprises the causal ocean and the material creation.

Around these spiritual planets is the light of the impersonal Brahmājyoti, where many impersonalists live. In a corner of this vast spiritual, blissful existence is the causal ocean (kāraṇodaka), which is the abode of Lord Mahā-Viṣnu, the first of the Puruṣa-avatāras, responsible for creating and maintaining the material world.

The waters of the causal ocean are fully spiritual and mark the boundary between the spiritual and material worlds. They serve as the border between the two. The causal ocean is also described as the Virajā River, emphasizing this idea of a border between the spiritual and material realms. In the metaphor, one of the banks represents the spiritual world, and the other represents the material energy, the external potency of the Lord.

Beyond the waters of the causal ocean, there is pradhāna, the unmanifested, undifferentiated amalgamation of all material elements, the place where all material elements remain dissolved in perfect equilibrium. Pradhāna is the material energy in its dormant state, with no variety, no activity, and no manifestation of the three material modes. Sometimes it is described as being like a cloud on top of the waters of the causal ocean, but without ever touching them.

One way to imagine this dissolved stage of the material elements is to imagine pradhāna as being like milk, which is a mixture of carbs, proteins, fats, etc., everything dissolved in a homogeneous liquid. This pradhāna is agitated by the glance of Lord Mahā-Viṣṇu, which contains three components: kāla (the time energy), all the souls who desire to participate in the material creation, and Lord Sadāśiva, who acts as a guardian for them.

Just as cream comes to the top when raw milk is left overnight, this contact with kāla makes the three material modes become apparent. This, in turn, leads to a series of permutations, resulting in the appearance of the material elements. These elements amalgamate with the seeds of the universes that emanate from the breath of Mahā-Viṣṇu, resulting in the many material universes in their inactive state.

Sometimes we think that Mahā-Viṣṇu creates the universes already as fully formed balls of matter, but this view is not entirely correct. The universes are originally subtle, as reflections of the spiritual creation. They are covered by matter later on, as they move in the direction of the external potency. These innumerable universes float on top of the causal ocean, just like many balls or bubbles floating on water.

Great as it may be from our perspective, our universe is just one of these innumerable bubbles floating on the causal ocean. Since we can’t even estimate the limits of our own universe, it is impossible for us to understand the extent of the Lord’s creation.

However, just the appearance of huge balls of matter is not sufficient to create universes. After this process is completed, the Lord expands Himself and enters into each of these different universes as Garbhodakaśāyī Viṣnu. This is the form of the Lord who lies down on the Garbhodaka Ocean inside each universe. At first, the universe is empty, just like an empty shell, without any place to rest, so He fills half of it with water. Lord Śeṣa then manifests himself, acting as a bed, where the Lord comfortably rests.

Garbhodakaśāyī Viṣnu then gives birth to Lord Brahmā through a lotus flower coming from His navel. Brahmā is called “unborn,” not because he lives eternally, but because, different from everyone else, he has no material father or mother. His father is Lord Viṣnu Himself.

The Lord then expands again and becomes Kṣīrodakaśāyī Viṣnu, entering into everything as Paramātma, appearing in the heart of all living beings and even inside the atoms. We often think that there is a separate form of Paramātma in each living being and every atom, but in reality, there is just one Kṣīrodakaśāyī Viṣnu who sees everything and is present everywhere, just like the sun is one but at the same time shines everywhere.

The same Kṣīrodakaśāyī Viṣnu lives on a small island on the ocean of milk on the Polestar. 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 the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam.

Lord Kṣīrodakaśāyī Viṣnu is also known as Lord Hari, and He is the source of all the different incarnations that appear in this universe. Kṛṣṇa 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 (līlā-avatāras), He comes in every age to teach dharma (yuga-avatāras), He appears as an incarnation during the reign of each Manu (manvantara-avatāras), He empowers different living beings to perform wonderful activities (śaktyāveśa-avatāras), and so on. All these incarnations appear as expansions of Lord Kṣīrodakaśāyī Viṣnu.

There are thus three different forms of Viṣnu who participate in the creation of the material universes. They are all partial expansions of Kṛṣṇa but perform different roles. As Prabhupāda explains in his purport to SB 6.16.37:

“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.”

Brahmā lives for 311.04 trillion years, which corresponds to 100 years in his perspective. What happens at the end of this period? At the end of his life, the creation is withdrawn, and all the souls who were taking part in it merge back into the body of Mahā-Viṣṇu for a very long sleep during the inactive phase of the material manifestation. The material energy then returns to its original state as pradhāna.

The idea of the jīvas merging into the body of Mahā-Viṣṇu may sound strange at first, but it doesn’t mean they lose their identity. It’s just like a fish entering the ocean or a bird entering a tree. It simply describes proximity, not loss of identity.

In this way, we can see that all the components of the material creation are different potencies of the Lord. Mahā-Viṣṇu is His expansion, who lies on the causal ocean, which is a feature of His spiritual potency. Both pradhāna and māyā are features of His external potency. The time-energy and the jīvas are also potencies of the Lord, just as Lord Sadāśiva. The material elements and the cosmic manifestation itself are nothing more than the same material energy previously present in the pradhāna after being agitated by the contact with these different potencies.

The material energy is also spiritual in nature, being one of the potencies of the Lord. However, the presence of Māyā, the illusory potency, makes us see it as separate from the Lord, as an object of our enjoyment. This is what makes the cosmic creation appear material. The material creation is thus illusory, but it is not false. The Lord appears inside of it in many different incarnations, but He never comes in contact with the material energy and never falls under the control of Māyā. Because He remains transcendental, He can free us if we so desire.

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Jambūdvīpa is described as being circular in form (round like the leaf of a lotus flower), with a length and breadth of 100,000 yojanas (800,000 miles), as confirmed in SB 5.20.2. It’s difficult to conceive something this size, but just for comparison, the equatorial circumference of our planet is about 24,901 miles, which is about 3,113 yojanas. If we do the math, Jambūdvīpa is 2,547 times larger than the entire surface area of earth!

Jambūdvīpa is divided into nine varṣas, or tracts of land, separated by gigantic mountains, whose size is almost inconceivable for us. For example, there are four great mountains surrounding Mount Sumeru (Mandara, Merumandara, Supārśva, and Kumuda), which are 10,000 yojanas, or 80,000 miles high! For comparison, Mount Everest, the highest mountain on our planet, is about 5.5 miles (0.69 yojanas) high. Again, we are speaking about a difference of orders of magnitude.

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“In the Bhāgavatam and related texts, Gaṅgā is described as descending from the spiritual realm, touching the Lord’s lotus feet, flowing downward, being carried by Lord Śiva, and then coming to the earthly plane. At the same time, in our ordinary geographical observation, the Gaṅgā appears to originate from Gaumukh in the Himalayas, like other rivers fed by glaciers. How to reconcile these two descriptions, the scriptural and the observable, especially when speaking to students coming from a pious background but also well familiar with scientific knowledge?”

Yes, the description of the descent of the river Ganges from the coverings of the universe all the way to the Himalayas can be challenging to say the least, since we do not see a river flowing through space, coming to the moon, and from there coming to our planet. It starts, however, to make more sense when we keep in mind that the universe described in the Vedas is multidimensional.

Often, we tend to think that we live in a Euclidean universe where the dimensions are the same everywhere, matter is the same everywhere, and so on. This is also the general scientific interpretation. However, the universe described in the Vedas goes beyond this view, describing different levels of reality. This understanding is essential to reconciling descriptions of the universe found in the Purāṇas with the modern understanding of cosmology and physical reality.

This becomes easier to understand when we consider the topic of the existence of the soul. We accept that the soul exists and that the soul travels from one body to another. Most pious people will agree with that principle. However, what leaves the body is not just the soul, but the subtle body, composed of vital airs, mind, intelligence, ego, etc. In this way, the self that leaves the body and goes to another body is not purely spiritual. There is a soul there, surrounded by all of these material coverings that form the subtle body. That’s also a body composed of material elements. Why then can’t we see it? Why can’t we see the subtle body going out of the body and entering a new body? Why can’t we develop instruments that can register this movement?

The point is that although material, the subtle body is, by definition, subtle. It is matter, but matter of a refined type we can’t perceive with our senses or measure with our instruments. We have a similar situation when we speak about demigods, different planetary systems, hell, asuras, and so on. It’s there, but we cannot see them.

The Polestar is described as the planet of Dhruva and the abode of Kṣīrodakaśāyī Viṣnu. However, even though it is a very bright star, we can’t expect to point a telescope and see Lord Viṣnu lying down there, just as we don’t see apasaras when we go to the moon.

In this way, we have the spiritual platform, the subtle platform, and the gross platform of reality where we live. In the gross platform, the universe appears to be a vast cosmic desert, without many signs of life outside our planet. On the subtle level, we have the demigods and most of the other populations described in the Vedas, Bhū-mandala, and so on, while on the spiritual platform, we have the spiritual planets.

The river Ganges starts from the Causal Ocean as a spiritual river. As it enters the universe, it manifests as a flow in the subtle platform, subtle water that the demigods can see, and transport in their vimānas all the way to the celestial moon. From there, this subtle river flows to the intermediate planetary system of Bhū-mandala, falling on the head of Lord Śiva, and eventually reaching our planet. This spiritual river is not only composed of spiritual water but also has a predominating deity, Gaṅgā. Just as there is a demigod who controls the rain, Indra, and another who controls the sun, Surya, the river Ganges also has a personification. Gaṅgā is thus simultaneously a river and a goddess who married Śāntanu and became the mother of Bhīṣma.

All of this, however, happens in the subtle platform of the demigods. It’s not something we can see with our senses. This spiritual river then combines with the gross water that comes from the glacier, producing the Ganges that is visible to us, which is a combination of both. There is gross water, which we can bathe in, and that quenches our thirst, but at the same time, there is a spiritual quality that purifies us. When we study it with our instruments, however, we can detect and measure only the gross water. The spiritual quality can only be felt by those who are spiritually advanced.

The same is valid for most other aspects of the Vedic universe. There is a spiritual dimension that includes the soul, God, the incarnations of Viṣnu, the spiritually nourishing aspect of prasāda, and so on. There is a subtle dimension that includes the demigods, the different planetary systems described in the Puranas, the celestial moon, and so on, and there is the gross physical aspect, the atoms we can touch and measure. When these three levels are understood, it all makes sense.

When we speak with pious people, it is generally not difficult to agree on this point because they generally already accept the existence of a spiritual plane we can’t directly see by believing in the soul, reincarnation, and so on. We just have to connect this with the subtle plane, and from there with the explanations from the Puranas, which describe reality as being composed of 14 levels, represented by 14 different planetary systems.

When we speak with skeptics in general, it becomes much more difficult because they are usually limited only to the gross aspects of the cosmos. The path in this case would be to first come to the point about ghosts and other evidence of a subtle plane around us, and if this can be established, expand it to a description of levels of reality that we can’t detect with our senses, culminating with the spiritual level. Only when this is agreed upon does it become possible to enter into other descriptions, like the descent of Gaṅgā.

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The origin of everything

The essential point in Vaiṣnava philosophy, and in the Vedas in general, is the existence of a Supreme Person who is the creator of everything that exists. The universe thus doesn’t appear by chance; it is the result of a planned process of creation.

Who is this supreme person? This is a point of contention between students of the Vedas, but the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, after describing different incarnations of the Supreme Brahmān who appear inside the material universe, declares (1.3.28):

ete cāṁśa-kalāḥ puṁsaḥ, kṛṣṇas tu bhagavān svayam
indrāri-vyākulaṁ lokaṁ, mṛḍayanti yuge yuge

“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. All of them appear on planets whenever there is a disturbance created by the atheists. The Lord incarnates to protect the theists.”

We thus accept Kṛṣṇa as the Supreme Personality of Godhead and the source of all other incarnations. This by itself saves us many lifetimes of philosophical debate.

The term “Supreme Personality of Godhead” was coined by Prabhupāda to convey a series of philosophical conclusions that are essential to understanding the teachings of the scriptures, including the universe in which we live. This term, by itself, contains some of the main conclusions of the Vedanta-sūtra:

a) God is a person, with desires, activities, and so on.

b) He possesses different energies, or potencies, and acts through them.

c) There are many controllers, incarnations, and powerful people, but Kṛṣṇa is supreme among them. He is the supreme origin; there is nothing behind Him.

Kṛṣṇa has three main potencies: the spiritual or internal potency (which includes the spiritual world), the external potency (which provides the ingredients for the material creation), and the marginal potency (us, the souls who can choose between taking part in one or the other). The material creation is like an inverted image of the spiritual creation. Everything that exists here also exists there, but there it exists in its original form.

Just like a reflection looks like the original image, but it is inverted, the material creation is the opposite of the spiritual world in many ways. It is temporary instead of eternal; it is based on ignorance instead of knowledge, and so on. This idea of an inverted reflection is useful to understand the material creation and appreciate Kṛṣṇa’s ingenuity in creating an illusory world for us, conditioned souls, to play.

The study of the ingredients of a product can help us to understand its nature and what to do with it. So, what are the ingredients of this material world?

The external potency includes matter and Māyā, the illusory potency. Matter is the ingredient of everything that exists in this material world, and Māyā is the potency that makes us identify with it. Māyā is based on ignorance of our real self and on misunderstanding the nature of this world. The antidote for it is transcendental knowledge.

The study of material creation and the study of the universe are two of the branches of this spiritual knowledge. Just studying the universe as a mechanical creation, as done in modern cosmology, often leads to the opposite result, making one conclude that there is no God and thus just increasing one’s ignorance. However, when we study the universe as Kṛṣṇa’s creation, seeing His blue hand behind everything, this study leads to spiritual realization. That’s what we try to offer in this book.

What is the necessity, one may argue, of speaking about Kṛṣṇa in a book that speaks about the universe? Can’t we just skip the theological part and go to the hard facts about the structure of the cosmos? The answer is no. That’s not possible. The cosmic manifestation is inseparable from Kṛṣṇa and loses its meaning when divorced from Him, just as a hand loses its value when cut off from the body. Trying to study the universe separately from Kṛṣṇa is just like trying to know a person by studying the dead body. It will never work.

That’s precisely the mistake made in modern cosmology, and also the mistake made by many students of the Vedas. When Kṛṣṇa is taken out of the picture, the universe is seen as simply the combination of material elements, and its real nature and purpose escape us.

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Chapter 1: The Vedic Universe

The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam explains that our universe is divided into 14 planetary systems. Each planetary system is formed by millions of different planets or stars spread throughout the cosmos, but they are categorized based on the level of consciousness of the inhabitants. In the Vedic model, consciousness creates reality. The environment we live in, including the type of body and senses we have, is determined by our previous consciousness, and similarly, what we do now shapes our consciousness in a certain way, and that will determine where we go next. In this way, we continuously travel through these 14 planetary systems, following the wheel of saṁsāra.

Here we have a diagram showing the order of the planetary systems in the Vedic model:

The point to keep in mind about this image is that it is not a telescope map of the universe, but a map of levels of consciousness. The planets and stars that form these different planetary systems do not appear neatly arranged in disks we can see using our telescopes, at least not in our gross reality. The point the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam makes is that we are currently situated in the intermediate level of this sequence, and the goal of human life is to progress to the higher levels, culminating with liberation.

At the bottom of the sequence are the seven lower planetary systems inhabited by the asuras, where materialism and godlessness predominate. These places are compared to a pit because once one falls in, there are not many opportunities for getting out again. We live in Bhūrloka, the intermediate planetary system immediately above them. Our planet, Bhārata-varṣa, is special because it is a place where souls come to create a new set of karma that will influence their destiny for many lives to come. That’s the universal test room, so to speak, where we receive a short life to prove ourselves. According to our desires and actions, we can be elevated or degraded to any place in the cosmos, or even go beyond it, reaching the border regions of the pradhāna, going further, up to the effulgence of the impersonal Brahmājyoti, or returning home, back to Godhead, to our eternal position in the spiritual world.

Above our plane is Bhuvarloka. Its lower levels are inhabited by subtle beings, such as the Yakṣas and Rākṣasas. These are subtle regions rich in material opulence, under the control of Kuvera, the treasurer of the demigods. The existence of Bhuvarloka introduces a concept that is very central in the model of the Vedas, which is the concept of multiple dimensions. This abode of Kuvera is very close to us; it is described as starting in the upper atmosphere. From our point of view, there is nothing there; it is just rarefied air that gradually becomes thinner as we go upward. From their perspective, however, there are lakes, forests, and palaces. Because they live in a higher dimension, their bodies as well as their abodes are made of a subtle, or refined, form of matter that is invisible to us. As a result, they can see us, but we can’t see them. A little higher, are the abodes of the lower demigods, such as the Siddhas, Cāraṇas, and Vidyādharas. Human beings can gain access to their realm only through pious merit and purification of one’s existence. There is no space probe or weapon that can force our way there.

Still higher is Svargaloka, the celestial system, where the demigods live. The description given in the Fifth Canto puts Svargaloka very far from us, extending up to the Polestar, the abode of Maharaja Dhruva. The pious souls who take birth there can enjoy a life of great opulence for 10,000 years of the demigods. One day for them equals one year for us, resulting in an extremely long lifetime from our point of view.

Still higher are the planetary systems of Maharloka, Janaloka, Tapoloka, and Satyaloka, inhabited by highly elevated souls. Different from Svargaloka, these are not places for sensual enjoyment but places for advanced spiritual cultivation.

Maharloka and Janaloka are inhabited by great sages who can perfectly control their senses and wholeheartedly worship the Lord through the performance of sacrifices. Sages living in Maharloka can stay there until the end of the day of Brahmā. At the time of the partial destruction triggered by his night, the fire emitted by Lord Ananta destroys all the lower planets of the universe, up to Svargaloka. The scale of time given in the Bhāgavatam for this process of destruction roughly corresponds to the phenomenon of the sun becoming a red giant and engulfing our planet, which is predicted in astrophysics.

Maharloka is not directly destroyed, but it becomes too hot even for the great sages who live there. Those who are sufficiently qualified have at this point the possibility of ascending to the next planetary system, Janaloka, where they can live longer. The inhabitants of Janaloka, Tapoloka, and Brahmāloka, the three topmost planetary systems, are essentially deathless. They can continue living for trillions of years, until the end of the universe.

Tapoloka is the abode of the four Kumāras, the four celibate sons of Brahmā, as well as other great yogis who spend their time in solitary meditation. Beyond this very subtle realm, there is Satyaloka, the abode of Lord Brahmā and the highest planetary system. Souls who attain this abode remain engaged in the worship of Lord Garbhodakaśāyī Viṣnu, together with Brahmā, and normally go back to Godhead together with him at the end of his life, when the universe is finally destroyed.

Each of us may take our next birth in any of these planetary systems, according to our level of qualification. Great devotees, however, are unrestricted. They can go to any planet they like, be it material or spiritual. Yogis generally don’t have access to the spiritual planets, but they can still transfer themselves to higher material planets, while materialists can’t go higher than Svargaloka, even if they are extraordinarily pious by material standards. More often than not, they just glide down to the lower planetary systems, where they become progressively more restricted.

People like to talk about the freedom of doing whatever they want, but this is not real freedom. In conditioned life, “doing whatever we want” means just following the dictates of the mind and senses, which is actually a form of slavery. Real freedom is attained when we cultivate spiritual knowledge and learn to control our senses.

In general, as one goes upwards, the desire to enjoy one’s senses is reduced, and by the time one reaches Satyaloka, it is almost completely gone, and one can go back to Godhead at the end of the universe together with Lord Brahmā. Devotees, however, are a special case. They hear about Kṛṣṇa’s pastimes and practice devotional service, and in this way tune up their consciousness directly to the reality of the spiritual world. Obtaining this higher taste, by the time they leave their bodies they are not interested in anything more of this material world and are ready to go back home, back to Godhead.

There is also another, much longer path, that yogis who are going upwards by their own power may take. After Satyaloka, there are the seven elemental coverings of the universe, respectively composed of elemental earth, water, fire, air, ether, mahat-tattva, and false ego, with each covering being ten times greater than the previous. It’s described in the Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta that the personification of the material energy lives in each of these coverings, worshiping a different form of the Lord. Yogis who are in the ascending process can gradually go through each one of these coverings, where they have access to objects of sense gratification more refined than anything available inside the universe, enjoying very long lives without any trace of pain. In this way, the yogi can satisfy any remaining material desires he may still have.

An analogy that could be used to explain such a refined level of sense gratification is that of a pig eating and a person eating in an expensive restaurant. Both enjoy eating, but the enjoyment of the pig is very gross, while the enjoyment of the human is more refined. While in the coverings, the yogi has the understanding that there is nothing better to be enjoyed anywhere in the material universe; therefore, when he finally becomes tired of the enjoyment there, he doesn’t have any desire to return, just as a rich person eating in a restaurant does not desire to become a pig and eat scraps.

We can see that a yogi who goes through this gradual ascending path can also achieve perfection, but only after an extremely long period, after passing through the different planetary systems and all the seven coverings of the material universe, a process painfully slow.

A devotee, on the other hand, can directly go to the spiritual world by just serving Kṛṣṇa and concentrating his or her mind on Him. This direct process of devotional service is the most auspicious and effective way of deliverance, and that’s the message of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam. All the cosmological and metaphysical knowledge offered there is just to help us realize that there is no better path and thus chalk the path of devotion with confidence.

As Śukadeva Goswami concludes at the end of chapter 2.2:

“For those who are wandering in the material universe, there is no more auspicious means of deliverance than what is aimed at in the direct devotional service of Lord Kṛṣṇa.
The great personality Brahmā, with great attention and concentration of the mind, studied the Vedas three times, and after scrutinizingly examining them, he ascertained that attraction for the Supreme Personality of Godhead Śrī Kṛṣṇa is the highest perfection of religion.”
“O King, it is therefore essential that every human being hear about, glorify and remember the Supreme Lord, the Personality of Godhead, always and everywhere.”

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Many passages recommend that a devotee should regularly visit, and if possible, even live in a holy place, such as Vṛndāvana or Mayapur. In SB 4.8.42, for example, Prabhupāda mentions:

“Places of pilgrimage yield a special advantage for a devotee in quickly advancing his spiritual life. Lord Kṛṣṇa lives everywhere, but still it is very easy to approach Him in holy places of pilgrimage because these places are inhabited by great sages. Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa says that He lives wherever His devotees are chanting the glories of His transcendental activities. There are many places of pilgrimage in India, and especially prominent are Badarī-nārāyaṇa, Dvārakā, Rāmeśvara and Jagannātha Purī. These sacred places are called the four dhāmas. Dhāma refers to a place where one can immediately contact the Supreme Lord. To go to Badarī-nārāyaṇa one has to pass through Hardwar on the path to the Supreme Personality of Godhead. Similarly, there are other holy places of pilgrimage, such as Prayāga (Allahabad) and Mathurā, and the topmost of them all is Vṛndāvana. Unless one is very advanced in spiritual life, it is recommended that he live in such holy places and execute devotional service there.”

We can practically see that many devotees visit holy places and, in fact, become more inspired and more fixed in their spiritual practice. In many cases, the difference can be radical.

On the other hand, we can also observe that many devotees visit holy places but get the opposite result: instead of being helped by them, they end up facing many challenges in their spiritual practice afterward. If the holy places are so pure and offer so many opportunities for spiritual upliftment, why is the result not always positive?

The point is that although the holy dhāmas are very powerful, they can be a double-edged sword. In the same way the results of devotional service executed there are amplified, allowing one to quickly advance, the results of offenses and sinful activities are also amplified, creating the possibility of a sharp fall down.

We can see that in his purports, Prabhupāda always emphasizes the point of visiting holy places to associate with the saintly persons who live there, often mentioning that one who visits holy places just to bathe in the rivers is no more intelligent than an ass or a cow. Asses are the epitome of ignorance, and cows are certainly very pious and sāttvic, but not particularly intelligent. This comparison thus illustrates two types of people who can’t see beyond mere rituals.

One who goes to holy places to just bathe or perform rituals is surely missing out, but this is not inherently bad, it is just we are not getting the most out of it. There is, however, something that is seriously dangerous: holy places are the home not only of saints but also of sahajiyās, ordinary materialists, and even common criminals. As the holy places amplify both the good and the bad, such persons when living in the dharma can be quite a dangerous association, much more than in other places.

That’s why it’s generally recommended that one visit the holy places as part of a group, and stay there just a few weeks at a time. We should take a visit to the holy places as something serious, not just an ordinary tourist vacation.

If we just accept whatever conditions we have got and spend our time attending programs, hearing, and doing service (instead of just trying to satisfy our material needs), we have the chance of making a lot of progress even in just a few days. However, the longer we stay, the higher the possibility of developing a proud attitude, taking things for granted, finding the wrong type of association, and starting to offend others. If we fall into this path, the results can become quite bad, quite fast.

It’s especially important to strictly follow the four principles and avoid any type of sinful activities. Śrila Bhaktivinoda Thākura explains that sins can usually be easily washed away by the chanting of the holy names, but sins executed in a holy place become a very hard knot in the heart of the conditioned soul that is very difficult to destroy. Śrila Prabhupāda, for example, was showing concern about single Western women living in Vṛndāvana due to the possibility of them finding boyfriends and having illicit relationships in the holy dharma.

The longer we plan to stay, the more we should be careful. We will always see people doing all kinds of things around us, but what is important is what we do, and not what others do. They will get the results for their activities, and we will get the results for our own activities.

Holy places are thus places that exacerbate the free will of each soul. If we want to advance spiritually, they give us that, but if we desire to become degraded, they also make it possible in real time.

Although both possibilities are there, we should not be scared. The opportunity of advancement by visiting holy places is too big to miss. The point is just that we should be careful. The best is to visit the holy places as part of a group, led by an advanced devotee. Usually, these groups stay for a short while in each place, with a routine of solid spiritual practice. One can also go with a friend who already knows the place; the main point is to surround ourselves with good association and spend our time there engaged in spiritual activities. We can just ask ourselves, honestly, how long can we maintain a standard of solid spiritual practice, waking up early, going to the morning program, eating only prasādam, chanting a lot of rounds, etc. For some it may be one day, for others, one week, or maybe even a month or a year. Whatever the number is, that’s a good general plan for our visit.

Many of us may have a desire to live permanently in a holy place the first time we go there. That’s surely a good sentiment, but in practice it’s not so easy. One may rent or buy a flat there and keep some money in the bank for living, but this is just the beginning. To live in a holy place, we need to radically adjust our consciousness, being able to tune in with the spiritual atmosphere. Every holy place is like a portal where the material and spiritual worlds meet. According to our consciousness, we may tune up one or another frequency. Some go to Vṛndāvana and see the kalpa-vṛkṣa trees, while others see the hogs and monkeys. One who is in material consciousness may have a really hard time living in a holy place, develop a long list of complaints, and eventually decide to leave.

Usually, it takes a long time for us to properly adjust our consciousness to be able to really access the spiritual frequency of the holy place. The safest way to do that is to have short and regular visits for a few years and gradually try to reinforce our spiritual practice over time.

Śrīla Prabhupāda was quite insistent on temples making arrangements for all resident devotees to visit Mayapur and Vṛndāvana once per year. When a temple president argued that it was too expensive, Prabhupāda argued back that they could fast during the year, and thus save money for visiting India, making the point that to visit the holy places is more important than eating opulently.

One may not be able to visit every year due to different circumstances, but we should not miss the chance when it appears. We need to be careful, however, to get the most benefit while at the same time avoiding the dangers.

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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Nowadays, much is discussed about climate change. The planet is becoming hotter, and this is causing a series of climate anomalies that are making the lives of millions of people around the world more difficult. Researchers conclude that the planet is becoming hotter due to the emission of CO₂ and other greenhouse gases, but this is actually just the apparent cause. The real cause is greediness, which leads to the overexploitation of natural resources, and such greediness comes from a lack of spiritual values.

Greed leads to industrial extraction and industrial production, creating a host of unnecessary goods that can be sold for profit. Overproduction combined with marketing leads to overconsumption, which leads to an artificial lifestyle, where people have to work almost like slaves to buy things they don’t really need. All of this leads to an erosion of spiritual values, and as people become more materialistic, the cycle is reinforced.

As Śrila Prabhupāda points out on SB 1.14.3: “A man becomes too greedy for wealth and power when he has no higher objective in life and when he thinks that this earthly life of a few years is all in all.”

Climate change is thus just one symptom inside a bigger pattern: pollution, soil depletion, destruction of forests and animal life, depletion of natural resources, mental illness, moral and spiritual degradation, etc. Forgetfulness of God leads to sense gratification, since that’s the path every conditioned soul tries to use to fill the emptiness of a materialistic lifestyle, and a path of unrestricted sense gratification leads to individual and collective karmic reactions that bring only future misery.

The Vedas offer us a concept of sustainable living based on living in connection with nature and with Kṛṣṇa. This system is called Varnāśrama. We often think of Varnāśrama as a caste system, but this is just another misconception. The core of the Varnāśrama system is actually not the division of society into classes but a simple, progressive lifestyle based on cow protection and agriculture. The social divisions are simply a natural division that facilitates that.

Nowadays, we use an industrial approach to the production of food, using machines, chemical fertilizers, and GMO seeds to achieve the best possible yields. The problem with this approach is threefold. The first issue is that it is highly destructive to the environment, destroying the ecosystems and exhausting the very arable lands we depend on for our survival. The second problem is that food produced in this way is low in nutrients and highly contaminated by the chemicals used to control pests. People can’t be healthy or happy eating this type of food, as we can practically see all around. Artificial food leads to health problems that push us in the direction of an artificial health system that is often more effective in bankrupting families than in saving lives.

The third problem is that it causes unemployment. A tractor can do the work of thousands of people, who don’t have any other option than to go to the cities. The abundance of cheap labor in the cities is exploited by the capitalists to create all kinds of products and services, which leads to an increasingly artificial and unhealthy lifestyle.

In a varnāśrama society, more people live in the land, producing organic food that nourishes not only the body but also the spiritual intellect of the people, helping society to progress in the right direction. Organic agriculture, with the use of bulls for labor and cows for the production of milk, is the only system that is sustainable in the long run. In fact, it was a system that allowed humanity to prosper for millions of years, while modern civilization is already showing signs of collapse after just two centuries.

The industrial model of food production has several problems. The first problem is that it requires constant external inputs (fertilizer, pesticides, fuel). When the flow of these supplies is disturbed by wars and other causes, cultivation is interrupted or production drops, causing famines.

In the Gītā (3.14-15), Kṛṣṇa mentions that “All living bodies subsist on food grains, which are produced from rains. Rains are produced by performance of yajña [sacrifice], and yajña is born of prescribed duties. Regulated activities are prescribed in the Vedas, and the Vedas are directly manifested from the Supreme Personality of Godhead. Consequently the all-pervading Transcendence is eternally situated in acts of sacrifice.”

Modern people often reject this process, preferring to depend on a modern economy, but this is making our lives riskier instead of more stable. This is without even entering into the question of farmer dependency, debt, monocultures, and so on, which simply add to the human cost.

The Vedic village model, on the other hand, builds resilience: local seed saving, mixed crops, local dairy production, local labor, and so on. Cities are there, serving as commercial and administrative centers, but they are smaller, inside what is practically viable, and not giant megalopolises sustained by artificial supply chains.

One could argue that with more people involved in food production, the economy would become smaller, but that’s exactly the point. The whole economic model is built on a hoax, on replacing essential needs, such as nutritious food, human relations, spiritual values, and security, with artificial products we can put a price tag on. The point is exactly to reduce these artificial, negative aspects of human society and make the essential needs available to all. That’s an increase in living standards, not a reduction.

To properly work, however, the varnāśrama system must be, in turn, based on spiritual values. As long as people don’t have spiritual goals in their lives, they will continue being greedy and uncontrollably exploiting the resources of nature, creating pollution and environmental degradation.

This process happened in the past, when the greedy Hiranyākṣa exploited the natural resources of the planet to the extent that it was moved out of its orbit, leading to the pastime of Varāhadeva killing him and putting the planet back in its orbit.

People can discuss different solutions for reducing the emissions that are driving climate change. Transitioning to renewable energy, reducing waste, etc., are fine, but without attacking the core of the problem, materialism, the problem will never be solved. Even if an electric car is two times more energy intensive, if we just double the number of cars, we go nowhere.

In one sense, we are the true culprits of climate change, since we have the only knowledge that can reverse it, but we are not doing enough to spread it. Instead, we are often distracted by the idea of using fewer plastic bags or using natural gas instead of coal. While these things may help, they do nothing to attack the core of the problem. Even if everyone stops using plastic bags and all industries switch to natural gas, still, the dominant materialism will keep moving things in the wrong direction.

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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In the Bhagavad-gītā, Kṛṣṇa explains that the soul is present everywhere. Prabhupāda explains that this means that there are souls living everywhere in the universe, even in seemingly improbable places, like the sun. The soul is not sterilized by fire or any other material condition; therefore, wherever it goes, the soul just creates a body for itself using the available material elements. In the sun, the soul will just create a body made out of plasma or other subtle elements, fit to live there.

Souls are also found in all forms of life. This means souls are present even in the bodies of plants, microbes, and so on. Matter by itself can’t show symptoms of life or consciousness. Whenever there is life, it means there is a soul there, suffering and enjoying the conditions of that particular body.

Considering that the soul is spiritual and is originally part of Kṛṣṇa’s spiritual energy, it may be difficult to believe a soul can fall so low as to the point of becoming a plant of microbe, but this shows how serious the choices we make in human life are. The material creation exists not just as a playground for the illusioned souls but also as a place where we can have a chance to recover our original spiritual consciousness and return to our original spiritual nature. The difficulty is that the more we become sinful and materialistic, the farther we become from it. The material world is just like a pool of quicksand, and once we fall into it, the tendency is that we just become more and more degraded following insatiable material desires.

That’s not Kṛṣṇa’s fault. He creates the material world as a place where everyone can live happily and gradually progress in spiritual realization. See, for example, what he mentions in the third chapter of the Gītā:

“In the beginning of creation, the Lord of all creatures sent forth generations of men and demigods, along with sacrifices for Viṣṇu, and blessed them by saying, “Be thou happy by this yajña [sacrifice] because its performance will bestow upon you everything desirable for living happily and achieving liberation.” The demigods, being pleased by sacrifices, will also please you, and thus, by cooperation between men and demigods, prosperity will reign for all.”

The problem is that we may refuse to follow this divine order and instead create pain and misery for other living entities in our pursuit of personal gratification. History is full of tyrants and dictators who created great suffering for others. The more one goes on this path, the harder it is to go back. At a certain point, such a soul becomes incorrigible. There are then only three possible paths for redemption:

a) One can become such a great demon that he may be liberated by being killed by Kṛṣṇa.

b) One can become a great Māyāvādi or impersonalist and achieve impersonal liberation

c) One can become so sinful that he goes to hell.

Kṛṣṇa killing demons is His ultimate mercy upon them, freeing the soul from the sinful coverings and absorbing it in His personal effulgence, where they can live in peace for some time. Because the impersonal brahmajyoti is not the original position of the soul, one may eventually come back, but when these souls fall back into the material world, they start again as demigods or pious people, from where they have the opportunity to become devotees and develop their devotional service.

Māyāvādis and other types of impersonalists go on a similar path. Just like the demons, they envy Kṛṣṇa and thus can’t accept the path of devotional service to Him. They can’t even accept Him as a person, trying instead to reduce Him to an impersonal mass. Still, if one can follow some kind of spiritual sādhana, he may eventually attain impersonal liberation, where he becomes purified and can eventually fall back to the material world as a demigod or pious person and find his path.

What about the third path? What happens when a very sinful soul goes to hell? Basically, this material identity is destroyed. The Yamadūtas impose such harsh punishments upon such a person that the consciousness is practically destroyed. The soul is, of course, never destroyed, but the material identity with which the soul identifies is. The consciousness thus degrades to the level of a microbe or plant and from there is put low in the evolutionary process, starting from such a low body and from there gradually progressing, migrating through the 8,400,000 forms of life and thus gradually evolving back to the human form, in a process that can take trillions of years. In this way, a new consciousness is gradually formed, and when the soul has again the chance to take a new human form, one has the opportunity to make the right choices, becoming a devotee, or at least a pious person.

It’s important to understand this path so we don’t fall into it. Every time we see a plant or lower animal, we can understand that this is a soul who once made this mistake, went down the sinful path, and is now gradually progressing back on the long path back to the human form of life.

What about killing plants? We can understand that we should not kill animals, even for eating, since animals are souls and experience great suffering when killed. What about plants, since they are also souls?

Because they have less developed bodies, they don’t suffer as much as evolved animals and human beings, but it is also not right to kill them.

In the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, one of the factors recommended by Lord Kapila for spiritual practice is “nātihiṁsreṇa”, without excessive violence. Some violence may be necessary in the course of our ordinary duties, since a kshatriya may have to fight, a vaiśya has to kill many plants to produce food, and so on, but one should be attentive to minimize such unavoidable violence to a minimum, maintaining the general principle of non-violence. No one can live without killing, since the material world works under the principle that one living entity is the food for another. To continue living, we always have to eat someone; therefore, Kṛṣṇa recommends in the Bhagavad-gītā:

“The devotees of the Lord are released from all kinds of sins because they eat food which is offered first for sacrifice. Others, who prepare food for personal sense enjoyment, verily eat only sin.”

The principle of offering our food to Kṛṣṇa, eating only His prasāda, food offered in sacrifice, is essential. Eating anything that is not offered to Kṛṣṇa implicates us in the reactions of killing and prolongs our stay in the material world. Although much less severe than killing animals, killing vegetables is also sinful. The only solution for eating without getting involved in the reactions of such killing is eating only food offered to Kṛṣṇa.

Offering our food to Kṛṣṇa demands a whole paradigm change. Instead of just seeing things and buying, we are forced to make our eating premeditated, buying ingredients, cooking, and offering to Kṛṣṇa. It automatically teaches us to avoid restaurants and industrialized food, and so on. That’s a very important step in spiritual life. That’s the way Prabhupāda was teaching, and that’s the way it was still in practice when I joined. Later, this appears to have been somehow lost, as devotees started becoming more like ordinary vegetarians, eating anything they see.

Apart from performing one’s occupation as an offering to the Lord, temple worship is also essential. Temple worship is recommended to both the neophyte and the advanced. The main difference is not the activity, but the mentality and the quality of worship. A neophyte worships as a matter of duty or routine, and he sees the deity in the temple as a representation of the Lord. An advanced devotee, however, sees the deity as the Lord Himself, and this opens the doors to establishing a real relationship with Him on a platform of love. Again, what changes as we advance is our mentality and not so much the external activity.

It’s possible to become Kṛṣṇa-conscious in one second, but for most of us, that’s a process that takes some time. We should thus practice our devotional service with great patience. Even if we can’t obtain the desired result as fast as we would desire, and even if there are impediments that may appear insurmountable, we should continue. As Prabhupāda mentions, we should have the confidence that Kṛṣṇa will accept us because we are engaged in devotional service. As long as we continue executing devotional service according to the rules and regulations, our success is assured.

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.

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Just like the other Puranas, the Śrīmad Bhagavatam is composed of dialogues of great personalities. The original dialogue is the conversation between Sukadeva Goswami and Maharaja Pariksit, which is repeated with a few additions by Suta Goswami to the sages in Naimisharanya. This dialogue is, in turn, repeated to us by Śrila Vyasadeva, who compiled the book.

Suta Goswami starts his discourse to the sages by speaking directly, describing the different incarnations of Kṛṣṇa, the story of Vyasadeva being inspired by Narada Muni to write the Śrīmad Bhagavatam, and so on, up to the decision of Maharaja Pariksit to fast until death after being cursed by Srngi and his meeting with Sukadeva Goswami. From the start of the second canto, Suta Goswami starts repeating the conversation between Sukadeva Goswami and Maharaja Pariksit. This adds another level to the dialogue, since now we have Suta Goswami repeating verses spoken by Sukadeva Goswami to Maharaja Pariksit. In the third canto, another layer is introduced: Sukadeva Goswami starts to narrate the conversation between Vidhura and Maytreya, and therefore, we have Sukadeva Goswami repeating verses spoken by Maytreya, and Suta Goswami repeating everything to the sages in Naimisharanya. This goes on up to the end of the fourth canto. Maitreya, in his turn, also quotes from other conversations, and thus we have at some points five or six levels of dialogue one on top of the other. Keeping track of all these different dialogues can be quite a challenge.

Let’s try to better understand the different dialogues presented in the Śrīmad Bhagavatam:

Vyasadeva speaks

Although the whole Śrīmad Bhagavatam was compiled by Śrila Vyasadeva, he speaks only the book’s first five verses.

The first three verses declare the purpose and the conclusions of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, and the next two verses introduce the narration, describing the scene of the conversation between Suta Goswami and the sages in the forest of Namisharanya:

“Once, in a holy place in the forest of Naimiṣāraṇya, great sages headed by the sage Śaunaka assembled to perform a great thousand-year sacrifice for the satisfaction of the Lord and His devotees. One day, after finishing their morning duties by burning a sacrificial fire and offering a seat of esteem to Śrīla Sūta Gosvāmī, the great sages made inquiries, with great respect, about the following matters.” (SB 1.1.4-5)

After these five verses, he starts narrating the recitation of the Śrīmad Bhagavatam by Suta Goswami.

Before compiling the Śrīmad Bhagavatam, Vyasadeva had compiled all the other books that comprise the Vedas, including the four Vedas, the 18 Puranas, the Mahabharata, and so on (as described in SB 1.4.17-25). However, even after concluding such an arduous task, he was still dissatisfied.

The problem was that although these works arduously explained different philosophical truths, in none of his works did Vyasadeva directly discuss pure devotional service to Krsna. This deficiency was identified by his spiritual master, Śrila Narada Muni, who instructed him to compile the Śrīmad Bhagavatam, making clear the ultimate conclusion of the Vedas, which is pure devotional service to the Lord.

Before compiling the Śrīmad Bhagavatam, Vyasadeva had compiled two books that are related to it. The first is the original Bhagavata Purana, one of the 18 Puranas. This book was an embryonic form of the Śrīmad Bhagavatam, which was spoken to Sukadeva Goswami. This narration was expanded by the great sage, resulting in the main portion of the Śrīmad Bhagavatam, narrated to Maharaja Pariksit. The word “suka” means parrot. It’s said that when a parrot bites a ripe fruit with its beak, it becomes even sweeter. Similarly, Sukadeva Goswami made the Bhagavata Purana, originally composed by Śrila Vyasadeva, even sweeter by adding his own spiritual realization.

Suta Goswami was present in the assembly, and he later repeated the narration to the sages of Naimisharanya, including his own contributions. This second narration of the Śrīmad Bhagavatam that happened in the forest of Naimisharanya became the final version of the book, eternalized by Śrila Vyasadeva.

One could ask when exactly Vyasadeva wrote the Śrīmad Bhagavatam. Did he wait until it was narrated to the sages in Naimisharanya? Apparently not. Vyasadeva had a perfect vision of the past, present, and future. It appears that after being instructed by Śrila Narada Muni, he sat in meditation and was able to directly see these events and write the Śrīmad Bhagavatam in the same way it was later spoken by Suta Goswami.

At first, this idea may sound strange, but that’s how many other books with transcendental literature were written. Sukadeva Goswami also described events that will happen in the future in the 12th canto of Śrīmad Bhagavatam. Another example is that when Sanatana Goswami wrote the Brhad Bhagavatamrta, he was able to see in his meditation a narration that happened 4500 years before, when Maharaja Pariksit narrated the conclusions of the Śrīmad Bhagavatam to his mother, Uttara. Similarly, Śrila Bhaktivinoda Thakura wrote in his Jaiva Dharma about events that happened hundreds of years before his time.

While regular mortals can only write about things they have directly experienced or heard from others, perfect souls can speak without barriers about events that happened in the past, as well as events that will happen in the future, according to what is relevant to the audience.

Suta Goswami speaks the Śrīmad Bhagavatam to the sages in Namiśaranya

The dialogue between Suta Goswami and the sages led by Śauna Ṛṣi starts on SB 1.1.6 and goes all the way to SB 12.13.23, the last verse of Śrīmad Bhagavatam.

It is concluded with:

“I offer my humble obeisances to Śrī Śukadeva Gosvāmī, the best of mystic sages and a personal manifestation of the Absolute Truth. He saved Mahārāja Parīkṣit, who was bitten by the snake of material existence. O Lord of lords, O master, please grant us pure devotional service at Your lotus feet, life after life. I offer my respectful obeisances unto the Supreme Lord, Hari, the congregational chanting of whose holy names destroys all sinful reactions, and the offering of obeisances unto whom relieves all material suffering.” (SB 12.13.21.23)

All the other dialogues, including the conversation between Sukadeva Goswami and Maharaja Pariksit, are included in this long conversation. In different parts of the Śrīmad Bhagavatam, we have Suta Goswami speaking directly with the sages, and in others narrating different conversations that were included in the dialogue between Sukadeva Goswami and Maharaja Pariksit.

Apart from a few questions between these different conversations, the parts directly spoken by Suta Goswami and the sages include the first canto and the second half of the 12th canto, going from 12.6.8 to the end of the book.

Sukadeva Goswami speaks to Maharaja Pariksit

The main portion of the Śrīmad Bhagavatam is composed of the dialogue between Sukadeva Goswami and Maharaja Pariksit. In the first canto, Suta Goswami answers questions from the sages and narrates the different events that led to this epic discussion, including how Pariksit Maharaja was saved in the womb, how Narada Muni instructed Śrila Vyasadeva to compile the Śrīmad Bhagavatam, Vidura instructing Drtarastra, Pariksit Maharaja being cursed by Srngi, etc.

The dialogue between Sukadeva Goswami and Maharaja Pariksit starts on SB 1.19.32 with Parīkṣit starting his inquiries to Śukadeva Gosvāmī:

“The fortunate King Parīkṣit said: O brāhmaṇa, by your mercy only, you have sanctified us, making us like unto places of pilgrimage, all by your presence here as my guest. By your mercy, we, who are but unworthy royalty, become eligible to serve the devotee.”

It goes all the way to SB 12.6.7, with the self-realized Maharaja Pariksit expressing his gratitude to Sukadeva Goswami and preparing to give up his life:

“I have heard from you this Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, which is the perfect summary of all the Purāṇas and which perfectly describes the Supreme Lord, Uttamaḥśloka. My lord, I now have no fear of Takṣaka or any other living being, or even of repeated deaths, because I have absorbed myself in that purely spiritual Absolute Truth, which you have revealed and which destroys all fear. O brāhmaṇa, please give me permission to resign my speech and the functions of all my senses unto Lord Adhokṣaja. Allow me to absorb my mind, purified of lusty desires, within Him and to thus give up my life. You have revealed to me that which is most auspicious, the supreme personal feature of the Lord. I am now fixed in knowledge and self-realization, and my ignorance has been eradicated.” (SB 12.6.4-7)

During his explanations, however, Sukadeva Goswami includes other dialogues between great personalities, which add other layers to the conversation. Here is a short list of the most prominent, which may help to better understand the flow of the Śrīmad Bhagavatam:

Vidura speaks to Maitreya Muni

During most of the second canto, Sukadeva Goswami describes rather technical topics about the creation and structure of the universe. These topics are important since they help us to understand the greatness of Kṛṣṇa and see Him everywhere, including inside the material creation. The first and second cantos of Śrīmad Bhagavatam are considered to represent the lotus feet of the Lord since they give us preliminary knowledge that puts us in the right state of understanding to be able to appreciate the topics described in the later cantos.

However, this description of the universe didn’t completely satisfy the sages in Naimisharanya, who were anxious to hear about other transcendental subjects. In the last verses of the second canto, we go back to the conversation between Suta Goswami and the sages, with Saunaka Rsi inquiring about the topic of Vidura leaving home (which was already partially described in the first canto), as well as his enlightening conversation with Maitreya Muni.

Coincidentally, Pariksit Maharaja made a similar inquiry to Sukadeva Goswami, and thus Suta Goswami could just continue transmitting the narration of Sukadeva Goswami without having to move to a separate topic. In his purport to SB 3.1.3, Śrila Prabhupada mentions, “Exactly as Śaunaka Ṛṣi inquired of Sūta Gosvāmī and Sūta Gosvāmī replied, so Śrīla Śukadeva Gosvāmī replied to King Parīkṣit’s inquiries. The King was very anxious to understand the meaningful discussion that took place between the two great souls.”

Back to the conversation between Sukadeva Goswami and Maharaja Pariksit, we start the third canto with Sukadeva describing the travels of Vidura after leaving home and his meeting with Uddhava, who gives him a condensed account of the pastimes of Krsna and instructs him to inquire further from Maitreya, who is nearby.

Thus, starting from SB 3.4.2, Sukadeva Goswami narrates the great dialogue between Vidura and Maitreya Muni. This dialogue goes all the way up to the end of the 4th canto, ending on SB 4.31.29.

In this portion of Śrīmad Bhagavatam, Maitreya Muni starts by describing the process of creation (further clarifying some of the topics discussed in the 2nd canto) and soon turns to describing the pregnancy of Diti in the evening, the fight between Lord Varaha and Hiranyaksa, the marriage of Kardama Muni and the teachings of Lord Kapila, the pastime of Daksa offending Lord Shiva, the pastime of Dhruva Maharaja, the history of King Vena and the advent of Prthu Maharaja, as well as the history of King Prachinabarhi, the allegory of Puranjana, and the history of the Pracetas. Except for the killing of Hiranyaksa, these are events that happened earlier in the history of the universe, mainly during the reign of Svayambhuva Manu (the 1st Manu).

During this large portion of the Śrīmad Bhagavatam, we have 4 layers of dialogues, with Vyasadeva narrating the conversation of Suta Goswami with the sages, who narrates Sukadeva Goswami speaking to Maharaja Pariksit, who in turn narrates the conversation between Vidura and Maitreya. At some points, Maitreya quotes from other conversations, adding more layers, but these are relatively short conversations that are easy to follow if we don’t lose track of the main flow.

Narada Muni speaks to Maharaja Yudhiṣṭhira

At the end of the 4th canto, the focus of the conversation returns to Sukadeva Goswami and Pariksit Maharaja. During the 5th canto, they discuss the activities of Priyavrata and Agnidra, the teachings of Lord Rsabhadeva, the history of the three births of Bharata Maharaja, and his teachings to King Rahūgaṇa, culminating with the description of the structure of the universe.

After hearing the description of the hellish planets, Maharaja Pariksit becomes compassionate with the suffering conditioned souls and inquires about how they can be saved from such hellish torments. This leads to the description of the pastime of Ajamila at the beginning of the 6th canto. This is followed by the description of the activities of Daksa in his second birth during the reign of the 6th Manu (Cākṣuṣa), his begetting of numerous children, his cursing of Narada Muni, and so on. The remaining verses in the 6th canto are dedicated to describing the history of Indra offending his spiritual master and fighting with Vrtrasura, the history of King Citraketu, and the vow of Diti for avenging the death of her sons.

In the 7th canto, Pariksit Maharaja inquires about the apparent partiality of the Lord in siding with the demigods. This led Sukadeva Goswami to narrate another great conversation, this time between Narada Muni and Maharaja Yudhiṣṭhira. The conversation starts on SB 7.1.16 and goes up to 7.15.86, at the end of the canto.

This conversation narrates in detail the history of Hiranyakashipu, including his austerities and the blessings he gained from Lord Brahma, his persecution of Prahlada Maharaja, and the pastime of his being killed by Lord Nrshinhadeva. After the description of the pastime, Maharaja Yudhisthira inquires about the special characteristics of the Varnaśrama system, and Narada Muni gives a detailed answer, according to the knowledge he received from Lord Narayana.

Narada instructs Vasudeva

After the discussion between Narada Muni and Maharaja Yudhisthira, the focus goes back to Sukadeva Goswami, who continues to directly answer the questions of Maharaja Pariksit during the 8th, 9th, and 10th cantos. The 8th canto is centered around the pastime of the elephant Gajendra and the churning of the milk ocean by the demons and demigods, as well as a description of the Manus, the advent of Vamanadeva, and the second appearance of Matsya avatara. The 9th canto narrates many different stories, including the pastime of Ambarisha Maharaja being offended by Dhruvasa Muni, Lord Rama, Parasurama, and Yayati. The 10th canto is, of course, the culmination of the discussion, when the personal pastimes of the Lord are directly discussed.

The 11th canto explains the mystery of the disappearance of Krsna and the Yadhu dynasty. During this important canto, the focus changes again to two other great discussions narrated by Sukadeva Goswami. The first is the meeting of Vasudeva, the father of Krsna, and Narada Muni when Narada visited his home in Dwaraka. Vasudeva inquires from Narada Muni about liberation, which prompts Narada to describe to him the conversation between Maharaja Nimi and the Nine Yogendras. This is a very significant conversation that discusses the nature of devotional service. It starts on 11.2.4, after the description of the curse of the Yadhu dynasty, and goes up to 11.5.50.

Krsna instructs Uddhava and Maitreya

Most of the 11th canto is centered around the conversation between Krsna, Uddhava, and Maitreya, where He directly instructs them about devotional service. This part of the 11th canto is called the Uddhava-Gita. Just like we should study the instructions Krsna gave to Arjuna in the Bhagavad-Gita, we should also study the instructions he gave to Uddhava in the Uddhava-Gita to better understand the science of devotional service.

This discussion happened before the events of the 3rd canto. After instructing Uddhava and Maitreya, Krsna played the pastime of His disappearance. Uddhava then departed for Badrarikasrama and met Vidura on the way. After hearing from him and Maitreya, Vidura went back to the palace in Hastinapura to help his brother Dhritaraṣtra achieve liberation, which is in turn narrated in the 1st canto.

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It’s well known that the Vedas mention cases of polygamy. Many kings in ancient times are described as having hundreds of wives. Successful vaiśyas would also often have several wives, and sometimes even brāhmanas and sages would have more than one wife, like in the case of Kaśyapa Muni.

Polygamy was abandoned in most modern cultures, and in our modern context, it appears to be very outdated. It also brings to mind an image of exploitation. How then to explain that it was practiced in Vedic societies, which are supposed to have higher moral standards?

The first point is that even in Vedic culture, polygamy was not considered ideal, but it was accepted because these societies operated under different principles.

One of the main reasons is that in these cultures, many men would remain as lifelong celibates, as brahmacārīs and later sannyāsīs, and thus not enter into family life. This was exacerbated by many kṣatriyas dying in battle, often before marriage. In this way, the female population in Vedic societies would be almost always considerably greater than the male population available for marriage. Since there was no divorce in these times, the problem would be solved by allowing some men (especially rich kṣatriyas and vaiśyas) to marry more than one wife, provided they had the resources to properly maintain all of them. Kṛṣṇa showed this to the maximum extent by marrying 16,108 princesses, and not only providing each one with a great palace, servants, golden ornaments, etc., but expanding himself to be personally present with all of them. This sets the standard. A man would be allowed to marry more than one woman if he were able to provide each with a separate house and keep all of them satisfied in all respects.

Another practice that is also described, although less common, is polyandry, one woman marrying more than one husband. Two examples are Draupadī marrying the five Pandavas and Marisa (the daughter of Kandu and Pramloca), who married the ten Pracetas. In this case, the standard is that a woman should be able to treat all of her husbands equally, so there is no disagreement between them.

According to Śrīla Prabhupāda in his purport to ŚB 4.30.16, in previous ages, sometimes a woman would marry a man together with his brothers, as in the case of both Draupadī and Marisa. This practice is still practiced in villages of Tibet (usually with the purpose of avoiding dividing the land possessed by the family).

Since polygamy and polyandry are mentioned in the Vedas, should we also start practicing them? Not so fast…

Actually, both polygamy and polyandry are largely practiced in modern societies, including inside our spiritual society, in the form of divorces and remarriages, which are nothing more than forms of serial polygamy and polyandry. A man has thus several wives, and a woman several husbands, although not at the same time. This is, however, not sanctioned in the scriptures and creates many practical problems, especially connected with the education of the children.

In Vedic societies, the family nucleus would always be preserved. Even if a man had many wives, each of the families would be preserved, and the children would grow up with both mother and father. In the cases of polyandry, the husbands would be brothers and would live in the same house. The family dynamic would thus also be preserved, with each child growing under the protection of father and uncles. In the modern system, families are broken due to divorce, which is much more problematic from the perspective of the children.

Another point is that although practiced in previous ages, polyandry is forbidden in Kali-yuga. The injunction from the scriptures is kalau pañca vivarjayet: In this age, a woman is forbidden to marry her husband’s brother. Even in previous ages, cases like Draupadī and Marisa were exceptions and not the rule. Such marriages would be allowed only in special circumstances, in the case of extraordinarily qualified ladies who would be able to treat all their husbands equally.

What about polygamy? Although allowed in the scriptures, polygamy is not considered the best standard. Vedic culture values spiritual progression and detachment, and polygamy is not an efficient way to achieve either. For a man to accept more than one wife, he has to be able to acquire a lot of material facilities to provide separate houses, servants, and ornaments for each wife, as well as to provide for all of their children. Ancient kṣatriyas and successful vaiśyas could do that, but modern men would be seriously pressed to fulfill all these obligations. Nowadays, most men can’t properly maintain even one wife, let alone several of them simultaneously.

We can also see that polygamy was the source of many problems even in previous ages. The whole pastime of Dhruva Maharaja started with a king who had two wives. One wife was envious of the other and wanted to make her son the next king instead of the older son of the first wife. The king fell under the control of his second wife and thus neglected his older son, creating the whole intrigue. Another example is the story of Yayāti, who ended up being cursed when Devayāni became angry at him for becoming more attracted to Śarmiṣṭhā. People in previous ages were much more qualified and self-controlled than now. We could just imagine what kind of issues we would have if these practices were to become widespread in our current society.

Although Prabhupāda mentions the practice of polygamy in his books as a system that could be implemented in general society to prevent men from leaving their families when they desire other women, his final decision was that it should not be practiced in our spiritual society, since our purpose is to become detached from this world, and not to increase our attachment. Śrīla Prabhupāda also acknowledged the potential problems associated with it.

We can see that although polygamy is mentioned in the sastras, the highest example is given by Lord Rama, who had only one wife. Polygamy was offered as a concession for men who were too lusty, as well as a way to solve the problem of a lack of marriageable men in previous ages. Nowadays, it is rare to find men who can take proper care of even one wife, and men who can adequately maintain more than one family are practically nonexistent. Another point is that in many societies (like in China and India), the male population is now larger, which makes polygamy unnecessary.

Polygamy worked in previous ages because people were much more controlled. We, however, live in Kali-yuga, the age of quarrel. In the age we live in, it is very difficult for families to live peacefully, and multiple women sharing the same husband increases the difficulties exponentially. This is problematic, especially in the case of spiritual societies. Some Christian and Muslim communities practice polygamy, but we can observe that they are often plagued by abuse, with leading men taking advantage of their positions to accumulate more wives, and the women frequently having no choice. We can only imagine the problems we would have faced in ISKCON in the 1980s and 1990s if, on top of all the scandals and problems we faced, we had also added polygamy. I don’t think our society would have survived.

Another side, however, is that we should also avoid serial polygamy and polyandry. Nowadays, divorces have become very common, but this doesn’t make them any less serious. Stable couples and children growing up under the care of both parents are essential for the health of any civilized society. Of course, frequently we don’t have a choice. A lady whose husband left has to continue to live and provide for her children, making the best of whatever choices are available, and similarly, a man whose wife divorced him often has to make hard choices to continue supporting his children. Desperate situations demand desperate measures. It is, however, much better when these situations can be somehow avoided. Children have a need for both parents.

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The Vedic Cosmology of the 5th Canto

The first part of the Fifth Canto describes the descendants of Mahārāja Priyavrata (who ruled during the first Manvantara), including the description of the activities of Mahārāja Āgnīdhra, the pastimes of Lord Ṛṣabhadeva, the fall of King Bharata, and so on.

The second part enters into details about Vedic cosmology, including the structure of Bhū-mandala, the orbit of the sun, the heavenly and hellish planets, and so on. One could question why such a description of the universe is necessary, since the main purpose of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam is to discuss spiritual topics, but the truth is that this description is far more important than it may look at first

The view we have of the universe around us is very influential in our concept of identity. If I believe the universe is an empty wasteland governed by mechanical physical laws, where things happen by chance, I will be much more inclined to believe that there is no God, life comes from matter, and life serves no purpose apart from immediate gratification.

Kṛṣṇa describes this mentality in the Bhagavad-gītā (16.8-9):

“They say that this world is unreal, with no foundation, no God in control. They say it is produced of sex desire and has no cause other than lust. Following such conclusions, the demoniac, who are lost to themselves and who have no intelligence, engage in unbeneficial, horrible works meant to destroy the world.”

Because nowadays, atheists are in control of most of the educational system, they teach a view of the universe that fosters atheism. The Vedas, on the other hand, offer a model of the universe that nurtures our self-realization.

The main purpose of the cosmological model described in the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam is to help us see the universe and everything that exists around us as a manifestation of Kṛṣṇa’s potencies, a wonderful creation that sprouts from just a small fraction of His power. When we see the universe as Kṛṣṇa’s creation, and a place where He performs His pastimes, instead of a place for our enjoyment, we start seeing the spiritual nature behind the material illusion.

Because everything comes from Kṛṣṇa, ultimately, nothing is material. When we see everything in connection with Kṛṣṇa, and we use everything in His service, this hidden spiritual nature is manifested to our eyes.

The difficulty in the description of the universe given in the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam is that it is very hard to understand and relate to our practical reality. At first, it appears to be a primitive description of a flat earth, with surreal lands inhabited by mythic creatures. However, when it is studied in detail, it reveals a complex model that gives us a much more complete view of the universe than what is described in modern science.

Starting from the conclusion

The Vedic cosmological model of the Puranas is centered on the description of Bhū-Mandala, a gigantic series of concentric islands and oceans, organized like a lotus flower and situated close to the vertical center of the universe. The difficulty with that model is that it doesn’t reflect what we see when we look to the sky. If our planet is part of a gigantic structure composed of massive islands surrounded by oceans, why can’t we detect it? Why do all the means we have to collect information about our cosmic surroundings show only a lonely planet, surrounded by the vastness of space?

The first point to understand about the structure of Bhū-Mandala is that it is the way demigods see the universe. Different beings, with different sets of senses, see reality in different ways. The concept of reality of an ant and that of a human being are radically different. Similarly, demigods can see reality on a much higher level than we do.

A second point is that the universe described in the Vedas is multidimensional. Our perception of reality depends on our level of consciousness. Just as demigods can’t perceive great sages like the four Kumāras unless they become visible to them, we can’t perceive the demigods or their abodes unless they become visible to us. Even the asuras are normally not visible to us, since they also possess subtle bodies, similar to the demigods in nature.

Bhū-Mandala corresponds to the intermediate planetary system. Below are the subterranean realms of the asuras, and above are the abodes of the demigods, followed by the planetary systems inhabited by great sages. Somehow, the demigods see Bhū-Mandala as a continuous structure and have access to the different tracts of land that compose it, but in our gross reality, the different abodes that compose Bhū-Mandala appear as different planets, to which we don’t have access. We can’t even directly understand how these different planets appear in our gross reality, since in our age, we have access to only our own planet, which is part of the southern section of Jambūdvīpa, the central island.

In our gross reality, the universe appears to be almost empty, and everything is extremely far away. From the higher-dimensional perspective of the demigods, however, the different planets that compose the intermediate planetary system form a cosmic lotus, with the higher planetary systems orbiting around it like a giant chandelier. From the point of view of blind physical laws, it doesn’t make much sense, but from the perspective of an all-powerful God with an artistic sense, it’s perfectly plausible.

At the time Śrīla Prabhupāda was commenting on the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, the meaning of the description of Bhū-Mandala in the Fifth Canto was a mystery. Prabhupāda asked his disciples to try to locate Indian astronomers who could help him to explain and build a model of the structure for a Vedic planetarium, but none of the Vedic astrologers of the time were able to give any practical help.

Later on, Prabhupāda gave the keys for understanding the description in a letter containing his final conclusions on the structure of the Vedic Universe, and practical instructions to build a visual model of the Vedic universe for the Temple of the Vedic Planetarium in Mayapur (Svarūpa Dāmodara, April 27, 1976):

“My final decision is that the universe is just like a tree, with root upwards. Just as a tree has branches and leaves so the universe is also composed of planets which are fixed up in the tree like the leaves, flowers, fruits, etc. of the tree. The pivot is the pole star, and the whole tree is rotating on this pivot. Mount Sumeru is the center, trunk, and is like a steep hill, like the alps mountains which also have very high peaks. I have seen in Switzerland one mountain peak which was so high that is penetrated through the clouds. The tree is turning and therefore, all the branches and leaves turn with the tree. The planets have their fixed orbits, but still they are turning with the turning of the great tree. There are pathways leading from one planet to another made of gold, copper, etc., and these are like the branches. Distances are also described in the 5th Canto just how far one planet is from another.

We can see that at night, how the whole planetary system is turning around, the pole star being the pivot. Each planet has its orbit fixed but the sun is moving up and down, north and south. It is not that we shall accept the theory that the sun is fixed up and the others are all going around the sun. That is not correct. Even the 7th star is rotating once around the pole star in each 24 hours. The whole universe is just like a big tree, that is a fact. I do not think that the modern astronomers have any such idea that the whole universe is like a big tree. The planets which are full of living entities are one after another, one above the other. The relative positions of the planets is fixed up but the whole thing is turning. The sun is going north and south, it has its own orbit below the moon. So now you all Ph.D.’s must carefully study the details of the 5th Canto and make a working model of the universe. If we can explain the passing seasons, eclipses, phases of the moon, passing of day and night, etc. then it will be very powerful propaganda.”

Here, Prabhupāda gives the keys for understanding the whole cosmological model of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, finding the answers to the questions that baffled Vedic astronomers for centuries. The conclusions given by Prabhupāda in this letter can be summarized as follows:

a) The universe has the form of an inverted tree, just as Kṛṣṇa describes in the Bhagavad-gītā, with Brahmaloka situated at the root and the other planetary systems below it, forming the trunk, branches, twigs, leaves, etc. of this universal tree. This describes the basic organization of the planetary systems, forming a tree-like structure. Dhruvaloka is central in this model, serving as the central pivot.

b) This analogy of the universe as a tree, or as a chandelier, helps us to understand another important feature of the Vedic universe: the whole structure of stars, planets, and other visible objects rotates. In modern astronomy, it is believed that the entire galaxy slowly rotates around its center. In the Vedic model, however, the whole structure rotates at enormous speeds, with the entire structure rotating around the central axis of Dhruvaloka once every 24 hours. This rotation is the detail that explains the passage of days and nights in the model. This detail, indicated by Prabhupāda, is what makes the model functional.

c) In modern astronomy, it is believed that the Earth rotates around the sun because the sun is much more massive than the Earth and the other planets. In the Vedic model, however, our planet is stationary, and the sun rotates. The reason is that our planet is part of the structure of Bhū-mandala, which is much larger than the sun.

d) The rotation of the sun around Bhū-mandala corresponds to the passages of the seasons, while the daily rotation of the whole structure around Dhruvaloka explains the passage of the days and nights. Śukadeva Goswami describes this model in chapter 5.21 of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, but the explanation is very hard to follow. Maharaja Parīkṣit himself asks for clarification on SB 5.22.1.

e) Mount Sumeru, at the center of Bhū-mandala, is right at the center of the tree, aligned with the pivot of Dhruvaloka. It is surrounded by many other mountains described in chapter 5.16, as well as other structures of Bhū-mandala. Our planet is a little to the south of this structure, as part of Bhārata-varṣa.

f) Prabhupāda mentions that “The tree is turning and therefore, all the branches and leaves turn with the tree. The planets have their fixed orbits, but still they are turning with the turning of the great tree.” This is a very delicate part of the model.

In SB 5.21.8-9, Śukadeva Goswami mentions that “Although the sun moves counterclockwise, facing the constellations, with Sumeru Mountain on its left, it also moves clockwise and appears to have the mountain on its right because it is influenced by the dakṣiṇāvarta wind.”

How can the sun move in two directions at the same time, moving simultaneously clockwise and counterclockwise?

This is exactly the point that confuses Maharaja Parīkṣit and leads him to enquire on SB 5.22.1. What at first sounds absurd is precisely the passage that reveals the delicate point made by Prabhupāda: The sun moves simultaneously in two directions, creating both the transitions of day and night and the cycles of the seasons. In the annual orbit around Mount Sumeru, the sun moves counterclockwise, with Sumeru Mountain on its left. This movement is perceived on our planet as the sun moving up and down in the sky with the passage of the seasons.

In the other movement, the sun moves clockwise, together with the rest of the universal tree around Dhruvaloka, with Mount Sumeru on its right. This movement is much faster, taking just 24 hours to be completed, and is perceived on our planet as the passage of days and nights.

The same dual movement is found in the other planets. They have their independent orbits in relation to each other, but at the same time, they move all together once per day around Dhruvaloka, following the movement of the whole sky. Prabhupāda reinforces this by saying that “We can see that at night, how the whole planetary system is turning around, the pole star being the pivot. Each planet has its orbit fixed, but the sun is moving up and down, north and south.”

g) All the parts of the universe, and even Bhū-mandala itself, are composed of different planets. However, these planets are connected by interplanetary pathways that allow inhabitants who are sufficiently advanced to go from one planet to the other, giving the idea of the structure forming a continuous area as described in the Fifth Canto. Bhū-Mandala is compared to a lotus, where the different varṣas correspond to different petals of the flower. Prabhupāda concludes that these are different planets, but they are connected to each other. Other inhabitants of Bhū-mandala, as well as advanced human beings from previous ages, used to be able to move freely from one varṣa to another of Bhū-mandala, and sometimes even to other planetary systems, but because we lack the qualification and the appropriate set of senses, we can’t even perceive these other abodes. We end up thus with the impression we are alone in the universe, as believed by many, since we can’t see or contact anyone else.

h) In the Vedic model, all planets are inhabited. Even the other planets of our solar system, including the sun and the moon, are celestial abodes, inhabited by advanced civilizations. However, even if we go there, we see only rocks and dust, since we lack the qualification to see and experience their refined reality. This is the point behind the failure in the space programs of different countries in detecting life outside of our planet. They are using the wrong process, relying on sensors and machines, instead of the elevation of their consciousness. Without following the proper process, even if we somehow break free of the gravity of our planet and reach other planets and stars, we continue imprisoned in our gross reality and can’t see anything apart from dust and rocks.

A Description of Jambūdvīpa

The discussion about the structure of the universe in the Fifth Canto starts in chapter 5.16, with a description of the island of Jambūdvīpa, which forms the central, and most densely inhabited part of Bhū-mandala. Many saintly kings mentioned in the previous passages of Śrīmad Bhāgavatam ruled over these tracts of land (as well as the other parts of Bhū-mandala), and some details about the structure were already discussed, such as Priyavrata using his chariot to divide the planetary system into the seven islands and their corresponding oceans.

“King Parīkṣit said to Śukadeva Gosvāmī: O brāhmaṇa, you have already informed me that the radius of Bhū-mandala extends as far as the sun spreads its light and heat and as far as the moon and all the stars can be seen.” (SB 5.16.1)

As it will be explained in more detail in chapter 5.21, the sun has its orbit set around Mount Sumeru, and its light is spread over a great distance, covering all the seven islands, from Jambūdvīpa to Puṣkara-dvīpa.

At the end of the structure, the huge Loka-loka mountains establish the boundary between the area illuminated by the sun and the dark outskirts of Bhū-mandala, called Aloka-varsa, which is described as being completely dark and uninhabited.

Prabhupāda adds a series of important points in his purport:

“In the Gāyatrī mantra, we chant om bhūr bhuvaḥ svaḥ. The word bhūr refers to Bhū-mandala. Tat savitur vareṇyam: the sunshine spreads throughout Bhū-mandala. Therefore the sun is worshipable. The stars, which are known as nakṣatra, are not different suns, as modern astronomers suppose. From Bhagavad-gītā (10.21) we understand that the stars are similar to the moon (nakṣatrāṇām ahaṁ śaśī). Like the moon, the stars reflect the sunshine. Apart from our modern distinguished estimations of where the planetary systems are located, we can understand that the sky and its various planets were studied long, long before Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam was compiled.”

a) The model of Bhū-mandala is not just to satisfy our curiosity about our cosmic surroundings: it helps us to see the universe as a manifestation of the Lord. When we chant the Gāyatrī mantra, for example, we meditate on how the sun spread it light through the three planetary systems: bhūr (Bhū-mandala, the intermediate planetary system), bhuvaḥ (Bhuvarloka, the subtle realm that starts in the upper atmosphere), and svaḥ (Svargaloka, the celestial planetary system). The lower planetary systems inhabited by nāgas and asuras are subterranean and receive no sunlight, while the upper planetary systems of Maharloka, Janaloka, Tapoloka, and Satyaloka are too distant for the light of the sun to reach. These planetary systems, however, are self-illuminated and do not depend on it.

b) Different from what is believed in modern astronomy, there is just one sun per material universe in the Vedic model. Just as the moon, the stars shine by primarily reflecting light from the sun. In another passage (SB 5.20.13), Prabhupāda adds that they also emit some light due to the presence of a celestial type of kuśa grass that emits mild, pleasing flames. This is a point that explains some of the differences between the two models.

Because the stars emit much less light in the Vedic model, they are considered to be much closer to Earth than believed in modern cosmology. They are still extremely far from Earth, but not on the scale of millions of light-years as believed in modern calculations. The belief that all stars emit light due to nuclear fusion, like the sun, leads modern researchers to conclude that the universe is much larger.

“My dear Lord, the rolling wheels of Mahārāja Priyavrata’s chariot created seven ditches, in which the seven oceans came into existence. Because of these seven oceans, Bhū-mandala is divided into seven islands. You have given a very general description of their measurement, names and characteristics. Now I wish to know of them in detail. Kindly fulfill my desire.” (SB 5.16.2)

Previously, in the first chapter of the Fifth Canto, texts 5.1.30 to 33, preliminary details about the structure of Bhū-mandala were given:

a) In the Vedic model, our planet is part of the huge structure of Bhū-mandala and is thus fixed in place. Instead, the sun moves around the whole structure, encircling Mount Sumeru. Priyavrata became somewhat dissatisfied with this orbit and created a second sun that moved on the opposite side.

b) By driving his mystic, interplanetary chariot behind the sun, he divided the planetary system into the seven great islands and oceans. The names of the islands are Jambūdvīpa, Plakṣadvīpa, Śālmalīdvīpa, Kuśadvīpa, Krauñcadvīpa, Śākadvīpa, and Puṣkaradvīpa, and each island is twice as broad as the one preceding it. This can be understood in the sense of different types of planets, containing different types of oceans, being formed in the early universe. According to the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, Priyavrata ruled in the first Manvantara, very early in the history of our universe.

When we take into consideration Sridhara’s factor of two, the date for the beginning of the current day of Brahma, and the start of the current cycle of creation is 4.562 billion years ago. Each Manvantara lasts for 306.72 million years, which puts the beginning of the reign of Priyavrata at about 4.5 billion years ago.

In this context, it is interesting to note that in modern astrophysics, it is believed that the planets of our solar system were formed about 4.567 billion years ago, within the first 100 million years after the sun was formed, which corresponds precisely to the period of the first Manvantara, very close to the period Priyavrata reigned. Coincidence?

c) Each island is surrounded by a corresponding ocean, equal in breadth to the island it surrounds. We can observe that on our planet, the continents are surrounded by the ocean. In geology, it is believed that they were even closer in the past. Other planets spread around the universe may be similar in geography, but contain other types of oceans.

d) Priyavrata ruled the whole Bhū-mandala, giving the rule of each of the seven islands to one of his seven sons, led by Āgnīdhra. The narration of the Fifth Canto then follows the descendants of Āgnīdhra, who ruled Jambūdvīpa, the central island.

Now, Maharaja Parīkṣit wants to know more about the whole structure of Bhū-mandala, and Śukadeva Goswami will describe it on the rest of the Fifth Canto, starting with Jambūdvīpa.

Why is Vedic Cosmology important?

“When the mind is fixed upon the Supreme Personality of Godhead in His external feature made of the material modes of nature — the gross universal form — it is brought to the platform of pure goodness. In that transcendental position, one can understand the Supreme Personality of Godhead, Vāsudeva, who in His subtler form is self-effulgent and beyond the modes of nature. O my lord, please describe vividly how that form, which covers the entire universe, is perceived.” (SB 5.16.3)

As Prabhupāda explains in his purport, ultimately, nothing is material. Everything is an expansion of the energy of the Lord, and what makes us see it as material is simply the covering of Māyā, which makes us see this universe as an object of our enjoyment. When we learn the art of seeing everything as connected with Kṛṣṇa and meant to be used in His service, this bewildering covering of Māyā is removed, and we can see the spiritual reality behind it.

Still, one could argue that instead of discussing the structure of the universe, it would be better to discuss about Kṛṣṇa directly. To deflect this argument, Prabhupāda explains that Maharaja Parīkṣit had no need for geographical knowledge of the universe. Previously (in the Second Canto), Śukadeva Goswami had already described the universal form of the Lord, which frames the universe as an expansion of His energy. From that description, Maharaja Parīkṣit had already become fully Kṛṣṇa conscious. Why then was he asking for a description of the universe?

The answer is that this is not just geographical knowledge: it is spiritual and transcendental. Because Parīkṣit was so fully absorbed in Kṛṣṇa Consciousness, he could see the universe as an expansion of the energy of the Lord, and could thus see the description of the universe as fully connected with Him. If we study the description with the right attitude, we can also learn how to see it in the same light, which will help us to improve our Kṛṣṇa Consciousness. As soon as the covering of Māyā is removed, we become fully happy and free from anxiety.

The modern description of the universe is very negative for our spiritual development. It teaches us to see the universe as something inert, which in turn leads us to develop an attitude of enjoyment or even exploitation. As long as we see it in this way, it becomes very difficult to see it as connected with Kṛṣṇa. This is one of the reasons Prabhupāda insisted on the construction of the Temple of the Vedic Planetarium, a place where people could learn about the Vedic model. Prabhupāda saw it as instrumental in bringing people to Kṛṣṇa Consciousness.

As long as we maintain ourselves in a platform of Kṛṣṇa Consciousness, we can see everything as connected with Kṛṣṇa and engage everything in His service.

The inconceivable material creation

“The great ṛṣi Śukadeva Gosvāmī said: My dear King, there is no limit to the expansion of the Supreme Personality of Godhead’s material energy. This material world is a transformation of the material qualities [sattva-guṇa, rajo-guṇa and tamo-guṇa], yet no one could possibly explain it perfectly, even in a lifetime as long as that of Brahmā. No one in the material world is perfect, and an imperfect person could not describe this material universe accurately, even after continued speculation. O King, I shall nevertheless try to explain to you the principal regions, such as Bhūloka, with their names, forms, measurements and various symptoms.” (SB 5.16.4)

Prabhupāda mentions that the material world is only one-fourth of Kṛṣṇa’s creation. This comes from a passage of the Chāndogya Upaniṣad (3.12.6): “Such is His greatness, but the Lord (Puruṣa) is greater still. He is greater than everything that has been described. All material universes and all living beings are just His one foot. The other three feet form the immortal and eternal spiritual world.”

However, even though comparatively smaller and less complex, the material creation is still impossible to fully understand. Even Brahmā, who is the creator of this particular universe, can’t fully understand it, and this is just one in millions of other universes.

Modern astronomers conclude that each star is like a separate sun, and one could, based on this, conclude that each star has its own solar system, and each of these solar systems forms a separate universe, each one with its own Brahma. Prabhupāda, however, disagrees with this conclusion. All the stars and other structures we see in the sky are all part of this particular universe. Outside of it (and not observable to us), there are millions of other complete universes.

According to the description of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, the size of Bhū-mandala appears to be on the scale of our solar system (as far as the light of the sun can be seen). The size of Svargaloka appears to be on the scale of our local neighborhood of stars, up to the polestar, since it is described that Śiśumāra (the divine dolphin, based on the path of the Milky Way we see in the sky at night) goes all the way to Dhruvaloka (the Polestar).

After Dhruvaloka, in increasing distances, there are the higher planetary systems of Maharloka, Janaloka, Tapoloka, and Satyaloka, followed by the coverings of the universe, which, in this line of thought, would include everything else that is observable (distant galaxies, etc). This fits the description that we can’t see anything outside of our own universe. Inconceivable as it may seem, it appears thus that the scale increases exponentially as we move from one planetary system to the next, reaching mind-blowing proportions when we think about the seven coverings of the universe, one ten times thicker than the previous.

In any case, even if you disagree, we both have to admit that the universe is more complex than we can conceive. How could we fully understand it? We can’t even fully understand our own bodies, what to say about the complete material creation. As Prabhupāda explains, “Śrīla Śukadeva Gosvāmī admitted that to give full details of this expansive material universe would be impossible, but nevertheless he wanted to give the King as much knowledge as he had received through the paramparā system.”

As in other topics, it is not possible to fully understand the material creation; the main point in the model described in the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam is to teach us how to see it in connection with Kṛṣṇa.

Bhū-mandala as a lotus flower

“The planetary system known as Bhū-mandala resembles a lotus flower, and its seven islands resemble the whorl of that flower. The length and breadth of the island known as Jambūdvīpa, which is situated in the middle of the whorl, are one million yojanas [eight million miles]. Jambūdvīpa is round like the leaf of a lotus flower.” (SB 5.16.5)

To understand the description of Bhū-mandala given by Śukadeva Goswami, it is essential to keep in mind the image of a lotus flower. The center of the lotus flower, the pericarp, is a golden, cone-like structure that stands above the surrounding parts. Immediately outside this central pod is a dense ring of fine, filament-like elements (stamens) that appear to support it. We then have the petals, which do not form a single rim. They are disposed into multiple layers, with each layer overlapping the next.

Each of the seven islands of Bhū-mandala is divided into different varṣas, or tracts of land separated by great mountains, just as the central island of Jambūdvīpa is separated into nine varṣas. Each of these varṣas corresponds to one of the lotus petals in the analogy.

How is it possible that Bhū-mandala, a planetary system, can look like a lotus? In the Bhagavad-gītā, Kṛṣṇa compares the material world with a reflected tree on the waters of a lake. The original tree is the spiritual world, while the material creation is a reflection of it. Just as Goloka Vṛndāvana has the form of a lotus flower, Bhū-mandala, which is the central feature of the material universe, also has the form of a lotus flower, with the pericarp represented by Mount Sumeru, the gigantic golden mountain in the form of an inverted cone in the center of Jambūdvīpa. This is just another display of Kṛṣṇa’s inconceivable potencies.

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