The 28 nakṣatras

“There are many stars located 200,000 yojanas [1,600,000 miles] above the moon. By the supreme will of the Supreme Personality of Godhead, they are fixed to the wheel of time, and thus they rotate with Mount Sumeru on their right, their motion being different from that of the sun. There are twenty-eight important stars, headed by Abhijit.” (SB 5.22.11)

Further than the moon is a region with many stars. Among these stars there are 28 which are prominent (led by Abhijit), and each of these 28 stars is assigned a sector of the sky. These are the 28 nakṣatras studied in Vedic astrology.

In the vertical dimension, they are 200,000 yojanas higher than the moon. Unlike the sun and moon, these nakṣatras don’t have an independent counterclockwise movement, but they still move daily following the movement of the whole sky. The sun, moon, and other planets move against this background, and their movements are studied in Vedic astrology. Just as the sun and the moon, the nakṣatras are channels for the manifestation of the potency of the Lord, regulating karma, destiny, and other influences according to our time and place of birth.

It’s important to note that the positions of these stars don’t match anything in the modern cosmological model. According to the modern interpretation, these stars are all many light-years away. In the multidimensional model of the Bhāgavatam, however, they appear relatively close to us, lower than visible planets like Venus and Mars.

The description of the Bhāgavatam can be loosely connected with the modern cosmological model if we take Dhruvaloka as being Polaris, the many stars described in this verse as being other stars closer to us, Śiśumāra as the path of the Milky Way we see in the sky, and Svargaloka as the many stars that comprise it. Beyond it are the planetary systems of Maharloka, Janaloka, Tapoloka, and Satyaloka, as well as the rest of the structures of our galaxy, as well as the other galaxies and other cosmic structures beyond it. Even the distances can be harmonized to a certain extent if we accept the concept of yojana corresponding to the concept of distance of the inhabitants of each level, and thus the distances growing exponentially from our perspective. This can be useful to harmonize the description of the Bhāgavatam with our observable universe, and sustain the validity of the explanation, not just from a mystical standpoint, but even on the practical level. There are limits for these similarities, however, since the Bhāgavatam describes structures and levels of existence that are beyond what we can observe using our senses.

It is important, thus, to keep in mind that the Bhāgavatam describes not only our physical universe but also higher spheres of existence that match different levels of spiritual development. Our goal is not just to accumulate information and speculate about it, but to understand this map of the vertical dimension given in the scripture and see the blue hand behind it all. By understanding the different levels of the material universe, we can gradually lose interest in it, and fix our consciousness on what is beyond, back home, back to Godhead.

On this path, becoming fixed in modern cosmological models based on what our eyes can see is a trap, because it keeps us chained to the gross realm of our physical senses.

Context is also important. Śukadeva Goswami is not describing the universe in these verses as a mere intellectual exercise. He is answering the question Maharaja Parīkṣit posed on SB 5.16.3: “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.”

Kṛṣṇa pervades the entire cosmic manifestation, and this is visualized as the universal form. By fixing our mind in this description, we can be brought to the platform of pure goodness, and when this is achieved, we can finally understand the Supreme Lord in His spiritual form.

The orbits of the planets

From text 5.22.12 to 5.22.17, Śukadeva Gosvāmi completes the description of the visible planets and their influence on us. This description helps us to see the planets as not just cosmic bodies, but as mediums for the distribution of karmic results and the manifestation of the potencies of the Lord.

The orbits of Venus, Mercury, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn are described from the point of view of someone observing from earth. When we look up at night, the sky looks like a vast dome, where the stars appear fixed in position in relation to each other. In the midst of this mass of stars we have the path of the zodiac, which serves as a planetary highway for the sun, the moon, and all the planets. They all stay within it.

Different from the stars and the sun, which trace a predictable path in the sky, the planets wander around, constantly shifting their position. Sometimes they move to the east, sometimes to the west, sometimes they pause and then move in the opposite direction, and so on.

In Vedic cosmology, the planets (as well as the sun and the moon) are called grahas. The word graha comes from the root graḥ, which means to seize, grasp, hold, or influence. They are cosmic agents that influence us, acting as instruments of our karma.

In the Vedic model, the planets are situated between the stars that form the nakṣatras, but below Dhruvaloka. They are all described as celestial planets. It’s also probable that the gross planets we see in the sky may be just gross representations of these celestial bodies (just as in the case of the moon), since they are described in the Bhāgavatam as very distant from us, further away than certain stars.

In any case, no one should expect that one traveling to Mars or Venus in a space probe would find Apsarās there. Even if such a trip were to become technically possible, one would find only rocks, just as in the case of the moon.

“Some 1,600,000 miles above this group of stars is the planet Venus, which moves at almost exactly the same pace as the sun according to swift, slow and moderate movements. Sometimes Venus moves behind the sun, sometimes in front of the sun and sometimes along with it. Venus nullifies the influence of planets that are obstacles to rainfall. Consequently its presence causes rainfall, and it is therefore considered very favorable for all living beings within this universe. This has been accepted by learned scholars.

Mercury is described to be similar to Venus, in that it moves sometimes behind the sun, sometimes in front of the sun and sometimes along with it. It is 1,600,000 miles above Venus, or 7,200,000 miles above earth. Mercury, which is the son of the moon, is almost always very auspicious for the inhabitants of the universe, but when it does not move along with the sun, it forbodes cyclones, dust, irregular rainfall, and waterless clouds. In this way it creates fearful conditions due to inadequate or excessive rainfall.” (SB 5.22.12-13)

In the modern concept of the solar system, the sun is at the center, with Mercury and Venus orbiting it, followed by the earth. The Bhāgavatam, however, describes their orbits from a geocentric perspective. When we look at the sky at night, we can see the movements of Venus and Mercury exactly as described here. They never appear very far from the sun, but sometimes appear in front of it, sometimes behind, sometimes alongside it, and so on.

“Situated 1,600,000 miles above Mercury, or 8,800,000 miles above earth, is the planet Mars. If this planet does not travel in a crooked way, it crosses through each sign of the zodiac in three fortnights and in this way travels through all twelve, one after another. It almost always creates unfavorable conditions in respect to rainfall and other influences.

Situated 1,600,000 miles above Mars, or 10,400,000 miles above earth, is the planet Jupiter, which travels through one sign of the zodiac within the period of a Parivatsara. If its movement is not curved, the planet Jupiter is very favorable to the brāhmaṇas of the universe.

Situated 1,600,000 miles above Jupiter, or 12,000,000 miles above earth, is the planet Saturn, which passes through one sign of the zodiac in thirty months and covers the entire zodiac circle in thirty Anuvatsaras. This planet is always very inauspicious for the universal situation.” (SB 5.22.13-16)

All these planets influence us in different ways, and their influence can be seen as auspicious or inauspicious in different circumstances. Venus, for example, is favorable in the sense of creating the conditions for material life and sense enjoyment, while Jupiter is often feared by materialists for bringing fulfillment of our karma, but is seen as very auspicious by brāhmaṇas and transcendentalists.

After the planets, there is a very special group of stars, the Saptarṣi constellation (Ursa Major), which is the abode of the seven sages. These are sages who are perfect knowers of the Vedas and are chosen to disseminate the principles of dharma over the universe in each universal cycle. At the beginning of each manvantara, a new group of seven sages takes charge, following the change of the Manus and demigods:

“Situated 8,800,000 miles above Saturn, or 20,800,000 miles above earth, are the seven saintly sages, who are always thinking of the well-being of the inhabitants of the universe. They circumambulate the supreme abode of Lord Viṣṇu, known as Dhruvaloka, the polestar.” (SB 5.22.17)

Just as all the other stars and constellations, the Saptarṣi honor Dhruvaloka by circumambulating it daily, following the movement of the whole sky.

The Bhāgavatam thus offers a list of some of the prominent stars, but it is important to understand these are not the only ones. The path to Dhruvaloka includes millions of other stars. All these stars form the siśumāra, the divine dolphin, another divine form of the Lord visible in the material universe.

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.

You can receive new articles directly in your inbox. Subscription is free; donations are welcome.

Subscribe now

In the 6th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Kṛṣṇa mentions:

“For one who has conquered the mind, the Supersoul is already reached, for he has attained tranquillity. To such a man happiness and distress, heat and cold, honor and dishonor are all the same.” (Bg 6.7)

This may look like a mysterious verse. How is it that we reach the Supersoul just by controlling the mind? Technically speaking, in the aṣṭānga-yoga system the mind is controlled in the pratyāhāra stage, while the yogī may be able to see Paramātmā in the samādhi stage. There is a long path between the two stages, so how can Kṛṣṇa say that the Supersoul is already reached by the time one controls the mind?

The point is that being in contact with the Supersoul does not mean just seeing Him. He lives with us inside the heart and dictates from within. However, because of the agitation of the mind, we cannot hear, and thus we go astray. When the mind finally silences, the guidance of the Supersoul becomes clear, and we automatically follow it. Just as a yogī who has failed in controlling the mind may fall, a devotee who is still embarrassed by the turbulence of the mind and senses may act erratically. However, as we fix our minds, we become dovetailed with the desires of the Lord and stop acting independently. That is the stage mentioned by Kṛṣṇa. We may not see Paramātma, but He is already in reach.

At this stage, we attain tranquility and become impervious to the changing conditions of this world. We become aware of our eternal relationship with Kṛṣṇa, and the mere resemblance of this realization makes the temporary situations we face in this world, such as heat and cold, happiness and distress, look small. In fact, we gradually come to realize they are all the same, different faces of the same material manifestation.

Kṛṣṇa then explains the symptoms by which such an advanced yogī or devotee can be recognized:

“A person is said to be established in self-realization and is called a yogī [or mystic] when he is fully satisfied by virtue of acquired knowledge and realization. Such a person is situated in transcendence and is self-controlled. He sees everything – whether it be pebbles, stones or gold – as the same.
A person is considered still further advanced when he regards honest well-wishers, affectionate benefactors, the neutral, mediators, the envious, friends and enemies, the pious and the sinners all with an equal mind.” (Bg 6.8-9)

The first level is that one becomes fully satisfied because of the acquired knowledge and realization. Situated in transcendence, he is self-controlled and sees all material objects, be they pebbles, stones, or gold, as the same.

The second level is that this sameness is extended even to people with whom one relates. One starts seeing well-wishers, benefactors, neutral people, as well as the envious, friends and enemies, pious and sinners, with an equal mind.

What makes these two platforms different?

A materialistic person sees gold as more valuable than stones because gold can be converted into material possessions and power. Gold is thus an instrument to satisfy desires. A self-realized soul, however, has no material desires and thus sees no value in gold or money. For him, gold is like an ordinary stone, and money is like ordinary paper. A devotee may desire for Kṛṣṇa, of course, but in terms of his self-satisfaction, there is indifference. There are other forms of “gold” in this world, such as fame or mundane scholarship, which may look valuable for others, but are also pebbles and stones for a pure devotee.

Seeing all people as the same, however, demands even higher realization. How to react the same to both offenses and praise, honor, and dishonor? It demands not only fully controlling the mind but also becoming completely free from the false ego.

Once, great sages wanted to determine who was supreme and sent Bhṛgu Muni to test Brahmā, Śiva, and Viṣnu.

Bhṛgu went first to the assembly of Brahmā, his father. However, when he entered, he deliberately did not greet him or offer respects. Brahmā became angry, but because Bhṛgu was his son, he controlled his anger and did not punish him. Thus, Bhṛgu understood that Brahmā, although very advanced, was not completely free from the material influence.

He then went to Lord Śiva, who rose to embrace him affectionately. Bhṛgu, however, refused the embrace and seriously insulted him. Śiva became furious, but somehow controlled himself. Bhṛgu then understood that even he was not completely unaffected.

Finally, he went to Lord Viṣnu and committed the greatest offense by directly kicking Him on the chest. Lord Viṣnu, however, did not become angry. Instead, He humbly asked whether Bhṛgu’s foot had been hurt by touching His hard chest.

Lord Viṣnu is completely transcendental and thus beyond material anger. This is a platform that even great demigods cannot imitate. A pure devotee, however, rises to the same spiritual platform and becomes one with the Lord in quality, and can exhibit the same form of transcendental tolerance that is impossible even to demigods. Kṛṣṇa mentions it last, because this is the definitive proof one has reached the transcendental platform.

This also gives us a practical standard. It is easy to presume we are advanced when circumstances are favorable, when we are respected and appreciated. However, real advancement is tested when we deal with difficulties. When we are misunderstood, neglected, or even directly insulted. At these moments, we can see how much of our spiritual practice really reached the heart. If we immediately become disturbed, it means the false ego is still strong.

Conquering the mind is not just a process of suppressing thoughts. It means bringing the mind under the shelter of Kṛṣṇa so that instead of being a mere source of material agitation, it can become an instrument for our devotional service. When the mind is absorbed in hearing, chanting, remembering, and serving, the voice of the Supersoul becomes more perceptible, and we naturally become peaceful, steady, and tolerant. The equality described by Kṛṣṇa is thus not artificial indifference, but the natural vision of one who sees everything in relation to Him. Such a devotee may still act differently with different people, according to the practical circumstances, but internally he remains fixed, because his happiness no longer depends on how the world treats him.

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.

You can receive new articles directly in your inbox. Subscription is free; donations are welcome.

Subscribe now

In the material platform, we are attracted to powerful people. There are six types of opulence: wealth, power, fame, beauty, knowledge, and renunciation. We can see that all famous people have one or more of these qualities. This can be observed not only in mundane society but even in spiritual movements. The same propensity that makes people attracted to famous artists, politicians, billionaires, etc., makes them attracted to spiritual leaders who show power, fame, wealth, knowledge, beauty, or renunciation. If a spiritual leader is truly transcendental, it still works because he or she can direct this mundane attraction of followers toward Kṛṣṇa, but things can go terribly wrong if the spiritual leader himself is blinded by money and fame.

Another trap is mundane erudition. This is also a form of material asset, much like money or fame. There is something called spiritual knowledge that leads to spiritual realization, the capacity of differentiating the real from the illusory and understanding Kṛṣṇa. This transcendental knowledge is discussed in the 4th chapter of the Gītā, culminating with the formula to obtain it:

“Just try to learn the truth by approaching a spiritual master. Inquire from him submissively and render service unto him. The self-realized souls can impart knowledge unto you because they have seen the truth.” (Bg 4.34)

Real transcendental knowledge has to be obtained from a self-realized soul. Even if a devotee is afraid of committing to the vows of initiation, one still has to find some form of spiritual teacher or mentor and learn from him or her. Even if one is studying Prabhupāda’s books, one still has to learn their practical application from one of his genuine followers.

Kṛṣṇa then continues:

“Having obtained real knowledge from a self-realized soul, you will never fall again into such illusion, for by this knowledge you will see that all living beings are but part of the Supreme, or, in other words, that they are Mine.” (Bg 4.35)

This is the practical result of obtaining transcendental knowledge: we are elevated beyond the material cloud, beyond all illusion, fear, and doubt, and attain transcendental vision.

There is a great difference between seeing something and just reading a description in a book. As long as our knowledge is simply theoretical, we will never be fully sure about it, and a clever person can always make us change our minds. From the moment we see, however, our understanding becomes fixed, and no one can convince us otherwise. From the moment we factually see that trees are green, no one will be able to convince us that they are red or pink.

Mundane scholarship is also a form of material power. People admire and follow people who have knowledge. If one knows a lot and can juggle cleverly with this information, one will surely get many followers or admirers; people will stay close to him as a way to stay closer to this material power they are attracted to.

The danger is that material power is very different from spiritual realization, just as smoke is different from fire, or an ordinary stone is different from gold.

Prabhupāda reveals this point in his purport to Bg 6.8. The verse itself is:

“A person is said to be established in self-realization and is called a yogī [or mystic] when he is fully satisfied by virtue of acquired knowledge and realization. Such a person is situated in transcendence and is self-controlled. He sees everything – whether it be pebbles, stones or gold – as the same.”

The direct meaning of this verse is that a materialistic person sees gold as more valuable than stones because gold can be converted into material possessions and power. Gold is thus an instrument to satisfy desires. A self-realized soul, however, has no material desires and thus sees no value in gold or money. For him, gold is like an ordinary stone, and money is like ordinary paper. A devotee may desire for Kṛṣṇa, of course, but in terms of his self-satisfaction, there is indifference.

In his purport, however, Prabhupāda calls our attention to a higher meaning that is connected with our discussion:

“Book knowledge without realization of the Supreme Truth is useless. This is stated as follows: ataḥ śrī-kṛṣṇa-nāmādi, na bhaved grāhyam indriyaiḥ, sevonmukhe hi jihvādau, svayam eva sphuraty adaḥ

“No one can understand the transcendental nature of the name, form, quality and pastimes of Śrī Kṛṣṇa through his materially contaminated senses. Only when one becomes spiritually saturated by transcendental service to the Lord are the transcendental name, form, quality and pastimes of the Lord revealed to him.” (Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu 1.2.234)

This Bhagavad-gītā is the science of Kṛṣṇa consciousness. No one can become Kṛṣṇa conscious simply by mundane scholarship. One must be fortunate enough to associate with a person who is in pure consciousness. A Kṛṣṇa conscious person has realized knowledge, by the grace of Kṛṣṇa, because he is satisfied with pure devotional service. By realized knowledge, one becomes perfect. By transcendental knowledge one can remain steady in his convictions, but by mere academic knowledge one can be easily deluded and confused by apparent contradictions. It is the realized soul who is actually self-controlled, because he is surrendered to Kṛṣṇa. He is transcendental because he has nothing to do with mundane scholarship. For him mundane scholarship and mental speculation, which may be as good as gold to others, are of no greater value than pebbles or stones.”

Mundane scholarship may look like gold to the materialist who desires material power, but for a real transcendentalist, who can see things as they are, it is useless, just like pebbles or stones. Worse than useless, it is actually dangerous because it entangles us further in this material world. It makes us more covered by illusion and doubt, lost in many apparent contradictions between different passages and statements from the scriptures and ācāryas, incapable of finding the way out.

As explained by Kṛṣṇa Himself, the process for obtaining true transcendental knowledge is different. It is not about reading a thousand books and trying to brute force our way into transcendence by our material intellect, but by humbly accepting the conclusions of the text, as confirmed by self-realized souls. For a devotee learning from Prabhupāda’s books, this means to start by accepting as truth what he says and the conclusions he makes, and later further refining this understanding by inquiring from disciples and followers of Prabhupāda who live according to his teachings. There is always the possibility of being misguided, but if one is sincere, Kṛṣṇa can help from inside the heart.

If one is not submissive, there is no transmission of transcendental knowledge. Study in this case becomes mere material erudition. One who takes Prabhupāda as just one voice among many, as just an imperfect opinion, will later also see the guru and different spiritual teachers in the same light, and will end up depositing his faith in some impostor, remaining disconnected from the source.

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.

Characteristics of the celestial moon

“When the moon is waxing, the illuminating portions of it increase daily, thus creating day for the demigods and night for the pitās. When the moon is waning, however, it causes night for the demigods and day for the pitās. In this way the moon passes through each constellation of stars in thirty muhūrtas [an entire day]. The moon is the source of nectarean coolness that influences the growth of food grains, and therefore the moon-god is considered the life of all living entities. He is consequently called Jīva, the chief living being within the universe.

Because the moon is full of all potentialities, it represents the influence of the Supreme Personality of Godhead. The moon is the predominating deity of everyone’s mind, and therefore the moon-god is called Manomaya. He is also called Annamaya because he gives potency to all herbs and plants, and he is called Amṛtamaya because he is the source of life for all living entities. The moon pleases the demigods, pitās, human beings, animals, birds, reptiles, trees, plants and all other living entities. Everyone is satisfied by the presence of the moon. Therefore the moon is also called Sarvamaya [all-pervading].” (SB 5.22.9-10)

Although the Surya-siddhanta gives a description of the gross moon that is close to our planet, the Bhāgavatam calls our attention to the characteristics of the celestial moon, and presents it as the real object to be studied.

We can see that even in scientific circles, the interest in the moon largely waned after the Apollo program. People came to the conclusion that there is nothing very interesting there. There were a few unmanned missions to the moon, like the Indian probe, but these were more a matter of prestige, and not really in hope of finding anything new there. Similarly, when we study other parts of the cosmos using telescopes and other physical means, everything appears to be sterile and purposeless. In comparison, the multidimensional description of the Bhāgavatam is much more interesting, and useful, offering us real understanding of the universe, and helping us to find our way out of it.

The moon is very important, because it acts as a primary channel for the potency of the Lord. The moon is called Manomaya because it is the regulator of the mind. The Supreme Lord Himself presides over the mind as Aniruddha, and His influence is manifested inside the material universe through Chandra, the moon-god. Just as Indra presides over the rain, and Vāyu over the wind, Chandra acts as the presiding demigod of the mind, channeling the potency of the Supreme Lord. Sometimes, sages who desire to control the mind worship the moon, but the ones with higher insight understand that the one being worshiped is not the demigod, but the Supreme Lord as Aniruddha.

The mind also functions as a universal nourisher, nourishing the plants and vegetables with not only nutrients but also vital force that is later transferred to humans, animals, demigods, etc. The Vedic concept of anna, or food, is not just a source of gross material nutrients, but also of subtle and spiritual nourishment. All of this is governed by the moon, and thus the moon is called amṛtamaya, the source of life for all.

It’s also interesting to note that the moon performs all these functions not only for our planet, but for the whole planetary system of Bhū-mandala. Just as in the Vedic universe there is just one sun, there is just one moon. This reinforces the idea of a higher-dimensional moon that transcends the earth satellite. This is yet another mysterious characteristic of the mystic Vedic universe.

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.

You can receive new articles directly in your inbox. Subscription is free; donations are welcome.

Subscribe now

A problem that may appear in different circumstances and become a serious stumbling block for the spread of Kṛṣṇa consciousness is sects and cults. Śrila Prabhupāda uses both words on occasion in the sense of “group” or the practice of a process, but here I’m using it in the negative sense.

Real Kṛṣṇa consciousness is non-sectarian; it has to do with the original nature of the soul and his relationship with Kṛṣṇa. In the Jaiva Dharma of Śrila Bhaktivinoda Thākura, we see different examples of Vaiṣnavas from different ways of life, including even “Muslims” from the family of Chand Kazi who became pure Vaishnavas, despite externally still maintaining their Muslim dress and social connections. Although Vedic culture is considered the most favorable, Kṛṣṇa Consciousness does not depend on people changing their external dress or environment. As explained in the Bhagavad-gītā, it is more about internal transformation than external symbols. When properly understood, Kṛṣṇa consciousness can be spread unlimitedly to members of all cultures and ways of life. We can observe this is the life of Śrīla Prabhupāda, for example. He was able to present Kṛṣṇa consciousness to cardinals, businessmen, musicians, and so on, presenting it in a way that was relatable to each.

Sects, on the other hand, are based on externals. Members are supposed to follow a rigid dress code, eat certain foods, talk in a certain way, share the same opinions, and follow without questioning a certain charismatic leader. Members of sects are tightly controlled, and anyone who leaves or deviates from the group’s standards of conduct or opinions is ostracized. Sects can be based on conspiracy theories, religious ideas, fictional books, or even movies. There are many sects and cults in recorded history that did not end well, like the “Heaven’s Gate” and other examples.

One of the symptoms of real Kṛṣṇa consciousness is happiness, although a different type of happiness than the illusory happiness people search for in this material world. The happiness of Kṛṣṇa consciousness is a continuous state, while material happiness is flickering. This constant happiness that doesn’t depend on external factors is one of the symptoms of one who is getting closer to spiritual energy (Bg 18.54). We can see in paintings of the spiritual world that everyone there is happy. On the other hand, there are many depressed people in this material world. Kṛṣṇa consciousness is about spiritualized happiness, activity, and empowerment. This is what Śrila Prabhupāda describes in his books, and what we can practically observe in devotees who are maturely following his teachings.

The problem is that sometimes, because of immaturity, we may inadvertently create sects and cults based on Kṛṣṇa Consciousness, where the members are simply repressed and forced to fit into stereotypes. As in other cases, members of such sects tend to be sectarian, alienated, and aggressive against members of other groups, including devotees who don’t belong to the same group or who disagree with their philosophy. They frequently spend time gossiping and criticizing others instead of developing real Kṛṣṇa consciousness. Naturally, the result is not positive.

Sects and sectarian mentality can be a problem for those who are seriously trying to practice Kṛṣṇa consciousness and revive their relationship with Kṛṣṇa. Sects are like a material container that limits the transcendental expression of Kṛṣṇa consciousness, which is a transcendental process. Being part of a sect may work in the beginning (at least one may have the opportunity to chant Hare Kṛṣṇa), but it will always have negative repercussions that will increase as time passes. A non-sectarian approach to Kṛṣṇa consciousness is better.

Spiritual movements and organizations always have problems on different levels, because spiritual movements are based on accepting imperfect people and using their contributions. The existence of problems is thus just a proof of the imperfections of the members; it does not mean that the process does not work. At the same time, however, we should acknowledge the issues and try to solve them, and not just allow them to cover the real thing. Although it is not possible to have fire without smoke, we should not pretend that smoke is fire.

A few symptoms of an unhealthy group are excessive control of leaders over how the members dress, the way they speak, who they befriend, how they relate with relatives, and other life choices. There is a difference between guiding and showing concern and controlling or manipulating. The first is a symptom of good spiritual leadership; the second is cult behavior.

Other symptoms are an atmosphere of suspicion and vigilance, where difficult questions are discouraged, where loyalty to the group becomes more important than truth, outsiders being caricatured as fallen or dangerous, leaving being seen as a betrayal, blind faith in the words of the leader, even when they appear to contradict reason, devotees developing fear and repression over time instead of inner steadiness, and so on.

On the opposite, symptoms of healthy communities are devotees maintaining strong spiritual practice without being forced, a clear philosophical understanding combined with compassion with newcomers, respect for different services and levels of advancement, managerial functions not being automatically accepted as proof of spiritual advancement, leaders being accountable, honest questions being allowed, devotees being humble, joyful, responsible, cooperative, and compassionate with others. Another strong factor is the mentality of being strict with oneself but compassionate with others, instead of the opposite.

Not all strict groups are cults, but it is important to learn to differentiate real fire from smoke, understanding the difference between the seriousness of true spirituality, where one is serious about sādhana, study, vows, and service, and faithful to the teachings of Prabhupāda and the disciplic succession, and immature groups, where these qualities are artificially imitated.

To avoid falling into sects, it’s important to read and understand the philosophy of Kṛṣṇa Consciousness that Śrila Prabhupāda explains in his books, and to find bona fide, mature teachers who can help us to find the proper path. Nowadays, we frequently think that a spiritual guide is not really necessary and that we can figure out things by ourselves, but that’s not what the scriptures explain.

The takeaway is that Kṛṣṇa consciousness is always good, especially when properly understood and applied under the direction of some mature Vaiṣnava, but sects can be problematic. To steadily and safely advance in our spiritual practice, it’s important to learn to recognize and avoid such sects.

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.

True equality

These different roles described in the scriptures, which are emphasized by Prabhupāda in certain passages, give us general directives, but there is something else that also must be emphasized, which is our relationship with Kṛṣṇa, which includes using our natural talents in His service. This brings us to another dimension of Śrīla Prabhupāda’s teachings. Although a family works as a base from which a woman can operate, whatever talents she has, she should use in Kṛṣṇa’s service.

Once, Bhibavati Dāsi asked Śrīla Prabhupāda: “Should I live like in the Vedic times, and simply serve my husband and child?” Prabhupāda answered, “No, you have a talent as a writer, you should write articles for newspapers and propagate Kṛṣṇa consciousness.” Another time, he wrote to Jayatirtha: “It is not that women should only produce children, but they are meant for advancing in devotion.”

Śrīla Prabhupāda was quite progressive regarding the roles of his lady disciples. Not only did he allow women to live in the temples and perform all kinds of activities, including deity worship, but he also engaged qualified women in giving classes, performing kīrtanas, writing articles, painting, giving public speeches, etc.

Even more than fifty years ago, Prabhupāda was already more progressive than many of us are nowadays. In this way, he upheld the true Vedic conclusion that every person has a right to use his or her talents for Kṛṣṇa, breaking with previous traditions that were more restrictive. He was giving second initiation to women, encouraging them to write articles, lead kīrtanas (up to today, in every ISKCON temple, we hear a tape of Mother Yamunā singing every morning), worship the deities, distribute books, live in temples, and so on. This is all extensively documented.

Many of these initiatives were criticized by his Godbrothers and others, but when later on he was asked if he would do something different, he said no. If he were to start again, he would have done exactly the same. This shows how these innovative ideas were the secret to his being able to spread Kṛṣṇa consciousness, creating a dynamic movement capable of spreading through the world, and shows how the reversal of many of these initiatives in the name of “Varnāśrama” or “traditionalism” took much of this potency away.

In his purport to CC Ādi 7.31-32, Prabhupāda speaks strongly on these points, sharply rebuffing his critics. Many of these points apply exactly to challenges we also face nowadays.

“Here is an important point. Lord Caitanya Mahāprabhu wanted to invent a way to capture the Māyāvādīs and others who did not take interest in the Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement. This is the symptom of an ācārya. An ācārya who comes for the service of the Lord cannot be expected to conform to a stereotype, for he must find the ways and means by which Kṛṣṇa consciousness may be spread. Sometimes jealous persons criticize the Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement because it engages equally both boys and girls in distributing love of Godhead. Not knowing that boys and girls in countries like Europe and America mix very freely, these fools and rascals criticize the boys and girls in Kṛṣṇa consciousness for intermingling. But these rascals should consider that one cannot suddenly change a community’s social customs. However, since both the boys and the girls are being trained to become preachers, those girls are not ordinary girls but are as good as their brothers who are preaching Kṛṣṇa consciousness. Therefore, to engage both boys and girls in fully transcendental activities is a policy intended to spread the Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement. These jealous fools who criticize the intermingling of boys and girls will simply have to be satisfied with their own foolishness because they cannot think of how to spread Kṛṣṇa consciousness by adopting ways and means that are favorable for this purpose. Their stereotyped methods will never help spread Kṛṣṇa consciousness. Therefore, what we are doing is perfect by the grace of Lord Caitanya Mahāprabhu, for it is He who proposed to invent a way to capture those who strayed from Kṛṣṇa consciousness.”

From this, we can see that far from making women a subjugated class, he was eager to engage their talents in Kṛṣṇa’s service and facilitate their spiritual advancement, seeing them as souls and not as bodies.

Śrīla Prabhupāda would usually mention the point of women being less intelligent when confronted with feminism. Feminism comes from bodily identification, which in the Vedic view is a symptom of foolishness. To live in family life demands a great deal of humility. Such humility is also essential for one to be able to advance in his or her spiritual path.

The argument that women can do most things that men can do and therefore they should just be like the men is not very sound, because it disregards all psychological aspects, propensities, and differences. This idea falls into the same basic mistake as communism, trying to artificially abolish all differences and social roles, which in the end just creates havoc. Men are more fit for certain roles, and women are more fit for other roles. When both can cooperate harmoniously, both can be happy and society can flourish. When cooperation fails, problems start.

A woman who can accept a supportive role to a qualified man can fulfill her natural tendency towards family life and be happy, which in turn allows her to follow spiritual life with a peaceful mind. We can see by historical examples that even great, exalted women, like Sītā, Kuntī, Draupadī, etc., were married to even greater husbands, like Rāmacandra, Pāndu, the Pāndavas, etc., and would become even more dignified acting as dedicated wives and giving birth to exalted children. Naturally, men nowadays are not like Ramacandra or Arjuna, just like the women are not like Sita or Draupadi, but the principle remains the same: a woman selects a qualified man and takes a supportive role, working in harmony with him. Śrīla Prabhupāda gives a nice explanation about this in his purport to SB 9.10.27:

“Not only was mother Sita powerful, but any woman who follows in the footsteps of mother Sita can also become similarly powerful. There are many instances of this in the history of Vedic literature. Whenever we find a description of ideal chaste women, mother Sita is among them. Mandodari, the wife of Ravana, was also very chaste. Similarly, Draupadi was one of five exalted chaste women. As a man must follow great personalities like Brahma and Narada, a woman must follow the path of such ideal women as Sita, Mandodari and Draupadi. By staying chaste and faithful to her husband, a woman enriches herself with supernatural power.”

Feminism undermines this system. The more one is affected by the image of the independent, ruthless woman, the harder it is to revert to the mentality of a nourishing wife or mother.

Nobody is independent. Everyone is dependent on different authorities. When a child is born, the authorities are the parents, and as one grows up, other authorities are added, like the teachers and mentors, the initiating guru, the instructing gurus, and so on. Some of these are authorities on a material level and others on a spiritual level, but all of them are representatives of Kṛṣṇa, who are empowered by Him to give us direction, teaching us what is proper and improper to do, and thus advance.

To be able to advance in spiritual life (or even to advance in a material sense, becoming a civilized human being), it’s essential that one accept this principle of authority. That’s why this particular point is emphasized in the scriptures. One is allowed to not follow an authority in cases where such a person gives unbonafide instructions (like when Bali Maharaja rejected Sukracharya) or falls from the regulative principles, but the general rule is that we should respect and follow authority.

In fact, we are for so long in this material world exactly because we don’t want to accept our dependent position. We want to be separate enjoyers, masters of everything that we see. In this sense, feminism is just as bad as chauvinism, since it feeds this diseased condition of the soul, leading one to rebel against the principle of authority, which is essential for a progressive life. Real intelligence means being able to abandon our propensity to try to be the controllers in this material world and realize our original spiritual position.

This is a topic that tends to make people defensive since most women have the experience of being exploited or neglected by unqualified men; therefore, when someone speaks about dedication to a man, an image of exploitation comes to mind. That’s the other side of the question: men need to be trained to be responsible and respectful toward women, especially their wives.

As Prabhupāda emphasizes in the purport to SB 7.11.28, which we already studied, “It is not that a chaste woman should be like a slave while her husband is naradhama, the lowest of men. Although the duties of a woman are different from those of a man, a chaste woman is not meant to serve a fallen husband.”

On the one hand, the wife should be supportive and dedicated to making the marriage work, but on the other, the husband should be qualified and act properly. As Prabhupāda explains, the most sinful thing is to exploit someone who has taken shelter of us. A man who exploits a woman who gives her heart to him commits a most grievous sin and should expect a very severe reaction, be it in this life or in the next.

A woman will feel naturally inclined to follow a man who has good qualities and takes good care of the family. If the man is respectful and responsible and the lady is supportive, a very deep and peaceful relationship can be established. If the relationship is not deep, it will break easily when problems appear. As Prabhupāda writes a little later, in the same purport, “The conclusion is that a husband should be a pure Vaiṣnava and that a woman should be a chaste wife with all the symptoms described in this regard. Then both of them will be happy and make spiritual progress in Kṛṣṇa consciousness.”

As you can see, this is a complex subject that deals with a set of values that is different from what we normally find in modern society. Śrīla Prabhupāda speaks based on these principles, in line with the succession of teachers he represents. The idea of a woman acting like a woman and a man acting like a man may sound revolutionary nowadays, but ancient societies based on these values prospered for thousands of years. Considering the rate of divorce, depression, and suicide in our current societies, maybe we could consider the possibility that they understood a few things we did not.

Read the whole book:
« Śrīla Prabhupāda on Women

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 orbit of the moon

“Above the rays of the sunshine by a distance of 100,000 yojanas [800,000 miles] is the moon, which travels at a speed faster than that of the sun. In two lunar fortnights the moon travels through the equivalent of a saṁvatsara of the sun, in two and a quarter days it passes through a month of the sun, and in one day it passes through a fortnight of the sun.” (SB 5.22.8)

Previously, it was stated that the sun has its orbit in a plane 100,000 yojanas above the plane of Bhū-mandala, and now it is stated that the moon has its orbit in a plane 100,000 yojanas above the sunshine.

The direct meaning is that taking the plane of Bhū-mandala as ground zero, we have the sun 100,000 yojanas above it, and the moon 100,000 yojanas above that, or 200,000 in total. The expression arka-gabhastibhyaḥ upariṣṭāt (above the rays of sunshine) also implies that the moon is more distant than the sun, something that Prabhupāda takes as a fact. Let’s try to unpack this.

The first point is that 100,000 yojanas for the sun and 200,000 yojanas for the moon is not the total distance from our planet, but simply the vertical elevation above the plane of Bhū-mandala. Most of the distance is in the horizontal orbit of the sun, and not in the elevation. Horizontally, the sun is over 10 million yojanas from earth, with its orbit over the ocean of yogurt. In his research, Sadāpūta Prabhu came up with a figure of 93 million miles for the earth-sun distance according to the description of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam using an 8.5-mile yojana, which is close to modern estimates.

Back to the moon, the orbit on top of Bhū-mandala is not directly stated, and therefore, we can’t directly calculate the precise distance like in the case of the sun. However, the Bhāgavatam mentions that arka-gabhastibhya upariṣṭāl lakṣa-yojanata: the moon is 100,000 yojanas above the rays of the sunshine, and Śukadeva Goswami also states that it moves faster than the sun. Prabhupāda uses this as a basis to conclude that the moon is further away than the sun. Since both appear to be more or less the same size when observed from our planet, the next conclusion is that the moon is larger than the sun. This point is later directly confirmed by Śukadeva Gosvāmi on SB 5.24.2.

How is that? The point made by the Bhāgavatam is that the moon is a celestial planet, even higher than the sun in the vertical dimension. Yogis who desire to attain the moon have to first elevate themselves to the sun to be purified, and from there move upwards in the direction of the moon.

It’s interesting to note that this same Vedic conclusion appears to have been accepted by all ancient civilizations. In both India and Europe, the weekdays are named after the planets, with Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday in English; dies Solis, dies Lunae, dies Martis, dies Mercurii, dies Jovis, dies Veneris, and dies Saturni in Latin; and Ādityavāra, Somavāra, Maṅgalavāra, Budhavāra, Bṛhaspativāra, Śukravāra, and Śanivāra in India. The meaning for the three sets is exactly the same: The day of the sun, the moon, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, and Saturn. Each day is named after the planet that governs the first hour after sunrise.

Prabhupāda noted that Sunday (the day of the sun) comes before Monday (the day of the moon). He saw this as not just an accident or cultural whim, but as a reflection of the cosmic order described in the Bhāgavatam, with the sun as the primary regulator of time, and the moon as a higher, faster-moving luminary beyond it. This is an argument he insisted upon in many conversations.

In this way, from the account of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, it is clear that the moon is taken as higher than the sun, behind it in the universal order. Solar eclipses are taken as caused by Rāhu, instead of the moon coming in front of the sun. By the description, it is clear that in the higher dimensional reality of Bhū-mandala, it is so. The question is how we can relate it to our physical reality.

An interesting clue is that the Surya-siddhanta (4.1) offers a different descriptive framework. There, it is mentioned:

sārdhāni ṣaṭsahasrāṇi yojanāni vivasvataḥ
viskambho maṇḍalasyendoḥ sahasrityā catuḥśatam
sphuṭa svabhuktyā guṇitau madhyabhuktyoddhṛtau sphuṭau

“The diameter of sun’s disc (ravimandala) is 6,500 yojanas and that of moon’s disc is 480 yojanas.”

This description is similar to modern calculations, giving the idea of the moon being much smaller than the sun and closer to our planet. The Sūrya-siddhānta also gives formulas to calculate the distance. Āryabhaṭa and Bhāskarācārya came up with values very close to modern estimates by interpreting these formulas. Āryabhaṭa gave 237,540 miles, and Bhāskarācārya 238,700 miles. The modern estimate for the mean earth–moon distance is 238,855 miles. In other words, both came within a margin of less than 1% from modern estimates.

This suggests that these two accounts, of the Bhāgavatam and Surya-siddhanta, describe two different dimensional objects. The description of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam describes the higher-dimensional reality of Bhū-mandala, with the moon as a celestial planet, the abode of Soma, which is higher than the sun in the hierarchy of the planets. Yogis can reach this celestial moon for a very long life of material enjoyment after becoming purified of all sinful contamination. Rāvaṇa tried to construct a tower to reach this celestial moon, and Triśaṅku tried to reach it without relinquishing his gross body by performing a special sacrifice with the help of Viśvāmitra, but both failed. Based on these accounts, Prabhupāda insisted that modern humans would never be able to reach this celestial moon using spaceships, and all efforts in this direction would be doomed to fail.

The Surya-siddhanta, on the other hand, describes the gross moon that orbits our planet, which is some kind of physical projection of the celestial moon. When we look at the sky, the moon we see is, somehow, simultaneously both; however, when we try to reach the moon using a spacecraft, we reach this gross moon, which appears to be uninhabited.

In other words, the true moon is a celestial planet, but it is represented in our gross reality as the celestial body that is close to our planet. When we consider the multidimensional nature of the Vedic universe, this doesn’t seem too implausible, since there are many other cosmic bodies that are not visible to us, only partially visible, or that appear differently in our dimension. Bhū-mandala is not visible at all, and we can see the sun as just a globe of light, instead of a demigod seated on a cosmic chariot. Similarly, we see the moon as much closer to our planet, and its celestial opulences remain hidden to mere mortals. Vedic sages, however, understood this multidimensional nature of the moon and described both in different scriptures. The Bhāgavatam describes the higher-dimensional body, while the Surya-siddhanta describes the gross manifestation that is visible to us.

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.

You can receive new articles directly in your inbox. Subscription is free; donations are welcome.

Subscribe now

One point in our philosophy that is very difficult to understand is how the soul becomes conditioned without actually coming in contact with matter. This is one of the philosophical points behind Prabhupada’s “Back to Godhead.” Some will insist that it must be a preaching strategy because the soul cannot fall from the spiritual world, but when we go deep, we can see that the topic is more complicated than that. As Prabhupada explains, the soul never leaves the association of Kṛṣṇa, because no one falls from the spiritual world. Still, we are here. How is this possible? This is a very philosophical detail explained in the Upaniṣads, and of the philosophy of Lord Kapila.

We study that the material creation starts with the Mahat-tattva. Mahā-Viṣnu looks in the direction of the material energy, and this look impregnates her with all the jīvas who will participate in the material creation.

However, although put into the mahat-tattva, the souls don’t mix with the material elements, remaining separate, just like oil floating on top of water. In fact, even when the universe is fully manifested, the soul never mixes with the material creation, remaining always aloof. Our material experience comes just from our identification with different material bodies, just as someone looking at his phone and identifying with whatever is going on the screen.

As Prabhupāda explains (conversation, July 6, 1976, with Swarupa Damodhara):

“The living entities are always in pure goodness. This material covering is separated. The living entities can be freed from material covering at any moment. Just like water and oil, it is always separated; it does not mix. The Vedic mantra also says, asango ‘yam puruṣaḥ. Actually, it is not mixed, but it is covered. Such covering can be taken away at any moment simply by Kṛṣṇa consciousness.”

This particular point is explained by Lord Kapila in His teachings:

“The Personality of Godhead Kapila continued: When the living entity is thus unaffected by the modes of material nature, because he is unchanging and does not claim proprietorship, he remains apart from the reactions of the modes, although abiding in a material body, just as the sun remains aloof from its reflection on water.

When the soul is under the spell of material nature and false ego, identifying his body as the self, he becomes absorbed in material activities, and by the influence of false ego he thinks that he is the proprietor of everything.

The conditioned soul therefore transmigrates into different species of life, higher and lower, because of his association with the modes of material nature. Unless he is relieved of material activities, he has to accept this position because of his faulty work. (SB 3.27.1-3)

The example of the sun or the moon being reflected on water is given in many passages of the scriptures. Because the soul is of a different nature, the mixture of souls and matter is not possible. Instead, the soul remains always aloof, just as oil on water, on the sun above the reflection. However, the consciousness of the soul is reflected in matter, just like the sun or moon may be reflected in a lake or any other body of water. The reflection may thus appear to be wavering, but this doesn’t mean the sun or moon is wavering.

Sometimes this example is used to explain the difference between the Lord and the jīvas. The Lord is like the sun in the sky, completely unaffected, while the conditioned soul is compared to the reflection, being affected by the movements of the water. In this case, however, Lord Kapila is using the same example to explain the difference between a conditioned soul and a liberated soul. The conditioned soul identifies with the reflection on water and thus suffers or enjoys according to the movement of the three modes. A liberated soul, however, identifies with his real identity, transcendental to matter.

The Chāndogya Upaniṣad (6.10) mentions: “Tat tvam asi”. There, Uddālaka describes several characteristics of the Supreme Brahman to his son, Śvetaketu, and concludes each explanation with the words “tat tvam asi.”

“Tat tvam asi” indicates similarity. For example, when we say “you are like him”, pointing to another person, it doesn’t mean that literally you are him, but that although different individuals, you share similar qualities or characteristics. The soul is the same as the Lord in terms of quality but is different in terms of quantity. The soul is also a separate individual. It’s thus incorrect to interpret tat tvam asi as “you are that”. The correct translation is “You are like that”, indicating that we are like the Lord, although eternally separated as different individuals. Prabhupāda translates tat tvam asi as “you are the same spiritual identity” and as “you are as good as God.”

In this way, a liberated soul is as good as the Lord. Just as the Lord is transcendental, the liberated soul is also transcendental. The Lord remains uncontaminated with matter, and the soul is also never factually touched by matter, although, by accepting the covering of the false ego, we think that we become so.

On the other hand, when a soul comes under the strong influence of the false ego, he sees himself as the body and thinks that he is doing things and that he is the proprietor of everything. In other words, he identifies with the reflection in the water, instead of his original position in the sky. By identifying with the gross and subtle bodies in this way, he has to enjoy or suffer according to the fate of the body. One has to experience death, suffer in hell, and so on. The soul does not die or go to hell, but by identifying with this particular material identity, the soul has to go through such experiences. Ultimately, all types of material activities are bad because they reinforce this identification with the body and create results that extend our existence in this material world. Pious activities are a little better because they may, over time, bring one to the platform of goodness, but they also lead one to another material body. The only solution is to perform akarma, activities performed in devotional service that don’t produce material results.

Lord Kapila continues:

“Actually a living entity is transcendental to material existence, but because of his mentality of lording it over material nature, his material existential condition does not cease, and just as in a dream, he is affected by all sorts of disadvantages.

It is the duty of every conditioned soul to engage his polluted consciousness, which is now attached to material enjoyment, in very serious devotional service with detachment. Thus his mind and consciousness will be under full control.” (SB 3.27.4-5)

Here, Lord Kapila gives another example to illustrate the position of the soul in the material world. Our position here is similar to a dream, where we suffer and enjoy many illusory situations that have no connection with our real position.

One may dream that he is in a dark forest and feel fear, or one may even have a nightmare, dreaming he is dying, being devoured by a tiger. Both are simply due to his delirious condition. There is no possibility of one being killed by the illusory tiger he sees in a dream. The tiger inside the dream does not affect reality, and one can easily understand that as soon as he finally awakens from the dream.

In the Bhagavad-gītā, Kṛṣṇa explains that the soul is immortal and can’t be harmed by any type of weapon. This shows how all the threats we fear in this world are just like the tiger in the dream. The soul has his real existence outside of this material creation, and as soon as we wake up from it, we can clearly see that all the fear and lamentation we experienced here were nothing more than a dream.

A dream is not false; it exists on a subtle level, and we are experiencing it. The defect is that we accept the situations created in the dream as real, and thus we enjoy or suffer. A similar example is a movie. A movie is not false; it exists. The fault is when we identify with the characters in the movie and start thinking that it is real. In this case, we laugh and cry following their adventures, although in reality, it has nothing to do with our lives. In other words, both the dream and the movie are real, but they have nothing to do with our real existence. What happens inside the dream or the movie has no effect in the real world.

Similarly, this whole material creation is like the dream of Mahā-Viṣnu. He creates it as an alternate reality for the souls who want to forget their real lives and temporarily join the dreamland. Being parts and parcels of the Lord, we join Him in His dream and thus are placed in this material world. The material world is thus not false, the problem is in accepting what we experience here as reality. Kṛṣṇa consciousness means to focus on our real life of service to Kṛṣṇa, and gradually wake up from the dream.

As Prabhupada mentions, “The best service to the people in general is to awaken them to Kṛṣṇa consciousness so that they may know that the supreme enjoyer, the supreme proprietor and the supreme friend is Kṛṣṇa. Then this illusory dream of lording it over material nature will vanish.”

Living in the dream means to think of ourselves as the enjoyers, the proprietors, the objects of attention, the maintainers of others, and so on. In the spiritual world, Kṛṣṇa is the center of attention of everyone. He maintains everyone, is the friend of everyone, and is the Supreme proprietor and enjoyer. Life in this material world means trying to imitate Kṛṣṇa. When we think like this, maya covers our consciousness, and we become engaged in so many material activities, trying to enjoy this world and helping others to also enjoy. A gross materialist uses his money to enjoy his senses to the best capacity, while a pious materialist performs charity and uses his money to help others to satisfy their senses. In both cases, the object of service is the material senses. The pious materialist is considered a little better, but both are an illusion and are in practice more or less the same.

The basic principle of bhakti-yoga is to accept that Kṛṣṇa is the proprietor, Kṛṣṇa is the enjoyer, Kṛṣṇa is the maintainer, the friend, etc., and that all our actions should be performed in cooperation with His desire. Being Kṛṣṇa Conscious means accepting these principles and then trying to broadcast them and present this knowledge to others. The sound of the holy names and descriptions of Kṛṣṇa’s form, qualities, pastimes, etc., is non-different from Kṛṣṇa, and they can thus elevate our consciousness, connecting us with Him.

This point about the soul not being factually touched by matter is one of the delicate points behind Śrīla Prabhupāda's explanations of the soul as an eternal servant of Kṛṣṇa, eternally connected to Him in a bond of love, even though we are currently in conditioned life. While some Vaiṣnavas prefer to adopt the crude and contradictory interpretation of the jīva never existing outside of the material world, Prabhupāda offers a much deeper explanation that goes deep into the meaning of these and other delicate passages of the scriptures. This also puts us in the correct mindset, of understanding our life in the material world as a temporary phenomenon, and the role of our free will and illusion in our material conditioning, and not as some capricious decision by Kṛṣṇa.

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 purpose of the movements of the luminaries

The example of the potter’s wheel helps us to understand the relative motions of the sun, planets, and stars over the surface of our planet, and of Bhū-mandala in general. Understanding the model is, however, only part of it. The main question is to understand the purpose of it. Understanding how a car moves is not as useful as the practical knowledge of how to drive and use a car in our daily lives. This practical knowledge of the purpose of the system is given in the next two verses:

“The original cause of the cosmic manifestation is the Supreme Personality of Godhead, Nārāyaṇa. When great saintly persons, fully aware of the Vedic knowledge, offered prayers to the Supreme Person, He descended to this material world in the form of the sun to benefit all the planets and purify fruitive activities. He divided Himself into twelve parts and created seasonal forms, beginning with spring. In this way He created the seasonal qualities, such as heat, cold and so on.

According to the system of four varṇas and four āśramas, people generally worship the Supreme Personality of Godhead, Nārāyaṇa, who is situated as the sun-god. With great faith they worship the Supreme Personality as the Supersoul according to ritualistic ceremonies handed down in the three Vedas, such as agnihotra and similar higher and lower fruitive acts, and according to the process of mystic yoga. In this way they very easily attain the ultimate goal of life.” (SB 5.22.3-4)

One mistake we commonly make when studying Vedic cosmology is to see this study as a mere tool to understand the universe in which we live. That’s the same mistake modern researchers make when studying the cosmos. In text three, Śukadeva Goswami puts us back into the correct framework, stating that, like all other luminaries, the sun is not an autonomous astronomical body. The all-important sun is a manifestation of Nārāyaṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead.

The sun performs several essential functions, such as sustaining life, serving as a purificatory agent, regulating the performance of activities, and so on.

The words dvādaśadhā vibhajya ṣaṭsu vasantādiṣv ṛtuṣu (He divided Himself into twelve parts and created seasonal forms, beginning with spring) indicate that not only the sun, but also the twelve months and the six Vedic seasons are also direct manifestations of the Lord. All these arrangements are intentional, created to facilitate people’s lives in this world and to help them to gradually find their way back home, back to Godhead.

When we just study the structure of the universe and orbits of the planets without this context, it appears that the arrangement is accidental, which leads us in the opposite direction, failing to see the purpose of everything. We can see that this is precisely the mistake in modern science. Although they more or less understand the phenomenal manifestation, they conclude that the arrangement is accidental, which leads to atheism.

Other scriptures, such as the Bible and Quran, in turn, fail to offer a consistent theistic explanation. This is offered only in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam.

Three different calendars

“The sun-god, who is Nārāyaṇa, or Viṣṇu, the soul of all the worlds, is situated in outer space between the upper and lower portions of the universe. Passing through twelve months on the wheel of time, the sun comes in touch with twelve different signs of the zodiac and assumes twelve different names according to those signs. The aggregate of those twelve months is called a saṁvatsara, or an entire year. According to lunar calculations, two fortnights — one of the waxing moon and the other of the waning — form one month. That same period is one day and night for the planet Pitṛloka. According to stellar calculations, a month equals two and one quarter constellations. When the sun travels for two months, a season passes, and therefore the seasonal changes are considered parts of the body of the year.

Thus the time the sun takes to rotate through half of outer space is called an ayana, or its period of movement [in the north or in the south].

The sun-god has three speeds — slow, fast and moderate. The time he takes to travel entirely around the spheres of heaven, earth and space at these three speeds is referred to, by learned scholars, by the five names Saṁvatsara, Parivatsara, Iḍāvatsara, Anuvatsara and Vatsara.” (SB 5.22.5-7)

After explaining the orbit of the sun and establishing that the sun is a manifestation of the Lord, Śukadeva Goswami explains how the movements of the sun influence the passage of time, and the difference between the Vedic calendar, the solar calendar, and the lunar calendar.

The solar year is called saṁvatsara, the time that it takes to go through the twelve rāśis (signs). The solar year is divided into 12 months, but the solar month differs from the lunar month, which is the full cycle of waxing and waning of the moon. This lunar month equals the duration of a day and night in Pitṛloka. This shows how the passage of time is relative. What is a day and night in different regions of the cosmos can be a month, a year, or a thousand ages for us.

In his purport to text seven, Prabhupāda states, “According to solar astronomical calculations, each year extends six days beyond the calendar year, and according to lunar calculations, each year is six days shorter. Therefore, because of the movements of the sun and moon, there is a difference of twelve days between the solar and lunar years. As the Saṁvatsara, Parivatsara, Iḍāvatsara, Anuvatsara and Vatsara pass by, two extra months are added within each five years. This makes a sixth saṁvatsara, but because that saṁvatsara is extra, the solar system is calculated according to the above five names.”

What exactly does it mean?

In Vedic culture, people follow three different calendars:

a) The Vedic cosmological calendar, which is divided into 12 months of 30 days each. This is the normative calendar for cosmic cycles. Kali-yuga is composed of 432,000 of these years of 360 days, for example. This Vedic calendar is anchored on the rotation of the kāla-cakra and is thus the same all over the cosmos. The length of the day varies from one planetary system to the other (one day for the demigods is one year for us, one day for Brahmā is 8.64 billion years for us, etc.), but everywhere people use calendars of 12 months of 30 days, according to the length of their days.

The difficulty with this 360 day calendar in our case is that it does not precisely reflect the movements of the sun and the moon. As described, the astronomical bodies have their own independent counterclockwise movements, and thus their own, natural cycles. This leads to the other two calendars:

b) The solar year corresponds to the orbit of the sun. It has approximately 365 1⁄4 days. The solar year is important, because it governs the seasons, climatic cycles, and so on. It is thus essential in agriculture, since the right time to plant and harvest is determined by the seasons, and not by a normative calendar.

c) The lunar year has about 354 days. It is important because it governs religious dates, such as festivals, vratas (such as ekādaśī), the calculations of auspicious and inauspicious dates, and so on. The Vaiṣnava calendar we follow is an example of application of the lunar calendar.

Each lunar month is divided into two halves, with a total of 30 tithis. The Kṛṣṇa-pakṣa (the waning phase of the moon) starts after Pūrṇimā and ends at Amāvāsyā, while the Śukla-pakṣa (the waxing phase) begins after Amāvāsyā and ends at the next Pūrṇimā (you can see that these two are usually mentioned in the Vaiṣnava calendar). There are two ekādaśīs in a lunar month, at the 11th tithi of each phase.

The difficulty is that the tithis don’t match the solar days. They are calculated based on the angular separation of the sun and moon, and range from 19 to 26 hours. A tithi can thus start at any time of the day and night. That’s why sometimes ekādaśīs and other dates often fall on different days in different parts of the world, due to the difference in the time of the local sunrise. This is the discrepancy Prabhupāda mentions in his purport. The lunar calendar has 6 days less than the Vedic normative calendar, and the solar calendar has about 6 days more. In this way, there is a difference of 12 days between the lunar and solar calendars.

In Vedic societies, people would usually follow the lunar calendar. To keep it in synchrony with the solar calendar, they would use the five-year saṁvatsara system, in which two extra months were added to the lunar calendar every five years, creating a functional sixth year to correct the accumulated lunar–solar discrepancy. Nowadays, it is more common to add an extra month every two or three years (the Pūruṣottama Māsa), but in any case, the underlying principle is the same.

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.

Chapter 6: The orbits of the planets and stars

There are millions of stars and planets all over the universe, composing the different planetary systems, but they don’t exert much of an influence over us. Planets such as Mars and Jupiter, however, are the direct instruments of the fulfillment of karma, acting within the frameworks defined by the rāśis and nakṣatras. Their influence over us can be calculated and understood through the study of our birth chart. Vedic astrology is based on the study of the movement of the planets against the background of the nakṣatras and rāśis, as objects of fulfillment of our karma.

The planets, in turn, are ruled by different demigods who oversee our actions. The positions of the planets in our birth chart are not the direct cause of what happens to us, but they are an indication, a visible sign of how karma is affecting our lives. In other words, the planets are the thermometer, not the fever.

From this study, one can understand, for example, that he or she is suffering from a certain condition as the result of actions performed in a previous life, and learn that this can be mitigated by performing certain austerities or worship connected with the Lord. Nowadays, Vedic astrology is frequently misused, and so-called astrologers use it as a means to earn money by selling all kinds of paraphernalia, such as stones and rudrākṣas, as remedies to correct different undesirable influences, but the original process was to bring one to the worship of the Lord as a means to gradually become free from karma.

Why does such a system exist? The point is that life in this material world is not possible without forgetfulness of not only our previous lives but of our eternal relationship with Kṛṣṇa. As long as one remembers he is a pure soul, full of bliss and knowledge, it is not possible to enjoy this material world. Similarly, if we vividly remembered our previous lives, it would be impossible for us to properly connect with our current reality, not to mention that it would be very painful. Imagine remembering sons, daughters, wives, and husbands from many previous lives, people who we loved but will never be able to see again. It would not be possible to live.

Therefore, to make material life possible, and to give effective free will to the souls for performing material actions according to their desire, Kṛṣṇa has to create a system of forgetfulness, in which we don’t remember anything apart from our current lives. At the same time, however, He gives us a system through which we can understand our karma and past actions by studying the positions of the planets in our birth chart, and thus find our way back to Him. Thus, just like everything else in the Vedas, Vedic astrology has the goal of putting one in contact with brāhmaṇas and being gradually guided by them back home, back to Godhead. It is just that it has been misused and abused by unqualified people in modern times.

The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam does not go into details on the interpretation of astrological charts, but it gives an introduction to the topic, explaining the orbits of the planets and the general influences they exert over us in chapter 5.22. It starts with the iconic question of Maharaja Parīkṣit about the previous explanation of the orbit of the sun and the answer of Śukadeva Goswami:

“King Parīkṣit inquired from Śukadeva Gosvāmī: My dear lord, you have already affirmed the truth that the supremely powerful sun-god travels around Dhruvaloka with both Dhruvaloka and Mount Sumeru on his right. Yet at the same time the sun-god faces the signs of the zodiac and keeps Sumeru and Dhruvaloka on his left. How can we reasonably accept that the sun-god proceeds with Sumeru and Dhruvaloka on both his left and right simultaneously?

Śrī Śukadeva Gosvāmī clearly answered: When a potter’s wheel is moving and small ants located on that big wheel are moving with it, one can see that their motion is different from that of the wheel because they appear sometimes on one part of the wheel and sometimes on another. Similarly, the signs and constellations, with Sumeru and Dhruvaloka on their right, move with the wheel of time, and the antlike sun and other planets move with them. The sun and planets, however, are seen in different signs and constellations at different times. This indicates that their motion is different from that of the zodiac and the wheel of time itself.” (SB 5.22.1-2)

The dual movement of the sun we just studied is not easy to understand. It’s easy for us to understand a single circular or elliptical movement, but it is harder to imagine two independent movements happening simultaneously, like in the case of the sun in the Vedic model.

Recapping:

a) The sun moves clockwise, with Sumeru and Dhruvaloka on its right. This is the daily motion produced by the kāla-cakra through the dakṣiṇāvarta wind. On our planet, this movement is perceived as the sun rising in the east and its setting in the west daily, producing day and night. This movement of the kāla-cakra makes not only the sun, but the whole sky rotate daily, including all the stars and constellations, as well as the other planets.

b) Simultaneously, the sun also moves counterclockwise facing the zodiac, with Sumeru on its left. This is the independent annual course of the chariot of the sun. Different from the daily movement, however, this is not a purely horizontal motion. As explained, this movement causes the sun to move to the north and south of the equator of Bhū-mandala, following the path of the ecliptic. The practical result of this motion is that it makes the days become longer or shorter as we go through the seasons.

The idea of a clockwise and a counterclockwise movement going on simultaneously may appear contradictory at first, but only until we realize the independent nature of these movements. The daily movement is along a fixed circular plane, while the annual movement has a vertical dimension to it. When the two are combined, the practical result is that the sun continuously circles Bhū-mandala, but goes gradually north and south of the equator, in something that resembles a spiral movement. This perfectly describes what we see when we look at the sky.

The example of the potter’s wheel

To make it clear, Śukadeva Goswami gives a practical example. Imagine a potter’s wheel (the rotating platform used to make ceramics). Now imagine a few ants moving on top of it as the wheel turns. In this situation, we have the wheel moving at great speed, and the ants on top of it moving together with it. At the same time, however, each ant has its independent movement. There is thus the movement of the ants relative to each other, and the rotation of the wheel, which is visible to an external observer, and both go on simultaneously. From the perspective of an observer, the ants are all moving in circles, but sometimes an ant appears closer to the border of the wheel, sometimes closer to the center, sometimes an ant is closer to another, sometimes distant, and so on.

In the analogy, the rotation of the potter’s wheel equals the movement of the whole sky caused by the kāla-cakra, to which all luminaries, including all the stars, constellations, the sun, other planets, etc., are subjected. The sun is like an ant on top of this wheel, moving very fast together with the wheel (the daily movement), and at the same time having its own, independent annual movement north and south of the equator. Just as the sun, the other planets, like Mercury, Venus, Mars, etc., all rotate with this cosmic wheel, while simultaneously performing their own independent movements around the sky over the background of the stars and constellations.

The study of the movements of the sun, moon, and planets on the background of the stars is important in Vedic culture, because it is used to make the astrological calculations that help us to understand our position on the wheel of saṁsāra and find our way out.

In modern cosmology, it is accepted that the stars also have their independent movement, but it is very slow compared to the movements of the sun and planets, becoming noticeable only over thousands of years. Vedic cosmology (Sūrya-siddhānta, Āryabhaṭa, etc.) also studies these movements, but they are not mentioned in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, which focuses on describing the motion of the planets. To make it simple, the text takes the background of stars and constellations as fixed, subjected only to the movement of the whole sky, and focuses on describing the movements of the planets on this background.

On the analogy of the potter’s wheel, we can treat the stars and constellations as dots and other marks on the wheel that serve as points of reference for the movement of the ants.

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.

The social implications of life in the material world

Although the spiritual aspect of equality is higher, the point of social roles is behind a number of Prabhupāda’s statements concerning women. Everyone is equal on the spiritual platform, but we need purification to get there. Meanwhile, we have to learn to engage our material tendencies positively to advance in the spiritual process.

The Vedas emphasize the idea of families as the fabric of a progressive society, as we can observe in Arjuna’s concern in the first chapter of the Gītā. Families are the place where morals, values, and culture are transmitted to the next generation. Family, as an institution, however, demands cooperation. Prabhupāda adds to this principle by denouncing sexual liberation and women’s liberation as the wrong solutions for the exploitation of women.

The Vedic idea is that the more emotional nature of a woman can be better engaged when she has the opportunity of being cared for. A good father gives her emotional stability and self-confidence, a qualified husband gives her a family, and later the children give her care at the last stages of her life. Being secure in all these stages, a woman can spiritualize her emotions, going from lust, anger, and hankering, to love, care, and compassion. Men also have to go through a similar process, learning to serve and protect instead of exploit, and families play an essential role in both cases.

Modern societies often artificially try to eliminate the differences between men and women, but the Vedas acknowledge that there are intrinsic differences in terms of body and mind, beginning from the fact that women can give birth to children and men cannot. This leads to many psychological differences since a female body is biologically structured to conceive and nourish a child. While the soul is the same, the machine is different; therefore, the type of activities and roles should also be distinct if we want to have functional relationships and a workable society. When Prabhupāda speaks about differences between men and women, he is not speaking about the soul, but he is acknowledging such differences in the body and in the proper roles according to the vehicle one is driving.

There are certain social principles that are eternal, created by Kṛṣṇa Himself, and applicable to all kinds of societies, and it is not possible to create a peaceful society without taking them into account. Contemporary societies can be defined with many adjectives, but “peaceful” is certainly not one of them. In the Gītā, Kṛṣṇa defines peace as a prerequisite for happiness. If we want to achieve happiness, not only in this world, but also afterward, we should take this into account.

Relationships are a central part of the life of a woman; therefore, when the conditions are favorable, to build a family is a natural path. We can see in practice that many successful women voluntarily abandon their careers in their late thirties or early forties to get married and dedicate themselves to raising their children. Without this experience of a loving relationship with a husband and children, a woman will feel incomplete in later life.

Even when we consider women who are transcendentalists, seriously following a spiritual path, the need for relationships is usually still present. Therefore, even for them, it’s usually more natural to follow the spiritual path in family life, which is the general recommendation from the scriptures. We can observe this practically in our movement: even after chanting for many years, most ladies do not lose interest in marriage. They may suppress it, but as soon as there is an opportunity, it comes back. This is not necessarily a bad thing. If the husband is competent to give emotional support and basic material facilities, and is wise and exemplary in spiritual practice, his company can be greatly beneficial. The main question is the quality of the choice.

Modern society tries to impose on us the image of the successful solitary woman, but this is often not a good path in terms of well-being and personal satisfaction. Happiness is not in money and social status but in relationships.

In the Vedas, men are often recommended to follow the path of celibacy, which, if properly followed, can bring important spiritual benefits. In fact, as a higher spiritual principle, everyone should be attracted only to Kṛṣṇa, for that is the eternal position of the soul. Marriage is just a temporary arrangement to help to elevate us to that platform. There are also passages in the scriptures that recommend women to be celibate, like the prayers of Lakṣmī-devī in the 5th canto of Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, and Prabhupāda also recommended women to be celibate in a few passages, like on the room conversation from July 7, 1976, Baltimore:

“Prabhupāda: If one can remain without marriage, that is first-class.

Rūpānuga: Women also?

Prabhupāda: Women also. What is the use of this material husband? Make Kṛṣṇa husband. Kṛṣṇa’s prepared to become everything—love Him as husband, love Him as son, love Him, friend. Kṛṣṇa is prepared.”

In this way, we can see that, as a philosophical principle, celibacy is recommended for everyone. The problem is just that it is rare for people to come to a platform of genuine detachment, and celibacy based on artificial repression or fear can be dangerous, as experienced in many stages of our movement.

Not many men can successfully follow it, and for women, it is considered even more difficult, for it is rare for a woman to become genuinely renounced. There are cases of ascetic women in our line, like Kṛṣṇapriyā and Viṣṇupriyā, the daughters of Ganga Narayana Chakravarti, as well as Gaṅgāmātā Gosvāminī, who was a lifelong celibate, but they are rare. Most ladies would not be attracted to the idea of living the way they were living.

Another point is that our spiritual process is based on active service. As explained by Kṛṣṇa in the Gītā (6.3), one who is on an advanced platform, may stop external action and focus on internal meditation, but until we reach a stage of full sense control, the path of advancement for us is active service. Artificial renunciation can curb this attitude of service, forcing us to spend our energy in repressing the senses instead of effectively using them in the service of Kṛṣṇa.

One who is close to the transcendental platform can work tirelessly for others without personal considerations, but for most of us this is very difficult. Unless we can find a situation where we are nourished, we tend to just get absorbed in immediate distractions and selfish goals. Sometimes we can find this nourishment in spiritual life, by finding a group of like-minded devotees, but in most cases we find it in family life. That usually becomes the place from which we can ground ourselves and work for a higher goal.

The difficulty is that peaceful family life demands a certain mindset that is incompatible with many values common in Western culture, starting with the image of the strong, independent woman. There is a reason for that.

No woman will intentionally want to be married to a weak and helpless man who will act more like a child than as a husband. Deep inside, every woman wants to get married to a strong and qualified man. The difficulty is that not many men will have these qualities from the start. What they will have is potential, that can blossom if properly nourished.

The way to cultivate such qualities in the husband is to take a supportive position so he can be encouraged to fulfill his role and act like a man, taking responsibility for the family’s maintenance and giving physical and emotional protection, thus allowing the woman to fulfill her natural role as a wife and mother. When the wife plays her proper role, she empowers the husband to also play his proper role, and thus both are benefited. The choice of the husband is still essential, but by understanding this art, a woman can get the best from the man she chose.

A woman may argue that it is not her responsibility to nourish her husband into a proper man, that he is supposed to have learned that from his parents, teachers, guru, and so on. This may be true, but the fact is that she is the one who will live with this man. As already discussed, a wife is not obliged to tolerate abuse or gross sinful behavior. Still, in an ordinary marriage, where the husband is generally sincere but imperfect, her attitude can either help him rise or make his weakness worse. If she constantly scolds him, corrects him, or assumes a superior position, the relationship can easily turn into a mother-child dynamic, which will further weaken his sense of responsibility. On the other hand, if she supports his good sides, tolerates his imperfections, respects his efforts, and encourages him to take responsibility, she can help him become steadier in his role as husband, protector, and devotee.

Most men have the need for a woman who provides them inspiration so they can work with determination and be able to achieve their potential, both in material and in spiritual affairs. As the saying goes, “Behind every great man there’s a great woman.” Men are strengthened by the affection, steadiness, and inspiration of a good wife.

By playing this supportive role, a woman provides this needed inspiration to the husband, so he can fulfill his potential. This creates a dynamic in which both are benefited. The wife is benefited by stability, protection, a good spiritual example, and so on, and the husband and children are benefited by the love and care offered by her. This is, by the way, one of the things women do much better than men: when their natural propensity is properly engaged, they are invaluable as caregivers. Without dedicated wives and mothers, there are no families, and without families, there is no civilized society. From this, we can understand the crucial role of women in any progressive society.

We can see that there are two sides to the question. The man is supposed to have certain qualifications, being kind, wise, responsible, self-controlled, etc., but the woman also has a role to play. It’s just like the difference between a house and a home. A house is supposed to provide certain facilities, but it’s the attitude of the people living there that makes it a home. Similarly, to get a husband or wife is only half of the work; we still have to do our part to make him or her a good husband or wife. Building a successful family demands a lot of effort; it does not come automatically after marriage.

Even a number of secular ladies end up coming to these conclusions, usually after one or more failed marriages. One example is Kathy Murray, a woman from the United States who gave a famous interview to the BBC, describing how she learned to be, in her words, “a surrendered wife.” These are a few excerpts from her interview, where we can see how a lady who defines herself as a feminist came, after much struggle, to many of the same conclusions:

“The first time I married I was divorced by 26. I married for the second time at 32 but soon found myself sleeping in the guest room. My husband and I fought all the time”[...] “I didn’t tell anyone I was in constant conflict with my husband. I was embarrassed, angry and resentful.”[...] “My husband often resorted to watching TV and snuggling with our pets as I’d rage at him over ignoring my needs.”[...] “I was about to end my marriage when I picked up a book called The Surrendered Wife by Laura Doyle. I mean, they don’t teach us how to be successful in marriage in school and the women in my life didn’t share the secrets either.”

“It was incredibly humbling to recognize that I had something to do with why my marriage was failing and perhaps even why my first marriage failed. But it was also empowering. I didn’t know I’d been disrespectful to my husband or even that I’d been controlling and critical.”[...] “I’ll never forget the day I first apologized to my husband for being rude for correcting him in front of the children, or the day I said “Whatever you think” when I’d previously been extremely opinionated about what he should do.”

“I had trained my husband to ask my permission for everything. And then complained about it for a year in counseling that he couldn’t make simple decisions! I relinquished control of my husband’s life, choices, and decisions and instead, I focused on my own happiness. I was no longer acting like his mother.”[...] “My kids began to notice the change in our relationship too, and as a result, their behavior improved and our home became peaceful and fun again.” (BBC, 100 Women 2016: I am a ‘surrendered wife’)

In this context, it is easy to understand statements from Śrīla Prabhupāda like this one:

“Woman Reporter: But you say women are subordinate to men.

Prabhupāda: Yes, that is also natural. Because when the husband and wife are there or the father and daughter is there, the daughter is subordinate to the father and the wife is subordinate to the husband.

Woman Reporter: What happens when women are not subordinate to men?

Prabhupāda: Then there is disruption. There is disruption, social disruption. If the woman does not become subordinate to man, then there is social disruption. Therefore, in the western countries there are so many divorce cases because the woman does not agree to become subordinate to man. That is the cause.

Woman Reporter: What advice do you have to women who do not want to be subordinate to men?

Prabhupāda: It is not my advice, but it is the advice of the Vedic knowledge that woman should be chaste and faithful to man.” (Television Interview, July 9, 1975)

Read the whole book:
« Śrīla Prabhupāda on Women

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 chariot of the sun

The remaining verses of the 21st chapter describe the cosmic chariot of the sun and its retinue.

According to the numbers given, the cosmic chariot of the sun is much larger than the globe we see in the sky. This matches other parts of the description of only parts of Bhū-mandala and the universe itself being visible to us. The cosmic chariot described is visible in the higher dimensional level of the demigods. The sun globe we see in the sky is a gross section, or gross representation, the way it appears in this higher-dimensional reality. This may not appear very believable at first, but in the context of a multidimensional universe, it makes perfect sense. Another similar example is the moon, which is described as being larger than the sun, and being situated further away from our planet. This celestial moon, which is so great and is the abode of Soma, appears in our dimension in a reduced, gross form, as a small rocky sphere that orbits our planet.

As the sun-god moves around the sky, he is saluted and glorified by great sages, as well as demigods, Gandharvas, Apasaras, etc., who organize in different groups and take turns in his glorification, maintaining a process of continuous worship. The chariot is driven by Aruṇadeva, the brother of Garuḍa, who somehow drives the chariot on his back, keeping his front turned towards the sun-god. He is glorified by a retinue of sixty thousand great sages called Vālikhilyas, who appear to be the size of a thumb from his perspective. Accompanying them, there are seven pairs of Ṛṣis, Gandharvas, Apsarās, Nāgas, Yakṣas, Rākṣasas, and demigods who continuously perform different types of worship.

Life on top of Mount Sumeru

“The living entities residing on Sumeru Mountain are always very warm, as at midday, because for them the sun is always overhead. 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.” (SB 5.21.8)

The top of Sumeru Mountain is a celestial region, where Brahmā has his administrative city, from which he can oversee the management of Bhū-mandala performed by the Manus. Around this central city, there are many smaller cities that serve as administrative seats for the main demigods.

Different from other areas of Bhū-mandala, where days and nights are observed every 24 hours, the inhabitants of the top of Mount Sumeru see the sun circling overhead, similar to what can be observed on our planet in the region of the north pole during summer.

This verse also corroborates the whole explanation of the sun having two simultaneous movements. As the verse states, “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.”

The counterclockwise movement of the sun facing the constellations and with Sumeru on its left is made by the forward movement of the chariot of the sun. This is the annual movement through the zodiac that results in the seasons. At the same time, however, the sun is forced to move backwards in a circular motion at great speeds, a clockwise motion imposed by the dakṣiṇāvarta wind. In this movement, the sun travels with Sumeru on its right.

Because the backward movement is much faster, it appears that the sun is moving backward, even though it is constantly traveling forward. To understand that, we can imagine the situation of a person walking through the aisle of a plane, front to back. In this case, the person is walking forward at a speed of maybe 5 km/h, while the plane is moving in the opposite direction at 900 km/h. For another person inside the plane, the person moves forward, but from the perspective of someone looking from the ground, the same person appears to be moving backwards, since the movement of the plane is much faster.

In summary, the daily rotation of the sun is produced by the cosmic kāla-cakra, centered on Dhruvaloka, while the motion through the zodiac signs belongs to the sun’s independent chariot.

Bhāgavatam confirms: the earth is a globe

“People living in countries at points diametrically opposite to where the sun is first seen rising will see the sun setting, and if a straight line were drawn from a point where the sun is at midday, the people in countries at the opposite end of the line would be experiencing midnight. Similarly, if people residing where the sun is setting were to go to countries diametrically opposite, they would not see the sun in the same condition.” (SB 5.21.9)

This verse confirms the spherical nature of our planet, and explains how this is key for our experience of days and nights due to the daily movement of the sun. This is different from the experience of the inhabitants of the summit of Mount Sumeru, a flat surface where it’s always day.

This description also supports the point made by Prabhupāda in his conclusions about the model of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, of the other tracts of land described in the model of Bhū-mandala being separate planets, which are connected by subtle pathways, since the description implies that the nature of days and nights should be consistent in the whole Bhū-mandala, or, in other words, similar to our planet. The only way for this model to work is for all the other varṣas of Bhū-mandala to also be globes, just as our planet. Somehow all these different globes are connected, forming the structure that is described in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam.

Prabhupāda confirms this conclusion in his introduction to chapter 21: “Sunrise, noon, sunset and midnight occur in all these places because of the movements of the sun. Diametrically opposite the place where the sunrise takes places and the sun is seen by human eyes, the sun will be setting and passing away from human vision. Similarly, the people residing diametrically opposite the point where it is midday will be experiencing midnight. The sun rises and sets with all the other planets, headed by the moon and other luminaries.”

The fact that Śukadeva Goswami connects this with the point about it always being day on top of Mount Sumeru is also significant, for it distinguishes the experience of demigods living there from the humans living in the earthly heavens of Bhū-mandala. If the other inhabitants of Bhū-mandala would also live on a flat surface and see the sun constantly circling overhead, there would be no practical difference between them, and the point raised by Śukadeva Goswami would become meaningless.

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.

You can receive new articles directly in your inbox. Subscription is free; donations are welcome.

Subscribe now

Nowadays, many are interested in yoga, but we often fail to understand the real spirit. In its original sense, the word “yoga” means “connection”. In its highest sense, it aims to reestablish the original nature of the soul as an eternal servant of Kṛṣṇa, which is the ultimate goal of life.

Ultimately, the whole material creation exists to allow souls to learn their lessons and advance on the spiritual path, gradually reawakening their original spiritual nature. Unlike what we usually think, yoga is not just a single process but a multitude of methods that lead to this ultimate goal. There is aṣṭāṅga-yoga, karma-yoga, jñāna-yoga, buddhi-yoga, bhakti-yoga, and so on.

The Bhagavad-gītā not only explains these different processes, but effectively gives us a ladder, explaining the difference between the various processes, the hierarchical relationship between them, and, most importantly, the path we need to follow to attain spiritual perfection. To understand this yoga ladder means to understand the essence of the message of the Bhagavad-gītā and its practical application.

From animal life to devotional service

The analogy of a ladder gives us the idea of a series of levels, starting low and going up. The highest level is the perfection of the soul in one’s eternal position of service to Kṛṣṇa. That’s the perfect stage, where the soul is not only completely free from material contamination but also fully awakened to his active, spiritual nature. As we go down the ladder, we have progressively lower stages of spiritual realization, culminating in the stages of the soul being immersed in material illusion.

The lowest stage of the yoga ladder is animal life. In this stage, the soul transmigrates through the lower forms of life: plants, aquatics, insects, reptiles, and mammals, gradually evolving in the cycle of samsara. In this stage, the soul remains immersed in sensual pleasures and the struggle for immediate survival. Devoid of superior intelligence, one is not directly engaged in a process of self-realization, and thus, the spiritual nature of the soul remains dormant. This category includes not only animals, plants, insects, and other lower forms of life, but also human beings who are just concerned about their immediate bodily needs. According to the Vedas, real human life starts at the point one starts to inquire about their real nature beyond the body. Before that, one may have two hands and two legs, but according to the Vedas, the threshold of human life has not yet been crossed.

Human life starts with the path of karma, or religious activities executed with the purpose of receiving material rewards. At this level, a person understands there is a spiritual nature that goes beyond this material world and agrees to follow a religious process and abide by some moral codes in exchange for receiving material recompenses later. In other words, one is still very much attracted to this material plane and sees religious life as a means to attain material prosperity, sensual pleasure, and a better destination after death, but at least acknowledges the existence of a superior authority that grants such results and agrees to live under the regulations of the scriptures.

We can observe that most religions are based on these principles: there is a vague notion of God (generally in an impersonal or semi-personal conception), but the objective is egoistical in nature, with the idea of using the process as a means to attain material rewards. In this sense, these processes are not much more than a bargain, where one pays a certain price in this life by following some rules and regulations with the idea of receiving more later. The Vedas also offer a process like this in the form of the karma-kanda sections, which prescribe a pious life and worship of different demigods with the purpose of attaining material rewards. Naturally, the goal is to gradually elevate the practitioner, first attracting one with the idea of material rewards and then slowly making him or her purified by the contact with spiritual knowledge and association with enlightened spiritual teachers.

This path is briefly described in the 3rd chapter of the Bhagavad-Gita:

“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. In charge of the various necessities of life, the demigods, being satisfied by the performance of yajña [sacrifice], will supply all necessities to you. But he who enjoys such gifts without offering them to the demigods in return is certainly a thief.” (3.10-12)

Although the path of karma gives a glimpse of the path of self-realization, making one understand that he is not this body, that there is a Supreme Controller, and that one should obey different moral and religious codes, it is not sufficient for liberating one from material captivity. A person practicing the path of karma is elevated to the higher planets, where he can enjoy superior standards of life in the company of other pious souls, but eventually the results of his past piety finish, and he has to again take birth in this plane. Remembering his past practice, the tendency is that he dedicates himself again to a pious life, gaining entrance to the superior planets again, just to again fall back to earth.

When one finally becomes tired of this cycle, he starts to look for deeper spiritual knowledge and start the path of jñāna, which is characterized by the cultivation of knowledge and renunciation. On this path, one exhausts his pursuit of material goals and instead dedicates himself to a self-realization process. In this way, one gradually progresses to the path of astanga-yoga, which helps one to control the mind. Once the mind is controlled, one can seriously practice a process of meditation, attaining brahman, or impersonal realization.

However, this is still not the ultimate realization. Such a yogi can progress up to the impersonal brahmajyoti, where he can enjoy a level of peace and bliss that is thousands of times superior to what one in the path of karma can enjoy on the higher planets. However, since this is not the ultimate destination of the soul, he has to eventually come back. Some yogis attain Paramatma realization, but this is also not the ultimate perfection. Such advanced yogis can transfer themselves to Satyaloka for additional practice. After a very long time there, they may attain the Vaikunta planets. This is, however, a very long way. A devotee can attain the spiritual world directly.

Both karma and jñāna are based on a selfish desire to achieve personal satisfaction or to achieve liberation and the end of material suffering. There is, however, a third process, the path of bhakti, that allows the soul to finally re-establish his eternal connection with Krsna and enter into the spiritual planets. This is the original position and final destination of the soul, from where one doesn’t have to come back.

The path of bhakti

The path of bhakti is independent of karma and jñāna, but one can add bhakti to his practice. When combined with bhakti, karma becomes karma-yoga, and when jñāna is combined with bhakti, it becomes jñāna-yoga. Yoga means “connection with the Lord”, therefore karma-yoga is the path of activities for establishing this transcendental connection, while jñāna-yoga is the cultivation of knowledge and renunciation with the same purpose. As Śrila Prabhupada explains in his purport to Bg. 6.46:

“When we speak of yoga we refer to linking our consciousness with the Supreme Absolute Truth. Such a process is named differently by various practitioners in terms of the particular method adopted. When the linking process is predominantly in fruitive activities it is called karma-yoga, when it is predominantly empirical it is called jñāna-yoga, and when it is predominantly in a devotional relationship with the Supreme Lord it is called bhakti-yoga. Bhakti-yoga, or Kṛṣṇa consciousness, is the ultimate perfection of all yogas, as will be explained in the next verse.”

Most of the first six chapters of the Bhagavad-Gita are dedicated to explaining the path of karma-yoga. Almost all of us are at the level where we have to perform activities. It’s very rare to find someone qualified to strictly follow the path of jñāna, especially in our age. If one tries to jump into the path of jñāna (renunciation) before he is ready, there is every possibility that he will fall later, and the result can be devastating. Again and again, Krsna recommends that Arjuna adopt instead the path of karma-yoga, which is also the standing advice for all of us. The main message of the Bhagavad-Gita is thus not to adopt a path of dry and premature renunciation, but to change our consciousness and connect our activities with Krsna. As he explains:

“Whatever you do, whatever you eat, whatever you offer or give away, and whatever austerities you perform – do that, O son of Kuntī, as an offering to Me.” (Bg 9.27)

The path of karma-yoga starts on the level of sakama-karma-yoga. The word sakama means “with desires”. At this level, the practitioner is still attached to sense satisfaction, economic development, social prestige, etc. In other words, one still has material desires and is attached to enjoying the fruits of his work, but he agrees to offer part of these fruits to Krsna in the form of charity, donations, or even direct service. By offering the fruits of his work to Krsna and assisting his devotees, he progresses in spiritual life and becomes purified. This is the path recommended for most as a starting point, since this is the level most of us can realistically follow. In terms of practical application, this basically means to stay in family life, get a good education, work in some honest job, and pursue his material goals to a certain extent, but at the same time cultivate spiritual life, donating part of his money and time to assist other devotees in their job of expanding Krsna Consciousness. This creates a platform where one can remain peaceful and thus have the presence of mind to continue his practice of devotional service.

The second level is called niskama-karma-yoga (without desires). At this level, one is already purified enough and is not attached to the fruits of one’s work. Although externally engaged in activities, one is internally renounced. At this level, one can just work for Krsna, living a simple life and assisting in the propagation of Krsna Consciousness. This is the level of devotees who serve full-time, be it by living in a temple or community, or by using all their time and resources to spread Krsna Consciousness, and living by just what comes naturally. Such devotees usually have simple lives, but have the opportunity to advance very fast. This is, however, a very difficult platform to maintain. Immature followers can harm themselves by trying to prematurely situate themselves on such a platform. This is quite an advanced level.

As we advance on the path, we advance in terms of both knowledge and devotion. Krsna emphasizes the importance of spiritual knowledge repeatedly in the Bhagavad-Gita:

“In this world, there is nothing so sublime and pure as transcendental knowledge. Such knowledge is the mature fruit of all mysticism. And one who has become accomplished in the practice of devotional service enjoys this knowledge within himself in due course of time. A faithful man who is dedicated to transcendental knowledge and who subdues his senses is eligible to achieve such knowledge, and having achieved it he quickly attains the supreme spiritual peace.” (Bg 4.38-39)

Work performed for Krsna not only does not produce new karma but also gradually destroys our previous karma, gradually purifying our consciousness without the need for separate effort. To be properly guided in this process, Krsna recommends one approach a qualified spiritual master and obtain spiritual knowledge from him. As one matures in his philosophical comprehension and increases his devotion, he becomes naturally detached.

“When one’s intelligence, mind, faith and refuge are all fixed in the Supreme, then one becomes fully cleansed of misgivings through complete knowledge and thus proceeds straight on the path of liberation.” (Bg 5.17)

When one finally becomes fully detached, he may stop working and simply dedicate himself to the process of self-realization. This is the position of a renunciant, who goes to live in a sacred place and spends the rest of his life just chanting under strict vows. However, Krsna recommends that one who attains this level continue working, not for himself, but to give an example to others. Work and renunciation are actually not opposed to each other. One who has the proper consciousness can remain fully renounced even while externally executing all kinds of activities. This is one of the main topics of the Bhagavad-gītā.

Spiritual practitioners who can follow this path become the ones who can most effectively help other people on the spiritual path and contribute the most to uplifting society. By not rejecting their skills and material talents but otherwise using them to reach other people, combining them with a deep and vast spiritual realization, such spiritual teachers can present spiritual knowledge in deep and practical ways and create true spiritual revolutions in their communities.

Different from a neophyte, who can just repeat passages from scriptures he barely understands, a spiritual teacher who can reach this level becomes the very embodiment of the highest spiritual realizations.

As one progresses in the cultivation of transcendental knowledge, he gradually progresses to the platform of buddhi-yoga, which means to work for Krsna with devotion and knowledge. This is a very advanced level. Such a devotee can progress to the stage of pure bhakti-yoga and attain Bhagavan realization, reestablishing his eternal relationship with Krsna, which is the ultimate goal of the yoga process. Fixing his mind on the path of self-realization through his practice of devotional service, such a practitioner does not have to practice astanga-yoga to attain the most elevated stage. As Krsna says:

“Always think of Me, become My devotee, worship Me and offer your homage unto Me. Thus you will come to Me without fail. I promise you this because you are My very dear friend.” (Bg 18.65)

A clear path

In this way, the evolution on the path of karma-yoga is:

1) Materialism: This is the platform where most modern people live, working just for the satisfaction of their desires. This level is described by Krsna in Bg. 3.16: “My dear Arjuna, one who does not follow in human life the cycle of sacrifice thus established by the Vedas certainly leads a life full of sin. Living only for the satisfaction of the senses, such a person lives in vain.” According to the Vedas, materialism is considered an extension of animal life, and one who doesn’t progress above this level risks returning to the evolutionary cycle, receiving an animal body in his next life.

2) Karma-kanda: This is the materialistic process of piety offered in the Vedas, where one follows religious principles in exchange for material progress and elevation to the celestial planets after death. This is described in the Vedas as the beginning of human life, and is described in the Gita on verses 3.10-11: “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.”

3) Sakama-karma-yoga: That’s where the path of devotional service begins. In his purports, Śrila Prabhupada describes karma-yoga as part of the stairs of devotional service, and translates the term “karma-yoga” as simply “devotional service” or “action in Krsna Consciousness.” One who wants to serve Krsna but is plagued by material desires can progress by executing his material activities but offering the results to Krsna, and thus gradually become purified of these desires.

4) Niskama-karma-yoga: In this level, one becomes detached from sense enjoyment and consequently from the results of one’s activities. As a result, one can simply work for Krsna without being concerned by the results. There may still be some attachment to the activity itself, with a devotee attached to work in a certain service or field according to his natural propensity of preferences, but this can be easily aligned with the service to the Lord.

5) Buddhi-yoga: The terms “sakama-karma-yoga” and “niskama-karma-yoga” simply describe one’s level of detachment. Generally, the level of niskama-karma-yoga is accompanied by deep philosophical understanding, but this is not a prerequisite. When we speak directly about a devotee who works for Krsna without attachment and with deep philosophical understanding, we call it buddhi-yoga (connection with Krsna through the use of intelligence).

The natural evolution is for one to progress from karma-kanda to sakama-karma-yoga and from there to niskama-karma-yoga or buddhi-yoga, and from any of the two processes eventually reach the platform of devotional service.

Karma and jñāna

When we speak about mundane karma or jñāna, there is a clear distinction between the karmi and the jñānī. In this case, the path of jñāna is clearly superior, and usually only one who is exhausted in the path of karma can start on the path of jñāna. However, when we speak about karma-yoga and jñāna-yoga, the distinction is not so clear. One may be able to achieve the ultimate goal on the path of niskama-karma-yoga, without ever fully transitioning to the path of jñāna-yoga, and thus a serious devotee on the path of karma-yoga may be much more elevated than a neophyte on the path of jñāna-yoga. Surely, one who is well-situated in the path of karma-yoga will also be much more elevated than an immature renunciant, aspiring for the path of jñāna, as described by Krsna several times in the course of the Bhagavad-gītā.

Jñāna by itself is the path of philosophical speculation, which typically leads to impersonalism. Although bhakti is described everywhere in the scriptures, one who is in the process of mental speculation will not be able to see it. Just as karma-kanda leads to elevation to the celestial planets, followed by a return to earth after the pious results are exhausted, the process of philosophical speculation leads, as a rule, to impersonalism and Brahman liberation, from which one eventually falls back to the mortal world.

However, when the cultivation of transcendental knowledge is combined with bhakti, one starts in the process of jñāna-yoga, which ultimately leads to pure devotional service.

The process of jñāna typically leads to astānga-yoga, which is described by Krsna in the 6th chapter. By practicing astānga-yoga, one may achieve Paramatma realization, and from there eventually reach the level of Bhagavan realization, if combined with bhakti.

The description of the path of jñāna-yoga and astānga-yoga given in the Bhagavad-Gita becomes clearer when we study the description of the process of Sankhya described by Lord Kapila in the 3rd chapter of the Srimad-Bhagavatam. The process he describes is a combination of analytical knowledge (jñāna) with the practice of astānga-yoga, practiced inside the purview of pure devotional service.

Technically, there is a difference between the external practices of the process of karma-yoga, jñāna-yoga, Sankhya, etc., but these differences are only superficial, since ultimately these are variations of the same process of devotional service, just externally performed differently according to the tendencies of the practitioner.

See what Krishna tells us in the 5th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā:

“Only the ignorant speak of devotional service [karma-yoga] as being different from the analytical study of the material world [Sāṅkhya]. Those who are actually learned say that he who applies himself well to one of these paths achieves the results of both. One who knows that the position reached by means of analytical study can also be attained by devotional service, and who therefore sees analytical study and devotional service to be on the same level, sees things as they are.” (Bg 5.4-5)

As Prabhupada explains in the Śrīmad Bhagavatam, each stage of the process of astanga-yoga has an equivalent to the process of bhakti-yoga. When we examine both the teachings of Krsna in the Bhagavad-Gita and the teachings of Lord Kapila in the Śrīmad Bhagavatam under this prism, we can see how both offer practical insights that can help us to improve our spiritual practice.

While the external performance may change slightly over the ages (a sage in Satya-yuga would meditate on Paramatma, while we meditate on the deity, for example), the core of the process, which is meditation on the transcendental form of the Lord, is the same for all ages, and when the words are taken in the proper context, we can see the knowledge he describes also directly applies to us.

In this way, although ordinarily, the path of karma leads to jñāna, when we speak about the path of devotional service, the distinction is not so clear, since both the processes of karma-yoga and jñāna-yoga lead to pure devotional service. One can thus achieve perfection in either of the two processes without having to necessarily transition from one to another. As Krsna explains, “Only the ignorant speak of devotional service [karma-yoga] as being different from the analytical study of the material world [Sāṅkhya]. Those who are actually learned say that he who applies himself well to one of these paths achieves the results of both.”

A devotee who bases his devotional practice on the cultivation of transcendental knowledge and meditation on the Lord also doesn’t have to practice astānga-yoga like an ordinary jñānī, because the result of the process of astānga-yoga, which is fixed meditation on the form of the Lord, can be achieved by the process of deity worship, as explained by Śrila Prabhupada in the 3rd canto of Śrīmad Bhagavatam. The same process of deity worship, as well as the process of śravaṇaṁ kīrtanaṁ viṣṇoḥ smaraṇaṁ, etc., is of course also practiced in the path of karma-yoga.

In this way, the paths of karma-yoga and jñāna-yoga offer two parallel paths inside the devotional ladder, and both can lead to pure devotional service. As Krsna explains, “He who applies himself well to one of these paths achieves the results of both.”

The path to perfection

Krsna explains this graduation of advancement according to the spiritual level of the practitioner in the 12th chapter of the Bhagavad-Gita from verses 8 to 12. These are very important verses to understand the spirit of the Bhagavad-gītā since they give us a map of the different levels described in the book, allowing us to understand where we are and the path to advance. Krsna doesn’t reject anyone. Regardless of where we are, there is always a clear path to advancement prepared for us. All we have to do is follow the process with determination and avoid the trap of premature renunciation and pretense, as Krsna warns in several verses of the Gita.

Back to the passage, in verse 8, He says:

“Just fix your mind upon Me, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, and engage all your intelligence in Me. Thus you will live in Me always, without a doubt.” (Bg 12.8)

This verse describes the process of pure bhakti-yoga, where there is a strong connection with Krsna based on pure love. On this level, one is spontaneously attracted to Krsna’s form, qualities, activities, and so on. On this level, one is always meditating on Krsna. One in this level is already liberated, even while living in this material world. This is the level of devotees like Uddhava or Arjuna. This path is described in detail in the 11th canto of Śrīmad Bhagavatam, as well as in chapters 7 to 12 of the Bhagavad-Gita.

What if one cannot follow the most elevated path? The answer comes in the 9th verse:

“My dear Arjuna, O winner of wealth, if you cannot fix your mind upon Me without deviation, then follow the regulative principles of bhakti-yoga. In this way develop a desire to attain Me.” (Bg 12.9)

This verse describes the process of sadhana bhakti, where one is not completely pure yet, but he is sufficiently detached to just practice sadhana and do service, without desires for material gain. At this level, a devotee may not yet be at the level where he can completely fix his mind on Krsna, but he is at least advanced and renounced enough to dedicate all his external activities to Him, living in a temple or sacred place, rising early, chanting on his beads, doing services that are pleasant to Krsna, and so on. This equals an advanced stage of jñana-yoga or niskama-karma-yoga. One who is not advanced will not be able to maintain this level, since his material desires will pull him back to the material sphere.

A third path, suitable for those who are not at such an advanced level, is revealed in the 10th verse:

“If you cannot practice the regulations of bhakti-yoga, then just try to work for Me, because by working for Me you will come to the perfect stage.” (Bg 12.10)

This verse describes the process of karma-yoga, where one still has an attachment to certain activities, but he is capable of connecting them to Krsna, using his propensity to act in Krsna’s service and dedicating the fruits of his work to Krsna. One at the level of niskama-karma-yoga will be able to effectively work for Krsna, while one at the level of sakama-karma-yoga may at least dedicate part of the results to Krsna Conscious activities.

A final path for the ones who are still lower on the yoga ladder is described in the next two verses:

“If, however, you are unable to work in this consciousness of Me, then try to act giving up all results of your work and try to be self-situated.” (Bg 12.11)

If one can’t directly work for Krsna because of attachment to the fruits of his work or social pressure, he should try to use his money for good causes and cultivate renunciation, at least internally. Becoming purified by these activities, he may eventually become a devotee of Krsna and start the path of karma-yoga.

“If you cannot take to this practice, then engage yourself in the cultivation of knowledge. Better than knowledge, however, is meditation, and better than meditation is renunciation of the fruits of action, for by such renunciation one can attain peace of mind.” (Bg 12.12)

One who cannot do anything practical may start by cultivating spiritual knowledge since spiritual knowledge is the start of the path of self-realization. As one applies this knowledge in his life and collects realizations, he will be able to gradually ascend the yoga ladder into the more advanced stages mentioned before. Better than just cultivating theoretical knowledge is to meditate, and better to meditate is to renounce the fruits of one’s work, which leads one to the path of karma-yoga.

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 daily movement of the sun around the Mānasottara path

“Śukadeva Gosvāmī continued; My dear King, as stated before, the learned say that the sun travels over all sides of Mānasottara Mountain in a circle whose length is 95,100,000 yojanas [760,800,000 miles]. On Mānasottara Mountain, due east of Mount Sumeru, is a place known as Devadhānī, possessed by King Indra. Similarly, in the south is a place known as Saṁyamanī, possessed by Yamarāja, in the west is a place known as Nimlocanī, possessed by Varuṇa, and in the north is a place named Vibhāvarī, possessed by the moon-god. Sunrise, midday, sunset and midnight occur in all those places according to specific times, thus engaging all living entities in their various occupational duties and also making them cease such duties.” (SB 5.21.7)

The previous verses described the annual orbit of the sun, where it moves counterclockwise around Mount Sumeru, on a tilted path, keeping the mountain on its left side. This movement is produced by the chariot of the sun moving forward, facing the signs of the zodiac, resulting in the passage of the seasons and the gradual shift in the duration of days and nights.

Now, text seven describes the daily orbit of the sun around Mānasottara Mountain, also circling Mount Sumeru, but now much faster and in a clockwise rotation, resulting in the passage of days and nights. In this daily movement, the sun moves in the opposite direction, keeping Mount Sumeru on its right.

If we follow the analogy of the sun as a chariot, given later on, with one axle fixed to the top of Mount Sumeru and the other running on the Mānasottara path, the orbit of the sun over Bhū-mandala would look like this, with the sun circling daily on the region of the yogurt-ocean:

This is a very simplified diagram. It can help us understand this daily movement of the sun, but at the same time it is misleading, because it gives the idea of a fixed path. The sun does indeed go around every day, but simultaneously there is the annual movement of the sun facing the constellations that we already studied. This second, simultaneous movement, makes the sun gradually move to the north and south of the equator of Bhū-mandala as the year passes. The two movements go on simultaneously, creating the days and nights and also the seasons.

This is exactly the point about the sun moving both clockwise and counterclockwise that confuses Maharaja Parīkṣit, leading him to ask on 5.22.1, “How can we reasonably accept that the sun-god proceeds with Sumeru and Dhruvaloka on both his left and right simultaneously?“

Let’s try to understand how the model works.

At first, the idea of the sun moving clockwise and counterclockwise at the same time sounds absurd, but the model actually works. The point is that while the chariot of the sun moves in one direction, going north and south, facing the constellations, it is forced to move in a different direction by the movement of the whole sky around Dhruvaloka (the polestar). This movement is not produced by the sun itself, but by the rotation of the whole sky (kāla-cakra) established by the Lord.

This is a mysterious, but critical point to be understood in Vedic cosmology: all luminaries have similar dual movements. One movement is independent, according to their orbits in relation to each other, and another is caused by the daily rotation of the whole sky around Dhruvaloka.

How does it work? One example that can be given is a whirlwind, where all the particles of dust move following the general movement of the wind, but at the same time move in relation to each other. Another example is ants moving on top of a potter’s wheel rotating at great speed (an example Śukadeva Goswami will use later).

Again, it may sound implausible that the whole sky may move and circle Bhū-mandala daily, but that’s the whole point of the Vedic model. It is not about physics, but about the desire of the Lord. He is the one who makes the rules. Even if we prefer to accept the modern cosmological model, we should agree that the Vedic model properly describes the movement of the sun, planets and stars from a geocentric perspective (matching what we see when we look to the sky) and that in a higher-dimensional reality, the model can be observed by demigods and other higher beings exactly as described.

In this way, the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam not only describes a higher dimensional reality, but gives us a theistic model for the movement of the luminaries in the sky. If we get used to meditating on the movements of the sun, planets and stars following this description, as a wonderful creation that reflects the artistic sense of the Supreme Lord, this will help us in our spiritual development.

“When the sun travels from Devadhānī, the residence of Indra, to Saṁyamanī, the residence of Yamarāja, it travels 23,775,000 yojanas [190,200,000 miles] in fifteen ghaṭikās [six hours]. From the residence of Yamarāja the sun travels to Nimlocanī, the residence of Varuṇa, from there to Vibhāvarī, the residence of the moon-god, and from there again to the residence of Indra. In a similar way, the moon, along with the other stars and planets, becomes visible in the celestial sphere and then sets and again becomes invisible.” (SB 5.21.10-11)

Text seven described that the circuit of the sun around Mānasottara Mountain is 95,100,000 yojanas in length. In each of the four directions of this circuit, there is a different abode, ruled over by one of the principal demigods. In its daily rotation around Dhruvaloka, following the movement of the kāla-cakra, the sun takes six hours to travel the 23,775,000 yojanas from one point to the other, resulting in the four divisions of the day: sunrise, midday, sunset and midnight.

Thus, the Bhāgavatam gives us a map of the sun’s daily circuit around Mānasottara and how each stage is perceived by us:

Devadhānī (east—Indra): sunrise

Saṁyamanī (south—Yama): midday

Nimlocanī (west–Varuṇa): sunset

Vibhāvarī (north–Candra): midnight

Back to Devadhānī: sunrise

This is the Bhāgavatam explanation for the concept of time zones in the model of a spherical earth. People in different parts of the planet see the sun rising and setting at different times, and this same system affects not only our planet, but all the varṣas of Bhū-mandala. The passage of time is thus a continuous, unbroken cycle, connected with the kāla-cakra, the wheel of the Lord.

What about the mention of the moon, together with the other stars and planets? They all follow similar daily cycles, orbiting around Dhruvaloka, rising and setting at their allotted times. The sun is the chief, but all the other luminaries follow the same orderly procession.

For a modern astronomer, it may be more comfortable to presume that the cycles of days and nights happen because of the rotation of the earth, rather than imagine that the whole sky rotates, but again, the point made in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam is that all of it happens by the order of the Lord. Kṛṣṇa is so powerful that when He orders the whole sky to rotate once a day around the planet of His pure devotee, Dhruva, the stars and planets have no choice but to obey.

Another meaning of the passing of days and nights is that it is the arrangement of the Lord to engage all living beings in their respective prescribed duties. Waking up at certain times, working at certain times, worshiping at certain times, and so on.

In his purport to text eleven, Prabhupāda repeats a few important conclusions about the Vedic model of the universe that are offered in other passages:

“In Bhagavad-gītā (10.21) Kṛṣṇa says, nakṣatrāṇām ahaṁ śaśī: “Of stars I am the moon.” This indicates that the moon is similar to the other stars. The Vedic literature informs us that within this universe there is one sun, which is moving. The Western theory that all the luminaries in the sky are different suns is not confirmed in the Vedic literature. Nor can we assume that these luminaries are the suns of other universes, for each universe is covered by various layers of material elements, and therefore although the universes are clustered together, we cannot see from one universe to another. In other words, whatever we see is within this one universe. In each universe there is one Lord Brahmā, and there are other demigods on other planets, but there is only one sun.”

This can be summarized in three points:

a) The stars in the Vedic model have a different nature from what is believed in modern cosmology. They are not described as independent suns like in modern cosmology, but rather as reflecting the light of the sun, or emitting light through other processes. The Vedic universe is still huge, but it is smaller in scale than believed in modern theories.

b) There is only one sun per universe, which somehow illuminates not only the earth, but all intermediate planets simultaneously. Somehow, different planets appear to be far away to us, scattered around the cosmos, but in the higher-dimensional structure described in the Purāṇas, they somehow come close. Thus, their inhabitants see the sun rising and setting daily, just as we do. We will explore a possible explanation for how this appears in our gross reality in the topic about exoplanets.

c) Everything we see in the sky is part of our own universe. Other universes are isolated from ours by the universal coverings. This rejects the interpretation that each solar system may be a separate universe.

With this, we can continue with the description of Sukadeva Gosvami:

“Thus the chariot of the sun-god, which is trayīmaya, or worshiped by the words om bhūr bhuvaḥ svaḥ, travels through the four residences mentioned above at a speed of 3,400,800 yojanas [27,206,400 miles] in a muhūrta.” (SB 5.21.12)

The sun is not just a physical object (as believed by materialists), nor just the planet of a demigod (as believed by Vedic karma-kandis). Ultimately, the sun is a manifestation of the Supreme Lord, who pervades it as Surya-Narāyana. The sun, as a planet, is just His abode, and the demigod of the sun, His servant. When the Vedas describe the sun-god, they actually describe the Supreme Lord.

The special property of the sun is to reflect the light of the impersonal Brahmājyoti, converting it into visible light that illuminates the whole universe. As Prabhupāda concludes, there is just one sun per universe, because no other material planet or star has this property. This also explains how stars which are extremely far away can still reflect the light of the sun. It is not about mere physical light.

“The chariot of the sun-god has only one wheel, which is known as Saṁvatsara. The twelve months are calculated to be its twelve spokes, the six seasons are the sections of its rim, and the three cātur-māsya periods are its three-sectioned hub. One side of the axle carrying the wheel rests upon the summit of Mount Sumeru, and the other rests upon Mānasottara Mountain. Affixed to the outer end of the axle, the wheel continuously rotates on Mānasottara Mountain like the wheel of an oil-pressing machine.

As in an oil-pressing machine, this first axle is attached to a second axle, which is one-fourth as long [3,937,500 yojanas, or 31,500,000 miles]. The upper end of this second axle is attached to Dhruvaloka by a rope of wind.” (SB 5.21.13)

The sun is described as a chariot in the sense of a carrier, or vehicle, and not as an earthen chariot made of wood. This divine vehicle is called trayīmaya (trayī = the three Vedas, maya = pervaded by). When we chant the gāyatrī mantra, starting with the words Om bhūr bhuvaḥ svaḥ, we worship this manifestation of the Supreme Lord, which illuminates the three worlds and travels at great speeds around the cosmos.

The verse mentions that the sun travels 3,400,800 yojanas per muhūrta (48 minutes), which follows the same figures given in text seven. There are 30 muhūrtas in 24 hours, and thus, 3,400,800 yojanas multiplied by 30 results in the same 95,100,000 yojanas per day mentioned there.

As also mentioned previously, the axis of the sun is connected to Mount Sumeru on one side, and Mānasottara Mountain on the other. Following the analogy of the chariot, the annual movement of the sun is compared to a wheel, known as Saṁvatsara. Just as the sun is not literally a chariot made of wood, this wheel is not literally a wheel running on top of a mountain. The verse uses it as a metaphor to explain the solar year: “The twelve months are calculated to be its twelve spokes, the six seasons are the sections of its rim, and the three cātur-māsya periods are its three-sectioned hub.”

In this metaphor, the whole year is compared to a rotating wheel, with each rotation corresponding to one solar year (or one circle of the sun facing the constellations). The wheel has twelve spokes, which correspond to the twelve months, and the rim is divided into six connected sections, which correspond to the six seasons of the Vedic calendar: Vasanta (spring), Grīṣma (summer), Varṣā (rainy), Śarad (autumn), Hemanta (pre-winter), and Śiśira (winter). The central hub is composed of three joined sections, which correspond to the three cāturmāsya periods of four months each.

In this way, the verse teaches that the movement of the sun is not random. It is aligned with the performance of dharma through the performance of one’s duties in agriculture, worship, etc. Just as the sun moves in the sky following the order of the Lord, we should also move, performing our duties according to the times of the day and seasons of the year, according to the prescriptions of the scriptures.

The sun is thus called trayīmaya because its course embodies the structure of the Vedas. We should also follow this structure by performing our prescribed duties.

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.

In 1916, Śrīla Prabhupāda entered the Scottish Churches’ College, a prestigious Christian school run by Scottish priests. This was the place where Prabhupāda received most of his material education, deepened his understanding of the English language, and sharpened many of the skills he would later use in the service of Kṛṣṇa. He graduated in 1920, but refused to accept a diploma as a protest against British rule, just as many others at that time.

A little later, in 1922, Śrīla Prabhupāda had his first meeting with Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī Ṭhākura in Kolkata, which convinced him to change the direction of his whole life, dedicating himself to the propagation of Kṛṣṇa consciousness. He would meet just a handful of times more with him, but that was all that was necessary to give Prabhupāda the instructions and realization that would push him in the direction of fulfilling his mission of spreading Kṛṣṇa consciousness in the western countries.

This is how the events leading to this first meeting are described in the Śrīla Prabhupāda Lilamrta:

ABHAY’S FRIEND NARENDRANATH Mullik was insistent. He wanted Abhay to see a sādhu from Māyāpur. Naren and some of his friends had already met the sādhu at his nearby āśrama on Ultadanga Junction Road, and now they wanted Abhay’s opinion. Everyone within their circle of friends considered Abhay the leader, so if Naren could tell the others that Abhay also had a high regard for the sādhu, then that would confirm their own estimations. Abhay was reluctant to go, but Naren pressed him.

They stood talking amidst the passersby on the crowded early-evening street, as the traffic of horse-drawn hackneys, oxcarts, and occasional auto taxis and motor buses moved noisily on the road. Naren put his hand firmly around his friend’s arm, trying to drag him forward, while Abhay smiled but stubbornly pulled the other way. Naren argued that since they were only a few blocks away, they should at least pay a short visit. Abhay laughed and asked to be excused. People could see that the two young men were friends, but it was a curious sight, the handsome young man dressed in white khādī kurtā and dhotī being pulled along by his friend.

Naren explained that the sādhu, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī, was a Vaiṣṇava and a great devotee of Lord Caitanya Mahāprabhu. One of his disciples, a sannyāsī, had visited the Mullik house and had invited them to meet Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta. A few of the Mulliks had gone to see him and had been very much impressed.

But Abhay remained skeptical. “Oh, no! I know all these sādhus,” he said. “I’m not going.” Abhay had seen many sādhus in his childhood; every day his father had entertained at least three or four in his home. Some of them were no more than beggars, and some even smoked gāñjā. Gour Mohan had been very liberal in allowing anyone who wore the saffron robes of a sannyāsī to come. But did it mean that though a man was no more than a beggar or gāñjā smoker, he had to be considered saintly just because he dressed as a sannyāsī or was collecting funds in the name of building a monastery or could influence people with his speech?

Naren argued that he felt that this particular sādhu was a very learned scholar and that Abhay should at least meet him and judge for himself. Abhay wished that Naren would not behave this way, but finally he could no longer refuse his friend. Together they walked past the Parsnath Jain Temple to 1 Ultadanga, with its sign, Bhaktivinod Asana, announcing it to be the quarters of the Gaudiya Math.

Śrīla Prabhupāda had grown up observing his father receive many so-called sadhus in their house. However, he could notice the blatant discrepancies in their habits and behaviour with the descriptions of a sadhu from the scriptures. His father was very liberal in honoring everyone, but Prabhupāda could see that most of the so-called sadhus were not really very saintly. When his friend Narendranarth insisted for his to visit this sadhu from Kolkata with him, his first reaction was to presume he was just another of them. This impression, however, was quickly dispelled during their meeting:

Sitting with his back very straight, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī appeared tall. He was slender, his arms were long, and his complexion was fair and golden. He wore round bifocals with simple frames. His nose was sharp, his forehead broad, and his expression was very scholarly yet not at all timid. The vertical markings of Vaiṣṇava tilaka on his forehead were familiar to Abhay, as were the simple sannyāsa robes that draped over his right shoulder, leaving the other shoulder and half his chest bare. He wore tulasī neck beads, and the clay Vaiṣṇava markings of tilaka were visible at his throat, shoulder, and upper arms. A clean white brahminical thread was looped around his neck and draped across his chest. Abhay and Naren, having both been raised in Vaiṣṇava families, immediately offered prostrated obeisances at the sight of the revered sannyāsī.

While the two young men were still rising and preparing to sit, before any preliminary formalities of conversation had begun, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta immediately said to them, “You are educated young men. Why don’t you preach Lord Caitanya Mahāprabhu’s message throughout the whole world?”

Abhay could hardly believe what he had just heard. They had not even exchanged views, yet this sādhu was telling them what they should do. Sitting face to face with Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī, Abhay was gathering his wits and trying to gain a comprehensible impression, but this person had already told them to become preachers and go all over the world!

Drawn irresistibly into discussion, Abhay spoke up in answer to the words Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta had so tersely spoken in the first seconds of their meeting. “Who will hear your Caitanya’s message?” Abhay queried. “We are a dependent country. First India must become independent. How can we spread Indian culture if we are under British rule?”

Abhay had not asked haughtily, just to be provocative, yet his question was clearly a challenge. If he were to take this sādhu’s remark to them as a serious one – and there was nothing in Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta’s demeanor to indicate that he had not been serious – Abhay felt compelled to question how he could propose such a thing while India was still dependent.

Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta replied in a quiet, deep voice that Kṛṣṇa consciousness didn’t have to wait for a change in Indian politics, nor was it dependent on who ruled. Kṛṣṇa consciousness was so important – so exclusively important – that it could not wait.

Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta continued: Whether one power or another ruled was a temporary situation; but the eternal reality is Kṛṣṇa consciousness, and the real self is the spirit soul. No man-made political system, therefore, could actually help humanity. This was the verdict of the Vedic scriptures and the line of spiritual masters. Although everyone is an eternal servant of God, when one takes himself to be the temporary body and regards the nation of his birth as worshipable, he comes under illusion. The leaders and followers of the world’s political movements, including the movement for svarāj, were simply cultivating this illusion. Real welfare work, whether individual, social, or political, should help prepare a person for his next life and help him reestablish his eternal relationship with the Supreme.

He felt himself defeated. But he liked it. He suddenly realized that he had never before been defeated. But this defeat was not a loss. It was an immense gain.

Śrīla Prabhupāda: I was from a Vaiṣṇava family, so I could appreciate what he was preaching. Of course, he was speaking to everyone, but he found something in me. And I was convinced about his argument and mode of presentation. I was so much struck with wonder. I could understand: Here is the proper person who can give a real religious idea.

Walking away from the āśrama, Naren turned to his friend: “So, Abhay, what was your impression? What do you think of him?”

“He’s wonderful!” replied Abhay. “The message of Lord Caitanya is in the hands of a very expert person.”

Śrīla Prabhupāda: I accepted him as my spiritual master immediately. Not officially, but in my heart. I was thinking that I had met a very nice saintly person.

A few newly discovered pictures shed some new light on these events. This is Narendranath Mullik, the friend who brought Śrīla Prabhupāda to the meeting:

Despite his enthusiasm, he didn’t become a follower of Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī Ṭhākura, but his contribution was already made. These photos were revealed by his grandson, who found the photos in the family album.

This is another photo that shows him discussing a book with Śrīla Prabhupāda, prior to the meeting. It appears to have been captured in an old tripod-mounted bellows camera, on dry film; therefore, the quality is not the best:

This is a reconstructed version of the same photo using AI. Sharper, but probably not right on the details:

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.

At the beginning of the Gītā, Arjuna was inclined to abandon the battlefield and adopt a process of dry renunciation. This was counteracted by Kṛṣṇa in chapters two and three, by His exposition of analytical knowledge, and the process of karma-yoga. In chapter four, however, Kṛṣṇa appears to again glorify knowledge and renunciation, which many are predisposed to interpret as abstaining from activity.

Arjuna then starts the 5th chapter with another honest inquiry: what is better after all? To renounce work (sannyasa) or to act in devotional service? Kṛṣṇa answers that devotional service is the best process, for it allows us to use our senses in ways that free ourselves from material bondage instead of binding us more and more. A devotee does not need to artificially restrict eating like an ascetic; we just has to eat only prasadām. We don’t need to remain silent, we just need to speak about Kṛṣṇa, and so on.

This description of the process of devotional service, which comes as a result of the cultivation of transcendental knowledge (starting with the acceptance of a spiritual master) is concluded in text 5.29, a verse that summarizes much of what Kṛṣṇa describes up to here in the Gītā:

bhoktāraṁ yajña-tapasāṁ, sarva-loka-maheśvaram
suhṛdaṁ sarva-bhūtānāṁ, jñātvā māṁ śāntim ṛcchati

“A person in full consciousness of Me, knowing Me to be the ultimate beneficiary of all sacrifices and austerities, the Supreme Lord of all planets and demigods, and the benefactor and well-wisher of all living entities, attains peace from the pangs of material miseries.”

This is the true peace formula, at all levels. In the material world, people want peace, but they have no idea of how to achieve that. On the contrary, we see conflict at all levels. Even in the celestial planets, there is enmity, war, and misery caused by it. Kṛṣṇa shares three realizations that solve the problem.

a) bhoktāraṁ yajña-tapasām: Kṛṣṇa is the real beneficiary and enjoyer of all sacrifices and austerities. He is the root of all existence. We should not perform sacrifices or austerities for our own prestige or gain. Instead, all activities should be performed for the satisfaction of Kṛṣṇa. This eliminates artificial competition based on ego.

Since Kṛṣṇa is the ultimate beneficiary, everyone works together for him, instead of against each other. More than that, by working in this spirit, all our sacrifices will culminate in transcendental knowledge, as Kṛṣṇa declared in chapter four.

b) sarva-loka-maheśvaram: Kṛṣṇa is the supreme proprietor. He is the master of all planets and their controllers, greater than anyone. This realization defeats the illusory sense of ownership that is the root cause of all conflicts. A materialist thinks he is the lord of everything he sees, but in reality, he is just a slave of his senses. When the proper conclusion is restored, we can finally see everything properly, just like when the sun appears to dispel the darkness of night. Conversely, when we refuse the service of Kṛṣṇa, we end up being enslaved by material nature.

c) suhṛdaṁ sarva-bhūtānām: Kṛṣṇa is the closest friend of all living entities, the well-wisher of all. Therefore, surrendering to Him is not our loss, but our welfare. This also explains how a pure devotee can be friendly to all living entities. Kṛṣṇa is the supreme friend, and a pure devotee is his representative.

These three realizations work together. If Kṛṣṇa were simply the proprietor, we would fear, or maybe envy, Him. If He were only the enjoyer, one could feel exploited. But because He is the supreme friend, surrendering to Him becomes natural. Once Kṛṣṇa is accepted as the dearmost friend, the fact that He is the supreme proprietor and enjoyer becomes a distant secondary detail. That’s how Kṛṣṇa’s cowherd associates in Goloka see it. They understand that Kṛṣṇa is the Supreme Controller, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, but this knowledge is eclipsed by their love for Kṛṣṇa as a friend. They love Kṛṣṇa because of their personal relationship with Him, not as a powerful person or celebrity.

Kṛṣṇa then concludes the verse with jñātvā māṁ śāntim ṛcchati. One who fully understands these three facts becomes situated in full Kṛṣṇa consciousness and attains peace from the pangs of material miseries. This is a summary of the process of Kṛṣṇa consciousness that Kṛṣṇa explains from chapter two and deepens in the following chapters.

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 movement of the sun facing the constellations

“When the sun passes through Meṣa [Aries] and Tulā [Libra], the durations of day and night are equal. When it passes through the five signs headed by Vṛṣabha [Taurus], the duration of the days increases [until Cancer], and then it gradually decreases by half an hour each month, until day and night again become equal [in Libra].

When the sun passes through the five signs beginning with Vṛścika [Scorpio], the duration of the days decreases [until Capricorn], and then gradually it increases month after month, until day and night become equal [in Aries].

Until the sun travels to the south the days grow longer, and until it travels to the north the nights grow longer.” (SB 5.21.4-6)

The movement of the sun around the zodiac (passing north or south of the celestial equator), results in the days becoming longer or shorter, as the seasons go by. The sun goes through the twelve signs during the year.

This explanation becomes easier to follow when we look at the wheel of the zodiac.

The text says, “When the sun passes through Meṣa [Aries] and Tulā [Libra], the durations of day and night are equal.”

These are the two equinoxes (vaiṣuvata), when the sun is aligned with the equatorial plane and the duration of the days and nights is approximately equal at most latitudes. This happens only twice per year, when the sun enters in Meṣa (Aries) and Tulā (Libra). In the modern calendar, this corresponds approximately to March 20 and September 22.

In the model described in these verses, the equator of our planet corresponds also to the celestial equator of Bhū-maṇḍala, since in the Vedic model the earth is not tilted. The same phenomenon should thus be observed in the other planets that compose the planetary system.

Let’s take Aries as the starting point. When the sun enters Aries (nine o’clock on the wheel of the zodiac of the illustration), the day and nights are approximately the same. From Aries, the sun goes to Taurus (Vṛṣabha) and then Gemini (Mithuna) and Cancer (Karkaṭa). Here the sun is moving northward of the equator (udagayana). The practical effect will be opposite in the two hemispheres and will vary according to the latitude. The Bhāgavatam explains it from the point of view of someone in central India. At these latitudes, the transition makes the days longer at a rate of approximately half an hour for each sign, with the sun’s daily arc becoming progressively longer.

When the sun enters Cancer, the days become very long in relation to the nights: approximately 13.5 hours for the days and 10.5 hours for the nights. This is the summer solstice.

After Cancer, there is a reversal. With the sun entering Leo, the days become shorter by about half an hour, and then half an hour more in Virgo. By the time the sun enters Libra, the days and nights are again approximately equal.

We have then the second half of the year, when the sun goes to the southern hemisphere (dakṣiṇa-ayana) and the days become shorter, leading to the colder season. As the sun enters Scorpio and then Sagittarius, the days become progressively shorter, reaching their minimum duration in Capricorn. That’s the winter solstice.

From there, there is again a reversal, with the days gradually increasing as the sun goes through Aquarius and Pisces, until they once more become equal back in Aries. This is also indicated in the text: “When the sun passes through the five signs beginning with Vṛścika [Scorpio], the duration of the days decreases [until Capricorn], and then gradually it increases month after month, until day and night become equal [in Aries].”

In short, the northward movement results in longer days and the southward movement in shorter days. This is a concise explanation of how the movement of the sun results in seasonal change.

What about the sun moving slowly, swiftly, or moderately?

Śukadeva Goswami mentions that “While passing toward the north, toward the south or through the equator, in accordance with the order of the Supreme Personality of Godhead, it is said to move slowly, swiftly or moderately.” What does it mean?

In his commentary to this passage, Śrila Viśvanātha Cakravartī Ṭhākura explains that although the sun spends the same time in each sign (a little over one month), the speed of the change in the duration of the days and nights is not constant. At some points of the year the duration of the days shortens quickly, and at others it increases slowly. This doesn’t mean the movement of the sun changes; it is just the practical phenomenon due to the shifts in the north-south position of the sun relative to Bhū-maṇḍala, which changes the arc of illumination.

This change in the apparent speed of the sun and the movement through the signs of the zodiac are easier to understand when we see the annual path of the sun in the sky (analemma). Let’s thus bring back the same photo we saw a few pages ago. You can notice the movement of the sun through the signs of the zodiac and that the apparent speed of the sun changes during the annual path. The sun appears to move slowly on the two extremes, and faster in between.

During the uttarāyaṇa period (beginning with the winter solstice), the length of the days increases slowly as the sun moves through Capricorn, Aquarius, etc., from the minimum of the winter solstice. On the other half of the movement, starting from the summer solstice, as the sun moves through Cancer, Leo, etc., the length of the days shortens quickly. During the equinox periods, as the sun moves through Aries and Libra, the change happens at a moderate speed.

In this way, the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam describes the practical phenomenon that is observable from our planet. The same is also studied in modern astronomy; it is just explained differently. Modern models explain it through the elliptical orbit of the earth around the sun, and the tilt of the earth’s axis, while the Bhāgavatam explains it in terms of the two movements of the sun, moving through the zodiac and around Dhruvaloka.

The movement of the sun is supposed to be similarly observable from the other planets that compose Bhū-mandala. In other words, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west and moves through the signs of the zodiac, producing the seasons; the days last 24 hours, and so on. In this way, all human beings on these different planets should experience the passage of time in the same way. The demigods living on top of Mount Sumeru, on the other hand, see the sun as always moving overhead (similar to what we observe at the north pole). Their days and nights are produced solely by the annual movement of the sun, north and south of the plane of Bhū-mandala, a cycle that takes a whole year. In other words, 24 hours for them equals 360 days for us.

The movement of the sun in relation to Bhū-mandala

The movement of the sun facing the constellations, north and south of the equator, causes the variation in the lengths of the days and nights (explained in modern cosmology by the orbit of the earth around the sun), and also explains the variations in the rate of increase and decrease of the length of the days over the course of the year. This phenomenon applies not only to our planet but to the whole Bhū-mandala.

What an observer at the equator sees as the middle of the sky is the equator of Bhū-mandala. Imagining Bhū-mandala as a planetary system, where each varṣa is a separate planet, as Prabhupāda concluded, the orbit of the sun should be seen according to the same principle in all planets of the planetary system.

In this model, everywhere there is day and night, and the length of the days and nights shifts during the year, exactly as described in these verses. The explanation of Śukadeva Goswami thus works for the whole intermediate system. For the demigods, however, both on top of Mount Sumeru and in Svargaloka, it works differently, as will be explained in the next verses.

One question one could ask is that this model implies that the sun moves north and south of the equator of Bhū-mandala. How is this possible? This is the logical conclusion from the description, since it fits the model, and is directly described in the text by the use of the terms uttarāyaṇa and dakṣiṇāyana (the sun travels “to the south” and “to the north,” producing long and short days, as described on SB 5.21.6), but since everything is possible in Kṛṣṇa’s creation, it can also be that there is some other explanation of how it occurs. However, if we accept Bhū-mandala as a planetary system, and not literally as a set of islands, the idea of the sun moving south of the equator of Bhū-mandala doesn’t sound too implausible, since it is not about crossing solid ground.

Having described the annual movement of the sun, in which it moves to the north and south, resulting in the variation of the lengths of days and nights and the passage of the seasons, Śukadeva Gosvāmī now explains the daily movement of the sun around Mānasottara Mountain.

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.

We can observe that in India, many worship demigods. Images of Laksmi, Durgā, and Gaṇeśa are almost universally worshiped by Hindus. People believe that by worshiping them, they can achieve material wealth. Often, we can definitely see the correlation: many Hindus are absurdly rich, especially many living abroad. We will also hear many anecdotal accounts: people being promoted at work, growing their businesses, solving family problems, having their visas approved, etc.

Philosophically, however, this worship can be a confusing topic.

First, can demigods really make their worshipers rich? Kṛṣṇa Himself mentions this in the Gītā (4.12):

“Men in this world desire success in fruitive activities, and therefore they worship the demigods. Quickly, of course, men get results from fruitive work in this world.”

This, however, brings us a philosophical problem: We are supposed to live according to the results of our karma. What we get is supposed to be determined by our past pious and impious activities, as well as the type of activities we perform in this life. Therefore, how to understand that some may cut the line by worshiping demigods?

Firstly, it’s important to define what kind of results worshipers of demigods attain. We tend to see material wealth as something permanent, and this is even reflected in our language. We say “he is rich” as if the “rich” state is something permanent, while in reality, it is just a temporary state. He was not rich in the past, and he will not be rich in the future. His wealth is restricted to the present. “He is rich” is, therefore, practically speaking, like saying “he is dressed in blue”. It is a temporary state. Unless he acts piously in this life, this status will not continue in the future or in the next lives.

Kṛṣṇa also explains that in the Bhagavad-gītā, when He mentions:

antavat tu phalaṁ teṣāṁ, tad bhavaty alpa-medhasām
devān deva-yajo yānti, mad-bhaktā yānti mām api

Prabhupāda translates this verse as follows:

“Men of small intelligence worship the demigods, and their fruits are limited and temporary. Those who worship the demigods go to the planets of the demigods, but My devotees ultimately reach My supreme planet.”

The key words in our context are antavat tu phalaṁ teṣāṁ, tad bhavaty alpa-medhasām. The fruits (phalam) of the worship of demigods are perishable (anta-vat). Their benefit is only temporary, and therefore, they are pursued only by people of small intelligence (alpa-medhasām).

Different from what many believe, demigods are not separate deities. The Absolute Truth is just one, which is understood in three aspects: Brahman, Paramātmā, and Bhagavān. There are not three concurrent aspects, but three aspects of the same person. The ultimate aspect is Kṛṣṇa Himself, who manifests in many other forms, such as Viṣnu. The same person manifests in different forms. Paramātmā is Kṛṣṇa’s partial manifestation, His localized aspect, while Brahman is just His personal effulgence that permeates everything. These three aspects are worshipped by different classes of transcendentalists.

Demigods, however, are part of the material creation. They are jīvas, souls like you and me, who receive higher posts due to their piety. They are like ministers, who are in charge of managing the universe. They are thus just part of the cosmic governmental apparatus, and not separate controllers.

There are two forms of worship of demigods. The first is the proper way to worship them, as described in the Vedas. This involves careful sacrifices, where ghee, grains, and other items are offered to Viṣnu, and then the prasāda is offered to the demigods. This form of sacrifice is actually a form of worship of Viṣnu. The demigods are only secondary beneficiaries, worshiped in relation to Him. In this case, Lord Viṣnu is worshiped, and the material results are delivered through the demigods.

This is called karma-kanda. It is not a form of karmic bypass. It is just a form of pious transaction within the system. A person performs a pious action by performing the sacrifice and thus receives a certain material result.

Nowadays, however, it is very rare to find people who follow this proper process. What most do is to follow some irregular process, where they offer some form of worship, approaching a particular demigod and directly asking for material favors. This process is irregular; it is not prescribed in the Vedas at all. It is like approaching governmental officers directly with bribes to secure favors. Sometimes it may work, sometimes not, but the point is that it is not the proper process.

Just as a proper state maintains all its citizens, everyone receives their means of subsistence according to their past karma. One who properly pays their taxes and acts lawfully is protected by the state, while others who are criminals may go to jail and face a hard time. Jail, however, is also a form of care, for one is being reformed from this criminal behavior so he may become a lawful citizen in the future.

Everyone is supposed to pay their taxes. This part of the analogy is compared to general formal worship of God as prescribed in the Vedas, accepting Him as the ultimate proprietor, just as Kṛṣṇa declares in the Gītā (10.8): “I am the source of all spiritual and material worlds. Everything emanates from Me. The wise who perfectly know this engage in My devotional service and worship Me with all their hearts.”

Demigods may also be honored in this lawful system through proper Vedic ceremonies, just as ministers and others may be offered respect by citizens and hear their complaints in the context of their work for the state. Directly approaching demigods, however, is not part of this system.

How then can we explain that people who do so still often get results? The point is that although this process is irregular, Kṛṣṇa still allows it to a certain extent because this can benefit ordinary people, making them at least accept the existence of superior authorities and submit to them. It is better for a person to worship demigods, even if in an irregular and sentimental way, than to become a plain atheist. A worshiper of demigods may eventually become a devotee of Kṛṣṇa when he receives proper knowledge, but for an atheist, it is more difficult. A worshiper of demigods will also be more prone to follow basic moral rules, such as leading an honest life, giving charity, being vegetarian, etc., understanding that breaking these rules will dissatisfy their deity and potentially bring misfortune. Even though materialistic, a worshiper of demigods is thus more prone to lead a pious life than a gross materialist. The system is thus beneficial to ordinary people, and Kṛṣṇa understands this.

In karmic terms, this is like a form of karmic begging. A poor materialist approaches a demigod through an irregular channel, begging something from him. The demigods have heaps of pious karma to spend; therefore, it is not difficult for them to give something to this poor beggar out of their own pious stocks. It’s just like a poor person approaching a minister with half a samosa, asking for money to repair the roof of his house. As a bribe attempt, the situation is ridiculous, but the minister may just laugh and give some small money out of his own pocket out of pity.

Kṛṣṇa knows about everything. As He declares in the Gītā, He is the creator of the whole universal machine, with all its systems and subsystems. He knows everything, to the smallest detail. Every possibility that exists in the system has a certain purpose, and exists only because He allows it: “As all surrender unto Me, I reward them accordingly. Everyone follows My path in all respects, O son of Pṛthā.”

The point is that worship of demigods for material rewards results only in very temporary benefits. As one comes to a platform of knowledge, he or she understands that this system is ultimately useless and comes to the worship of Kṛṣṇa, the only one who can give permanent benefits. Even if one worships Kṛṣṇa for material rewards, this is fundamentally different from demigod worship. Kṛṣṇa takes more time to give the desired blessings, because He works first in eliminating the causes of the material desire (by giving one spiritual realization), and finally, when one is ready, He gives the desired blessing in a way that it solves the problem for good. We can see the example of Dhruva Maharaja, for example. He approached Lord Viṣnu desiring to obtain a kingdom greater than his father’s, and Lord Viṣnu gave him something much better than what he desired: the eternal rulership of a Vaikuṇṭha planet (Dhruvaloka), which is never destroyed and serves as the central pivot for the whole universe.

Worship of demigods is thus like a hungry person begging coins from random people to buy his next meal. This just solves the immediate problem; it does nothing to help him escape poverty. Tomorrow he will have to do the same again. Worshipping Kṛṣṇa, on the other hand, is just like approaching a trillionaire. When He gives, He will give enough to solve the problem of material struggle for good.

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 annual orbit of the sun

“Śukadeva Gosvāmī said: My dear King, I have thus far described the diameter of the universe [fifty crores of yojanas, or four billion miles] and its general characteristics, according to the estimations of learned scholars.

As a grain of wheat is divided into two parts and one can estimate the size of the upper part by knowing that of the lower, so, expert geographers instruct, one can understand the measurements of the upper part of the universe by knowing those of the lower part. The sky between the earthly sphere and heavenly sphere is called antarikṣa, or outer space. It adjoins the top of the sphere of earth and the bottom of that of heaven.

In the midst of that region of outer space [antarikṣa] is the most opulent sun, the king of all the planets that emanate heat, such as the moon. By the influence of its radiation, the sun heats the universe and maintains its proper order. It also gives light to help all living entities see. While passing toward the north, toward the south or through the equator, in accordance with the order of the Supreme Personality of Godhead, it is said to move slowly, swiftly or moderately. According to its movements in rising above, going beneath or passing through the equator — and correspondingly coming in touch with various signs of the zodiac, headed by Makara [Capricorn] — days and nights are short, long or equal to one another.” (SB 5.21.1-3)

In the previous chapter, Śukadeva Goswami described Bhū-mandala, which is situated approximately in the vertical middle of the universe. Bhū-mandala forms the earthly sphere, or earthly realm, being composed of all intermediate planets. Below Bhū-mandala, are the seven planetary systems of the asuras, and below these are the hellish planets. Sustaining the whole structure is Lord Ananta, who rests on the Garbhodaka Ocean, maintaining all planets floating in their proper orbits. What we call “gravity” is nothing more than His divine potency.

All of these together form the lower half of the universe. What about the upper half? Śukadeva Gosvāmī compares the universe with a grain of wheat. Just as a grain of wheat is divided into two symmetrical parts, the universe is also divided into two halves. The dimensions of the upper region may be inferred from the lower.

Just as the two parts of a grain of wheat are not directly glued together, but joined by a tiny layer of air, similarly, the universe is divided into a lower hemisphere and an upper hemisphere, joined by outer space, the antarikṣa. This is defined as the space where the sun and planets have their orbits.

When we hear the word “space” we think in terms of the concept of empty space in modern cosmology, but the concept of the antarikṣa is different. First of all, there is no concept of empty space in Vedic cosmology. What seems to be a vacuum is just another material element, ether, which is subtler than the others. Floating on this cosmic ether, the planets move in precise paths, governed not by blind mechanical laws, but by demigods who perform their functions in accordance to the will of the Lord.

The antarikṣa is thus the space where the sun, moon, and the planets of our solar system move, movements that will be explained in the following passages, starting with the movements of the sun.

This space also includes Bhuvarloka, the abode of the lower demigods (upa-devas), such as the Siddhas, Cāraṇas, and Vidyādharas, as well as the Yakṣas and Rākṣasas, the servants of Kuvera. Their abode starts from the upper atmosphere. We can’t see it, because all structures are subtle, but from their perspective, their abodes are formed by lakes, gardens, and so on. In the model of Bhū-mandala, their abode fits the area around Mount Sumeru. In the Mahābhārata, it is described that Bhima invaded this abode searching for the saugandhika lotus flower desired by Draupadī, fighting an army of Rākṣasas on the way.

North, south, or through the equator

We then have the main topic of the three verses previously mentioned, which is the annual orbit of the sun.

It is described that the sun sometimes passes through the north, south or the equator. This refers to the sūrya-mārga, or the ecliptic circle, which is not identical with the celestial equator. This is also studied in regular astronomy.

The Vedic model is a little different, because the earth is not tilted, but the general concept is the same, with the orbit of the sun staying part of the year above the equator, part under it, and with the two lines crossing in two points of the year. You can see how this works in this diagram:

The path of the ecliptic in the Vedic model

The central horizontal line is the equator, which divides our planet in two exact halves. In the model of the Bhāgavatam, this is also the equator of Bhū-mandala.

The upper horizontal line is the Tropic of Cancer, which marks the upper limit of the path of the sun, while the lower horizontal line is the Tropic of Capricorn, which marks the lower limit of its path.

Imagine someone standing exactly at the line of the equator, facing east. In this position, the line of the equator appears as the middle of the sky. However, the sun will rarely pass directly overhead. Half of the year the sun will pass to the left of the sky (north, in the direction of the Tropic of Cancer), and the other half to the right (south, on the side of the Tropic of Capricorn). Only two days per year the sun will pass exactly directly overhead. This north–south shifting of the passage of the sun is caused by the sun’s annual motion along the ecliptic, the path of the sun shown in the picture. That’s what Śukadeva Goswami describes in these verses as the sun traveling through the constellations (rāśis), sometimes to the north and sometimes to the south.

This is how he explains it: As the sun goes through its annual path, it sometimes moves northward (udagayana), sometimes southward (dakṣiṇa-ayana), and sometimes (twice a year), it passes exactly through the middle line (vaiṣuvata). Just as in our example, all these movements of the sun are described from the perspective of someone standing on earth in the line of the equator and facing east.

This is one of the points that make Vedic astronomy attractive: it can be explained in a very simple and practical way, that perfectly matches what we see when we look into the sky. Here, in this book, the explanation may appear complicated, because I’m trying to reconcile it with modern observations to satisfy the scientifically minded among us. However, the Vedic system can also be explained in a simpler way, especially when one can visually see the model working.

The word yathā-savanam in text three is very significant for understanding this passage. The orbit of the sun is conducted according to the order of the Supreme Personality of Godhead. This understanding is the missing element in modern cosmology. The description of the orbit of the sun and the planets, thus, is not just a lesson in cosmology, but ultimately an aid to see the Lord behind all these functions, observing how the universe works in an ordered way, as a universal machine, and understanding that just as each of the demigods has their particular functions, we also have certain functions that we should perform as an offering to the Lord. The description of the universe found in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam helps us to reinforce both our devotional meditation and our concept of performing our prescribed duties.

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.

In the fifth chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Kṛṣṇa gives us a strong verse:

ye hi saṁsparśa-jā bhogā, duḥkha-yonaya eva te
ādy-antavantaḥ kaunteya, na teṣu ramate budhaḥ

“An intelligent person does not take part in the sources of misery, which are due to contact with the material senses. O son of Kuntī, such pleasures have a beginning and an end, and so the wise man does not delight in them.”

The whole chapter five is strong because it deals with the results of obtaining transcendental knowledge, the main topic discussed in chapter four. When a devotee realizes transcendental knowledge, one becomes firmly situated on the platform of devotional service to Kṛṣṇa, and this brings detachment from the sense of ownership and ego that motivates materially driven people. Another effect of this maturity in devotional service is becoming free from the desire for sense gratification. This is the context in which this verse is spoken.

Let’s go deeper into what it means.

The three original characteristics of the soul are sat, cit, and ānanda: eternity, knowledge, and spiritual bliss. These original characteristics are covered by contact with matter. This forces us to look for substitutes, seeking satisfaction in the material senses, looking for immortality in trying to somehow extend the longevity of the body, and so on. These material endeavors, however, ultimately result in misery. A self-realized person has superior knowledge; he understands perfectly that real happiness is found on the spiritual platform and thus avoids material happiness, which obscures it.

In the verse, Kṛṣṇa defines material enjoyment as duḥkha-yonaya. This is a very strong statement. Yoni means “womb” in the sense of source, the place where something is nourished. Duḥkha means “distress” or “suffering.” In material life, we see material happiness as the solution for material suffering, but Kṛṣṇa explains that the material happiness itself is the source of future suffering. It is thus just like taking a loan to pay off another loan. It may bring some momentary relief, but in the long term, the debt only increases. Similarly, in the process of searching for material happiness, we accumulate so many attachments and karmic reactions that will bring even more suffering later.

Imagine, for example, a young man desiring to get married, with the idea of finding happiness. To attract a good wife, he has to accumulate many resources, like a house, a car, money, etc., forcing him to work hard. When he eventually finds his bride, he has to arrange the marriage and all other functions, which also demand work. The relationship, of course, establishes attachment that gradually grows, as they get their children, circle of friends, grow in social position, etc. All of these come together with certain expectations that will not necessarily be fulfilled. We create many plans, but they do not necessarily work.

After all this effort and anxiety, one may feel happy for some time, but gradually things deteriorate. Things may not go well on the financial side, or there may be other problems; the children may not be obedient, there may be divorce, etc. Even if everything works perfectly, suffering will come later in life, as old age, disease, and eventually death set in. Apart from that, he has to work very hard to maintain his family, and not all these activities may be perfectly honest and religious. This also brings inevitable karmic reactions that he will have to suffer in his next life. We can thus see that a short period of material happiness can only be achieved with great effort, and even then, it inevitably leads to a long period of acute material suffering.

Analyzing this process, we can easily understand the trap of materialistic life. Material suffering makes us look for material happiness, which forces us to work hard in this world to secure the resources we need for that. This inevitably forces us to accumulate so many karmic reactions. Material happiness in itself comes together with material attachment, and both karma and attachment come back in the form of loss and suffering. This acute suffering led us to seek material happiness again, restarting the cycle.

What is the solution, then? Kṛṣṇa explains that the intelligent, budhaḥ, does not delight in these temporary material pleasures (na teṣu ramate). As already explained, this does not mean he stops all kinds of activities, but he renounces the sense of proprietorship, acting only for Kṛṣṇa. With this, he gives up attachment and instead performs actions out of duty, as an offering to Kṛṣṇa. This, in turn, frees him from karmic reactions. We can see thus that the process of detached work that Kṛṣṇa explains in chapters two, three, four, and five of the Gītā is the real solution for the problem of material suffering, and, at the same time, it brings us to real happiness with Kṛṣṇa in the transcendental platform.

The difficulty is that when we try to follow the spiritual path, the mind and senses push us back. Although there is plenty of sensory enjoyment in spiritual practice, including chanting, dancing, and prasāda, we have to abstain from many gross sensory pleasures that are contradictory to our practice. What is the solution then? Kṛṣṇa gives us the path: some restriction is necessary. On the one hand, as we advance in spiritual life, the knowledge and spiritual realization make us less prone to sense enjoyment, but at the same time, voluntary restriction is also necessary, so our progress is not blocked. These are thus two tracks on the same railway.

Kṛṣṇa thus gives us the path to follow: “Before giving up this present body, if one is able to tolerate the urges of the material senses and check the force of desire and anger, he is well situated and is happy in this world.”

The successful transcendentalist follows this path of sense control, and we should also follow it to attain the same result. This, however, should be taken in the context of the previous instructions. It is not about abandoning our duties or mere repression. To tolerate the urges of the senses means to patiently follow the whole spiritual process He describes, under the guidance of the bona fide spiritual master.

Kṛṣṇa then continues to describe the results of transcendental knowledge: “One whose happiness is within, who is active and rejoices within, and whose aim is inward is actually the perfect mystic. He is liberated in the Supreme, and ultimately he attains the Supreme.”

A self-realized devotee enjoys, but his happiness is not due to contact with the sense objects. It comes from within. Even if technically living in a material body, he is already liberated and, in due time, assumes a spiritual form to serve the Lord in the spiritual world.

In general, a materialist depends on many external objects to be happy. One depends on his house, his car, his family, friends, hobbies, pets, etc. If he or she is separated from these at some point, one cannot feel happy. We can see that when people organize vacations, they have to bring many people and objects with them: their spouses and children, personal objects, close friends, often even their pets. Without these, one cannot enjoy the vacation. Their happiness is thus very unstable, because it depends on all these external objects. If the spouse decides to divorce, the children become rebellious, the best friend betrays them, or their financial position deteriorates, they immediately feel anxiety.

How is it possible for a self-realized person to feel happy anywhere, regardless of the material situation? The point is that the self-realized bases his happiness on his relationship with Kṛṣṇa. Because this happiness comes from within, the self-realized carry it everywhere, and therefore, their happiness does not depend on anything else. Because he carries Kṛṣṇa inside his heart, all he needs to be happy goes with him, and therefore, he does not need anything else. This stage is called brahma-bhūta, the liberated stage. As mentioned in text 18.54, brahma-bhūta is the platform that precedes devotional perfection.

A self-realized soul can sit anywhere in silence, or he can travel anywhere with just a stick and a water pot, or, conversely, he may live in a palace, surrounded by fully surrendered disciples. In any situation, he is equipoised because, feeling happiness from within, he is not affected by the presence or absence of external material objects of the senses. All of these are simply engaged in Kṛṣṇa’s service. If a materialist receives a mansion, he or she will think about how to live there comfortably, while a pure devotee will think about how to use it for Kṛṣṇa.

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.