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

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

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

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

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

Just as Rahūgaṇa, we are currently immersed in the material tree, thinking that we are men or women, that we are the maintainers of our subordinates, and so on. These instructions from Jaḍa Bharata aim to take us out of this material concept and bring us to a platform of knowledge, from which we can gradually free ourselves from material illusion, and from there attain pure devotional service to the Lord.

“Sometimes, being defeated or plundered by a superior, powerful agent, a living entity loses all his possessions. He then becomes very morose, and lamenting their loss, he sometimes becomes unconscious. Sometimes he imagines a great palatial city in which he desires to live happily with his family members and riches. He thinks himself fully satisfied if this is possible, but such so-called happiness continues only for a moment.” (SB 5.13.7)

In this world, everyone looks for happiness in relationships with friends, family, and society, but this happiness is insufficient to satisfy the needs of the soul, just as a drop of water in the desert. Worse still is that this happiness is temporary, and it depends to a large extent on one’s financial means. Sometimes a person may lose everything to a powerful enemy, government officials, or other unexpected situations. Often this also causes one to lose his or her family and circle of friends. In such situations, with all plans destroyed, one often falls into depression and loses all enthusiasm. This is yet another facet of material existence.

The analogy of the gandharva-pura, or the illusory castle, is also deepened by Prabhupāda in this verse:

In chapter 13, Jaḍa Bharata further instructs King Rahūgaṇa, describing the features of this material world figuratively in his analogy of the material world as the great forest of enjoyment. Originally, this passage is quite cryptic, but the meaning is explained in detail in chapter 14, where the conversation goes back to Śukadeva Goswami and Parīkṣit Maharaja. The King enquires about the direct meaning of this analogy, leading Śukadeva Goswami to explain it more elaborately. The meaning is then further expanded by Śrīla Prabhupāda in his purports. Here, I combine the two chapters, merging the description of the forest from chapter 13 and the explanations of their meaning from chapter 14.

One could question what is the necessity of Jaḍa Bharata coming back to a discussion about the material world after revealing that the ultimate goal is Kṛṣṇa, but the point is that fixing ourselves on the spiritual platform is not so easy. Even after attaining an advanced platform, like Bharata Maharaja, there is still the risk of falling into bad association. As long as we have a naive understanding of this material world, seeing it as a place of enjoyment, we will always remain attracted to it, and thus propense to fall back into bad association. Jaḍa Bharata thus describes different situations we experience at different points of our lives and their outcomes, helping us to develop a more realistic understanding of the struggles of materialistic life. This understanding can help us to disassociate ourselves from it.

“King Rahūgaṇa said: O most exalted personality, you are not different from the Supreme Personality of Godhead. By the influence of your true self, all kinds of contradiction in the śāstras have been removed. In the dress of a friend of a brāhmaṇa, you are hiding your transcendental blissful position. I offer my respectful obeisances unto you.
O best of the brāhmaṇas, my body is filled with dirty things, and my vision has been bitten by the serpent of pride. Due to my material conceptions, I am diseased. Your nectarean instructions are the proper medicine for one suffering from such a fever, and they are cooling waters for one scorched by the heat.” (SB 5.12.1-2)

Rahūgaṇa addresses Jaḍa Bharata with the word avadhūta, accepting him in the highest stage of self-realization, even though he was behaving externally as an unqualified member of a brāhmana family who was neglecting the external rules and regulations. This is contrasted with Rahūgaṇa’s position, which identifies with a material body composed of revolting substances. In his purport, Prabhupāda notes the words kāraṇa-vigrahāya, which indicate that Jaḍa Bharata’s body emanates from the Supreme Person. Of course, everything emanates from the Supreme Person, but in the case of Jaḍa Bharata, this was literal, because in his previous life, as Bharata Maharaja, he was born from Lord Ṛṣabhadeva, who is the Lord Himself.

“Whatever doubts I have about a particular subject matter I shall ask you about later. For the time being, these mysterious yoga instructions you have given me for self-realization appear very difficult to understand. Please repeat them in a simple way so that I can understand them. My mind is very inquisitive, and I want to understand this clearly.” (5.12.3)

Rahūgaṇa couldn’t understand the instructions of Jaḍa Bharata, but he is following the right process, putting forward his questions, so the guru can instruct him.

“The brāhmaṇa Jaḍa Bharata said: My dear King, although you are not at all experienced, you are trying to speak like a very experienced man. Consequently you cannot be considered an experienced person. An experienced person does not speak the way you are speaking about the relationship between a master and a servant or about material pains and pleasures. These are simply external activities. Any advanced, experienced man, considering the Absolute Truth, does not talk in this way.” (SB 5.11.1)

Rahūgaṇa tried to establish three ideas:

a) The reality of material pain and pleasure (they are not false as claimed by Māyāvādis).

b) The importance of the performance of mundane roles, such as father, husband, and king.

c) The value of punishment as a way of compelling people to perform their duties.

These ideas are correct, but only on the practical level of mundane and social behavior. Rahūgaṇa is imitating the vocabulary of great sages, speaking about ātmā (soul), sva-dharma (prescribed duties), etc., but he has no realized knowledge, being still in the bodily platform. In other words, he is out of his depth, trying to speak on topics that are above his understanding. This is similar to when we learn a few complicated Sanskrit words and try to fake erudition by discussing topics we don’t fully understand. Jaḍa Bharata immediately catches that and calls the king akovidaḥ (inexperienced).

As Prabhupāda explains in his purport…

“That most exalted devotee, Mahārāja Bharata, in this way engaged constantly in the devotional service of the Lord. Naturally his love for Vāsudeva, Kṛṣṇa, increased more and more and melted his heart. Consequently he gradually lost all attachment for regulative duties. The hairs of his body stood on end, and all the ecstatic bodily symptoms were manifest. Tears flowed from his eyes, so much so that he could not see anything. Thus he constantly meditated on the reddish lotus feet of the Lord. At that time, his heart, which was like a lake, was filled with the water of ecstatic love. When his mind was immersed in that lake, he even forgot the regulative service to the Lord.” (SB 5.7.12)

This description shows clearly that Bharata Maharaja was very advanced in the platform of devotional service. This is confirmed by Śrīla Prabhupāda in his purport: “When one is actually advanced in ecstatic love for Kṛṣṇa, eight transcendental, blissful symptoms are manifest in the body. Those are the symptoms of perfection arising from loving service to the Supreme Personality of Godhead. Since Mahārāja Bharata was constantly engaged in devotional service, all the symptoms of ecstatic love were manifest in his body.”

At the same time, however, he somehow became attracted to a deer and fell from this platform. This is also mentioned by Prabhupāda in his purport to text 5.8.7: “Mahārāja Bharata was a great king very advanced in devotional service. He had almost reached the point of loving service to the Supreme Lord, but even from that platform he could fall down onto the material platform.” …

Seeing the mind as an untrustworthy person

As a devotee advances in devotional service, one automatically develops the mystical perfections, just as advanced yogīs. However, because a devotee is interested in attaining spiritual perfection, he doesn’t become distracted by the material possibilities offered by mystic powers. Similarly, Ṛṣabhadeva possessed all mystic perfections, but He neglected them, refusing to exercise their powers.

It was already established that Ṛṣabhadeva was completely renounced and free from the grasp of illusory energy. This brings us another question. It is understandable that a neophyte may avoid displaying mystic power in fear that they may distract him from his practice, but what is the need of a paramahaṃsa such as Ṛṣabhadeva to hide His opulences? Certainly, there was no risk for Him in falling back into illusion…

“As I have advised you, My dear sons, you should act accordingly. Be very careful. By these means you will be freed from the ignorance of the desire for fruitive activity, and the knot of bondage in the heart will be completely severed. For further advancement, you should also give up the means. That is, you should not become attached to the process of liberation itself.” (SB 5.5.14)

In the Gītā (18.54), Krsna explains that “One who is thus transcendentally situated at once realizes the Supreme Brahman and becomes fully joyful. He never laments or desires to have anything. He is equally disposed toward every living entity. In that state, he attains pure devotional service unto Me.” This makes it clear that pure devotional service can only be attained when one is free from material contamination. First, we need to shed the material contamination by practicing the regulated process, and from this platform of purity, we can gradually come to a platform of pure devotional service. That’s why the artificial process used by sahajiyās doesn’t work: they try to reach the goal without using the stair that leads to it…

We come then to the central part in this section of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, describing the teachings of Ṛṣabhadeva to His sons:

“Once while touring the world, Lord Ṛṣabhadeva, the Supreme Lord, reached a place known as Brahmāvarta. There was a great conference of learned brāhmaṇas at that place, and all the King’s sons attentively heard the instructions of the brāhmaṇas there. At that assembly, within the hearing of the citizens, Ṛṣabhadeva instructed His sons, although they were already very well-behaved, devoted and qualified. He instructed them so that in the future they could rule the world very perfectly. Thus he spoke as follows.” (SB 5.4.19)

Prabhupāda defines these instructions as a description of bhāgavata-dharma, religious principles in devotional service that transcend religious principles for liberation and the mitigation of material misery. In other words, they transcend ordinary Vedic teachings, bringing the hearer directly to the platform of Krsna Consciousness. That’s the reason they are included in the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam. As Prabhupāda mentions, these instructions of Ṛṣabhadeva were not exactly meant for His sons, because they were already very advanced in knowledge. They were meant to elevate transcendentalists, especially those on the path of jñana, to the platform of devotional service to the Lord...

If the Lord does not need our offerings, why do we endeavor to cook nice dishes and construct opulent temples for Him? This is precisely one of the challenges of devotional service. In material welfare, we work to satisfy the needs of people who have less than us, like the hungry and homeless. This gives us a sense of superiority, seeing ourselves as the providers and maintainers. This is part of the reason we are in this material world: we want to be the maintainers of others, the object of love and gratitude, which are positions that belong to the Lord.

When we come to devotional service, we are confronted with the idea of serving someone who has everything and is not in need of our offerings. The Lord is already served by millions of gopis and goddesses of fortune, and has no need for our offerings. He has already His abode in the spiritual world, full of kalpa-vṛkṣa trees and cintāmaṇi stones, and has no need for a temple made out of bricks. Instead of offering something as a favor, to satisfy one’s need, we offer something to the Lord as a way to try to attract His attention for our own benefit. We have to get rid of our false ego and situate ourselves in a position of humility.

In this spirit, we cook our offerings the best we can, and put all our attention and resources into building a house where we can invite the Lord to reside in the form of the deity. Not because He needs it, but because we are anxious for the opportunity to offer some service to Him. This is how devotional love is expressed.

As Prabhupāda concludes, “If we engage our money in constructing a gorgeous temple, we are freed from the reactions of our endeavors. This is for our benefit. In addition, if we attempt to do something nice for the Supreme Lord, He is pleased with us and gives us His benediction. In conclusion, the gorgeous arrangements are not for the Lord’s sake but for our own. If we somehow or other receive blessings and benedictions from the Lord, our consciousness can be purified and we can become eligible to return home, back to Godhead.”

The soul is eternally connected to the Lord in a bond of love. The key, however, is purification. To relate to the Lord, we need to become purified from material contamination, including the tendency to control. The process for becoming purified of these contaminations is serving the Lord in a humble spirit. In the platform of pure love, everything is possible. Sometimes the Lord becomes dependent on His devotee, and sometimes He is controlled by His devotee, but this is completely different from the contaminated material platform permeated by lust.

Āgnīdhra was a pious king who ruled based on religious principles and treated all citizens like his own sons. His protection was not just based on giving food, shelter, and security; he maintained the principles of varṇāśrama-dharma, training the citizens to live a progressive life, according to the principles of the Vedas, based on service to the Supreme Lord. Prabhupāda contrasts it with modern rulers, who just collect taxes without giving any real benefit to the citizens.

Āgnīdhra, however, was not so serious about self-realization as his father. He was more attracted to the idea of being elevated to Pitṛloka, and for that end he worshiped Lord Brahmā in a valley of Mandara Hill, one of the great mountains of Jambūdvīpa (5.16.11), that was later used by the demigods and demons to churn the ocean of milk.

The reason for his choice of this particular mountain appears to be that it’s a place apsarās regularly visit. It seems that, from the beginning, his idea was that, by the grace of Brahmā, he could meet one of these celestial ladies and beget a perfect son who would perform all religious duties after his departure and thus secure his position in Pitṛloka.

“Since Mahārāja Priyavrata was fully trained in transcendental knowledge, he could have returned home and conducted the business of government as a brahmacārī. Instead, however, when he returned to household life, he accepted a wife also. The principle is that when one becomes a gṛhastha he must live perfectly in that order, which means he must live peacefully with a wife and children. When Caitanya Mahāprabhu’s first wife died, His mother requested Him to marry for a second time. He was twenty years old and was going to take sannyāsa at the age of twenty-four, yet by the request of His mother, He married. “As long as I am in household life,” He told His mother, “I must have a wife, for household life does not mean staying in a house. Real household life means living in a house with a wife.”

Many of the duties of a king can’t be performed by a celibate. A king has to perform many fruitive sacrifices that demand the presence of a wife, and he has to produce descendants that can continue the lineage. Because Priyavrata was so qualified, he didn’t need a wife for inspiration in performing his duties, like most men, but still, without a wife, he would not be properly situated in the āśrama. Vedic culture encourages us to be properly situated in one of the āśramas instead of trying to mix up their functions. By definition, a king is supposed to be a married man, and therefore, when he accepted the post, Priyavrata decided to also accept a wife and beget children...

Uttānapāda was the father of Dhruva Maharaja, who succeeded him on the throne. Dhruva became the head of a great dynasty, which continued up to the Pracetas, who produced a single son through their wife, Marisa: Daksa (in his second birth). Daksa, however, was not interested in becoming a human king. His goal was to regain his original position as the principal Prajāpati. He thus practiced austerities for a very long time, and never ascended to the throne. With this, the lineage of Dhruva Maharaja was broken.

There was, however, one descendant of Svāyambhuva Manu who was alive, and had never ascended to the throne: Priyavrata, his elder son. With the breakage of his brother’s dynasty, the duty of ruling would naturally fall on him...

Vidura heard from Maitreya many descriptions of kings who attained perfection at the end of life. Dhṛtarāṣṭra is also a great personality in a sense, for no common person could be born from the semen of a great sage such as Vyāsadeva and participate in the pastimes of the Lord, even if as an opponent. Vidura knew he had the determination to free himself of material contamination, even though it would be difficult for him to directly surrender to the Lord due to his many offenses. He thus engaged him in the practice of mystic yoga, so he could attain impersonal liberation.

Śukadeva Goswami concludes the narration of the 4th canto, offering a blessing to all sincere readers.

"My dear sons of the King, I am very much pleased by the friendly relationships among you. All of you are engaged in one occupation — devotional service. I am so pleased with your mutual friendship that I wish you all good fortune. Now you may ask a benediction of Me." (SB 4.30.8)