Swimming in Rādhā Kuṇḍa

Verse 69

Because the kuṇḍa is endowed with Priyājī’s qualities of dearness it bestows a love equal to Radha’s on one who bathes there even once. 

Śri Ananta dāsā Bābājī

We are natural born lovers. Our deepest and most authentic qualities are realised through the expression of that love. This happens on many levels, in many forms, and towards many different kinds of people.

In the last sentence of his commentary to the final verse of Bhagavad-gītā Śrīla Prabhupad declares that the ‘normal condition’ of every living entity is in the ‘pleasure-giving potency’ of Kṛṣṇa, the divinely loving energy of Rādhā. He means that to love God is our highest aspiration and our most natural state. And yet we all find ourselves so far from that state, so far from being ourselves.

What can it mean to love God?  It does not mean turning our back to our imperfect existence in order to seek God somewhere far away in the desert or high on a mountain top. It must mean to love what is purest in us and what is purest in others. 

To love God does not mean to look elsewhere, but to look in ourselves. To love God does not require us to search for something perfectly loveable beyond us because what we are is somehow not loveable. On the contrary, to love God is to love the divine within us. 

Continue reading

Who is Rādhā?

On Radhastami we commemorate and celebrate the appearance of Rādhā. Who is Rādhā?

One answer to this question starts by asking a different question : Where is Rādhā?

It is simple to say that Rādhā is everywhere. After all, she is the goddess of love and chief consort of Kṛṣṇa. But in her most immediate, real, concrete, and living form she is in us.  

Every tingle of emotion in our body, every quickening of the heart, every impulse to care, every flash of passion, every timid stirring of love is the presence of Rādhā in our hearts, in our souls. Every moment of tenderness felt, every trace of hope, every moment of melancholy, gentle sadness, missing or longing, of wanting love—not to have it, but to give it—this is Rādhā in our souls.

On our spiritual journey, if we want to ask, why do I exist? why am I here? why do I have a soul? Then I am asking about Kṛṣṇa, creator and controller of the universe. If I want to ask: why do I feel the way I feel, then we are asking about Rādhā.

If Kṛṣṇa is all beauty than it is Rādhā who is living beauty. If Kṛṣṇa is all knowledge then Rādhā is the experience of the knowledge If Kṛṣṇa is all bliss, then Rādhā is the giver of bliss. If Kṛṣṇa is love, then Rādhā is loving.

Continue reading

What is suffering?

Verses 9:26-27

If you offer me with love and devotion a leaf, a flower, fruit or water, I will accept it.

Whatever you do, eat, offer or give away, and whatever hardship you suffer—offer it to me.

In Chapter 9 of Bhagavad-gītā, Kṛṣṇa shares with Arjuna ever deeper knowledge about himself and the nature of the universe. Then in verses 26-27 Kṛṣṇa describes how best to please and honour him. 

He says that not only should we offer to Kṛṣṇa the things we cherish in life. We should also offer him what we do in life. We should give not only our possessions but our actions

Among the many things we do in our lives is to suffer through difficult experiences. To suffer is not to feel something painful or difficult for one moment. It is to live in an experience of pain or difficulty. Suffering is an action—of perseverance, patience, resolve, courage, maybe obstinacy.

Continue reading

Love your neighbour as yourself

Parakīya-bhāva is a key idea in the tradition of Gaudyia Vaishnavism. It describes Kṛṣṇa’s loving pastimes with the gopīs (in the Rāsa Līlā) and with Rādhā herself (in the Gaura Līlā).

In Sanskrit, parakīya means belonging to an other, another group, another tribe, or another people. Parakīya-bhāva is most often interpreted narrowly to mean love outside of marriage. In modern Hindi, it has come to signify ‘adultery’.

But a more broad interpretation understands it as love with a foreigner, an outsider, or a stranger. What can this teach us about love itself?

When, in Luke 10, Jesus is asked what we should do to obtain eternal life, he replies, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul’, then adding a saying from the Torah, Leviticus 19, ‘and love your neighbour as yourself.’ 

A wise listener then asks him, ‘Who is my neighbour?’ Jesus famously replies with what is know as the parable of the Good Samaritan

Continue reading

The rasika history of the world

Verse 94

In the West we often understand our world in terms of its history. The typical ingredients are politics, power, money and greed. The typical result is suffering. 

From the point of view of the rasika, one who has the wisdom to relish the loving nectar flowing through the Creation, the history of the world is the history of love. 

In his commentary to Rādhā Rasa Sudhāndhi, Verse 94, Ananda das Bābājī, describes an episode from the Gaura Līlā that he calls ‘The festival of Srī Rādhā’s mercy’. It is the story of love, jealousy, loyalty and betrayal. 

The turns of the story might remind us of Greek tragedy or Shakespearean comedy of errors. But this pastime describe in Verse 94 and its commentary, do not end in sorrow and loss, but in a higher form of feeling. 

Continue reading

I love therefore I am

One of the most well-known philosophical slogans in the West is ‘I think therefore I am’. 

It originates from the French philosopher Descartes, born in 1586. Descartes was trying to answer some of the fundamental questions that face us today: What is real? What is consciousness? What can I know?

Descartes reasoned that there are many things that we are conscious of, but that are not real (white unicorns, castles that float in the air, and so on), but that our mind is capable of doubting the reality of all of them. In fact, he said, everything we are capable of thinking can be put into question except of one: the fact that we are thinking. Thinking, he concluded is the absolute foundation of our being: I think therefore I am

Through the eyes of Bhakti this conclusion makes no sense for at least two reasons.

Continue reading

Material and spiritual surrender


Surrender is understood as a kind of giving, of giving in, or giving up. When we surrender we give something to another, we yield or renounce it. Something that is ours becomes the possession of someone else. Two actors vie for custody or control of something that cannot be shared, something that must be renounced by one, to the advantage of the other. 

Our most immediate experience of surrender is a material one. We voluntarily agree to surrender a material possession to an other who claims a right to it. We recognise this right and surrender the possession. This right might be legal, political, social, moral, or demands it by threat or actual violence to give them. A similar act of surrender sometimes takes place a without our consent. Threatened with violence or other forms of coercion we may surrender our possessions to others against our will.  
Continue reading

We too have always been in love

Rādhā has always been in love with Mohan. There has never been a time when her entire being was not driven by a love for him. There has never been a world in which this love was not burning. There has never been a reality where divine love was not the living force.

Rādhā’s love for Mohan is not just an important event in the history of events. It is reality itself.

It’s not something that exists in the world; it is the world. It’s not something that fills our heart; it is our heart. It’s not a simple pleasure for the satisfaction of God; it is divine pleasure itself.

Rādhā’s love is time itself. Rādhā’s love is space itself. It is always and everywhere. Rādhā’s love is reality, truth, beauty and goodness There is nothing more real. There is nothing more true. There is nothing more beautiful, nothing more good. Rādhā’s love is desire that is everywhere desired. 

Continue reading