Bhakti Sanga Interview With HG Chaitanya Charan Prabhu Dec 2024

Thank you so much for accepting the invitation for this interview. I feel very fortunate to have met you about 10 days ago in the UAE, where we had a wonderful class with you. I’d love to hear how you were introduced to Krishna Consciousness, Prabhuji, and how your journey has unfolded over the years.

I was introduced to Krishna Consciousness during my college days when I was studying engineering. I would say there were three main factors that led me to embrace Krishna Consciousness: intellectual, social, and relational—more spiritual in nature.

Krishna is the ultimate master in our lives, and I like to summarize it with the acronym SIR. The “S” stands for social. From childhood, I had a deep interest in the power of education to transform people. While in college, I was involved in a social welfare organization, where I volunteered to teach uneducated and poorly educated children in slums, offering free tuition in various subjects.

While doing this, I observed that many of the children came from dysfunctional families, with issues such as domestic violence and alcoholism. It made me wonder how much teaching subjects like history, math, or English would truly help them in the long term. To address this, we brought in anti-alcohol campaigners to speak to the families. We managed to encourage the fathers, who were mostly alcoholics, to give up drinking, and we considered it a great success.

However, when I returned after my semester break, I found that not only had the fathers relapsed, but their children had also started drinking. The local elections had taken place in the interim, and one of the candidates had brought in truckloads of free liquor to woo voters. That made me realize that even though we were trying to help by providing education or employment, everyone has these inner “trap doors” — self-destructive habits — and opening external doors without the ability to close those inner traps wouldn’t bring lasting change.

I saw that this wasn’t just a problem in underprivileged slum areas, but it was prevalent everywhere, even in my college. Many intelligent students were sabotaging their potential through unhealthy habits. A close friend of mine was struggling with alcoholism and couldn’t seem to give it up. I also had anger issues. That’s when I came across Bhagavad Gita, and verse 3.36 really stood out to me: What is it that impels us to self-destructive actions? This became a crucial question for me, and I started studying the Gita to understand the answer.

I applied its teachings in my life, invited speakers to my hostel to discuss the Gita, and noticed significant improvements. My anger issues subsided, my friend overcame alcoholism, and I realized that this knowledge was of real value.

After completing my engineering degree, I started working at a software company in India while also teaching Bhagavad Gita at various colleges in small study groups during the evenings. One evening, I had a study group meeting scheduled, but my boss told me I had to stay late to meet a project deadline. I explained I’d come back early the next morning, but he insisted I stay. I tried to arrange for someone else to lead the group, but no one was available, so we had to cancel the session.

That night, as I walked back to my place around midnight, it struck me that if I didn’t write the software programs, there were thousands of others who could do it—many of them probably even better than I could. But if I didn’t teach the Bhagavad Gita, how many others were there who could do that? I realized I could contribute much more to society by studying and sharing the Gita’s wisdom than by writing software programs.

This was the social aspect of why I chose to pursue Krishna Consciousness. It’s one of the main reasons my focus has always been on teaching. I never ventured into management or other areas. I was deeply moved by the power of education. If we equip people with knowledge, we give them the resources to choose to improve their lives, if they so desire.

The second factor was intellectual. I always strived to be the number one in my class, and while I was consistently among the top students, I never made it to the top of the entire university or across all divisions. This created a nagging sense of disappointment in me.

However, I had an aptitude for language from childhood, which led me to excel in English. While many Indian students typically do well in mathematics and analytical subjects but struggle with English, I did exceptionally well in it. Not only did I top my college, but I also became the top scorer in the entire Pune University, making history as the first student to do so at that time.

I was delighted when I first became aware of my achievement, but soon I realized that simply looking at the marks didn’t bring much happiness. It was when others congratulated me that I felt a sense of fulfillment. Yes, I became somewhat of a celebrity in my college, but then something strange happened: one after another, three of my friends forgot to congratulate me. They weren’t extremely close friends, but they were reasonable friends. They probably thought, “Everyone knows it. Everyone has congratulated him, so why do we need to?”

When the first friend forgot, I was annoyed. When the second friend forgot, I was irritated. By the third friend, I was enraged. I didn’t want to sound pathetic, but I found myself wondering why they hadn’t congratulated me. Suddenly, I felt as though I was observing myself from above. It dawned on me that I had thought becoming a topper would make me happy, but instead, it had made me more dependent on others for my happiness. I had gone from being content hanging out with my friends to becoming needy when I was with them.

I started reflecting on my life. I thought about my future achievements: perhaps I could get into an Ivy League university, publish papers in Nature or Science, or become a best-selling author. I had always dreamed of intellectual success, and I thought these things might bring me happiness. But I realized that even if I achieved all of that, I would still be dependent on others for my happiness. This realization led me back to the Bhagavad Gita, particularly verse 6.22, where Krishna speaks about the stage of samadhi. He describes a state of such inner enrichment that we no longer crave for anything more, nor do we lament when something bad happens.

When I read that, I realized that this is the real achievement in life. No external achievement—whether academic, professional, or material—can free us from craving or lamenting. Only this inner state of contentment can bring true fulfillment. I decided that this was what I should aspire for, and that’s what I’m still striving for.

From an intellectual perspective, I had always wanted to be at the top of my class. While I was often among the top, I was never the number one across the entire university or in all divisions. That created a nagging sense of disappointment in me. However, I had a natural aptitude for languages, and I excelled in English, which many Indian students typically struggle with. I didn’t just top my college; I became the top scorer in Pune University, making history as the first student to achieve that distinction.

From a relational perspective, my father always had a traveling job, and it was my mother who took care of me. When I was in 10th grade, just after my exams, my mother was diagnosed with terminal blood cancer and passed away within a month. This was a traumatic experience that left me feeling emotionally numb. I started questioning the purpose of relationships—what is the point of having them if they can be so fleeting?

During that time, I had read about Christian saints and some Indian swamis, and I decided then that I would never get married. I wanted to focus on my education and outreach. However, when I read the Bhagavad Gita, especially verses 10.8 and 10.9, I realized that relationships are not just about understanding with the head, but also directing our emotions toward Krishna. I understood that my own emotional withdrawal, my shutting down from relationships, was meant to be directed toward Krishna and those who are connected with Him.

That realization led me naturally to pursue Krishna Consciousness not only as a spiritual practice but also in the form of monastic life, aiming to stay within the community of devotees and direct my love toward Krishna.

Thank you for sharing such an inspiring journey, Prabhuji.

You mentioned how we often have this false ego, where we desire appreciation from others. I resonate with this, as I, too, sometimes feel the need for others’ validation. It was a valuable realization when you said that we often look to others for our happiness, and not in what we achieve ourselves. It made me realize that this could indeed be a form of false ego.

However, as you pointed out, it’s hard to categorize it as purely false ego. As humans, we have a basic need for appreciation. The difference, as you mentioned, is that false ego is about seeking glorification—public acknowledgment of our achievements—while the need for appreciation is more about receiving feedback within close relationships. For instance, after conducting this interview, I might want to know how well I asked the questions, and if you acknowledge that, it’s not about boosting my ego but about knowing whether I served the purpose well.

So, seeking appreciation is a natural human need, while glorification is driven by the ego. I now understand this distinction clearly. Thank you for helping me see the difference.

Now, about your question on how to maintain consistency in sadhana despite a busy schedule:

I often have multiple commitments every day, balancing various forums and activities. With constant travel, late-night flights, and irregular schedules, I realized that two things are crucial: we must take responsibility for our spiritual well-being, but at the same time, we cannot neglect our physical health.

There’s a letter from Srila Prabhupada where he says that if we don’t take care of our health now, even if we have the enthusiasm to serve Krishna, we won’t be able to. So, I’ve learned that we need to find a balance. When we start moving towards satvaguna, even a little, we understand the difference between what our body needs and what it craves. We need to rest when we need rest, but not sleep because we are lazy. We need to eat when we are hungry, but not give in to cravings.

It’s not always easy, but I try to avoid fighting against my body. I work with my body, understanding its needs. I make sure to get enough rest and then focus on my sadhana. I don’t follow strict rules for my schedule, but instead focus on what’s the responsible thing to do at a particular time. Sometimes, that means resting more; other times, it means pushing through to get something done. The key is to be mindful of my inner strength—whether I get irritated or upset if something goes wrong—and adjust accordingly.

It’s like a meter to gauge my spiritual strength. If I start getting too annoyed or too irritated, that’s an indication that my spiritual strength is low. Life is full of dualities, and if my reaction to these dualities is escalating, then it’s time to prioritize. For me, it’s not just about chanting; it’s more about immersing myself in scripture and spiritual wisdom. That’s what gives me strength.

If I find that I’m not being affected by the dualities too much, then I take some time off. I might disconnect from the phone, social media, and responding to messages. I can’t cancel speaking engagements, but I try to cut down on meetings. I carve out a period to immerse myself in shastra. Of course, I maintain my daily sadhana with chanting, scripture study, and writing. I also need time to contemplate the shastra and reflect on what I’ve taught in my classes.

Having some time to immerse myself in what gives me strength is essential. Once I take responsibility for myself, I ensure that I am doing what nourishes me spiritually. This helps me sustain myself in the long term.

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Very beautifully explained, Prabhuji. What I understand from this is that we need to know how to sustain ourselves in bhakti. While our daily sadhana is important, we must also keep engaging in bhakti in ways that are sustainable for us.

In serious bhakti, there are two aspects: intensity and sustainability. Sometimes, in the name of intensity, we might do things that aren’t sustainable, and at other times, in the name of sustainability, we might lose intensity. Finding a balance between the two is not easy, but I think it’s something each of us needs to discover for ourselves.

For me, sustainability in chanting is an issue. I find it sustainable, but the intensity seems to be lacking. As you said, both sustainability and intensity should be there, Prabhuji. Thank you for helping me understand this better.

Prabhuji, according to your view, what is the most important quality a devotee should develop in themselves?

I think curiosity is a vital quality for a devotee. While endurance to hear is certainly important, I feel that curiosity plays a big role. A lot of problems within our devotee community and outside arise because of judgmentality. We often categorize things as “wrong,” “deviation,” or label people as “Mayavadis” or other such terms. But our philosophy teaches us to give up all labels, yet we still create labels for everything we don’t agree with.

The opposite of judgmentality is curiosity. Instead of labeling someone’s actions as wrong, we should ask, “What makes you think this is the right approach?” Everyone has a reason for what they do, even if it’s not very reasonable. Curiosity is an essential part of Brahma Jijnasa—the desire to understand the truth. It’s not just about realizing “I’m not the body; I am the soul” at the start of our spiritual journey. Curiosity should remain with us throughout our lives.

I have traveled across the world, and because of my outreach work, I meet not only the successful devotees but also those who have been alienated from the community due to harsh words or judgments. I believe very few people are inherently bad-hearted; most people don’t want to drive others away from Krishna. But judgmentality pushes people away.

In the devotee community, there’s often a tendency to categorize devotees as either “serious” or “insincere” based on whether they fit into a specific box. But Prabhupada accepted and appreciated both full-time devotees who traveled the world at his command and life members who served in various ways, even if they didn’t chant 16 rounds or get initiated.

So, I think curiosity is vital for devotees. Curiosity prevents judgmentality and the presumption of certainty that “this is right and everything else is wrong.” This kind of certainty can lead to fanaticism. Curiosity, on the other hand, is open-minded and humble.

Curiosity is not about devaluing what we know, but about valuing what we don’t know. It’s an intellectual humility, where we recognize that what we don’t know might be more important than what we do know. In this way, curiosity is non-different from humility. We may show physical humility by offering obeisances, but sometimes, we might still harbor a dehumanizing or dismissive attitude toward others.

If I know something about a person—say, they did something I don’t like—I should ask myself, “What don’t I know about this person?” If I have curiosity, it will prevent relationships from breaking down. This quality allows us to open our hearts to others and allows others to open their hearts to us. Without curiosity, we close ourselves off from others, leading to loneliness, especially for leaders. Leaders, who must set an example, often feel they can’t share their concerns or struggles with anyone, as it might reflect poorly on them.

So, curiosity helps us to avoid labels, to open our hearts, and to prevent relationship burnout in our spiritual lives.

I used to think, “You’re such an advanced devotee; how can you have worries?” But when there’s no curiosity, judgmentality takes over. Everyone starts acting based only on what other devotees might think about them. Instead of addressing our concerns, we worry about them, and that only leads to bigger problems down the line. A wound that is denied only doubles, and it becomes a much bigger issue in the long run.

Prabhuji, you mentioned that we tend to bury our concerns. Does that mean we’re not opening up to other devotees?

Yes, exactly. We feel others will judge us, and because of that, we don’t share our concerns. But this is what happens when we bottle things up. When we do speak to others, we think, “Devotees are merciful,” but often we don’t open up because we fear judgment. That’s why we need to develop curiosity as a general principle among devotees, though this takes time. On a more personal level, we can try to find like-minded devotees.

If you’re going through a situation, it helps to talk to someone in a similar situation. For example, if someone has lost their job and is feeling anxious, someone with financial security might just say, “Depend on Krishna,” or “This will pass.” While that’s true, it doesn’t always offer a practical solution. We need like-minded devotees who can give us both philosophical and practical advice. If someone only gives philosophical advice without any practical steps, it might not be as satisfying.

We need to take responsibility for finding like-minded devotees so that we can open our hearts and share with them.

Thank you, Prabhuji, that was very helpful. How were you introduced to Bhakti Sanga?

I think it was probably Shama Gauri Mataji who told me about the classes happening at Bhakti Sanga. It was after I started traveling abroad, in 2014, when I came across the online programs. I was amazed by the number of devotees who joined. I didn’t realize the scale of what was happening before that. I think I may have given one class before, but I don’t really remember. However, when I came abroad, I saw the full picture, and that was the first significant memory of Bhakti Sanga. Since then, I’ve been trying to serve in whatever way I can.

We should also thank Shama Gauri Mataji for bringing you here! We’ve been enjoying your deep perspectives in every class you give, both in Bhakti Sanga and in other places. Thank you for offering such valuable insights.

In the context of Krishna consciousness, if there’s one project you think would be beneficial, what would it be?

I believe that sharing shastric insights with the world is something we could do more of. Right now, philosophy is largely seen as a tool for converting people into bhakti, which is good. We study philosophy so we can inspire others and attract them to Krishna consciousness. However, philosophy can also help us make better sense of our own lives and the world around us. Even those who may not become devotees can benefit from the wisdom of shastra in a practical way.

I think we have insiders—teachers and students within our movement—and we also have outsiders. While insider-to-insider teachings (like Bhakti Sanga, Bhakti Shastri, or Bhakti Vaibhava) are important, there’s also the outsider-to-outsider connection we need to focus on.

For example, when we conduct Sunday programs or outreach events, those are insider-to-outsider engagements. But we’ve largely neglected the outsider-to-outsider connection, which is crucial for building our reputation. If someone doesn’t become a devotee, we might neglect them, but they can still be a well-wisher. Outsiders who are in positions of influence can help spread positive awareness about us.

Prabhupada also interacted with many prominent non-devotees. He spoke to people like Arnold Toynbee, not with the expectation that they would become devotees, but to build a meaningful relationship. If we can strengthen connections between insider teachers and outsider influencers, we can create a positive multiplier effect, spreading the wisdom of scripture even to those who may never join our movement.

Many other religions, like Islam and Buddhism, have done well in reaching out to influential outsiders. When there are extremist attacks, for instance, the first response is not to condemn the religion but to distance themselves from the extremists and prevent Islamophobia. Similarly, Buddhism is often seen as a peaceful, “cool” religion.

I think we, as a movement, should focus on engaging with outsiders in a way that doesn’t push them to convert, but allows them to be appreciative of the wisdom we offer. Our programs like Food for Life and Midday Meals are doing great humanitarian work, but I think we need more intellectual and philosophical outreach as well.

This is something that I feel is lacking, and I would love to contribute to it in any way I can.

As you said, yes, we try to make outsiders become insiders, but this perspective is really very nice. That is, um, that will be helpful also, as you said. And even in the case of, as you mentioned, one example is George Harrison. He was also not initiated, and my father just had and did become a follower. But then, he did being a follower so that people would not think that he had joined a cult. So, he was like, he used to chant, but never became initiated. So, I would say that, yeah, he was an outsider. Well, I think it was a little harsh to consider him an outsider, especially considering the amount of service that he did. So, even the categories of insider and outsider are not watertight.

You know, sometimes Ravindra Swarup was telling me that when they were doing outreach, at that time, becoming a devotee, when they were preaching, meant joining the temple and moving into the temple. That was the idea. He said that when he was president in Philadelphia, there were many Indians who started coming. They were coming every week, and when they were coming, we were really excited. We would preach to them and connect with them. But soon, they realized that these people were not going to enter the temple. The Indians had come to America for professional success and financial growth. Then he said, “These are not going to become devotees.” So, we would pay no attention to them, but they would still keep coming.

So, the situation was such that if any person on the streets had asked these people who were coming to our temples, “Which religious group do you belong to?” they would have said, “We are Hare Krishnas.” But if those same people had asked us, “Are these people Hare Krishnas?” we would have said, “No, they are not Hare Krishnas.” Because, just after some years, especially in the late 1980s, we started realizing that these people were actually committed. But their commitment was different—they were never going to become insiders in the sense of becoming residents of the temple. But that doesn’t mean they weren’t serious.

So, in that sense, sometimes the insider-outsider category is also subjective. So, I would hesitate to consider George Harrison an outsider. He called himself, uh, what were the words he used in the chant, “Hare Krishna and be happy.” We have a shorter version of that interview in the book, but there’s an unabridged interview in the VedaBase. There, I think he uses the words, “I am a plain clothes devotee,” something like that. “A plain clothes devotee” means he didn’t wear devotional attire, but he said, “I’m like… There’s another word, a closet devotee.” A closet devotee means you don’t show in public that you are a devotee. But he was very much devotionally inclined. So, if Prabhupada didn’t force him to become an insider, that is true.

So, in that sense, you could say he was not exactly an insider according to the conventional definitions of what an insider was expected to be in those times. But calling him an outsider is a bit too dismissive of the service he did. Thank you, thank you, Prabhuji.

You have been in Bhakti Sangha since around 2014, and it’s been 10 years now. You’ve seen how Bhakti Sangha is functioning. So, what do you think? Do you have any suggestions for us to improve Bhakti Sangha?

What you are doing is remarkable, and I feel that it has led to many others also being inspired and trying to do something similar at various levels. I saw that apart from the morning class, you also have other classes and multiple speakers. It’s become like a university in itself, with multiple departments and avenues of connecting with Shastra and encouraging others to connect with Shastra.

So, it’s a remarkable initiative. My only suggestion would be to spread the word around and inspire others. Not everybody may be able to join. I think you also have two or three different forums where people can join at different timings. But if people cannot join here, encourage them to create similar systems. Nowadays, there’s a lot of phenomenal outreach happening in the vernacular languages in India. I know some devotees who do regular classes in Telugu or Tamil, and they get several hundred devotees in the mornings. Some of these classes are centered around a particular person, while others are not.

I think the model you are using is excellent. Just try to expand or replicate it, perhaps in different languages for different people. Best wishes to all of you who are involved in sustaining this day after day, week after week, year after year.

The name, Bhakti Sangha, is also very nice, because we all need sangha in bhakti. I think many people took it up during the pandemic because there was no alternative. That was nice in one sense. You know, I had asked my spiritual master, Adhanatma Maharaj, that when the child is in the womb, and the child prays to Krishna, “I don’t want to come out of this womb because outside there is pleasure, but I hear there’s pain and realization; there is pain.” So, I am prayerful and devoted to you; I don’t want to come out here. But still, the child comes out. Is it that Krishna does not listen to the prayer?

Maharaj said, “No, Krishna always listens to our prayers, but Krishna does not want devotion under compulsion. If there was no alternative, that’s why you wanted to practice bhakti. Okay, it’s good that you practice bhakti then, but do you keep practicing bhakti even when those circumstances are not there?”

So, when the child is sent out of the womb, that is not Krishna rejecting the prayer of the child, but Krishna is, in one sense, testing the seriousness of the child’s devotion. Similarly, when there was no alternative, going online was something that everyone did, but you had started this long before that and continued long after that. So, it is devotion not out of compulsion but devotion out of innovation. It is devotion out of creativity—to create a forum for devotees to connect regularly.

Kudos to you! Continue it on. Thank you.

Thank you so much for your wonderful words for Bhakti Sangha. Yes, we are also trying to make it more accessible to all devotees all over the world. With your prayers and blessings, hopefully, we will make it even more accessible to all the devotees.

Thank you so much. So, with this, I think we can end the interview. We are very grateful to you for giving us your time and association once again for this interview. With your permission, we can end the interview with Vashma Pranams.

Thank you.