Krishna Charitra Series by HG Chaitanya Charan Prabhuji – Part 1 – Lord Krishna in Vrindavan

Everybody, in their own way, recognizes the unique bond a parent has with their child at any given moment. Yet, at times, no one truly understands the depth of what is unfolding. In the story of Krishna, Yashoda’s journey as a mother begins with an extraordinary event—Krishna being placed in her care. From the first moment she sees him, his divine qualities are evident. Descriptions of Krishna often highlight his large, expressive eyes and his radiant presence, traits that made him both enchanting and unique.

As a mother, Yashoda’s primary focus is to protect and nurture Krishna. However, Krishna’s mischievous nature and the constant dangers surrounding him amplify her maternal anxiety. It seems as though Krishna attracts danger, and danger, in turn, seeks him out. This duality becomes a source of perpetual worry for Yashoda, whose primary emotion is maternal love, interwoven with anxiety—an inevitable part of being a mother.

From Krishna’s early years, Yashoda struggles to ensure his safety. Even when she leaves him in the perceived safety of their home, unexpected events occur. For example, someone might appear to be a kind and gentle woman, but her intentions could bring harm. Such instances make Yashoda hyper-vigilant, constantly on edge and protective of Krishna. She begins to realize that Krishna’s extraordinary nature brings both wonder and peril.

Yashoda’s anxiety peaks in moments when Krishna faces direct danger. One such event involves a storm that separates Krishna from her. In the chaos, she frantically searches for him, only to be told by other gopis that Krishna is in the sky—being carried by a demon. For Krishna, it might be a joyful adventure, but for Yashoda, it’s a moment of utter devastation and fear.

The villagers of Vrindavan, or the Vrajvasis, also share Yashoda’s confusion and concern. They live simple lives, abiding by their duties and causing no trouble. Yet, they find themselves facing inexplicable threats. From the Vrajvasis’ perspective, these dangers are incomprehensible, adding to their collective anxiety.

Krishna’s life is often divided into three phases, each marked by unique relationships and experiences. The first five years, known as the “Kaumara” stage, are particularly significant for parental bonding. During this phase, Krishna is the center of his parents’ universe, and vice versa. The next phase, from six to ten years, is the “Pauganda” stage, where Krishna begins forming friendships and exploring the world outside. This period brings new adventures and challenges, as the demons that once entered the village now wait outside, creating constant unease for Yashoda.

Yashoda’s love for Krishna is so profound that even small incidents become sources of immense worry. For instance, she might place Krishna under a cart for safety, only to find danger lurking even there. Krishna’s mischievous nature often leads to unexpected situations, such as dragging a mortar and causing a giant tree to fall. For any mother, such incidents would be terrifying. Yet, Yashoda’s love remains unwavering, and her devotion only deepens with each challenge.

One of the most tumultuous moments for Yashoda is the Damodara Leela, where she ties Krishna to a mortar to discipline him. Despite her efforts to keep him safe, Krishna uses the situation to demonstrate his divine power, uprooting trees and creating a scene that leaves everyone in awe and bewilderment. For Yashoda, this incident is not just a display of Krishna’s divinity but also a reminder of her constant struggle to balance her love, worry, and the extraordinary nature of her child.

Through all these challenges, Yashoda’s immersion in Krishna’s life becomes complete. Her thoughts, actions, and emotions revolve entirely around him. This maternal devotion, filled with love and anxiety, illustrates the depth of her bond with Krishna. Even in moments of mischief, such as Krishna denying he stole butter while his face is covered in it, Yashoda sees the sweetness and innocence that define her child.

No, sometimes someone is a liar, but they are such a poor liar that their lying becomes sweet. When we love someone, we tend to love everything about them—even their flaws. So, when Krishna lies, it endears him to Mother Yashoda. Yet, at the same time, she feels concerned.

Acharyas like Ananda describe why Mother Yashoda decides to tie Krishna up at a particular time. Krishna’s butter-stealing can be seen in two distinct phases. Initially, Krishna steals butter at home. While this mischief is manageable and even amusing to Yashoda, it doesn’t cause her much anxiety. However, Krishna soon begins venturing outside the home, stealing butter from the homes of others in Vrindavan. This shift makes Yashoda increasingly worried.

Her concern is both practical and emotional. Vrindavan is a small place, and Yashoda imagines Krishna’s future. He will grow up, and one day he will need to get married. She worries, If Krishna gets a reputation as a thief, who will agree to marry their daughter to him? Yashoda often wonders, If Krishna wants butter, why does he have to steal it? I can give him all the butter he desires!

This anxiety stems from her motherly love, while Krishna’s actions remain incomprehensible to her. Krishna’s butter-stealing seems playful to him, but to Yashoda, it’s both baffling and worrisome. There is an interesting parallel between ignorance and transcendence: Bharata describes that people completely absorbed in Krishna are blissful, just as those completely absorbed in Maya are blissful. It’s those in between who struggle. For example, a person deeply intoxicated might be unaware of their drunkenness and feel happy—until the hangover comes. Similarly, Krishna’s butter-stealing may seem incomprehensible to those who know only a little about him.

When European colonialists first came to India and saw murals and paintings of a small child stealing butter, they were confused. Who is this? they asked. This is God, came the response. The Europeans, accustomed to envisioning God as a wise old man with a long beard—an all-powerful figure casting judgment—found the idea of God as a mischievous, crawling child theologically incomprehensible and even blasphemous. How can God crawl on the ground? How can God steal? And why would God steal butter?

But Krishna’s butter-stealing is deeply symbolic. The butter represents the labor of love of the gopis. They churn milk with care and dedication, pouring their hearts into the process. When Krishna steals butter, he isn’t just taking food—he is taking the love they have poured into it. By doing so, Krishna draws closer to their hearts, deepening his sweet, loving relationship with them.

While Krishna’s playful mischief brings joy, Mother Yashoda knows that even love has its limits. As a parent, she must draw a line. She tells Krishna, You cannot steal—especially not from others’ homes! Her motherly discipline reflects her deep care for Krishna. In one of the most tender moments of their relationship, she ties Krishna to a mortar to teach him a lesson.

In ordinary circumstances, when we approach a court or a higher authority, we vow to tell the truth: I swear to speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. However, in this case, Mother Yashoda is the only person who can boldly say to God himself, Speak the truth!

This is the exalted nature of Mother Yashoda’s love for Krishna. Because of her vatsalya rasa (maternal affection), her relationship with Krishna is filled with dual anxieties: first, the anxiety to protect Krishna from external dangers, and second, the anxiety to protect Krishna from himself.

When the sages tell her that Krishna is God, she dismisses it, saying, How can he be God? He can’t even control his senses! When he’s hungry, he steals butter. He’s not God; he’s just a sweet, mischievous child. Even when Krishna reveals his universal form to her, she momentarily sees it but immediately returns to seeing Krishna as her little child. For her, Krishna is not the Supreme Lord—he is simply her beloved son. And Krishna, too, hides his divine nature, allowing her to remain absorbed in her maternal love.

Mother Yashoda’s love is unique because it is rooted in complete absorption in Krishna as her child. Her vatsalya bhava is her service to Krishna, expressed through her constant concern for his well-being. She is anxious to protect him, whether it is from external dangers or from his own mischievous tendencies.

Srila Prabhupada once illustrated this with the example of his efforts to protect Krishna’s temples, especially during the struggles of the Juhu project. Just as Mother Yashoda protects Krishna in her home, devotees protect Krishna through their service. Prabhupada taught that this anxiety for Krishna’s service—whether it is in protecting his temple, his cows, or his devotees—is a central part of devotional life. He often said that when we serve Krishna with deep love, we may also feel anxiety, but this anxiety is transcendental because it keeps us absorbed in Krishna.

Mother Yashoda’s vatsalya rasa is characterized by her constant care and her worry for Krishna. She is always trying to shield him from harm while also correcting his mischievous actions. This flavor of maternal love is at the heart of her relationship with Krishna.

In the verse:

Uvāca Satyam Padahe Murāre
Govinda Nāmo Dharamādhavetī
Yadho Tadakto Navanītapindu
Niheya Shodhā Vijitip Sayanti

This describes Yashoda’s concern for Krishna and her deep immersion in caring for him.

Every morning, the gopas (cowherd boys) gather to call Krishna to join them in taking the cows to the forest for grazing. Despite being simple cowherds, they show immense responsibility in protecting the cows, embodying go raksha dharma (the duty of cow protection). The gopas may not be soldiers or warriors with weapons, but they carry their sticks and a strong sense of duty as they head to Krishna’s home, calling out:

Ānandamāritya!
(O Krishna, the embodiment of endless bliss!)

They lovingly urge him, Wake up, Krishna! It’s time to go! This sense of urgency and care reflects their affection and their unique bond with Krishna.

The verse’s repetition of “Ākāre” emphasizes immediacy. Here, Ākāre āsura doesn’t refer to demons but to the call of the gopas for Krishna to join them quickly. This playful interaction between Krishna and the gopas, along with the underlying responsibility for go raksha (cow protection), highlights the idyllic, loving, and devotional life of the Vrajavasis.

Mother Yashoda’s love, coupled with her anxiety for Krishna’s safety and her unwavering absorption in him, defines her exalted position in vatsalya rasa. Her concern for Krishna’s well-being, whether it is protecting him from danger or guiding him through his mischievous antics, is a testament to the deep love that transcends ordinary relationships and reflects the purest form of devotion.

So Krishna comes immediately, eager to join the gopas. It’s time to go out, to play, to protect, and to carry out their responsibilities. For the gopas, work is play, and play is work. This is the ultimate example of how deeply intertwined their daily duties and joy are in Krishna’s service. They are filled with eagerness and devotion as they stand outside Krishna’s home, calling to him:

Govinda! Ānandamāritya! (O Krishna, the embodiment of bliss!)
Ākāre āsura! (Come quickly!)

The gopas joyfully chant together, invoking Krishna with affection and excitement. They call him Govinda-Dāmodara-Mādhava, repeating his divine names with love. These names not only reflect Krishna’s pastimes but also their deep bond with him.

The chanting continues:
Govinda-Dāmodara-Mādhava!
Govinda-Dāmodara-Mādhava!

This repetition mirrors their devotion and enthusiasm as they invite Krishna to join them in their day’s adventure—taking the cows to graze and protecting them as part of their go-raksha dharma. Even though the gopas are simple cowherds without weapons, their sticks and sense of duty symbolize their readiness to serve and protect Krishna and the cows.

Their affection for Krishna, expressed through these sweet calls, reflects the loving life of Vrindavan, where every action is centered on Krishna and filled with devotion.

Everybody, in their own way, recognizes the unique bond a parent has with their child at any given moment. Yet, at times, no one truly understands the profound depth of what is unfolding in that relationship. This bond is especially poignant in the story of Krishna, where Yashoda’s journey as a mother begins with an extraordinary event—Krishna being placed in her care under miraculous circumstances. From the very first moment she sets her eyes on him, his divine qualities are evident and unmistakable. Descriptions of Krishna often highlight his large, expressive eyes, his radiant presence, and his enchanting demeanor, traits that set him apart and make him irresistibly unique.

Yashoda’s Maternal Journey

As a mother, Yashoda’s life revolves around protecting and nurturing Krishna. However, Krishna’s mischievous nature, coupled with the constant dangers that seem to follow him, amplifies her maternal anxiety. It feels as though Krishna’s divinity attracts peril as much as it does admiration. This duality becomes a continuous source of both joy and worry for Yashoda, whose maternal love is interwoven with anxiety—an inevitable aspect of her journey as Krishna’s mother.

From the earliest years of Krishna’s life, Yashoda struggles to ensure his safety. Even when she believes she has left him in the secure environment of their home, unexpected and mysterious events unfold. For example, a stranger might appear as a kind and gentle woman, but her intentions could be harmful. These incidents sharpen Yashoda’s maternal instincts, making her hyper-vigilant and deeply protective of Krishna. She begins to understand that Krishna’s extraordinary nature, while awe-inspiring, brings both wonder and peril in equal measure.

The Challenges of Protecting Krishna

Yashoda’s maternal anxiety reaches its peak during moments of direct danger to Krishna. One such event involves a violent storm that separates Krishna from her, plunging her into a state of frantic despair. Amid the chaos, she searches for him with unyielding determination, only to hear from the other gopis that Krishna is in the sky—being carried away by a demon. For Krishna, this may feel like an exhilarating adventure, but for Yashoda, it is a moment of sheer terror, a mother’s worst nightmare realized.

The villagers of Vrindavan, or the Vrajvasis, share in Yashoda’s confusion and concern. They live simple, peaceful lives, devoted to their daily duties and causing no harm to others. Yet, they find themselves inexplicably caught in the crossfire of divine events. For the Vrajvasis, the frequent threats that arise in their village are bewildering and add to their collective anxiety, deepening their admiration for Yashoda’s resilience and devotion.

Krishna’s Early Phases of Life

Krishna’s life is traditionally divided into three distinct phases, each characterized by unique relationships and milestones. The first five years, known as the “Kaumara” stage, are particularly significant for the bond between Krishna and his parents. During this phase, Krishna is the absolute center of Yashoda and Nanda Maharaja’s universe, and vice versa. The next phase, spanning six to ten years, is the “Pauganda” stage. In this period, Krishna begins to explore the world beyond his immediate family, forming deep friendships and engaging in adventures that bring both joy and new challenges. The demons that once infiltrated the village now lurk outside, waiting for opportunities, leaving Yashoda in a constant state of vigilance.

The Depth of Yashoda’s Love

Yashoda’s love for Krishna is so profound that even the smallest incidents become sources of immense worry for her. For example, she might place Krishna under a cart for what seems like added safety, only to find that danger lurks even there. Krishna’s mischievous and adventurous nature often leads to unforeseen events, such as when he drags a heavy mortar and causes a giant tree to fall. For any mother, such moments would be heart-stopping. Yet, for Yashoda, her love and devotion only deepen with each challenge, further solidifying her unshakable bond with her divine child.

One of the most iconic and tumultuous moments in their relationship is the Damodara Leela, where Yashoda ties Krishna to a mortar in an attempt to discipline him. Despite her efforts to safeguard him, Krishna uses the opportunity to demonstrate his divine power, uprooting trees and creating a scene that leaves everyone in awe and disbelief. For Yashoda, this event is not merely a display of Krishna’s divinity but a poignant reminder of the constant struggle to reconcile her deep love, overwhelming worry, and the extraordinary nature of her child.

Maternal Devotion and Misunderstandings

Through all these trials, Yashoda’s immersion in Krishna’s life becomes all-encompassing. Her thoughts, actions, and emotions revolve entirely around him, illustrating the unparalleled depth of her bond with her son. Even in moments of mischief, such as Krishna denying he stole butter while his face is covered in it, Yashoda sees the innocence and sweetness that define his character.

Sometimes, even a liar’s lies appear endearing when love is involved. When Krishna lies, it only makes him more endearing to Yashoda. Yet, it also heightens her concern. Acharyas like Ananda describe the reasons behind Yashoda’s decision to discipline Krishna at certain times. For instance, Krishna’s butter-stealing can be categorized into two phases. Initially, he steals butter within the confines of their home. While this behavior is mischievous, it remains manageable and even amusing for Yashoda. However, as Krishna begins venturing into other homes in Vrindavan to steal butter, Yashoda’s worry intensifies.

Symbolism Behind Krishna’s Actions

Her concerns are rooted in both practicality and profound love. Vrindavan is a close-knit community, and Yashoda worries about Krishna’s future reputation. She imagines the day he will need to marry and frets, If Krishna earns a reputation as a thief, who will agree to marry their daughter to him? Yashoda often wonders, If Krishna wants butter, why does he need to steal it? I can give him all the butter he could ever want!

This anxiety, stemming from her motherly love, contrasts sharply with Krishna’s perspective. For Krishna, stealing butter is an act of playful affection, a way to connect deeply with the gopis who pour their love into churning the butter. The butter becomes symbolic of their devotion, and Krishna’s actions deepen his relationship with them by accepting their love in this unique form.

When European colonialists first encountered depictions of Krishna as a mischievous child stealing butter, they were perplexed. Accustomed to envisioning God as an omnipotent, judgmental figure, they found the idea of a playful, crawling deity incomprehensible. How can God crawl on the ground? How can God steal? And why would God steal butter? they asked. But Krishna’s butter-stealing holds profound symbolism—it represents his acceptance of pure, selfless love and his ability to connect with his devotees in the most endearing ways.

Balancing Love and Discipline

While Krishna’s antics bring joy, Yashoda understands that even love must have boundaries. As a parent, she feels the responsibility to guide and discipline Krishna. She tells him firmly, You must not steal—especially not from others! Her discipline is an extension of her love, a reflection of her desire to protect Krishna from the consequences of his actions.

In one of the most tender moments of their relationship, Yashoda ties Krishna to a mortar to teach him a lesson. This act symbolizes not only her maternal authority but also her unwavering devotion. She is perhaps the only person who can demand accountability from Krishna, the Supreme Lord, with the simple authority of a mother’s love.

This unique dynamic underscores the exalted nature of Yashoda’s love for Krishna. Her maternal affection, or vatsalya rasa, is characterized by dual anxieties: the constant fear of external threats and the worry of guiding Krishna’s mischievous nature. When sages tell her that Krishna is God, she dismisses the idea, saying, How can he be God? He can’t even control his hunger! When he’s hungry, he steals butter. He’s not God; he’s just my sweet, mischievous child. Even when Krishna reveals his universal form to her, Yashoda momentarily acknowledges it but quickly returns to seeing him as her little boy. For Yashoda, Krishna is not the Supreme Lord—he is simply her beloved son.

Devotion in Maternal Love

Mother Yashoda’s love for Krishna is unparalleled because it is rooted in complete absorption in him as her child. Her vatsalya bhava is her highest form of devotion, expressed through her relentless concern for his well-being and her tireless efforts to nurture and protect him. Her journey as Krishna’s mother is a testament to the profound depth of maternal love, a love that transcends divinity and rests in the simple, unshakeable bond between a mother and her child.

A Note of Gratitude:
Thank you all for listening. When I think of Krishna, I often feel drawn to his pastimes at Kurukshetra. I don’t fully know why Kurukshetra captivates me so deeply, but perhaps one day I will find the reason. I am sure all of you also have a unique aspect of Krishna that resonates with your heart.

Let us pray for our spiritual progress and offer our gratitude to Krishna:

Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare
Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare

I would also like to thank all those who have contributed in various ways to this gathering. From preparing prasadam to organizing satsangs, your efforts are deeply appreciated. Perhaps some of you have tasted the offerings lovingly prepared for these occasions.

Lastly, as we enter the divine atmosphere of Vrindavan through these discussions, let us remember that devotion is about participation. If anyone would like to contribute to the prasadam or the arrangements for our satsangs, you can reach out to our team here. It is a beautiful way to reciprocate with the blessings we are receiving.

Hare Krishna.
Tomorrow, we will begin promptly at 8 a.m. Please do join us for the next session. Thank you.