A Tragedy of Separation
According to solar calculation, it was on the day of Makara-saṅkrāṅti, an auspicious conjunction of the stars, that Nimāi Paṇḍita went to Kāṭwā to take sannyāsa, the renounced order of life. After this, He would become known as Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu. He swam across the Ganges and in wet cloth ran towards Kāṭwā. Just before this, He told only a few of His friends, including Nityānanda Prabhu, Gadādhara Paṇḍita, Mukunda, and others, “The time when I will accept the robe of renunciation is very near.”
Just a few days before this, an opposition party had been raised against Nimāi Paṇḍita. Those who believed that material nature is the highest principle, and that consciousness is a product of matter, began to abuse Nimāi Paṇḍita. He thought, “I came to deliver the lowest of men, but if they commit offense against Me, there will be not hope for their upliftment.” Suddenly, He said, “I came with that medicine which gives the greatest relief, but now I find that their disease is rapidly growing worse and seems beyond treatment. It will take its own course towards doom. The patients are committing offenses by abusing their doctor. They are making arrangements to insult Me. They take it that I am a family man—their nephew. They take Me as one of them. I came with the best medicine for the present degraded age, but now I find that they are plotting against Me. Now they are doomed. At least I have to show them that I am not one of them.” He thought, “I shall leave family life and take sannyāsa and wander from village to village, town to town, preaching the Holy Name of Kṛṣṇa.” That was His decision, and within a few days He went to take sannyāsa at Kāṭwā from Keśava Bhāratī Mahārāj.
Just the day before He left to take sannyāsa, from the afternoon until the evening, there was a spontaneous gathering of devotees in the home of Nimāi Paṇḍita. Every year in Bengal, that day was celebrated as Lakṣmī-pūjā, worship of the goddess of fortune, when special cakes are prepared and distributed. Nimāi, knowing that early the next morning He would leave Navadwīpa to take sannyāsa, attracted His followers in such a way that almost every leading devotee came to see Him that evening.
They came with flower garlands and many other offerings to be presented to the Lord. Nimāi accepted their garlands and then placed them on the necks of the devotees who gave them. Only four of His most intimate devotees knew He was leaving; the ordinary devotees did not know this would be His last night in Navadwīpa. With His own hands He garlanded the necks of His devotees and appealed to them, “Always chant the name of Kṛṣṇa. Under no condition should you give up this Kṛṣṇa-nāma. And don’t do anything else. While working, eating, sleeping or walking, day or night—in whatever you do—continuously take the name of Kṛṣṇa. Always talk about Kṛṣṇa—nothing else. If you have any real attraction for Me, then don’t do anything without chanting the name of Kṛṣṇa.
“Cultivate Kṛṣṇa consciousness. Kṛṣṇa is the origin of us all. He is our father; we have come from Him. The son who shows no gratitude towards the father is sure to be punished birth after birth. Always chant these names of the Lord:
Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa Hare Hare
Hare Rāma Hare Rāma Rāma Rāma Hare Hare
No other religious principle is required. Chant Hare Kṛṣṇa. This is not an ordinary mantra, but this is the Mahā-mantra, the greatest of all the great mantras, the very essence of all the mantras known to the world. Only take to this, always. No other prescription is to be followed.
“Remember your Lord, your home. This is a foreign land; you have nothing to aspire after here. Try always to to go back home, back to Godhead.” In this way, the Lord spoke, and all His devotees intuitively came because it was Nimāi Pandita’s last night in Navadwīpa.
Late at night, one devotee named Kholāvechā Śrīdhara arrived. He used to make trade on the plantain tree and its fruit. He would sell the fruit, ripe or green, and the big leaves which are used as plates. Sometimes Nimāi would pay him less for his fruits than what they were worth, and sometimes He would snatch the best fruits from him. Śrīdhara came to see Him late at night to offer Him a choice pumpkin. And Nimāi thought, “I have spent almost My whole life snatching so many things from him, and now, on this last night he has brought this wonderful pumpkin. I can’t resist.” He asked Śachīdevī, “Mother, Śrīdhara has given me this pumpkin. Please think of how it can be prepared.” At bedtime, someone came with some milk. Nimāi said, “Mother, with this milk and this pumpkin, please prepare some sweet-rice.” So Śachīdevī prepared some pumpkin sweet-rice: pumpkin boiled with milk, rice and sugar.
Late at night, at about three o’clock in the morning, Nimāi went away. He left Viṣṇupriyā-devī asleep in bed. His mother Śachīdevī, sensing what was to come, was staying awake all night guarding the door. Nimāi bowed down to her and went away. And like a stone figure, Mother Śachīdevī sat there by the gate as Nimāi left. She could not say anything, but was struck dumb.
A little after three o’clock in the morning, Nimāi swam across the Ganges and in His wet cloth went straight to Kāṭwā, a distance of twenty-five miles. He reached there by nine or ten o’clock. There, He approached Keśava Bhāratī to take sannyāsa.
In the early morning, the devotees came to see Nimāi and found Śachīdevī like a statue, sitting at the door. The door was open. Everything was empty. “What’s the matter Śachīdevī?” they asked. She told them, “Oh, I was waiting for you devotees. You take possession of the house. I shall go somewhere else. I can’t enter this house any more. You are His associates; you are the true heirs. Take possession.” They began to throng around her and console her. “You will go? What about the young wife He left? The girl is only fourteen years old. Who will protect her? You can’t shun the responsibility given to you. It is on your shoulders.” In this way they came and consoled her and tried to give her some hope.
Suddenly the devotees heard that Nimāi Paṇḍita, Śrī Gaurāṅga, had left Navadwīpa. They learned that He had gone to Kāṭwā, to Keśava Bhāratī’s āśrāma to take sannyāsa, bidding goodbye to the people of Navadwīpa forever.
A dark shadow came down. Many began to weep and cry for Him. Many of them ran towards Kāṭwā. Nimāi Paṇḍita was an unprecedented scholar with beautiful features—tall, fair, and benevolent. He had already made the people mad with the Holy Name of Kṛṣṇa. He had released the two great sinners Jagāi and Māḍhāi from their nasty life. He had checked the Mohammedan ruler, the Kazi, who had broken the mṛdaṅga drum. As a famous paṇḍita, he had defeated many scholars who came to conquer Navadwīpa, which was very much renowned for its high culture of learning, especially of logic.
At that time in Navadwīpa, logic (nyāya), worship of material energy (tantra), and official Hinduism (smṛti), were in high culture. Navadwīpa was highly renowned for scholarship. If paṇḍitas could not defeat the scholars of Navadwīpa, they could not become famous. From far away in Kashmir, Keśava Kāsmiri had to come to Navadwīpa to get a certificate that he was a paṇḍita. And he was defeated by Nimāi Paṇḍita. Keśava Kāsmiri was such a big paṇḍita that it was rumored he was the favorite child of Saraswatī, the goddess of learning. No one could face him. Still, he was defeated by Nimāi Paṇḍita.
But Nimāi Paṇḍita left Navadwīpa forever and took sannyāsa because the people of Navadwīpa could not appreciate Him. He reached Kāṭwā, where, just on the banks of the Ganges, there was a sannyāsī named Keśava Bhāratī. Nimāi went to him and asked him for sannyāsa. Keśava Bhāratī suddenly found that his āśrāma was full of luster. At first, it seemed as if the sun was rising before him; then he saw that it was a bright person approaching. He rose from his seat, and with strained eyes approached in wonder. “What is this?” he thought.
Then he realized that the great devotee-scholar, Nimāi Paṇḍita, had come. He appeared before him saying, “I want to take sannyāsa from you.” But Keśava Bhāratī could not accept Nimāi’s offer. “I am charmed by Your beauty and personality,” he said. “But You are so young, only twenty-four years old. What about Your mother, Your wife, and Your guardians? Without consulting with them, I cannot venture to give You the robe of renunciation.” In the meantime, as it was Makara-saṅkrānti, a famous holiday, many people had come to take bath in the holy waters of the Ganges. They gathered there and the rumor spread like fire: “Nimāi Paṇḍita of Navadwīpa has come to take sannyāsa.” Many men flocked there, until a huge crowd gathered.
They all opposed Mahāprabhu’s sannyāsa. Some of them raised their voices in protest: “You—Keśava Bhāratī! We won’t allow you to give sannyāsa to this young man. He has a family, his mother and wife. We won’t allow it. If you give sannyāsa to this charming, young, beautiful boy, we will break down your āśrāma immediately. It can’t be!”
But Nimāi Paṇḍita kept pressing for sannyāsa. At last, Keśava Bhāratī asked him, “So, you are that Nimāi Paṇḍita about whom we have heard so much? Many big scholars came to conquer Navadwīpa, the famous seat of learning, and You have defeated them all. Are You that Nimāi Paṇḍita?” “Yes,” said Nimāi. Keśava Bhāratī told him, “I can give You sannyāsa, but You must take the permission of Your mother—otherwise I won’t, I can’t do it.” Nimāi suddenly began running towards Navadwīpa to ask permission, but Keśava Bhāratī thought, “He has such a commanding personality, He can do anything.”
Nimāi was called back. Keśava Bhāratī told him, “With Your most extraordinary personality You can do anything. You will go there, charm Your guardians, get permission, and return. Nothing is impossible for You.”
The ordinary public was very much enraged, saying to Keśava Bhāratī, “We can’t allow you, Swāmījī, to give sannyāsa to this young boy. It is impossible! If you do, then we shall smash your āśrāma.” Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu began performing kīrtan, chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa and dancing madly. And the angry mob grew, sometimes creating a disturbance. In this way the whole day passed with no decision. The night passed in saṅkīrtan. And the next day, Nimāi’s will prevailed, although there was still some opposition.
Nityānanda Prabhu, along with Nimāi’s maternal uncle Chandraśekhara, Mukunda Datta and Jagadānanda Paṇḍita, gradually arrived there. And that afternoon, the sannyāsa function began. Chandraśekhara Āchārya was asked to perform the ceremony on behalf of Nimāi Paṇḍita, who began to chant and dance and charm the audience.
lakṣa-lochanāśru-varṣa-harṣa-keśa-kartanaṁ
koṭi-kaṇṭha-kṛṣṇa-kīrtanāḍhya-daṇḍa-dhāranam
nyāsi-veśa-sarva-deśa-hā-hutāśa-kātaraṁ
prema-dhāma-devam eva naumi gaura-sundaram
“While showers of tears fell from the eyes of millions, He delighted in having His beautiful hair shaved away. Millions of voices sang the glories of Kṛṣṇa, as Śrī Kṛṣṇa Chaitanya accepted the staff of renunciation. From that time on, wherever He went, whoever saw Him in the dress of a sannyāsī cried in grief. I sing the glories of that beautiful Golden God, the giver of divine love.”
The scene was at Kāṭwā. Four-hundred and seventy-four years ago, Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu took sannyāsa. He was young and beautiful, with a tall figure. He was only twenty-four and had beautiful curling hair. A barber was asked to shave Him, and approached Him, but then withdrew. The barber could not venture to touch Nimāi’s body. He began to cry. “How can I remove such beautiful hair from such a beautiful head?”
And so many others were also crying aloud, “What a horrible thing is being done here! Who is the creator of this sannyāsa? Who is so hard-hearted that he created the sannyāsa-āśrāma, where one must give up all that is near and dear and go from door to door, begging, leaving his own friends and relatives crying helplessly? What is this creation of the Supreme? Is it logical? Is it a happy thing? It is most cruel!”
Nimāi Paṇḍita was smiling. After the barber was ordered repeatedly, somehow he was forced to shave Nimāi’s head. At first, he could not venture to touch His hair, saying, “I can’t touch Him.” But at last, he had to do the service of shaving the beautiful, curling hair of the beautiful face of the twenty-four year old genius boy. He began with his shears. Some people could not stand the scene. Some even became mad. In the midst of the weeping, wailing, and crying of the threatening mob, it was done.
Nimāi Paṇḍita was senseless. After being only half-shaved, He stood up and began chanting in kīrtan and dancing in ecstatic joy. After He was shaved, the barber promised, “I will never again shave anyone with this hand! I would rather live by begging. This is my last service as a barber.” After this, that barber took up the occupation of a sweetmaker.
Ultimately Nimāi’s appeals pacified the mob, and a little before noon the inevitable gradually came: the sannyāsa function was performed. Chandraśekhara Āchārya, the maternal uncle of Nimāi Paṇḍita, was deputed to take charge of the rituals in the ceremony of sannyāsa. When the mantra was to be conferred, Nimāi Paṇḍita asked Keśava Bhāratī, “Is this the mantra you will give me? I heard it in a dream.” He whispered the mantra in the ear of his Guruwho accepted, saying, “Yes, this is the mantra I shall give You.” Then that mantra was given.
And the name of this sannyāsī was not given in an ordinary way either. A most peculiar name came through Keśava Bhāratī: “Kṛṣṇa Chaitanya.” None of the ten names generally given to sannyāsīs was given to Nimāi Paṇḍita, but the name that was given to Him was Kṛṣṇa Chaitanya. As soon as they heard that name, the mob began to cry, “Śrī Kṛṣṇa Chaitanya Mahāprabhu ki jaya!” “All glories to Śrī Kṛṣṇa Chaitanya!”
The father of Śrīnivāsa Āchārya was a class-friend of Nimāi Paṇḍita. On his way to his father-in-law’s house, he heard that Nimāi Paṇḍita had come to take sannyāsa. He ran there, and seeing everything, he became dumb—he was devastated and went halfmad. After that, nothing came from his mouth but “Chaitanya!” After he heard the name “Kṛṣṇa Chaitanya,” whatever anyone said to him, he would only say, “Chaitanya!” He became mad. After that, his name became Chaitanya dāsa. His former name vanished, and everyone used to call him Chaitanya dāsa. He could not stand the scene of Nimāi Paṇḍita’s sannyāsa.
Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, newly dressed in red robes, embraced His Guru, and both of them began to dance, chanting the name of Kṛṣṇa. After some time, the meaning of the name was given. Keśava Bhāratī Mahārāj said, “Śrī Kṛṣṇa Chaitanya means that You arouse Kṛṣṇa consciousness throughout the entire world. You have descended to make all people Kṛṣṇa conscious. So the most suitable name for You cannot but be Śrī Kṛṣṇa Chaitanya.”
Mahāprabhu was very cheerful, thinking, “I am going to relieve so many souls from their eternal misery and affliction. I have promised to deliver the whole world from this ocean of misery and take them to the nectarine world, and now I am going to accept that task.” He was cheerful, but everyone around Him was diving in the ocean of despair and sorrow. Some scholars stress that Chaitanya Mahāprabhu took sannyāsa from Keśava Bhāratī, who was a māyāvādī, an impersonalist. But although Keśava Bhāratī may have externally showed himself in that way, it is seen that by coming in connection with Mahāprabhu, he became a devotee. Otherwise, we may also think that he was a devotee who came in the garb of an impersonalist to help the preaching of Mahāprabhu by assisting Him with the social formality of taking sannyāsa. At that time, all over India, māyāvādī sannyāsīs had greater recognition than Vaiṣṇava sannyāsīs, and Keśava Bhāratī was already situated in that post. Mahāprabhu took the garb of a sannyāsī from him for His own purpose, to help His preaching activity. All these things may be explained in different ways. In any case, after Mahāprabhu took sannyāsa, Keśava Bhāratī began to sing and dance with Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu. He joined in saṅkīrtan and was immediately converted.
In this way, the sannyāsa of Nimāi Paṇḍita took place. What is the meaning of His sannyāsa? Is it redundant, auxiliary, or a necessary part of spiritual advancement? Is it desirable? Although apparently undesirable, still it has its necessity. In the Kṛṣṇa conception of theism, there is a deep-rooted correlation between union with the Lord and separation from Him. Without separation, union cannot be deep-rooted. The pain of separation can enter into the depth of the heart much more than cheerfulness. Such apprehension increases our satisfaction. The greater our want, the greater our satisfaction. This is especially true in love affairs. If there is no necessity of a thing, it has no value. This principle is found everywhere. A glass of water is ordinary, but according to the degree of its necessity, its value will increase. So the degree of necessity is most important. Necessity means separation. Necessity independent of fulfillment is separation, hunger.
Separation plays the most important part in both Navadwīpa and Vṛndāvana līlā. How many years of union were there between Kṛṣṇa and the gopīs? Kṛṣṇa was only in Vṛndāvana from the age of seven years up to the age of twelve: five years. Then, He went to Mathurā. Of course, it is mentioned in the Padma Purāṇa that in peculiar or extraordinary cases, growth should be measured by multiplying by one and a half. So when Kṛṣṇa is eight years old, He should be considered twelve. When He is twelve, He should be considered eighteen years of age. So according to His growth, Kṛṣṇa was in Vṛndāvana from the age of twelve to eighteen, but according to His years, from the age of seven to twelve.
He stayed in Dvārakā for a long time; altogether He lived here on this Earth for one hundred and twenty-five years. After He left Vṛndāvana at the age of twelve, the pangs of separation were felt by the gopīs throughout their whole lives. Their long, long separation has made their devotion so dignified; the test of separation shows whether love is real. Such a long-standing separation and such a great test has never been found in history; still, the depth of their love did not diminish. Rather, an inconceivable, ever increasing depth of divine love was found there.
And in both Navadwīpa and Vṛndāvana, the background is almost similar. In Navadwīpa, to gain victory over the opposition party, Mahāprabhu left His household life. And in Vṛndāvana-līlā it is also similar. The opposition in Vṛndāvana-līlā came from Mathurā in the form of Agha, Baka, Pūtanā, Tṛnāvarta, and other demons who were being sent by King Kaṁsa. To uproot the opposition, Kṛṣṇa had to go to Mathurā. And when He went there, He found that the opposition was widespread. Kaṁsa’s father-in-law, Jarāsandha, Kālayavana, Śiśupāla, Dantavakra, and many others were inimical to Kṛṣṇa. So Kṛṣṇa promised the gopīs that after finishing His enemies, He would return to Vṛndāvana to play peacefully with them. To uproot the opposition party, Kṛṣṇa had to go away. And He told the gopīs in Kurukṣetra, “I have some other enemies; after finishing with them, I will be reunited with you.” That sort of hope was given to the gopīs in Kurukṣetra.
Here also, to conquer the opposition party, Mahāprabhu had to leave Navadwīpa. Later, after His conquest of all the Indian scholars and religionists of different positions and creeds, after five years, when He returned to Navadwīpa, everyone was transformed. The mass approached Him madly. It is difficult to conceive with what madness the mass approached Śrī Chaitanyadeva, the child of their own village.
They crossed the Ganges. The whole Ganges, as far as it could be seen, was filled with human heads. They were running towards Him from all directions in such a way that the jungles were cleared by human feet. For a few days, Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu stayed nearby in Vidyānagara, and then went towards Vṛndāvana, singing the Holy Name of Kṛṣṇa. Thousands of devotees were running behind Him, digging up the earth to take the dust of His holy feet, and huge pits were being created.
For about eighteen years Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu led a scholarly life as Nimāi Paṇḍita. After that, for about six years, He wandered through the length and breadth of India, including Vṛndāvana.
The last eighteen years of His life, He remained in Jagannātha Purī continuously. For the first six years of His sannyāsa, He mixed with the general public. The last twelve years of His life, He almost retired from the whole human society and engaged Himself deeply in tasting the union in separation of Rādhā-Govinda. And many extraordinary symptoms of ecstasy which have never been experienced anywhere, nor even heard of, were expressed by Him. Separation can produce such wonderful effects in the body and mind.
Śrī Gaurāṅga-avatāra has twofold characteristics: the apparent reason for His advent is to deliver to people in general from sin, and to give them the highest attainment of life—to take them towards Vṛndāvana, Vraja-līlā, by giving the Holy Name of Kṛṣṇa. This is actually the function of the Yuga-avatāra, the incarnation of Godhead for the age. The Lord comes to distribute the divine sound and to show how one can reach the highest position through divine sound. Still, He had another purpose to fulfill. Once in Brahmā’s day—in a special Kali-yuga—Kṛṣṇa Himself comes in the mood of Rādhārāṇī to search Himself. He wants to taste the mood of Rādhārāṇī, to understand the nature of Her inner hankering for Kṛṣṇa, how She can taste the sweetness of Kṛṣṇa by Her mood, and what is the joy She derives.
Kṛṣṇa wanted to have some experience of why Rādhārāṇī is so mad for Him. He thought, “What is there in Me that makes Her so immeasurably mad for Me? What sweetness can She draw from Me? I can’t ascertain it.” He wanted to mold Himself in the mood of Śrī Radhika and try to taste His own self from that temperament. So He came as Śrī Chaitanya.
When He conceived of such an incarnation, and proposed His idea to Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī, we are told that Rādhārāṇī, on Her part, said, “Sometimes You will madly roll on the earth, taking My name, but I wont be able to tolerate it. I shall cover Your body with My golden form. I won’t allow You to roll on the earth. I shall cover You with My embrace.” So it is said by those who know the ontological aspect of Śrī Chaitanyadeva, “I offer my respects to Śrī Chaitanyadeva, whose mood and color is Rādhārani’s and whose inner self is Kṛṣṇa searching for Himself, tasting Himself, and trying to understand why Rādhārāṇī is mad to taste Him and what sort of sweetness She finds in Him (rādhā-bhāva-dyuti-suvali-taṁ naumi kṛṣṇa-svarūpam).”
Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu remained in this world for forty-eight years. In the last twelve years of His life, He engaged Himself with deep attention in tasting Himself. Just as everyone is mad to taste sweetness, Kṛṣṇa, sweetness personified, is also mad to taste Himself.
Introspection means to know oneself. Consciousness can know consciousness. And just as one can feel his own body, or consciousness can conceive of itself, ecstasy can also taste ecstasy. This is confirmed by Svarūpa Dāmodara Prabhu, Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu’s personal secretary, who is considered to be Lalitā-sakhī, the nearest friend of Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī in the pastimes of Kṛṣṇa. He has said what Śrī Chaitanyadeva is:
rādhā kṛṣṇa-praṇaya-vikṛtir hlādinī-śaktir asmād
ekātmānāv api bhuvi purā deha-bhedaṁ gatau tau
chaitanyākhyaṁ prakaṭam adhunā tad dvayaṁ chaikyam āptaṁ
rādhā-bhāva-dyuti-suvalitaṁ naumi kṛṣṇa-svarūpam
“I worship Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, who is Kṛṣṇa Himself, enriched with the emotions and radiance of Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī. As the predominating and predominated moieties, Rādhā and Kṛṣṇa are eternally one, with separate individual identities. Now They have again united as Śrī Kṛṣṇa Chaitanya. This inconceivable transformation of the Lord’s internal pleasure-giving potency has arisen from the loving affairs of Rādhā and Kṛṣṇa.”
In this verse, Svarūpa Dāmodara says that the pastimes of Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa and those of Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu are parallel and eternal. Whether winter is first and summer follows, or summer is first and winter follows is difficult to say. Similarly, in the eternal pastimes of the Lord, the movement is rolling in a circle. Therefore, Svarūpa Dāmodara says, “Whether Chaitanya-avatāra is first and Kṛṣṇa-avatāra is next, or Kṛṣṇa-avatāra is first and Chaitanya-avatāra is next is difficult to say—both are eternal.”
And who is Śrī Rādhā? She is the development of the sweetness that springs from Kṛṣṇa Himself. That sweetness, in a developed form as Rādhā, springs up from within Kṛṣṇa; Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī is a particular potency coming out of Kṛṣṇa Himself: hlādinī-śakti. So Rādhā and Kṛṣṇa cannot be conceived of as separate entities; the two of Them are one and the same. Still, we are told that in ancient times They divided into two. And then again, both of Them combine as Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, Whose luster and mood is that of Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī and whose nature and reality within is Śrī Kṛṣṇa’s. Fire and heat cannot be separated; sun and light cannot exist separately. They are one and the same. The Absolute Truth is one absolute substance (advaya-jñāna), but sometimes Rādhā and Govinda show Themselves as divided and again They are united. When They are together, They are enjoying each other, and sometimes They experience a painful separation without the possibility of union. That is Their divine nature. Śrī Rupa Goswāmī explains this as follows:
aher iva gatiḥ premṇah svabhāva-kuṭilā bhavet
ato hetor ahetoś cha yūnor māna udañchati
He says that just as a serpent naturally moves in a crooked way, in a zigzag way, the nature of love is naturally crooked. It is not straight. So the concerned parties quarrel, sometimes with cause and sometimes without cause, and separation comes. Separation is necessary for the transcendental pastimes of Rādhā and Kṛṣṇa.
There are four kinds of separation: pūrva-rāga, māna, pravāsa, and prema-vaichittya. Pūrva-rāga means before meeting. This is found when Rādhā and Govinda are not actually meeting, but somehow one has come in remote connection with the other’s name, portrait, or something of that nature. When Rādhā hears Kṛṣṇa’s name or the sound of the flute—no real meeting is there, but there is some connection. The sound of Kṛṣṇa’s flute, a picture of Kṛṣṇa, or Kṛṣṇa’s name may bring about pūrva-rāga. And Kṛṣṇa may experience something similar by hearing the sound of Śrīmatī Rādhārani’s name. In this way, there are pangs of separation, but no actual meeting. The name is so sweet that He can’t contain Himself; she can’t contain Herself.
When the Holy Name of Kṛṣṇa enters within Śrīmatī Rādhārani’s ear, She becomes perturbed, thinking, “Is a name as sweet as this possible within this world?” This is Her reaction, and She experiences this also. She feels, “I can’t meet Him.” A pang of separation comes within Her heart. That is pūrva-rāga: the pain of separation that comes before meeting.
Māna is another kind of separation. Māna means that when meeting, there is some difference between Them in trifling matters. This is the very nature of love. Therefore, Śrīla Rupa Goswāmī says that love moves in a curved way like a serpent. It is not diseased, but this is the nature of the path of love. Sometimes with a trifling cause, or with no cause, a feeling comes that, “He is neglecting me; He wants to avoid Me.” And thereby Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī thinks, “I don’t want His company.” Although cent per cent appreciation is there, still, for the time being, some opposing sentiments spring up from underground; a clash comes in the sentiments of the Two, and One wants to avoid the company of the Other.
In prema-vaichittya, jealousy rises to such a degree that although They are already together, still some sort of thought comes within and makes Them think that They are far away from each other. These different kinds of separation are found only in the madhura-rasa. Prema-vaichittya is that condition which arises when Kṛṣṇa is there and Rādhārāṇī is just nearby, but seeing Her own shadow reflected on the body of Kṛṣṇa, She is so jealous that She thinks that it is another lady. So, great pangs of separation come within Her, and She thinks, “What is this? Another lady is there!” Her mind revolts. But Her friend, Lalitā, is warning Her, “What are You saying? It is only Your own image reflected there. Can’t You see it?” Then Rādhārāṇī comes to Her consciousness. She particularly notices, “Oh, it is My own shadow.” Then that feeling is immediately gone. This is an example of prema-vaichittya. These are extremely high transcendental subjects, and although this is not to be discussed in details, this is the nature of divine love in union and separation. Both are interdependent, for One cannot stay without the Other, and separation is created willingly to enhance union.
Another kind of separation is called pravāsa. There are two types of pravāsa: one is when the separation is for a limited time; another is when one has left the country for a far-off place, as when Kṛṣṇa went to Mathurā to attend to other duties. These are the four types of separation pangs between the lover and the beloved.
Of course, these transcendental topics are very high, and we should not indulge in them carelessly, for if we project mundane characteristics into the higher plane, our future realization will be harmed. Our mundane experience will tend to take us down, so we must proceed with caution. What we conceive of at present is not to be found in the plane of Kṛṣṇa’s pastimes—it is a far higher plane of existence than the realm of our experience. Our vision is adulterated. We have only an alloyed conception of the original thing. We must keep this in mind, and with this caution we may deal with these things.
It is safer to deal with the topics of the separation between Rādhā and Govinda than with Their union. Of course, we must understand that the pain of separation experienced by Rādhā and Govinda has nothing to do with this plane. And so, with this caution, we may talk to some extent about separation, but it will be extremely dangerous for us to discuss or to think of when Rādhā-Govinda and Their intimate friends are combined, enjoying each other’s company, because if we deal with the pastimes of Rādhā and Kṛṣṇa with any mundane conception, we will create a great offense. So to conceive of the union of Rādhā and Govinda is more dangerous than cultivating feelings of separation, as Mahāprabhu has shown by His example.
In separation from Kṛṣṇa, Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu is thinking, “I can’t tolerate even My own life without Kṛṣṇa! Without His grace, without His company, I can’t maintain My undesirable existence.” This kind of mood helps us, but still we should not imitate it; rather we must respectfully accept it as our highest ideal. This will help us brush aside our filthy, unwanted habits (anarthas). If some tears come, however, we should not think that we have realized the highest stage; that sort of thinking should be avoided. Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu Himself says, “I don’t have a drop of divine love within Me, for otherwise, how could I maintain My mundane life?”
And Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu took sannyāsa so that the residents of Navadwīpa would be drawn into this high stage of separation through affection’s force. His old mother Śachī-devī was crying hopelessly. His young wife, Viṣṇupriyā-devī, was helplessly passing Her days. Mahāprabhu took sannyāsa to create excitement, piercing into the hearts of the people the divine love that He came to give. They thought, “Who was Nimāi Paṇḍita? What great benefit did He come to give us?” That He left everything made them sympathetic towards Him. And for all these reasons the Lord went to take sannyāsa.
After the function of sannyāsa was finished, Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu became mad. “I must run to Vṛndāvana,” He thought. “I have given up all connection with this world. I have no attraction for it. I must run to Vṛndāvana to exclusively engage Myself in the service of Kṛṣṇa.” In trance, He began to chant a verse from the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam where Kṛṣṇa gives a description of sannyāsa to Uddhava. This verse was spoken by a tridaṇḍī bhikṣu, a mendicant. Mahāprabhu quoted this verse, thinking, “I have accepted this garb of a sannyāsī for this is favorable to My spiritual life. Now, no one in society has any claim over Me, and I will be able to exclusively devote Myself to the service of Kṛṣṇa. I am going to Vṛndāvana with no other engagement or connection with anyone.” In this way, in ecstatic madness He began to chant and dance. Keśava Bhāratī Mahārāj embraced Him, and both guru and disciple joined together, chanting and dancing. At that time Mahāprabhu spoke the verse of the brāhmaṇa who, in the last stages of his life, took tridaṇḍa sannyāsa and had to tolerate the torture of society in different forms. He said:
etāṁ sa āsthāya parātma-niṣṭhām
adhyāsitāṁ pūrvatamair mahāṛṣibhiḥ
ahaṁ tariṣyāmi duranta-pāraṁ
tamo mukundāṇghri-niṣevayaiva
“The previous great sages have accepted and shown the path of sannyāsa. I have now accepted that very form of life. Now leaving everything aside, I shall run towards Vṛndāvana. There, taking the name of Mukunda, Kṛṣṇa, I shall cross over the ocean of nescience. Crossing over this māyā, I shall reach Vṛndāvana and fully enter the service of Kṛṣṇa.”
The dress of a sannyāsī is meant only for an external adjustment, but the real thing is to serve Mukunda. And so, with this verse, He suddenly started towards Vṛndāvana from Kāṭwā. Near the banks of the Ganges, He entered the jungle thinking, “Now, my duty is to reach Vṛndāvana as soon as possible and there, in a solitary place, I shall sit and chant and sing the name of Kṛṣṇa.”
Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu ran towards Vṛndāvana and entered the jungle before evening. And Nityānanda Prabhu, Chandraśekhara Āchārya, Mukunda Datta, and Jagadānanda pursued Him through the jungle. Sometimes while running He would suddenly fall on the ground and begin to cry, “Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa!” Getting up suddenly, He began running—without any apparent direction—to the north, east, west and south.
Sometimes He would run away so swiftly that the devotees could not trace Him, especially in the night, when they would lose Him in the darkness. Then, they would all be disappointed, thinking, “Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, our Lord and Master, has left us!” But suddenly they would hear Him far away, crying, “Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa!” in a piteous, wailing tone. Then they would run in that direction and see that He was lying on the ground, crying,
kāhāṅ mora prāṇa-nātha muralī-vadana
kāhāṅ karoṅ kāhāṅ pāṅ vrajendra-nandana
“Where is my beloved Kṛṣṇa? I can’t tolerate His separation. Where is the Lord of My life, who is playing His flute? What shall I do now? Where should I go to find the son of Mahārāj Nanda?” In a piteous, heart-rendering tone, He was crying. In a bewildered state, with no consciousness of any particular direction, He would say, “Who are you? I’m going to Vṛndāvana. Why are you disturbing me?” After nursing Him, again they began to start towards the west, towards Vṛndāvana. Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu continued wandering in trance. But the great attraction of His devotees did not allow Him to go towards the west.
Taking advantage of His trance, Nityānanda Prabhu somehow coaxingly turned Mahāprabhu’s face towards Śāntipura. It is mentioned in the Chaitanya-Bhāgavata that beginning from Kāṭwā, they went west until they reached a place near Vakreśvara, about six miles north-east of Dubrarājpura, in the district of Birbhum. In Viśramatalā, on the other side of the Adjai river, there is a place which is observed as the seat of Śrī Chaitanya. There, they say, Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu turned His face from the west towards the east, or from Vṛndāvana to Śāntipura.
They wandered throughout the remaining evening, and then another day and night. Finally, on the third day, in the evening, He returned through Kālnā to Śāntipura through the arrangements of Nityānanda Prabhu, who appeared before Mahāprabhu in the red cloth of a renunciate. Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, although so familiar with Him, couldn’t recognize Nityānānda. He saw a sannyāsī before Him and thought, “I am going to Vṛndāvana, and here is a sannyāsī in front of me.” He said, O Śrīpada sannyāsī, where are You going?
“I shall go to Vṛndāvana with You.” “How far is Vṛndāvana from here?”
Nityānanda showed Him the Ganges, near Kālnā, saying, “Just see, there is the Yamunā.
Mahāprabhu said, “Oh, We have come so near the Yamunā!” Then, He took his bath in the Yamunā, singing this verse:
chid-ānanda-bhanoḥ sadā nanda-sūnoḥ
para-prema-pātrī drava-brahma-gātrī
aghānāṁ lavitrī jagat-kṣema-dhātrī
pavitrī-kriyān no vapur mitra-putrī
“O daughter of the sun: although you have appeared in the form of water, you are most dear to the son of Nanda, who is the spiritual sun. You dispel the sins of all sinners. Please purify this mortal body.” (Kavi Karnapura: Chaitanya Chandrodaya-nāṭaka 5.13)
Just before Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu arrived there on the banks of the Ganges, Nityānanda Prabhu sent Chandraśekhara to inform Advaita Āchārya to come. When Mahāprabhu asked Advaita Ācarya, “Is that you, Advaita? How did you know I was in Vṛndāvana?” Advaita Āchārya said, “This must be some kind of joke. Wherever You are is Vṛndāvana. And it is my fortune that You have come here, near the Ganges.”
“Oh, it is the Ganges?” “Yes.” Then Mahāprabhu, regaining His consciousness ofthis world, said, “Oh, then it is a conspiracy of Nityānanda Prabhu. He has brought Me here to the banks of the Ganges and told Me it is the Yamunā. It is all a hoax! I have fallen prey to His hoax.”Advaita Āchārya argued, “No, no, Nityānanda Prabhu has not spoken any falsehood. You have really taken bath in the Yamunā. The confluence of the Yamunā and the Ganges is in Āllāhabād, and it is mentioned in śāstra that the western side is the Yamunā, the eastern side is the Ganges. Now You have taken your bath in the western side, so You have taken Your bath in the Yamunā, according to scripture. So Nityānanda Prabhu has not told any lie. Anyway, I have come with this new dress for You. Leave Your wet clothes and accept this new garb. I have also cooked something for You. For three days you have been fasting, and today, as a sannyāsī, you must take some charity in my house. I am a poor man,” he said with folded palms, “but You must come.” They took him by boat to Śāntipura, to the house of Advaita Āchārya. The next morning Śachīdevī came, and Mahāprabhu spent about ten or twelve days there in Śāntipura performing kīrtan.
What is Vṛndāvana proper? It is a stage of consciousness. In different stages of consciousness, there are different subjective realities. Everything springs from the willpower of the Lord. He is the subject, and His potency and sweet will is all subjective. The Lord said, “Let there be light,”—and there was light. Hesaid, “Let there be water,”—and there was water. He said, “Let there be earth,”—and there was earth. If, like a hypnotist, the higher subject wants to make the lower subject see something, he cannot but see that thing. We are all in the subjective, imaginary world, but above imagination is the supersubjective plane of reality. So, Kṛṣṇa reveals Himself to one who has developed pure consciousness, and in the stage of pure consciousness one can perceive the true nature of subjective reality (sattvaṁ viśuddhaṁ vasudeva-śabditam).
To show us that Vṛndāvana is everywhere, Mahāprabhu was running here and there in ecstasy. When They met, Advaita Prabhu told Him, “You must be jesting when You say You are going to Vṛndāvana. Wherever You are—that is Vṛndāvana. We have that experience. What You say is very peculiar: ‘I am going to Vṛndāvana.’ Simply to teach us the value of Vṛndāvana, You are posing in this way.”
Vṛndāvana, the highest plane of divinity, is a stage of consciousness. Above the plane of awe and reverence found in Vaikuṇṭha, is Vṛndāvana, the land of simplicity and divine love. The peculiarity of the inhabitants of that highest plane of consciousness is that they do not feel they are in Vṛndāvana. It is aprākṛta, supramundane.
Knowledge has been classified under five headings. The lowest is knowledge acquired through one’s own sense experience: pratyakṣa—what we have experienced through our senses. That is the first stage. The next higher stage is knowledge we have not experienced with our own senses, but have gathered from the experience of others (parokṣa), just as the scientists have their experience, and we have gathered some knowledge from their inventions and discoveries.
The third stage is above the stage of human experience (aparokṣa). It is something like deep sleep. When we awaken, we say, “I slept very happily; I slept a very good, sound sleep.” But when in deep, dreamless sleep, we have no consciousness of that state. When we return from a deep dreamless sleep, we express some awareness of that experience, but it is hazy. Aparokṣa is a sort of hazy experience which is indistinct, where the subject and material object come together, and the material object vanishes in the subject. Śaṅkarāchārya, the great proponent of impersonalism, explains the gradation of consciousness up to this point.
On the other hand, the great devotee-scholar Rāmānujāchārya, as well as other Vaisnava āchāryas, are of the opinion that there is a fourth stagebeyond this. That plane is called adhokṣaja, transcendental, or that which exists beyond the scope of the senses, whether gross or subtle. It is a plane that we can experience only when, by its sweet will, it comes down to our gross plane of understanding. If it withdraws, we are helpless; we can’t find it. We cannot say that the Absolute Truth is under the control of our knowledge. We can’t measure it like that. It is independent. By its sweet will it may come down and we may experience that higher realm, but if it withdraws, we are quite helpless; we can do nothing. We may cry or we may pray, but we can’t enter there forcibly by dint of our own power. This is the fourth plane of consciousness, and it is grand, all-powerful, and all-inspiring. Only if it reveals itself to us can we have some experience of that plane known as Vaikuṇṭha, the unlimited spiritual region of awe and power.
That is the adhokṣaja plane. So, there is pratyakṣa direct experience through sense perception, then parokṣa, learning through the experience of others, then aparokṣa, the negative plane of indistinct consciousness, and then the fourth dimension: adhokṣaja. We are underground. Real knowledge is above, on the surface, beyond our experience. If we can pierce through the thick coverings walling up our experience, we can come in connection with another plane of consciousness: that is adhokṣaja. Adho-kṛtam indriya-jaṁ jnāñam: adhokṣaja means the superior knowledge which can force down our knowledge of the experience of this world. That transcendental, supramental knowledge is the fourth stage of knowledge. That plane is different in every way. It is not similar to this world.
But through Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam and Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, we come to know that there is a fifth stage of knowledge which is very similar to this mundane world, yet is not mundane. It is called aprākṛta. That is Goloka, the full-fledged theistic conception which is only found in Kṛṣṇa’s domain. Central knowledge of the absolute must have a connection with even the lowest level of mundane creation; it must be able to harmonize the worst portion of the illusory world. This is known as aprākṛta, supramundane. To enter that highest realm is possible only through divine love.
Everything can be compensated only through love. There is a saying that a loving mother thinks that her blind child has beautiful lotus eyes. She is blinded by affection. So, what is mean and low can only be compensated by love—that shines very beautifully. That is prema, or divine love. Through mercy, through pity, through grace, a king can come to play with a boy on the street. Affection can make it possible. The difference between high and low disappears at such a stage.
The residents of Vṛndāvana think themselves ordinary. This is jñāna-śūnyā-bhakti, divine love which is free from any calculation and does not consider even the opulence and power of the Lord. That devotion is above even Vaikuṇṭha and goes on under the spell of yogamāyā, the spiritually enchanting potency. It is the special art of yogamāyā that those holding the highest position think themselves very insignificant. Love removes the difference of great and small, high and low. Vṛndāvana is such a plane of existence. There we find devotion free from any trace of calculation (jñāna-śūnyā-bhakti). Even the residents of Vṛndāvana may not know their own exalted position.
Advaita Prabhu tells Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu, “Wherever You are, there is Vṛndāvana.” Narottama dasa Ṭhākur says wherever we find a true devotee of Kṛṣṇa—there is Vṛndāvana (yata vaiṣṇavagaṇa sei sthāna vṛndāvana. Prema-Bhakti-Chandrikā). Outwardly we may think that they are members of this ordinary world, but the object of all their conversation and behavior is Vṛndāvana. Still, although they are in Vṛndāvana, they do not feel themselves to be there.
They are not conscious of their own exalted position. A king, when he is not very conscious of his power, thinks of himself as an ordinary person. It is something like that. Someone may be a great doctor butthrough affection he may do the work of a nurse for his patient. Out of his love and affection for the patient, he may come down to do such work, but still he is great. This is the beautiful nature of Vṛndāvana life. It is great without the attitude, the air of bigness. Although they are really great, they appear to be simple. Power dressed in affection and love, couched in humility—that is Vṛndāvana. And that is also Navadwīpa.
Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam and Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu say that this is the highest and most laudable place for us to live. There, the Supreme Lord Kṛṣṇa and the gopīs are living in the forest. There, we find no grandeur or big buildings, but if we have a true eye for grandeur, we will see it in Vṛndāvana. From an impartial judgment of the facts, their position is very great, but through humility they have apparently descended to our level. It is a very sweet and beautiful form of life that we find in Vṛndāvana. And Mahāprabhu came to show that to us through Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam. Kṛṣṇa is the Lord of that land, and the cows, hills, forests, and the Yamunā river are all creating a favorable environment there.
So Mahāprabhu took sannyāsa to teach us, to take us up and make us the permanent inhabitants of that place. He says that actually, our real self lives in that plane, but unfortunately our consciousness has become focused outside. Now we are captured by the mundane aspect of this creation and think that we are suffering,but this is all illusion. We must get relief from this mania. Mania means madness, and now we are possessed by some mania. Just as a madman leaves his home and wanders in the street collecting pieces of paper and cloth, we are focused in this world, but when this madness is gone, we will awaken in our own home.
We must return back to Godhead, back to home. Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu says, “Your home is a beautiful land. You must try for that. Why are you always troubled with the horrors of war, epidemic, earthquake, undesirable disease, stealing, dacoiting, and fighting with so many neighbors? At the bottom of all this is the fact that you have identified yourself with this material world and this body of flesh and blood. You have to retrace your path and go back to your home.” That is what is necessary. Our homeland is such a lovely and beautiful and divine place. Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu’s sannyāsa is all for us, and it is for the purpose of taking us back home, where we can have home comforts, home sweetness. If we have any home-consciousness within, then we must appreciate such a proposal: home sweet home.
Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu’s sannyāsa is apparently very cruel to His devotees, and to His family members, but it was meant only to take us to our home. To work out the ecstasy of union, it was necessary for Śrī Chaitanya Mahāprabhu to show separation from His devotees and relatives. Separation and union are mutually helpful. Mahāprabhu’s sannyāsa, His renunciation, is a great tragedy of separation.
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