SHYAMDAS 1953-2013 IN MEMORIAM

SHYAMDAS 1953-2013 IN MEMORIAM
SPECIAL ISSUE January 2013
January 2013
1

Publishers & Founding Editors
Ro b e R t Mo s e s & ed d i e st e R n
Advisors
dR. Ro b e R t e. sv o b o d a
Me e na k sh i Mo s e s
Jo c e ly n e st e R n
Editors
Me e n a k s h i Mo s e s
Eddie Stern
Design & Production
Ro b e Rt Mo s e s
ed d i e st e R n
Diacritic Editors
Vyaas Houston
Paul H. Sherbow
Assistance from
Deborah Harada
Website
Kendal Kelly
Robert Moses
sR i sw a M i vi s h n u-d e va n a n d a
sR i k. Pat ta b h i Jo i s
NÄMARÇPA uses diacritical marks, as per the
chart shown to the right, for the transliteration of all
Saêskäta words. While many of the articles do contain
these marks, it is not a universal occurrence in the
magazine. In those cases where authors have elected
not to use diacritics, Saêskäta words remain in their
simple, romanized form. Chart by Vyaas Houston.
2 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
SPECIAL ISSUE JANUARY 2013
SHYAMDAS • 1953 - 2013 • IN MEMORIAM
COVER PHOTO BY MARTIN BRADING
4 OBITUARY: HANNAH LILA SELIGSON-SCHAFFER
5 A STRANGE THING: EDDIE STERN
6 EVERYDAY WITH SHYAM: MIKE DIAMOND
7 IN MEMORIAM: GAURA VANI
10 NĀMA & RŪPA: VALLABHDAS
12 OUR LAST DATE: ALLY GOPI KREIM
ARTICLES BY SHYAMDAS IN NÄMARÇPA ISSUES
16 ECSTATIC COUPLETS NĀMARŪPA ISSUE 12 VOL 6
20 RASAKHĀN NĀMARŪPA ISSUE 7
24 OCEAN OF GRACE NĀMARŪPA ISSUE 7
26 GOVARDHAN LĪLĀ NĀMARŪPA ISSUE 4
29 YAMUNA'S STORY NĀMARŪPA ISSUE 3
30 HARI'S LĪLĀ NĀMARŪPA ISSUE 1
अ आ इ ई उ ऊ
a ā i ī u ū
ए ऐ ओ औ
e ai o au
ऋ ॠ ऌ ॡ अं अः
ŗ ř ļ ĺ ał aģ
क ख ग घ ङ
ka kha ga gha ńa
च छ ज झ ञ
ca cha ja jha ña
ट ठ ड ढ ण
ţa ţha ďa ďha ņa
त थ द ध न
ta tha da dha na
प फ ब भ म
pa pha ba bha ma
य र ल व
ya ra la va
श ष स ह
śa ša sa ha
� � �
kša tra jña

SHYAMDAS • 1953 - 2013
Shyamdas rows on the Ganga River at Varanasi. Photo by Ally Gopi.
January 2013
3

OBITUARY
HANNAH LILA SELIGSON-SCHAFFER
SHYAMDAS'S DAUGHTER
Published in The New Haven Register on January 27, 2013
Stephen Theodore Schaffer, known to most as Shyamdas,
was killed in a motorcycle accident in Goa, India on Saturday,
January 19. He was 59. A musician, prolific translator
of Sanskrit texts, and author of dozens of books, Shyamdas
was a pioneer in bringing Indian and yogic traditions to the
West. He traveled to India when he was 18 in 1971, and has
lived continuously in India ever since, returning to the States
part-time. Shyamdas wrote the manual on being a free spirit,
infusing his life and all those around him with a sense of play
and spontaneity. Shyamdas first studied under the tutelage
of Neem Karoli Baba-Maharaji who was guru to Ram Dass,
among others. He spent many years studying and living with
His Holiness Shri Goswami Prathameshji, one of the leading
masters of Hindu spirituality. During his time in India,
he developed fluency in Sanskrit, Hindi, Gujarati, and Braja
Basha, translating thousands of pages of ancient texts into
English. He became enamored with the mystic poets of North
India, particularly with the poems of Surdas, widely considered
the Shakespeare of Hindi literature. Over the last decade,
Shyamdas packed rooms at places like the Omega Institute
in Rhinebeck, New York with hundreds, even thousands, of
devotees who came to hear his teachings and chanting, more
commonly referred to as bhajans, a word derived from Sanskrit
for devotional song. His teaching style was infused with
humor, calling his Woodstock community the "bhajan belt"
and sprinkling in phrases like "aum shalom," a remnant from
his secular Jewish upbringing. One of his trademark charac-
4 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
teristics was that he was equally adept at making his rapt audiences
explode in laughter as he was able to make them contemplate
the scriptures of the Bhagavad Gita. He touched the
lives of so many with his sharp wit, deep intellect, loving nature
and ability to make even the most esoteric concepts accessible.
Shyamdas often traveled with an entourage, not because
he purposefully cultivated one, but because people just naturally
flocked to him. Growing up in Woodbridge, CT, neighborhood
kids would gather on his doorstep to receive their
marching orders for the afternoon. Outside of his career as a
musician and author, Shyamdas was an exceptional athlete. At
13, he became the state wrestling champion of Connecticut.
Later in his life, he continued to ski and play tennis, winning
matches against people half his age. He was also a devoted and
loving father, son, brother and uncle. For Shyamdas, his spiritual
practice was in pursuit of the bhava, what he described as
"the enlightened, inspired state of pure being." "Bhava creates
in us a direct experience of the unity of all things," he wrote.
To put it another way, he was in the highest pursuit of bringing
bliss and uplifting the people around him through his music
and teachings, as well as everything he did in his daily life.
He is survived by his mother, Gloria Schaffer, who served as
Secretary of State for Connecticut from 1971 to 1978. He is
also survived by his sister, Susan S. Ryan, children, Hannah
Lila Seligson-Schaffer and David Marks Schaffer, son-in-law,
Andrew Geffen Eil, his niece, Mae Ryan, his brother-in-law,
Frank Ryan and his partner, Allyson Kreim.

Calling out to Sweet Radhe in the mustard fields of Braj. Photo by Mae Ryan, Shyamdas's niece.
January 2013
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6 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
The poster of Śrī Nāthjī

A STRANGE THING
EDDIE STERN
DIRECTOR: ASHTANGA YOGA NEW YORK
CO-PUBLISHER: NĀMARŪPA
truly strange thing occurred on Monday February
A 4th. I was walking home from the subway after the
evening Siva puja at our temple and, as I passed by my
parked and frozen Vespa, I saw that someone had left a
rolled up piece of paper tucked behind my seat. I thought
that perhaps it was a flyer for something, and I walked over
to pull it out. The paper was somewhat fragile, with some
Rajasthani characters on the back – like a calendar of some
sort. As I unrolled it, I was amazed to see that it was an
old poster of Śrī Nāthjī from what looked like the Nathdvara
temple in Rajasthan, a temple and deity that Shyam
Das loved immensely. I couldn’t believe what I was looking
at. Nathdvara is not well known outside of the Vaishnav
circles; perhaps if it was a picture of Ganesh or Siva I would
not have been as surprised, but because it was the deity
that Shyam Das worshipped for so many years, I was taken
aback. Then I counted back the days, and realized that it
was the 12th day after Shyam's cremation, and that in the
Hindu tradition (at least in the South), this was the day
that the soul is released from the earthly plane, and begins
its one year journey to the next world.
met Shyam Das in a small ashram in Vrindavan in
I 1991. I used to enjoy hearing him tell the story of how
we met, because he was so funny and descriptive, and I
would look forward to his retelling of it whenever he came
to my school to do a kirtan or lead some teachings. When
we met, I was actually in a yoga pose, lying on my chest,
with my feet resting on my head. I remember distinctly
seeing a guy in a dhoti and what I thought was a maroon
football jersey walk through the ashram gates. He engaged
in animated conversation with a few people at the front
gate for a while, and then, after spotting me, walked across
the compound. I stopped doing my practice and said hello,
and we struck up a conversation. He said that he was surprised
to see someone doing actual yoga poses – that in
Vrindavan you never really saw that, and in fact he only
knew one person who practiced asanas, a yogi who lived off
in the forest of Braj somewhere.
In the midst of our conversation he told me that he had
come to India because of Ram Das, to meet Neem Karoli
Baba, and that after Maharaji left his body, he stayed in Vrindavan,
lived with the local Vaishnav saints, and learned how
to sing dhrupad – a North Indian classical music system. He
talked about Vallabhacharya and the devotional Radha Krishna
poetry of the region and we hung out for an hour or so.
We were both on the verge of heading back to the states – he
to Connecticut, and I to NYC – and I gave him my phone
number and invited him to come do some kirtan at the yoga
school I was teaching at back then, Jivamukti.
Kirtan was not then as well known as it is now.
There was not yet a kirtan 'scene', with many offerings
in the yoga schools and big festivals. It was restricted to the
ashrams, or to just a few yoga schools like the Sivananda
Yoga Vedanta Centers, where kirtan was sung daily, and
of course in the ISKCON temples. But until the mid-90's
you couldn’t find Western recordings available in record
stores, like Tower Records, or Virgin Records, until Jai Uttal
and Krishna Das started producing them. Shyam Das
was part of this generation that took part when kirtan began
to spread outward. He was a genuine devotee with a
penetrating love for the Divine, who expressed that love
through song.
But what characterized Shyam Das, and was really his
unique expertise, was a deep devotional practice that was
based on text, scriptural study, and seva, or service. Kirtan
for him was to invoke the imminent presence of God. The
name was the form, and the form was the name, and the invocation
was the presence itself. His seva carried over from
serving his deity and gurus to serving his friends and guests,
and he was the consummate host. But perhaps the greatest
service that he provided to his friends and those who
attended his satsangs, was to draw them into the Radha
Krishna Lilas through loving remembrance, through song,
poetry and reflection. His expression was unique, and he
will be missed.
January 2013
Shyamdas, Lili and Eddie Stern
7

EVERYDAY WITH SHYAM
MIKE "HEERA" DIAMOND
AKA MIKE D OF THE BEASTIE BOYS
Everyday with Shyam was a bhav-filled adventure
spent in search of God consciousness. This consciousness
also was the destination, journey and the sound track.
I will forever remember and cherish many days spent with
Shyam driving through Vraj and Rajasthan on the back of
his trusty Honda Hero motorcycle from one simple rural
baithak to another. It was soothing cutting through the
warm air on the bike, getting away from the mass of humanity
that is everywhere in India and Shyam always had
this internal and external bhajan soundtrack going at all
times. It was in these very modest temples that we would
meet the simplest pure and most highly devotional of all
beings. Souls for whom everything was seva or service. All
thoughts, all food, all water, every breath was offered to
God first and then eventually modestly imbibed as prasad.
Shyam was my guide to all. He taught me Sanskrit, a bit of
Braj Basha and numerous practical necessaries such as how
to bathe in the Yamuna River with a dhoti on, washing the
clothes, changing and hanging the now clean cloth out to
dry. Shyam was a real life and other worldly search engine
for the divine. A tour guide to other realms. He was able
to see the lila or divine play at work in all – just as much
when he was in the North East U.S. as in the Krishnafocused
village of Gokul. There is something that happens
around people who are truly comfortable in their own skin,
as Shyam was. Others start to feel the same. No matter how
different or foreign appearances seem. I mean, we would
roll up into small rural temple towns in Northern India,
where very few if any Westerners had ever been seen, and
after talking or, more commonly, yelling in Hindi, it would
be all betel filled smiles and greeting of "Jai Sri Krishna".
It was Shyam's great gift that he was able to take this experience
along with his absolute devotion to the texts of
Sri Vallabhacharya and other saints, and weave them into
seamless and very palpable stories for the delight of all who
would listen.
Shyamdas walking in the fields of Braj,
sitting on the banks of Yamunaji,
& drumming at his home in Jatipura.
Photos by Ally Gopi and Deva Premal
8 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam

IN MEMORIAM
GAURA VANI
KIRTANIST & MUSIC PRODUCER,
AS KINDRED SPIRITS
MANTROLOGY.COM
Shyamdas and Gaura Vani
On the early morning of January 20th, 2013, a rare
and special soul was taken from this world. Shyamdas,
world-renowned scholar, author and translator, kirtan leader
and dear devotee of Krishna, was killed in a motorcycle
accident while in Goa, India. He was there with a group of
friends, students, god-brothers and sisters teaching Sanskrit,
leading chanting and sharing his deep love for Radha and
Krishna. The following note is posted on his website about his
final days in Goa:
a r i OM...Ou r priceless f r i e n d shy a M d a s j i
Hleft
this world last night. He spent his remaining
hours, as usual, in satsang and bliss with
a group of dear friends. On this night in particular
they were reading Shri Vallabhacarya’s teaching
“Krsnashraya” and reflecting deeply on and
repeating the refrain, “Krsna eva gatir mama"…
"Krishna is my refuge and destination.” He has
arrived at his final refuge and destination now.
Shyamdas' passing gives me an opportunity to share
my appreciation for him as a devotee of Krishna and
genuine lover of God. I am indebted to him in many ways,
for, although he was from a different lineage than I am
(Vallabhacharya’s line, also called Pushti Marg), he made an
undeniable impact on my world by his example of tirelessly
spreading the yuga-dharma (the prime spiritual duty for this
age) of chanting God’s names and introducing thousands
to the beauty and joy of kirtan. Because of this, he holds
a place as a very important teacher in the modern age who
influenced some of the most well-known and important cultural
icons of our time, such as the musicians Sting and the
Beastie Boys. He also acted as a link to the sacred land of
Krishna, known as Vraj or Vrindavan, for many in the modern
American yoga scene, inviting them and guiding them
into a physical and spiritual connection with that holy land.
So we celebrate his life with this humble remembrance.
Shyamdas is mostly known as a kind of divine madman
whose kirtans were filled with spontaneity and humor. He
was an incredible raconteur and extemporized during his kirtans
about everything from current events to stories of Radha
and Krishna. He could speak five languages and translated
many of the songs and writings of saints from the Pushti Marg
tradition, including those of Vallabhacharya, Govinda Svami,
Raskhan, Surdas and others. He was always distributing
prasad (sanctified food) that he’d cooked for his deities and,
magically, always had enough for any last minute guests. He
played tennis in a dhoti. He always wore bundi-style kurtas
that seemed like a throwback to a bygone era in Indian devotional
fashion. He was a do-it-yourselfer and had no problems
doing any service, whether it was humble or grand.
There are some beautiful stories about Shyamdas’s
life and spiritual journey in the book The Yoga of Kirtan
by Satyaraja Dasa (Steven J. Rosen) www.yogaofkirtan.com.
One incredible story stands out in my mind. He was taken
to a psychologist as a young child because he would often
tell his family about a beautiful, “blackish boy” who would
sometimes follow him. He remembers having visions of this
boy throughout his childhood, which were accompanied by a
mystical and transcendent feeling. Later he came to the conclusion
that this “boy” was actually a form of Krishna, who is
also often described as blackish or blueish in complexion.
Shyamdas was introduced to spirituality in the 60’s and began
reading books on Buddhism and yoga. Somehow from
his reading, a very specific question arose clearly in his mind
which then fueled his search for a guru and led him to India
and ultimately to his life’s work of devotion to Krishna and
kirtan. He wanted to know whether God was formless and
devoid of qualities or whether he was the possessor of all diversity
and all qualities. This search brought him with a group
of other young seekers to the ashram of his first guru, Neem
Karoli Baba, in Vrindavan. Shyamdas stayed and studied with
saints in Vrindavan, eventually meeting his second guru Sri
Prathameshji, whom he studied with for twenty years. Shyamdas
began to carry these teachings with him when he visited
January 2013
9

the West and was one of the first (if not the first) kirtan wallahs
to be showcased in yoga studios in America in the 1990s,
beginning with the Jivamukti Yoga Center run by Sharon
Gannon and David Life in New York City.
Jai Uttal, the influential kirtan artist, is a longtime friend
of Shyamdas and tells a funny story about their time together
in those days. Jai was living in Berkeley, California, and was a
well-known and busy musician with a host of responsibilities.
Shyamdas would often drop by unannounced (sometimes
more than once a day) and just want to hang out and chat and
share stories and do kirtan, and Jai would be trying to politely
get him to leave. But Shyamdas would say, “I’m not leaving
until we sing Hari’s name together.” And he would practically
force Jai to drop whatever plans he had and sit and sing with
him or he would refuse to leave. Once they finished chanting,
Shyam would leave happily.
I asked Satyaraja Dasa about his relationship with Shyamdas
and why he thought the beloved chanter was important to
the modern kirtan scene. Here's what he said:
"Shyamdas was in a unique position to bring spiritual
practitioners – especially in the modern yoga community –
to the next step. You see, he was a disciple of the spiritual
luminary Neem Karoli Baba, and he was also a disciple of
Goswami Prathmeshji of the Vallabha Sampradaya, a legitimate
Vaishnava lineage. Because of this, he was able to
serve as a bridge, linking practitioners from the two traditions
– this has proven to be beneficial for both. In addition,
I would say that Shyamdas served the contemporary
yoga world by conveying true jnana, i.e., knowledge, from
a bona fide source. His bhakti-infused pronouncements
were always rich with traditional commentary and insight.
Indeed, he was a scholar of numerous Indic languages and
he used that scholarship to good effect. But he was not
merely a scholar; he was a consummate practitioner, and
a jokester too. In fact, these latter qualities speak to why
he will be so missed. It's why I miss him. I can say that
for certain. His heart was full of joy, and this, more than
anything else, came out in his kirtan. This joy, or ananda,
is a gift from God, as was Shyamdas himself. He was a gift
from above, no doubt, and I miss him already, more than
words can say."
In my experience, Shyamdas was a source of incredible
encouragement and enthusiasm. He would often
shower me and our kirtan groups with praise. He commented
that he liked the way we presented the philosophy and
culture of sacred India in an accessible way, while still keeping
the essence. We would often stay up with him late into
the night long after the festival attendees had gone to bed
discussing and even debating ideas and sharing realizations
and aspirations. We shared about our tradition and teachers
and he shared about his studies and translations. He urged
us to think deeply about everything we said and did.
In my heart and mind Shyamdas is an uncle and friend, a
mentor and champion in the mission of spreading the Holy
Name. His companionship will be sorely missed. I am hon-
10 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
ored though to continue this seva in his absence. There is
a famous poem about the passing of devotees by Bhaktivinoda
Thakur, that hasn’t left my mind since I heard the
tragic news.
He reasons ill who says that devotees die,
When thou art living still in Sound!
The devotees die to live and living try,
To spread the holy life around!
Below are some specifics about Shyamdas’s passing,
written by his friend Mohan Baba:
“Farewell Shyam Das Ji
In the early hours of January 20, 2013, we lost our dearest
Shri Shyamdasji. Born Stephen Schaffer in Connecticut,
USA, Shyamdasji passed away at the Vrindavan Hospital in
Mapusa, North Goa, India following a tragic motorcycle
accident on a winding, hilly road near the Goa-Maharashtra
border. He was 21 days shy of his 60th birthday. His
companion, Allyson Kreim, riding with him on the back of
the motorcycle, sustained serious but thankfully not critical
injuries. She was released from the hospital after a few
days, has loving support of her family and many friends,
and will make a full recovery. Shyamdasji was a shining
light for all of us, and we deeply mourn his passing. We
mourn because we have lost one of the greatest Western
scholar-practitioners of Sri Vallabhacharya’s Pushti Marg
(Path of Grace). We mourn because he authored and translated
so many beautiful and profound books, making available
to the English-speaking world the sublime teachings
of Shuddha Advaita in which Krishna himself is seen as everything,
everywhere, and in everyone! We mourn because
Shyamdasji was a master and lover of the divine language of
Sanskrit, as well as Vrajbhasha, Hindi, and other regional
languages. We mourn because of the many books that most
certainly would have continued to come from the pen of
his bhakti-filled hands. We mourn because Shyamdasji was
a gifted kirtan singer, whose performances and recordings
were so filled with love and joy. We mourn because of the
ecstatic music he would have continued to make to uplift
and inspire so many people, bringing them closer to the
divine. But perhaps most of all, we mourn his loss because
of what he taught us about bhakti – what it really means to
love God with unswerving devotion every day, every week,
every year, every decade. Writing about God, talking about
God, singing about God, reveling in God, and doing God’s
seva (devotional service) was the joy and the calling of Shyamdasji's
life. He was what is known as an ananya bhakta,
“one who has exclusive devotion to God alone.” He was
a powerhouse reveling in the divine play that is Krishna’s
Lila. He could not be pried away. On the very day that
Shyamdasji left behind his mortal form (at the Vrindavan
Hospital, of course), he was teaching a Sanskrit text to a
small group, repeating the refrain over and over again as
it appears in the text: Krishna eva gatir mama – Krishna
alone is where I am going; he is my only support, my only ref-

uge. In the Bhagavad Gita Krishna says, “My bhakta comes
to me.” There can be no doubt that our sweet Shyam-ji is
now with his support, his refuge, his Beloved Krishna. We
will miss him dearly. Shyam Das will be cremated at 6:00
pm in Goa on January 22, 2013 in accordance with the
rites of his Pushti Marg tradition. Thereafter his ashes will
be immersed in a portion of sacred Ganga in Braj, in the
presence of his family, friends, and members of his ancient
lineage. For 12 days following the cremation, continuous
pujas and rituals will be held in the Braj area, Shyamdasji's
home for many decades, culminating in a large bhandara
(feast). -Jai Sri Krishna-"
Shyamdas at the entrance to his home in Jatipura. Photo by Ally Gopi.
In my recent conversation with Satyaraj-ji, he made
the following point about Shyamdas's departure. I think it
an appropriate ending for this offering:
"Shyamdasji's disappearance from our vision is disheartening,
to say the least, especially for those of us who know and
love him. We can take solace in the fact that, like Krishna, he
resides wherever the holy name resounds. I will say this for
certain: From this moment forward, when I attend kirtan and
see hands joyously upraised in supplication of Sri Sri Radha-
Krishna, I will sense Shyamdas's presence, see his familiar
form, smiling and goading us on, encouraging us to chant
with increasingly greater enthusiasm."
January 2013
11

NĀMA & RŪPA
VALLABHDAS
SHYAMDAS'S STUDENT AND FRIEND
Nāma and Rūpa, the name and form of the Divine,
were the absolute essence of life for my best friend, mentor,
and elder guru-brother Shyamdasji. He loved contributing
to this journal for that reason, and also out of his deep
dharmic connection and friendship with its co-founder Yogi
Eddie, as Shyamdas affectionately called him. Eddie-ji had
facilitated his first contacts with the yoga movement in the
U.S., where Shyamdasji was to dedicate his life to sharing the
sacred name, in ecstatic kirtans we will miss so much, along
with rare poetry and teachings on the Lord’s form, which he
inspired us to crave.
One aspect of Shyamdasji’s spiritual prowess perhaps not
immediately evident from attending his kirtan programs, in
which he shone as a divinely inspired speaker and singer, was
his astounding listening abilities (though in fact he was carefully
listening to each of us even while singing kirtan). How
had he garnered all of the devotional jewels, the teachings on
name and form which he shared with us? By sitting at the
feet of bhakti masters, humbly hanging on their every word,
insightfully interjecting questions that illuminated and advanced
the flow of wisdom and devotion.
I came into his life very late, but even at that point, after
over thirty years of devotional explorations and extensive
teaching, he was still constantly in search of every last opportunity
to sit at the feet of famous and totally unknown saints,
village practitioners, teachers and followers from any and every
lineage. He listened intently to all, eliciting, absorbing and
even subtly enhancing their teachings. As our guru Goswami
Shri Milan Baba now reflects, “When speaking with Shyamdasji
and addressing his poignant questions, often teachings
and answers of which I was not even aware would somehow
emerge from me. Shyamdasji had such a gift of penetrating,
insightful satsang.”
It was primarily through listening – though he would become
a voracious reader as well – that Shyamdasji developed
his astounding knowledge of the languages of devotion, wisdom,
and satsang: Brajbhasha, Sanskrit, Hindi, and Gujarati.
He told me of his early days in residence at the town
of Jatipura by the Govardhan Hill, when he used to literally
run to have satsang every night with two learned bhaktas.
Shyamdasji would sit on the cot between the two wise men,
listening intently as they discussed the sacred texts which he
12 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
himself would later painstakingly translate into English for
us. One night during his race to satsang, a dog jumped out
and grabbed hold of Shyamdasji’s dhoti, ripping it in half! He
continued running and attended the evening satsang in his
torn dhoti.
Shyamdasji was never one to slow down, especially not
when there was darshan or satsang to be had. I could never
quite keep up with him but loved trying. Whether it was on
our walks around the Govardhan Hill, through the upstate
New York woods, or getting ready to race out of the house for
the next kirtan program, I tended to lag behind. Eventually
he grew fond of calling out, “Where’s Vallabh?” This joke, like
his others, was actually a subtle devotional teaching – he was
furthering the divine search with the question, “Where is the
Beloved?” My only consolation through these tears is that I
feel, with more certainty than I have ever felt about anything,
that Shyamdasji has found his eternal Beloved.
In hindsight there seems to have been subtle awareness
on Shyamdasji’s part that his time on this earth was winding
down, whether evidenced in email correspondences like,
“Turning 60 soon, and into the beyond,” in uniquely deep
and tearful last goodbyes with loved ones, or the final reconciliation
and reunion with his son in November. My own
last parting with him was very different than the hundreds
preceeding it. For the first time I can remember, he sat silently
next to me in our Krishna temple that evening for the five or
ten additional minutes it always took me to finish the evening
seva. When it came time for me to leave, we embraced, with
none of our customary banter or discussion of details, this
time both of us holding back tears, able only to utter one
last praise of our Beloved Lord’s name and form: “Jai Shri
Krishna.”
Though his physical presence is sorely missed, Shyamdasji’s
unending contributions to our lives remain, in the spirit of
gathering, sharing and relishing wisdom teachings such as
those offered by Nāmarūpa.
"Jai Shri Krishna,
What a lila! To my entire family as well as to my circle
of Satsang friends and teachers: it was an honor to have
been a part of it. Know that the soul is eternal and plays
onwards, always reaching for the Beloved."
—from the Last Will and Testament of Shyamdasji

Shyamdas and Vallabhdas, Jatipura, December 26, 2012. Photo by Ally Gopi.
Captain of Bhava on the Bhajan Boat.
Photo by Mae Ryan, Shyamdas's niece.
January 2013
13

OUR LAST DATE
ALLY GOPI KREIM
SHYAMDAS'S PARTNER
On the 19th of January, as we walked hand in hand
along the beach, like we had been doing every day since
arriving in Goa a couple of weeks earlier, Shyamdasji seemed,
as was his normal bhava, completely elusive about what the
future would hold. I hardly knew what was going to happen
three minutes into the future with Shyamdasji, because each
moment was complete and always filled with richness. The
future was never the focus, but it would never be anything less
than miraculous with him.
On this particular evening, we were invited to a showing
of our friend Krishna’s documentary of Buddhist pilgrimages
filmed all over India. Shyamdas had one manoratha (heart’s
desire) for going. He said, “I want to show you the sunset
from Anders’ home.” Anders is an old friend of Shyam’s, a
gentleman from Denmark who has a beautiful abode outside
of Arambol in Goa.
“But we shouldn’t go until after dinner,” I said, since they
were planning on having a non-vegetarian meal and I wanted
to protect Shyamdasji from having to experience that.
“I don’t care, I want you to see the sunset view from his
home,” Shyam replied. As we continued walking up the beach,
we ran into our deeply dear soul brother, Kabir Das, who humorously
and eloquently recounted the events of his glorious
day in Goa to Shyamdas and me. Kabir had Shyam almost
rolling in the sands laughing with so much appreciation and
fascination. The conversation soon concluded with Kabir’s
blessings for us to go and check out the documentaries that
night at Anders’. We continued on our way back up the beach
to the Mandrem Beach Resort, where our usual nightly kirtan
beckoned, with gorgeous, familiar souls in a circle, singing the
various, delicious names of Bhagavan.
Shyamdas paused, standing just by the side of the circle of
14 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
Shyamdas and Ally Gopi at Śrī Gusainjī’s Baithak, Belvan
kirtaniyas, in deep appreciation and childlike curiosity, almost
as if it was the first kirtan he had ever witnessed. He sang
along for a brief moment, leaning back, throwing his hands
out to the side in a familiar bhava-filled posture Shyam was
known to take from time to time, before we continued on our
way back to our room to gather our things for the evening.
Since we were as usual sidetracked with the various love
filled dramas always manifesting around Shyamdasji, we were
late to catch the sunset, but we did in fact miraculously arrive
at Anders’ home just in time to see the last rays emanating
from the dimly lit horizon, over the inlet river below Anders’
wide open home.
As I gazed softly out upon this darshan Shyamdasji had so
sweetly dreamt up, my heart melted in gratitude for knowing
this unbelievable gentleman, whose pure heart’s desires
seemed to always manifest for him, since they were coming
from such a potent place deep within him.
We didn’t stay long once the sun went down, for the dinner
party was about to commence. We rode into Arambol, a
town about ten minutes south of Anders’ home, and Shyam
parked on the street across from a restaurant I had never been
to before, called Magic Carpet. This was only the second time
we had eaten at a restaurant in our three months in India. We
walked into the silent, surprisingly peaceful, widespread vegan
heaven. Looking around, I was thoroughly impressed by the
sattvic décor and the people sitting in the sands taking their
meals from low tables dimly lit by candles. As I looked up
towards the front of the restaurant and saw a flourishing Tulsi
plant contently blessing the arena, I reflected, “Wow Shyam,
this is your type of restaurant.”
“Yeah, they even have kirtans and yoga events here,” he affirmed.

We sat down in a cozy, quiet corner by the counter, so that
Shyam could have easy access to ask for more goods from
the cooks. On the rare occasions he did decide to go out, he
would always get so deeply involved with the whole lila, inquiring
about every detail of how and what would be offered.
He was a high maintenance wallah, I would say, in these types
of settings.
We decided on two chocolate milkshakes and a few slices
of German bread as our incredibly romantic mercy meal
for the evening, and I filled in the space with a lot of chit
chat, Shyam doing almost all of the listening. He held an
unusual type of silence I had never really felt from him
before. I went on and on about the incredible hospitality
of Indian culture, how people welcome you into their oneroom
home, give you everything they have, and ask you to
stay forever, and how we as Westerners have a lot to learn
from this country. Shyam just quietly listened, nodding
his head, and ordering more of that German bread. Shyam
had an incredible way of honoring my not-so-great ideas,
like bread slices for our last meal together. He would order
more just to shower my pathetic little desires with so much
grace. A perfect gentleman. It’s seriously the little things
that eternally pierce the heart.
Soon we had our fill from the Magic Carpet, and Shyamdas
and I headed back to Anders’ home for what we thought was
going to be a viewing of Buddhist pilgrimages, but when we
arrived and assessed the scene, we found that the hard drive
which stored the documentaries was malfunctioning. There
was a lot of energy around the computer to try and get the
thing to work. We all ultimately gave up fussing over the technology
and just sat down for satsang with Shyamdasji and a
circle of friends at the dinner table: Andy, Krishna, Ira, Sophia,
Anders, Janna, and Mohan.
As our friend Andy expounded upon historical highlights
of Buddhism and how it morphed, expanded, and influenced
souls in India, Krishna spoke about the sacredness of
being within a pilgrimage, and Shyamdasji shared anecdotes
of his unique experiences living in this sacred land. The conversation
was deep, filled with great bhava and enlightening
information.
After a couple of hours of discussion, the group felt in synchronicity
the wave to move the lila along, to say our Radhe
Radhe’s, and dissipate into the night. As I went to grab my purse
and say goodbye to everyone, I looked up by the door, and there
was Shyamdasji, eleven steps in front of me as always, waving
me to come to him with his left hand raised and his right hand
by his side, looking quite familiar in that divine rupa, almost
like Śrī Nāthjī Himself, a form very beloved to him.
We headed out to the driveway with a small group of the
satsang, and Shyamdasji and I boarded our motorbike and
began our way back home. Our friends, Sophia, Janna and
Andy were getting into a taxi van that left just ten minutes
after we did.
Shyam and I both took so much joy from these night rides
on the motorbike, the soft cool breeze along our faces and
bodies, the darshan of Goa’s peculiar yet beautiful scenery,
its personality accentuated by its colorful, European style
houses amongst huge and numerous banyan trees, and people
from all different places around the world, Indians, Russians,
Americans, Danes, etc. all adding to the unique allure of this
realm. We would watch it all, like a movie reel, together, in
silent appreciation, as we flowed so easily onwards.
But on this particular night, the Lord had some special
plans. We were just about to enter into the town of Arambol
and were going around a turn in the road when the single
headlight of an oncoming motorbike shone directly in our
gaze. At that moment, I felt like we entered into a deep,
dreamlike state. Shyam steered to the right to avoid contact
with that oncoming motorcycle, and we came down onto our
right sides. We both sat up immediately, fully conscious and
alive. I could see out of my left eye fine, and I saw that Shyam
was also sitting beside me in the road, Indian style. I called out
to him, “Shyam! Are you okay?” He softly replied, “Yeah.”
Within what seemed like moments, our friends got out of
their taxi and came over to us. Sophia saw that we were okay
and were able to get ourselves up, so she called Anders to come
with his Jeep. He was there within five minutes. We got ourselves
into his car, and he took us directly to the nearest hospital,
Vrindavan Hospital, about thirty minutes away.
Anders was driving, Mohan was in the passenger seat, Shyam
and I were in the middle seats, and Sophia was sitting
behind us, holding our bodies from moving too much from
the bumpy roads. Shyam was silent. I was quietly whispering,
“Shri Krishnah Sharanam Mama" – "Shri Krishna is my refuge,”
and Shyam’s hand found mine as we traveled onwards.
Upon arriving at the hospital, we entered into the first floor
examination room, where they separated us. My last sight of
our beloved Shyamdasji was of him plopping himself down
on one of the examination beds like he usually does, with full
throttle and fearless energy. But at that point, his breath became
heavier, so they took him immediately up into the ICU
on a higher floor.
They hooked me up to an IV and started probing and prodding,
X-raying – you know, the whole hospital lila, but all I
wanted to know was where Shyam was and if he was okay.
Sophia eventually came back to me and told me that, “Shyam
is fine,” with full conviction in her voice.
I was able to eventually fall asleep after all of the X-rays and
all of the injections to satisfy the junior doctors on call that
night. I dreamt the sweetest dream of Shyamdasji checking
out of the hospital, looking rather lean and young, and calling
out to me from the checkout desk, “Let’s go.”
I awoke to Sophia’s voice. She told me to get up and come
sit in a wheelchair. She said, “Listen to me. Shyamdas has
passed away.”
And the lila goes on. I can’t fully express all of the
incredibly miraculous events that validate this truly divine
soul’s passing and which continue to reverberate the magical
mystery of his life. It’s beyond description. He’s beyond description.
What else can we say, besides, Jai Jai Sri Radhe! Jai
Jai Sri Radhe! Jai Jai Sri Radheeeeeee! Shyaaaaammmm!
January 2013
15

16 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
Shyamdas in satsang with bhaktas
during his early days in
Jatipura and Gokul, and
with his guruji,
H.H. Goswami Śrī Prathameshji

Leading Kirtan at Bhakti Fest Midwest, 2012
Satsang with Mohan and a sadhu at
Ramdasji ki Gufa by the Govardhan Hill
January 2013
17

ECSTATIC COUPLETS
SHYAMDAS
18 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
Shyamdas wanders
the sacred lands of
Vrindavan in search of
the Gopis’ bhava.
The yu g a l gĪt a, which I have
translated and published as Ecstatic
Couplets, is actually an ancient kirtan –
it is a song, or gīta. Its words are in a
samādhi language, uttered in a state of
divine realization, and are among the
most refined of Sanskrit literature. The
voices are those of women – the Gopi
dairymaids of Vrindavan. These highly
advanced yoginis of divine love had
previously accomplished all the other
forms of yoga and samkhya. They had
already been there and done that, and
now they have come to the devotional
path of bhakti to attain intimacy with
the divine. They are not interested in
liberation, because they are already
liberated! They are no longer on the
path; they have reached the destination,
and this text is about what they see after
having arrived. It is not about method.
It doesn’t explain how to get there
necessarily; it’s just about what they see
and feel. That is why this text is so highly
regarded. You don’t generally find it
being taught, because it is too advanced,
in the sense that without some context
of the spiritual teachings involved in
these words, you would almost think it
was simply poetry or a nice story. But
it is filled with deep spiritual meanings,
and if we explore it deeply, with focus,
perhaps we can taste a bit of the Gopis’
divine mood – their bhava.
Where are the Gopis at the time they
sing the Ecstatic Couplets? They are in
their homes. They had already reached
divinity in the enchanting form of
Bhagavan Shri Krishna and danced with
Him. Then, as opposed to taking sannyas
and becoming renunciates, or going into

samādhi, they returned home. They were
not interested in gathering a following,
building temples, or even in promoting
dharma! They were simply interested in
reveling in divine experience. The Gopis
are ātmarāma – there is divine dalliance
within their souls; God is playing in
their hearts. And so, while sitting at
home, they sang these twelve verses.
Each verse is sung by a different kind
of Gopi, but each is enlightened in the
devotional sense. A devotee, or bhakta,
is never really referred to as “liberated.”
You don’t typically see the Sanskrit terms
mukta and bhakta together – a liberated
being and a devotee. Liberation is not
on the bhakta’s radar, because what is
there to be liberated from? In order to
hanker after liberation, you would have
to see yourself as being in bondage, and
that is a dualistic view.
When I first lived in India in
the 1970s, I had the honor of
spending time with a group of women
who made flower garlands for the deities
in the Krishna temple I lived in. They
were renounced, talented, accomplished,
knowledgeable older women who could
recite the Yugal Gita and other texts in
Sanskrit, Brajbhasha, Gujarati, and other
languages while creating exquisitely
ornate flower garlands. Every afternoon I
would sit around at the table with them,
and they would give me some of the
easier tasks to attempt while I listened
to their recitations. They had never seen
anyone like me, nor had I seen anyone
like them! We were in a state of mutual
astonishment. We would sit around a
table with a big pile of fragrant flowers
in the middle: roses, jasmines, etc., and
thread them onto long needles. There
are different ways of interpreting the act
of threading the flowers into garlands.
In one way, it is like your mind being
threaded into divinity. The flowers are
also seen as the Lord’s beloved bhaktas
being joined with Him.
In the midst of this flower seva, they
would regularly sing the Yugal Gita, a
section of the Shrimad Bhagavatam, in
its rich and complex Sanskrit entirety.
This text really is a love song. Twelve
different Gopis sing, each one explaining
her personal experience of Krishna. The
first line of each couplet explains how
Krishna plays His flute, and the second
line explains the effect His flute playing
has upon the birds, rivers, trees, and
others in Vrindavan. So, in each verse
we hear about the source of it all, and
then we hear what happened to the
various beings fortunate enough to live
in the Lila abode of Shri Krishna, the
land of God’s play.
The Lila abode is non-different from
Krishna Himself. It is not Krishna’s
Lila – the Lila is Krishna and Krishna
is the Lila. Everything is pure divinity
there. It is not God’s forest – the forest
is God. That is an incredible distinction
which is not easily understood, because
we barely understand anything about
Krishna, much less how Krishna can
become everything, or how everything
is absolutely identical. These are bhava
subjects, and that is why we get together
to discuss and increase our bhava
however we can, whether through
chanting, sharing stories, or reviewing
sacred texts like the Yugal Gita.
When Shri Krishna first played
the flute, the blessed love yoginis
imbibed nectar through sound. What
distinguishes their situation now is their
comprehension of the Beloved’s divine
form. The Gopis who sing the Ecstatic
Couplets have matured devotionally and
now know that until the reward stands
directly before them, nectar must nourish
their souls. God’s form is clearly in their
hearts, but they cannot find Him in the
outside world. The discrepancy inspires
an ecstatic song that returns to their
ears and ripens their devotion. Their
couplets reveal two nectars – the nectar
of sound and the nectar of meaning –
the two join and become Krishna.
The evening lilas have already been
explained in Shri Krishna’s Rāsa Līla.
Now, to remove any doubt that the
blessed Gopis are not subject to the
mundane revolving wheel of samsara,
the sage Shri Shukadeva explains how
their absorption into God occurs
through longing for Shri Krishna during
the day. I present to you here verses
1- 3, beginning with the introductory
remarks of Shukadeva, and have also
included portions of the enlightened
Subodhini commentary composed by
the bhakti master Shri Vallabhacharya
(1479—1531ce) and the Tippani
commentary of his illustrious son, Shri
Vitthalnathji (1516—1586 ce) :
Days of Separation
Bhagavata Shloka 1
Shri Shukadeva begins,
When Krishna goes to the forest, the
Gopis’ consciousness follows Him.
Somehow they manage to pass their
days of separation
By praising Shri Krishna’s lila.
Subodhini:
The Granter of Exquisite Awareness
When the guardian of constant bliss
goes to the forest, the Gopis’ minds and
hearts merge into Him. They are unable
to grasp anything else. They are totally
involved with God, their minds and
hearts plunged into Krishna.
Their devotion is very subtle and
Unfolds in every direction.
It seizes Hari’s lila –
Hari of everlasting joy.
It inspires them to praise Shri
Krishna’s lila, His dalliance in the
world. Just as Krishna Himself is perfect
joy, so is His lila. To show the perfect
unity between Krishna and His lila, Shri
Shukadeva mentions Krishna twice in
the first passage. If Shri Shukadeva had
ended this passage “by praising His lila”
instead of “by praising Shri Krishna’s
lila,” we would understand the lila as
merely connected to Krishna and not
that the lila is Krishna, the embodiment
of constant delight. When you realize
that you are separated from Krishna’s
everlasting joyful form, nothing except
rejoining with that connection seems
important. Yet somehow, as the Gopis
manage to pass their days with their
minds and hearts totally immersed in
Hari’s lila, they enter Krishna awareness.
While their Beloved is off in the forest,
their days are spent in sweet sorrow. The
Gopis hold their breath in expectation
of the night, when their union with the
Beloved will occur again.
January 2013
19

Hari’s superb lila takes place after He
plays the flute. In every couplet, the
first stanza explains Lord’s Krishna flute
playing and other activities while the
second stanza reveals what happens to
the beings that encounter Him. They all
become nectar connoisseurs.
The wives of the gods,
the cows, and the rivers,
The creepers and the trees as well
as the birds and the clouds,
Brahma and the gods, the Gopis,
the deer, and the celestial singers,
And, in the last two couplets,
the blessed Lord Himself.
The Gopis first describe the effect of
the flute upon the females of Vrindavan:
the gods’ wives, the cows, and the rivers.
They are all obstinate [tamas]. The flute
also affects the males of Vrindavan: the
creepers, the trees, the birds, and the
clouds. They are all passionate [rajas].
The flute then affects the creator,
Brahma; the Gopis; the deer; and the
celestial singers, beings endowed with
purity [sattva]. Everyone and everything
is awakened when they hear Shri
Krishna’s flute call. Its nectar confers
various divine rewards.
Flute-playing Krishna is totally
devoted to His followers, and though
He appears as a child, He is not
oblivious like one. He knows Himself
and understands the nature of His own
elixir as well as the elixirs of those whose
intellects are absorbed into Him. He
removes the suffering of His beloved
followers, who cannot be consoled by
cool moonbeams.
Before these couplets could be sung,
Shri Krishna absorbed
The residents of Vrindavan into
the pure bliss of Brahman.
Although the liberated abode,
it remained incomplete for them
Because it lacked personal
devotion to the Beloved.
Lord Krishna brought them out of
that abode to grant them the joy of His
Self, what is called bhajan ananda. He
enabled them to enter and engage in
the bliss-filled lila. He gave them the
20 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
experience of liberation to awaken their
blissful nature, to purify their senses, to
make the Gopis similar to the splendid
goddess Lakshmi and thereby qualified
for His enjoyment.
Truly, only Hari enjoys –
Yet, in the height of ecstasy, He is enjoyed.
Two types of Gopis experience Hari’s
infinite joy from head to toe. One
group is called Sruti Rupas. They are
personified forms of enlightenment who
came to Vrindavan to directly experience
the subject of their teachings. In this
world they had worldly husbands. The
other Gopis are called the Kumarikas,
the young, unmarried virgin girls who
worked for Mother Yashoda and were
enlightened sages in their previous
incarnations.
The laws of nectar apply equally to
God, to these two types of Gopis, and
to all other souls. It is said that the bliss
that arises between unmarried lovers is
supreme. Although none of the Gopis
married Krishna, the Beloved graced
them by taking on as many forms as
there were Gopis, and each manifestation
was in accordance with their individual
natures and their abilities to taste His
nectar and never-ending acts of love.
In the lila, the Gopis’ bodies and senses
are spiritual. To make them fit for
the joys of His encounter, the Blessed
One first touched them with the bliss
of Brahman and then absorbed them
into His amazing play. The Upanishads
explain, “He is full of rasa.” Truly, God
comprises sheer ecstasy. Shri Krishna’s
actions, lilas, and forms are all ecstatic.
The yoginis of love, who live in
Vrindavan, Lord Krishna’s abode,
taste elixir that is not known to even
the gods’ wives. It is experienced in
this world wherever the joys of Hari’s
worship are revealed. The Gopis
are the gurus of lila realization and
worship the Beloved with intense,
profound bhava. They understand the
nature of rasa. Men who can fathom
the Gopis’ blessed devotion may enter
their joyful devotional world and
peer into the eternal activities. The
Ecstatic Couplets allow us glimpses
into the Gopi-Krishna lila. We begin
our devotional story with the song of
one very determined Gopi, who sings
about the profound effects the sound
of Lord Krishna’s flute had upon some
of the wives of the gods.
The Goddesses
Bhagavata Shlokas 2–3
O Gopis! When Mukunda,
the Lord of Liberation,
Rests His left cheek on His left shoulder,
He raises His right eyebrow and places
the flute on His lower lip.
He then gently runs His fingers along its
path of holes and plays enchantingly.
When the wives of the gods, the devis,
who are coursing through the sky in their
Celestial chariots with their perfected
husbands hear Krishna’s call,
They become spellbound.
They dedicate their minds and
hearts to the path of love.
Experiencing shame as the ties
at their waists loosen,
they are distraught and swoon.
Subodhini:
The Granter of Exquisite Awareness
The Gopi singing here has attained
the joy of Krishna’s worship. She
comprehends the flute’s call, Shri
Krishna’s venu nada, and because
women are foremost in devotion, the
wives of the gods are mentioned first.
She explains:
“Just see! The moment my Beloved
starts to play the flute, the goddesses who
cruise the sky in celestial chariots faint. The
sound of Shri Krishna’s flute is fivefold,
depending on the way He holds it.
When the flute is held to the left,
it awakens passion in women.
When it is held to the right, it awakens
passion in both men and women.
It awakens passion in the gods
when it is raised upward.
When held downward it creates passion
in the birds and the beasts.
When held straight it
awakens everything,
be it conscious or unconscious.

“To awaken the wives of the gods, Hari
holds the flute to the left. The question
arises: ‘Since the goddesses are superior
to humans, how can a sound coming
from the human realm infatuate them?’
“O friends! Understand that Lord
Krishna not only played the flute but
also raised His eyebrow. That eyebrow
is said to be ‘the abode of the creator
Brahma.’ If His raised eyebrow can
bring forth creation, then what can be
said of its effect upon a few goddesses?
Krishna’s lila play is divine theater. His
every movement brings enthusiasm
and fills me with the joys of devotion,
with bhava. When my Hari puts His
left cheek to His left shoulder and then
raises His right eyebrow, He becomes
spellbinding!
“Now, concerning that flute. When
He placed it on His lower lip, the abode
of yearning, it did not confer supreme
joy upon any goddess in Heaven – it
merely aroused their passions. When
they heard the flute, they experienced
the anguish of separation but could
not imbibe the bliss of God’s lila. If my
Beloved had only applied a bit more
pressure to the holes when He played,
the result could have been different.
But that is not what He did. Instead,
Shri Krishna gently placed His fingers
along the length of the flute and played
a gentle song. For nectar to arise, the
flute must first be played softly in the
lower scale. Medium pressure creates
the middle octave, and only when the
holes of the flute are pressed hard is
the higher scale achieved.”
The Gopi who sings this song
peers into God’s playground.
Possessed, she knows the subtleties
of His playground and of His flute
playing. She beholds the primal cause
behind it all is Mukunda, the granter
of enlightenment, at the very least. The
call of His flute cleanses the world and
grants liberation. It purifies the blessed
ones, consecrates them and makes them
worthy of His joyful worship.
The Gopi continues, “When the
goddesses in their celestial chariots
heard the flute, imperfect desires arose.
They are qualified as women,
They are worthy to be enjoyed,
But they do not have
the principal qualification
To taste God.
“Sitting with their godlike husbands,
those goddesses can grant everything
except God. Although excellent
singers, when they first heard the
flute’s song they became dismayed and
aroused. They were ashamed that their
husbands, who were sitting with them,
would notice their increasing desires.
They could not understand the subtle
transcendent lila and took the shelter of
mundane Cupid. Their confused minds
and hearts were offered there, placed
like a coward before a killer. Distraught
by tormenting passions, some of them
even fainted, totally unaware of their
loosened drawstrings. My friend! If the
flute can have such an overwhelming
effect on those goddesses, why should
it be of any surprise if we also swoon
from its call?”
Shyamdas has lived in Vraj, the sacred
lands of Shri Radha Krishna, for most
of his life and has written and translated
many books on devotional subjects.
http://shyamdas.com/
Shri Krishna dances the Rasa Lila with the Gopis. Everyone and everything is awakened when they hear Shri Krishna’s flute call.
January 2013
21

Śrī Govardhan Nāthjī, beloved Kŗšņa deity of the poet Rasakhān, ornamented here in a dancer’s garb
with Śrī Navanita Priyaji, Child Kŗšņa “Who loves fresh butter,” at His lotus feet.
RASAKHĀN
SHYAMDAS
Introduction
It is said that in the state of spiritual
love, one can remain without the
Beloved for up to one day, but when that
love rises to the level of attachment, the
lover can remain apart from the Beloved
for only a few hours. When attachment
matures into divine addiction, that
blessed lover cannot be separated from
the Beloved for even a moment.
These sublime states of being define
the course of blessed devotion and the
poet-saint Rasakhān’s personal path.
Devotion, or more specifically, bhakti,
is nourished by renunciation of what
is unrelated, by listening to devotional
subjects, and by singing your heart out to
God with unconditional devotion. These
are the foundational principles of úràmad
22 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
Vallabhacharya’s (ad 1479-1531 ce) Path
of Grace, the Puüôà Márga.
úrà Gusainji (úrà Vitthalnathji), the
son of úrà Vallabhacharya and guru
of Rasakhān, continued his father’s
teachings and also brought forth new
elements in the elaborate mode of divine
service to úrà Käüóa, called sevá. This
form of sevá is dedicated solely to úrà
Käüóa’s pleasure. It was being practiced
in úrà Nathji’s temple on the Govardhan
Hill when Rasakhān arrived there around
ad 1561. Rasakhān (c. 1534-1619) was
among the exalted group of úrà Gusainji’s
252 main disciples, the grace-filled souls
who were the principle recipients of the
Bhakti master’s devotional vision.
According to the Path of Grace, úrà Käüóa
adapts to the nature of His devotees, for it is
too difficult to achieve perfection through
one’s own narrow means. This truth comes
as a relief for the spiritual practitioner, or
bhakta. úrà Käüóa plays with His own souls
in a personal way, so that each is able to
clearly recognize Divinity.
The life story of Rasakhān provides
a convincing example of that profound
process. The divine exchange also allows
the practitioner to truly take refuge, and
then an array of religious experiences
arises. It is not a question of skillful
means, but rather intense yearning,
which brings the Supreme into the
practitioner’s world. This formula
allows true character to develop, often
in unusual ways, as witnessed in the life
of Rasakhān.
The foundations of both lawful and
grace-filled devotion (Maryádá and Puüôi
Bhakti) are found within the Sanskrit
teachings of the Bhagavad Gàtá. These
teachings were then more fully revealed
in the úràmad Bhágavatam. Rasakhān,
a Muslim-born, ecstatic Käüóa follower,
was able to uniquely express through
his poetry the sublime devotional views
found in those texts. Rasakhān’s lyrical
expressions grant us access to his ecstatic
realm: úrà Käüóa’s playground – the sacred
lands of Vraja. His instructional poems
teach us to prioritize our values, making
them devotional and focused on divinity.
Then, there can be transformation and
vision.
In Rasakhān’s world, the Go pàs are
the gurus. They have demonstrated
how to leave everything unnecessary
and move directly toward the Beloved.
The Gopàs provide the best examples
of devotion, because above all else, they
desired the Lord of Sweetness. They
simply forgot all other illusions and
became solely attached to God. They
became recipients of nirodha, the blessed
state of continual God-awareness. Their
every motion and emotion was perfectly
fixated on úrà Käüóa.
Rasakhān entered deeply into the Gopàs’
realizations and sometimes even described
his experiences from their vantage point.
His poems are filled with astounding
sounds, meanings, and unexpected
conclusions, all of which propel the reader
into a “Käüóa awakening.”
Throughout Rasakhān’s work, the
diversity of his beloved Käüóa’s loving
plays and sublime character unfold.
He leads us from Child Käüóa’s
adorable antics to úrà Käüóa’s ultimate
union with the beautiful Rádhá. He

employs emotions that are common
in the world, but finds in them their
eternal, divine counterparts.
Rasakhān is not interested in enlightenment,
a path which he considers
selfish. Instead, he urges us to find
our true essence as eternal parts of
the Infinite and to become followers
of the Lord, lovers of the Beloved. In
his inimitable style, Rasakhān uses úrà
Käüóa’s own tongue of Vrája Bháüá to
express the Blessed Path as well as its
divine goal. He shows us that whenever
there is pure love, the means becomes
the reward. As Rasakhān explains, once
you are in God’s orbit, you cannot forget
Him, even if you try.
Rasakhān’s rhyme and alliteration
make his poems delightful just to hear.
His language, although set in a village
vernacular, is elegant and witty. He is
famous for concluding his poems with
an unexpected revelation. His writings
are precious, as they are infused with
insights that inspire us to join him on a
love pilgrimage to a domain beyond even
liberation. The astonishing is found in
the ordinary as Rasakhān celebrates the
joys of úrà Käüóa’s loving worship.
Rasakhān’s remarkable poems have
always been an inspiration to me.
I live for some months every year in the
town of Gokul, where Rasakhān lived,
as well as in Jatipura, where úrà Nathji’s
temple stands on top of the sacred
Govardhan Hill. It was here in Jatipura
that Rasakhān first beheld his beloved
Käüóa and his guru, úrà Gusainji.
This text was completed with the
help of Dr. David Haberman and Käüóa
Kinkari, both lovers of Rasakhān’s
revelations and the sacred lands of Vraja.
I have had the pleasure of wandering
Vraja with both of them; our respect
and love for Rasakhān’s poetry brought
us together.
What incredible truths Rasakhān
discovered! He was truly independent,
and his words inspire us to find our own
unique relationship with the Supreme.
He gives us the confidence that it could
happen for us as well. Personally, I feel
aligned with Rasakhān. Like me, he
was born outside of Hindu society, yet
he penetrated its core. He consciously
rejected anything from Hindu and
Islamic tradition that was not true to
the dharma of his own soul.
In devotion, the fastest way to
understand something is through
emulating the ways of someone who
has already attained the exalted state.
I have chosen Rasakhān as my guide
and inspiration. These translations of
his poems are my personal salute to his
rarified attainments.
The Life of Rasakhān
Taken from 252 Vaishnavas, Part 3
Rasakhān is a ra j a s bhakta, and in
the Làlá he is Rasasiddha. He was
born in this world as a Muslim in Delhi.
Rasakhān was very attracted to the son
of a wealthy Hindu merchant and could
not remain without him. He would eat the
remains of whatever that boy ate or drank.
He was totally infatuated with him. The
other members of Rasakhān’s clan were
disturbed by this and questioned, “Why
do you eat the leftovers of that Hindu
boy? You are an outcast.”
Rasakhān replied, “What can I do?
But if you say another word to me
on the subject, I will kill you.” People
feared Rasakhān, and he continued his
relationship with the Hindu boy for
many years.
Once, two bhaktas visited Delhi, and
after observing Rasakhān they mentioned
to each other, “Rasakhān’s attachment to
that Hindu boy truly demonstrates the
meaning of attachment. He cannot live
without that boy and always chases after
him. Rasakhān is not only shameless but
also unconcerned about what others think
about him. Anyone who can develop that
level of attachment to God would attain
spiritual perfection in a moment.”
Meanwhile, the love-intoxicated
Rasakhān was standing nearby and
suspected that the two men were
speaking about him. He approached
them and asked, “Were you just talking
about me?”
The two bhaktas became concerned
and replied, “We were just talking to
each other.”
Rasakhān threatened, “Tell me the
truth and I will let you live, otherwise I
will kill you both. Now tell me what you
were saying!”
Rasakhān then pulled out a knife, and
the two terrified men began to explain,
“We were just saying that if you could
be as attached to úrà Nathji as you are
to that Hindu boy, you would become
devotionally enlightened.”
“Who is this úrà Nathji you speak of?”
Rasakhān asked. “I know nothing about
Him.”
“This entire world is just a part of His
manifestation,” one of the bhaktas said.
When Rasakhān questioned, “How
can I know Him?” one of the men
pulled a small painting of úrà Nathji
from his turban. In this painting,
the Blessed Lord was adorned with a
peacock-feather crown and the garb of
a dancer. As soon as Rasakhān saw the
painting, his heart became wed to úrà
Nathji, and tears poured from his eyes.
At that moment, all of his infatuation
with the Hindu boy vanished.
The great teacher, úrà Harirayaji later
commented: In this account it is shown
that attachment is a very important part of
the devotional dharma. Pure attachment,
even to something worldly, can transform
itself and lead the soul to God. Rasakhān’s
attachment to that Hindu boy was pure,
and therefore he was able to transfer it to
úrà Nathji.
Rasakhān immediately questioned,
“Where does this Lord live?”
The bhaktas replied, “He lives in
Braja.”
Rasakhān then demanded, “Give me
that painting so that I will never forget
Him.”
The bhakta reflected, “This Rasakhān
appears to be a divine soul, otherwise
how could his mind and heart become
transformed and so attracted to úrà
Nathji?” He gave the painting of úrà
Nathji to Rasakhān, who immediately
headed out toward Braja.
Wherever he came across a
temple, Rasakhān would go inside
to see if the Lord depicted in the
painting was there, but he could not find
úrà Nathji anywhere. When Rasakhān
eventually arrived in Braja, he first went
to Vrindavan and then Mathura. He
January 2013
23

looked everywhere for úrà Nathji, but
he could not find Him in any temple.
Finally, he went to the Govardhan Hill.
As he climbed up toward úrà Nathji’s
temple, a call sounded from the temple
for úrà Nathji’s flower garland to be
brought to the temple. Many other
bhaktas also made their way up the
hill to see úrà Nathji. Rasakhān was so
excited that he started to run up the
Govardhan Hill, but when he reached
the temple gates, the door guard, a local
Braja man, pushed him aside and did
not allow him entrance.
Rasakhān then sadly climbed down
the hill and went to the Govinda Lake,
where he pondered, “I was allowed into
every other Hindu temple, but not this
one. I am sure that úrà Nathji lives here,
but He is well protected.”
Rasakhān just sat by the Govinda
Lake and gazed toward úrà Nathji’s
temple. He vowed to himself, “I will not
go anywhere until I see Him.” Rasakhān
was unaware of hunger or thirst. He just
sat there for two days.
On the third day, after úrà Nathji’s
midday Rájá Bhoga darshan, when the
temple was closed for the afternoon, úrà
Nathji reflected, “This Rasakhān is not
even aware of his body. He has not eaten
anything for three days and will leave his
body if I do not do something.”
úrà Nathji became filled with
compassion. He took off all of His ornamentation
and adorned Himself exactly
as He appeared in Rasakhān’s painting.
Then, accompanied by His band of cow
24 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
lads, úrà Nathji climbed to the top of the
Govardhan Hill and began to play His
flute. As soon as Rasakhān heard the call,
He recognized that it was his Lord. When
he looked up and saw úrà Nathji, he knew,
“That is Him!”
He then ran up the hill, chasing after
úrà Nathji. When Rasakhān tried to
grab Him, the Blessed Lord disappeared
from his sight and went to Gokul to
discuss the matter with úrà Gusainji.
At that time, úrà Gusainji had just
taken his meals and was napping. úrà
Nathji appeared in úrà Gusainji’s room
and awoke the bhakti master by stroking
his hair. When úrà Gusainji got up and
saw úrà Nathji beside him, he placed his
hand on úrà Nathji’s face and said to
him in Sanskrit, “You are the Remover
of Your followers’ afflictions.”
rà Nathji then told úrà Gusainji,
ú“There
is one divine soul whose
name is Rasakhān. Although he was
born as a Muslim, he desires to know
Me and has been fasting by the Govinda
Lake for three days. He has not eaten
or even taken any water. Today, when I
gave him My darùan, He tried to grab
Me. I ran away and came to discuss this
matter with you. Now you should come
up to My temple on the Govardhan Hill
and initiate Rasakhān. Accept him.”
úrà Gusainji then asked, “Why did
You run away from him?”
úrà Nathji explained, “I have promised
to only touch, speak to, and accept
the food offered by those souls whom
you have initiated with the Brahmá
Sambandha mantra. I will not give those
blessings without your intervention.”
úrà Gusainji was pleased to hear the
Blessed Lord’s words. He quickly got
up, went to the banks of the Yamuna
River, and took a boat across. On the
other side of the river, he mounted his
horse, rode toward the Govardhan Hill,
and proceeded directly to the Govinda
Lake, where Rasakhān was sitting.
As soon as Rasakhān saw úrà Gusainji,
he thought, “This man who just got
down from his horse seems to be a close
friend of my Lord Who lives on top of
the Govardhan Hill.” He approached úrà
Gusainji and said, “My Lord lives in that
house on the Hill. I am very attached to
Him. I also know that you are his close
associate. If you would let me meet
Him, that would be truly grand.”
úrà Gusainji was delighted with
Rasakhān’s words and asked him, “How
do you know that He is my friend?”
Rasakhān replied, “When you came
here, I saw that your eyes were fixated
on His temple.”
úrà Gusainji then told him, “Now
bathe in the Govinda Lake.”
After Rasakhān returned from his bath,
the bhakti master gave him initiation
into the Path of Grace. úrà Gusainji
told his assistant to take Rasakhān up
to the temple, and he himself climbed
up to úrà Nathji’s temple and sounded
the awakening conch. After the temple
opened, úrà Gusainji prepared some
fruits for úrà Nathji’s early afternoon
Shyamdasji’s guru,
H.H. Shri Prathameshji,
performing his daily
sandhya and homa rites.

offering. A short while later, Rasakhān
entered úrà Nathji’s temple and was
delighted to once again behold his
Beloved úrà Nathji.
As Rasakhān was leaving the temple,
úrà Nathji came out of His shrine room,
grabbed hold of Rasakhān’s arm and said,
“Hey you! Where are you going?”
From that day on, whenever úrà
Nathji went out to herd His cows,
He always took Rasakhān with Him.
Rasakhān composed hundreds of poems
about the divine experiences úrà Nathji
blessed him with. Rasakhān went on to
attain the perfect devotion exemplified
by the Gopàs of Vrindavan. He was úrà
Gusainji’s blessed follower. To what
extent can this account be praised?
Selections from
The Poems of Rasakhān
Treasure House of Love
Translated by Shyamdas,
Krishna Kinkari & David Haberman,
Edited by Vallabhdas,
© Pratham Peeth Publications 2007
Shiva chants Krishna’s names and
the Creator meditates on Him
to increase his own dharma.
If the unconscious fool
contemplates Him for a moment
in his heart, he becomes
a repository of wisdom.
The gods, demons, and
women of this world
offer Him their lives and
discover the vitality of life.
But the dairymaids of
Vrindavan can make Him
dance for a sip of buttermilk
from the palm of their hands!
f
The gods Shesh, Ganesh, Mahesh,
Suresh and Dinesh
constantly sing of Him
Who is beginningless,
endless, unlimited,
indestructible, void of difference,
and revealed in the Vedas.
Narada, Sukha and Vyasa
are exhausted
from searching for Him.
They can never fathom
His limits.
But the dairymaids of
Vrindavan can make Him
dance for a sip of buttermilk
from the palm of their hands!
f
Celestial nymphs and
heavenly bards
hear and then sing
His praises.
Sharada and the
serpant god Shesh
all sing His glories.
Ganesh recites His
innumerable names
while Brahma and Shiva
cannot fathom His limits.
Yogis, renunciates,
ascetics and the pure saints
meditate on Him
in endless trance.
But the dairymaids of
Vrindavan can make Him
dance for a sip of buttermilk
from the palm of their hands!
f
Brahma and the other gods
always meditate on Him.
The yogis cannot find His end.
The thousand-headed serpent Shesha
chants His Names from
morning to night, and then
from night to morning.
The great sage Narada
searches for Him
Traversing the world
playing his vina.
But the dairymaids of
Vrindavan can make Him
dance for a sip of buttermilk
from the palm of their hands!
f
Krishna’s elephant gait,
gunja bead necklace,
and peacock crown
totally delights my mind.
He is the swarthy son of Nanda
and everyone calls him
the “Champion of Vraja.”
He is simply the best,
the adornment of His clan
and I cannot adequately
describe His splendor.
But the dairymaids of
Vrindavan can make Him
dance for a sip of buttermilk
from the palm of their hands!
f
Searching for Brahman
I have searched for
the Supreme Brahman
in the Puranic songs.
From listening to Vedic verse
my desire for Him
has increased fourfold.
But nowhere have I
ever seen or even heard
of His real form or nature.
Cries Rasakhān,
“I am exhausted from my
calls and search.
No man or woman
can even describe Him!
Then I beheld Him, Krishna
sitting in a secret love-bower,
massaging Radha’s feet.”
f
True use of the Body
The true voice
sings His praises.
The true ear is filled
with His words.
The true hand
adorns His body.
The true feet follow Him.
The true life accompanies Him.
The true honor is
comforting Him
Who is Rasakhān,
the Fountain of Joy,
The storehouse of love,
the blissful Krishna.
January 2013
25

Shyamdas with H.H. Shri Prathameshji in Vermont 1989
OCEAN OF
GRACE
From the Introduction to the book
Ocean of Grace: The Teachings of
H.H. Shri Prathameshji
SHYAMDAS
had the extreme pleasure of
I living with His Holiness Goswami
Prathameshji, a direct descendant of
úrà Vallabhacharya and the head of the
first seat of the Vallabh Sampradaya,
for eighteen years. Although his
physical form disappeared from
this world in 1990, Prathameshji’s
devotional teachings remain with us.
His knowledge was vast. He was a
pundit of Äyurveda, Vedánta, as well
as the úràmad Bhágavatam. He was
a master of Sanskrit, Urdu, Gujarati,
and Brajabhasha languages and an
accomplished classical musician.
Prathameshji masterfully played
the tabla and pakhavaja drums,
harmonium, sitar, flute, and even
sarangi, but most of all, it is the way
he sang Dhrupada-Dhamar devotional
kirtan songs that still resonates
throughout my being. He was a
master of “Lila kirtan.” His life and
songs emerged from the eternal realm
and somehow manifested here in this
26 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
world. His being was full of Lilamood.
As he once told me, “To sing
of the Lilas of Hari is the fastest flight
to God.”
On the evening of His Holiness’ birth
in 1930, the outline of úrà Käüóa’s lotus
footprints appeared, in red powder, on
the floor of his father’s temple courtyard
in Jatipura. His father, Goswami
Dwarkeshji Maharaja, commented at
that time, “He will certainly be a very
powerful lineage holder.” By the time
His Holiness was fifteen, he was already
an accomplished pundit, speaker, and
musician. I had the fortune of meeting
him in his home in Jatipura, near
Vrindavan, when he was forty-three
years old. I was nineteen.
His Holiness gave me many teachings
and amazing explanations of his lineage,
the blessed Path of Grace. Whenever
he spoke, the meaning of the words
filled my heart. My greatest pleasure
was to be around him. Some years later,
having noticed that His Holiness kept
many accomplished scholars, musicians,
Ayurvedic doctors, and artists around
him, I asked him, “Why do you keep
me around?”
He answered, “Your position here is
to simply hang out and shoot the breeze
with me!” I felt very blessed to be given
that appointment. After living with
Goswami Prathameshji for several years
and reflecting upon his empowerments,
I came to understand that the most
important thing is not how much you
know, but how to apply your wisdom
to devotion.
A conversation between
His Holiness and Shyamdas
Shyamdas When does mánasà sevá
(constant, natural mental absorption
into the Lord) occur: in the state of love,
attachment, or addiction to the Lord?
HH It can appear anywhere. It is free of
all restrictions.
SD What is the difference between the
yogi’s samádhi, the perfect meditative
absorption, and the bhakta’s mánasà sevá?
HH There is a difference. The yogi takes
samádhi for his own benefit, while the
bhakta enters the state of mánasà sevá for
the Lord’s pleasure. The yogi forgets himself,
while the bhakta remembers himself.
Since the Primal Being has created
everything, why waste time making
distinctions? He is all three forms:
ádhideva (Divine Person), ádhyátmika
(formless spiritual force), and ádhibhâta
(the manifested world).
One who has not seen the Divine Person
will deny that He exists, while those who
have seen Him will confirm His reality. úrà
Käüóa is both the first person’s concept of
non-existence as well as the other person’s
devotional realization, but the former, the
pure formless Brahman, is not the goal of
devotional practice.
SD When Sanatan Goswami insulted
the formless abode, the goal of the
impersonalist, by saying that it was not
worthy of attainment, úrà Vallabhacharya
corrected him. He told Sanatan Goswami
that he should not insult the formless,
because it is one of the forms of the Lord.
Sanatan Goswami’s guru, úrà Chaitanya,
agreed with úrà Vallabhacharya and
reprimanded his disciple.
HH But we are able to give loving insults
to Sákára, the Supreme with form during
the festival of Holi, so what is wrong with
insulting the formless? [Laughter]
SD That is all on a divinely inspired level,
but what about on the philosophical
level?
HH On the level of non-dual,

Brahmaváda philosophy, in which
everything is God and nothing but God,
what can be wrong with the formless?
Why should there be a distinction of
higher and lower? That cannot exist in
the state of love.
Those who believe only in the
formless sometimes insult people who
worship the divine form, and vice
versa. It’s that type of relationship.
They fight and then love each other,
something like how a husband and wife
or brothers quarrel. What can you do?
Even after a disagreement, they still live
together! The same is true here. In this
respect, úrà Vallabhacharya is extremely
broadminded and difficult to fully
comprehend. Know that true dharma
exists within the devotional heart,
not in the brain. úrà Vallabhacharya
was able to accept every situation that
occurred within the world as God’s
sport, something many others had
difficulty doing.
SD Why wasn’t there a teacher like him
before?
HH Why should we worry about that?
When Bhagavan wishes, it all occurs.
That is the only answer. Some years back
there were no potatoes in India, and now,
they have come. If you get too caught up
in how they came, then you will not be
able to even enjoy the ones that are here.
Besides, what explanation can you really
give? It will just end up spinning you all
around. What is the use?
SD In order to reach Lord Käüóa, isn’t it
necessary to first go through the formless
spiritual realm?
HH The only order is the Lord’s call. If
a worldly person in a position of power
is able to grant things, then imagine what
the Lord can do! He is the power of all
powers, the regulator and the regulations,
the practitioner and the practice. He
is all forms, above and below. He can
make us sit anywhere. If He wants to
give a promotion, He simply does. For
this reason, one should never be jealous.
The Lord can say, “Even though you are
a perfected yogi, when you come to Me,
you will have to bow.”
You have to follow His rules, just like
you have to follow the rules of the world.
Imagine that you are a big pundit, much
more knowledgeable than even your
father. Still, when you come to your father,
you must give him respect, because that is
the code. There is no other way, unless you
want to change the entire arrangement,
and then the whole structure could fall
down. Why make it fall?
SD You would have to accept that the
outer form of the Path of Grace changes
with time. In the future it will change
some more. For instance, today there is
electricity in the temples. Before, the only
light was from ghee lamps.
HH Yes, there is a difference between
moonlight and a bulb. That will remain. If
you want to see the forest in the moonlight,
would you place a lot of lamps there? Of
course not! It would ruin everything. We
are now able to create such disturbances,
but light’s soft sweetness is found more in
a candle or ghee lamp then in a glaring
bulb. People leave their homes to visit the
jungle; their nature compels them to.
Movie producers may spend millions
in order to create the proper mood, so
that, for example, we will believe that the
actress in the movie is really Cleopatra.
Within the world, there are atoms, and
from them we have been able to produce
atomic power. The bhakta creates things
from common reality that will enable him
or her to grasp the divine reality.
SD In sevá, what is the difference between
the means and the fruit in terms of our
devotional sentiments?
HH If you are going to Bombay from
Calcutta, on the way you will pass the
Nagpur station. There you might stop
and drink some coconut milk, but you
will not forget that your actual goal is to
reach Bombay.
SD If you see someone else drinking
coconut milk in the Nagpur station,
should you remind him to continue on
to Bombay instead of drinking coconut
milk?
HH Well, if he drinks too much coconut
milk for too long, he may forget whether
he is there to drink coconut milk or just
stopping there on the way to Bombay.
SD And if the train leaves?
HH He stays in Nagpur.
SD And if another train comes?
HH If his goal is forgotten, then he
remains in Nagpur.
SD If you see such a stray person in
Nagpur station without a ticket, should
you provide him with one?
HH If he wants to go, then give him a
ticket.
SD But is the soul able to give the ticket,
or only God?
HH Only when the Lord inspires both the
giver and the receiver can it occur. In the
same way, people are inspired to manifest
dharma.
SD So there should be no anxious feelings
to reach Bombay. Can’t one enjoy the
journey?
HH Yes. Those who are in a hurry will not
enjoy the journey. If I am flying in a plane,
my goal is to reach the destination. The
plane’s goal is to fly in the air. Whatever
one’s goal is, so they achieve. What do
you want to do, to drink coconut milk or
reach Bombay?
SD Both.
HH You must make up your mind, which
one do you really want?
SD In the Path of Grace, can’t you have
both? If you have no nourishment, then
how can there be grace?
HH The goal is grace. If eating prevents
you from reaching your goal, then don’t
eat. If eating takes you there, then eat.
SD So people may spend lifetimes at
many stations before reaching.
HH Yes. After one destination is reached,
then another is seen. But with proper faith
and conviction, the proper destination can
be known.
SD According to Brahmaváda, which
teaches that all is God and nothing but
God, all the stations – Calcutta, Nagpura
and Bombay – are Brahman. And so, are
there no real distinctions between the fruit
and the means?
HH A fruitful outlook, directed toward
the true destination, overcomes all false
distinctions.
January 2013
27

THE GOVARDHAN LĪLĀ
SHYAMDAS
úrà Käüóa transforms the minds and hearts of the cowherds, so that they became totally focused on divinity
úRÅ KÉûîA and the other residents
of Braja were dairy people who
lived on milk products from their cows.
They concluded that their happiness
and well-being were entirely dependent
upon the rain, which nourished the grass
their cows consumed. As a result, over
the years the people of Braja developed
a tradition of honoring the rain god,
Indra. Every fall they offered Indra a
sacrifice, with the limited expectation
that the rain-god would supply them
with sufficient rainfall.
For six years, úrà Käüóa watched the
cowherds perform the sacrifice that they
had dreamt up in honor of Indra. This
sacrifice was not Vedic, nor did it follow
any proper enlightened lineage. Dharma
can never be contrived, and spiritual
practice must always be authentic.
Gopal, the indweller of all hearts,
knew that one attains whatever one
honors. So when He turned seven years
old, He decided it was time to turn His
fellow cowherds’ minds away from Indra
and towards His glorious self, the single
source of all blessings, the origin of all
divinities, as well as the inner and outer
controller of all things. By doing so, He
encouraged them to worship the root of
every cause, rather than water each leaf
of the tree. In this manner they would
experience God’s extensive blessings.
Although the cowlads were basically
focused on úrà Käüóa, their hearts
were not firmly set upon Him. Their
partial devotion obstructed them
from entering deeply into the state of
nirodha, a blessed condition they had
just begun to experience. Hari therefore
schemed this new làlá to remove their
inferior dedications.
úrà Käüóa wanted to bring His
kinsmen to their natural devotional
bhakti path. By removing their spiritual
misconceptions, He enabled them to
proceed more deeply into the mysteries
28 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
of God’s playground. Only after the
dormant seed of knowledge within the
heart is awakened can the nectar of
devotion be tasted.
Gopal saw that his father,
Nanda Baba, was preparing to
dedicate his actions and wealth to Indra
again, with the limited expectation
of plentiful rainfall. He approached
Nanda Baba and asked, “Father, what
is the fruit of Indra’s sacrifice that you
are so eagerly preparing for? Is this all
for some sort of worldly gain?”
By questioning the nature of the
sacrifice, its materials and rewards,
úrà Käüóa inspired an upgrade in that
practice and thereby promoted divine
awareness. He continued, “Father,
know that the actions of a thoughtless
man do not produce a true reward. The
truly reflective individual is crowned
by his actions.”
Nanda Baba replied, “But Käüóa, we
worship Indra to attain religious virtue,
enjoyment, as well as worldly wealth!”
Our actions and spiritual practices
can be done with the aim of achieving
a specific, visible goal, or they can be
performed for the sake of the action
itself. The latter practice is selfless,
devoid of hankering, and is performed
for His pleasure. The reward of such a
focused, yet detached, undertaking is
always subtle, exalted and immaterial.
Young Käüóa smiled and continued,
“The qualities of rajas, sattva, and
tamas are the cause of the appearance,
continuation, and dissolution of
creation. Impelled by the qualities of
rajas, the clouds shower rainwater.
What does Indra have to do with it?
He is incapable of altering the course of
events, for everything arises according
to its unique constitution.
“We own no cities, territories, villages
or even homes. We live in this forest
abode by the side of the Govardhan
Hill. Let us honor this area and the
items we are blessed with here. Now,
take the materials you were going to use
for Indra’s sacrifice and employ them
in the worship of the Govardhan Hill.
Let a variety of foods, made with rice
and wheat, be offered and then fed to
absolutely everyone and all animals.
Then everyone will circumambulate
the cows, the Brahmins, as well as the
Govardhan Hill. This form of devotional
worship is very dear to me. Now perform
this Vaiüóava sacrifice.”
In this way úrà Käüóa not only directed
His people’s minds and hearts towards
His blessed self, for Govardhan is His
very form, but He also managed to incur
Indra’s wrath, as was necessary for the
làlá to unfold. This làlá was both for the
spiritual development of His associates
and to remove Indra’s false pride.
Nanda Baba and the other residents
decided to follow úrà Käüóa’s advice.
Many types of grains were cooked and
offered to the Govardhan Hill, and fresh
grasses were given to the cows. After the
residents of Braja adorned themselves
and encircled the Govardhan Hill,
amazing Käüóa manifested another
form out of His blessed being. This time
He appeared as the personified, divine
form of the mountain itself! úrà Käüóa
clearly became the Govardhan Hill.
Then Käüóa worshipped Käüóa, and He
partook of the offerings right before
their very eyes!
After the sacrifice was completed,
the people of Braja returned home
with their minds and hearts full of pure
conviction. The puffed up rain god
Indra, however, was not happy to lose
his yearly offerings. Just after young
Käüóa completed the sacrifice to the
Govardhan Hill, Indra commenced to
display his displeasure. He commanded
the rain clouds that he reserved for

universal destruction, “Go and sink
the lands of Braja! While sitting on my
elephant Airávata, I will destroy these
arrogant people, who have foolishly
taken the shelter of that cowlad Käüóa.
They have all offended me!”
As jealous Indra’s torrential rains and
winds began to overwhelm the people
of Braja, they all sought úrà Käüóa’s
shelter. The blessed one consoled them:
“Don’t worry. With my divine powers,
I will protect Braja and all of her
residents. You are my true family.” úrà
Käüóa then raised the Govardhan Hill
with one hand, like a child would hold
a small umbrella, and told His people,
“Everyone, come with your cows and
take shelter beneath the mountain! Have
no fear, it will not fall from my hand.
Your protection from Indra’s torrents is
now ensured.”
For seven days, úrà Käüóa stood
holding the mountain, like a flower,
with one finger of His left hand, while
the residents of Braja all looked on with
amazement. They felt neither thirst nor
hunger during that time. Indra then
realized that his destructive program
was futile, and he withdrew his clouds.
As the skies cleared, úrà Käüóa gently
returned the mountain to its original
position and told everyone, “Now,
fearlessly return home.”
The people of Braja were transported
by the play and embraced their lovely
Lord. The Gopàs honored their beloved
by showering Him with rice, curds and
their blessings, while the heavenly gods
showered flowers on them. Then úrà
Käüóa returned home, surrounded by
His cowlads, while the Gopàs continued
to sing and remember His glories.
The raising of the Govardhan Hill
had a two-fold purpose. Primarily, úrà
Käüóa wanted to enhance the devotion of
His blessed followers. For their devotion
to blossom, they needed to abandon
all inferior shelters. úrà Käüóa therefore
manifested His eminence, by appearing
as the Govardhan Hill and accepting the
food offerings of the bhaktas.
By offering the fruits of their actions
to the Govardhan Hill, úrà Käüóa’s
very form, the bhaktas’ connections
to hypocritical practices were all
eliminated, and their soulful surrender
was assured. Through their devotional
sacrifice, His devotees wholeheartedly
took the blessed shelter. They became
Käüóa-focused, and the blessed path of
devotion became an effortless affair for
them. Know that the cowherds attained
úrà Käüóa’s refuge only after they
relinquished contrary understandings
and supports.
In this làlá, Hari fulfilled his
Upaniüadic pledge, “Those who choose
me, attain.” As He defended Braja from
all forms of obstructions, similarly, Hari
pledges to protect those who take His
shelter. Whomever úrà Käüóa holds will
never fall. He assures His followers,
“I protect my bhaktas and will never
abandon them. My followers will never
be destroyed. I make them fearless.”
A practitioner becomes free from
conflict when the internal winds, the
práóas, are brought under control.
In this episode, úrà Käüóa controlled
Indra’s powerful winds and then freed
His devotees from adversity. In this way,
He established His blessed self firmly in
their souls. But before He entered their
inner beings, úrà Käüóa enjoyed their
offerings here in this world.
Although úrà Käüóa had removed
the cowlads’ ignorance and brought
them further into the blessed state of
nirodha by lifting up the Govardhan
Hill, they still wondered how the young
lad performed so many amazing deeds.
They asked, “How did úrà Käüóa knock
over that huge cart when He was just
three months old? Then, as a mere
infant, He killed the demon Täóávarta
and brought down two huge Arjuna
trees! When úrà Käüóa began herding
cows, He killed several other demons
January 2013
29

that assailed Him in the forms of a
heron, a calf and a donkey. He also rid
the Yamuná River of that poisonous
snake Káliya. How could such an
amazing one be born amongst a group
of simple cowherds like us?”
Nanda Baba removed their doubts
by relating the following story. “After
Käüóa’s birth, the sage Garga explained
to me that my son is the lord himself. The
sage told me that the blessed one appears
in different yugas, with various names
and forms, and has now manifested as
my son, úrà Käüóa. He assured me that
‘He will bring happiness to those who
love Him.’ Garga also said to me, ‘Your
son, úrà Käüóa is like Lord Náráyaóa in
splendor, fame and glory.’”
The cowherds were confused, because
they did not understand how úrà Käüóa
could maintain every virtue and still
appear as a child. Nanda’s words made
them understand that while úrà Käüóa is
perfectly full of lordship, potency, fame,
beauty, knowledge and renunciation,
He also does whatever He wants. That is
how—although He is divine and beyond
anything material—úrà Käüóa can also
become a child. He is the lord of Lakümà,
as well as the master of liberation. All of His
manifestations are true and appear for the
sake of His devotees. The blessed one can
easily support all forms of contradiction.
Hearing Nanda Baba’s words, all of the
cowherds’ doubts were removed, and they
honored both Nanda Baba and úrà Käüóa.
Now they had not only heard about Hari’s
glories, but had also witnessed them,
gathering the final proof.
second purpose of Hari’s
A Govardhan Hill làlá was to remove
Indra’s false pride. Although úrà Käüóa
had established Indra in his rain-god
position, Indra forgot this fact and
imagined that he was lord of the world.
After Gopal balanced the Govardhan
Hill on a single finger for seven days,
Indra was truly humbled and reflected,
“I clearly am not the boss. úrà Käüóa
is the lord of all gods. In my great
ignorance, I tried to destroy Braja with
my winds and torrents.” In this way, úrà
Käüóa compassionately removed Indra’s
conceit without destroying him.
Indra then went to Braja with his
30 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
divine, wish-fulfilling cow, Surabhà.
He came before úrà Käüóa, who was
sitting alone near the Govardhan Hill.
Humbled and full of shame, Indra
placed his head, adorned with a crown
as bright as the sun, at úrà Käüóa’s lotus
feet. He then praised the immortal lord
in ten lines, and thereby purified his ten
práóas, his vital breaths, which he had
misappropriated for his own material
gain. He finally understood that
they should have been used in Hari’s
divine service. Indra’s indiscretion had
caused his práóas to lose their divine
connection, and when he became
blinded with arrogance, he could no
longer see his true self.
Indra humbly bowed and praised
úrà Käüóa’s form and virtues, “You are
pure essence, untouched by anything
physical. úrà Käüóa, you are forever
free from all forms of greed. You wield
the rod of punishment, but are also
the father, the guru, as well as the
supreme ruler of all creations. For the
good of the world, You play at will
and curb the pride of the arrogant. O
Lord, forgive me, immersed as I was in
the pride of wealth and power. I was
ignorant of your greatness. Although
you are beyond sense perception, You
are devoted to the welfare of those who
are faithful to your lotus feet. Glories to
you, inner controller of all! You embody
pure consciousness and are the soul of
all living beings. Now that my pride
has been sundered, I seek you, supreme
ruler, as my sole refuge.”
úrà Käüóa heard Indra’s prayer,
laughed, and replied, “Those who are
blinded by pride will never take notice
of me. I stopped your sacrifice to enable
you to always remember me. My grace
truly arises when I remove obstructing
prosperity. Now return to your abode,
and carry on your works according to
your qualifications.”
Surabhà, the celestial cow, then
extolled úrà Käüóa, “O great yogi, soul
of creation! We are favored by you,
the true lord. Unlike Indra, you are
continually absorbed in a single divine
nectar. You are the supreme ruler and
protector of the cows and bhaktas.
Now, with a celestial bath of milk, we
honor you as our king.” From that day,
úrà Käüóa became known as Govinda,
“Lord of the Cows.”
Then Indra’s elephant, Airávata,
brought the Gaïgá River down from the
heavens, and with Indra’s assistance, they
honored úrà Käüóa with a ceremonial
bath. In the celebration that followed,
the gods sang while the celestial dancers
danced. Flowers showered from the
heavens, and the entire world became
drenched in supreme bliss. The earth
overflowed with milk from the cows,
and the rivers rushed with nectar. Trees
oozed honey, and crops appeared on
unplowed lands. Gems rose to the
surface of mountains, and enemies
became friends.
úRÅ KÉûîA always forgives those
who take His shelter. The penalties
He administers are not for destruction,
but to correct His people so that they
will turn towards Him. úrà Käüóa is
the Lord of all regions and fulfills the
desires of the devotional heart. His
blessings extend to all realms.
Hari protects His bhaktas and subdues
the false pride of His followers. But His
lotus feet cannot be attained until we
become humble. The beloved always
responds to the devotee’s humility; it is the
most important of all spiritual virtues.
Wherever úrà Käüóa resides, there can
be no anger. He is the supreme wealth.
Not only does He reside within all
beings, but He also is the single force
behind every accomplishment. He
inspires every heart, and those who take
His shelter become like Him—totally
exalted. úrà Käüóa is unimpeded and
free from disparity.
úrà Vallabhácárya praises Him,
“Glories to úrà Käüóa, the doer of
wonderful deeds, who played the world
into existence by dividing form and
name (ùástrártha nibandha).” Creation is
His very form and is therefore sacred.
As Vásudeva, He awards liberation,
but when He becomes úrà Käüóa, He
is both the means and the blessed
reward—full of truth, consciousness and
mostly bliss. He is wisdom personified.
Hari plays to bring His bhaktas towards
His blissful self. By simply playing with
His devotees, Hari awarded them an
independent, love-based devotion.

YAMUNA’S
STORY
SHYAMDAS
few years ago, I made a pilgrimage
A to Yamnotri, the source of the
Yamuna River high in the Himalayas.
It is a wonderful spot, with thermal
springs and enchanting forests, where it
snows seven months of the year. From
there, I appreciated the vision of Sri
Yamunaji flowing from the nectarine
heart of Narayan, the sun god. After she
cascades brilliantly from the summit of
Kalindi Mountain, she flows furiously
towards Vrindavan, the abode of her
beloved, Krishna.
On the plains below the Himalayas,
within the sacred lands of Braja, Sri
Yamunaji’s most ardently devotional
form can be seen. This is why I now
choose to live by her banks in this sacred
realm, in the small town of Gokul. I
often wander these banks, reflecting on
the nature of her divinity and on the
perfect results of Hari’s creation. And by
her waters, it becomes very clear that the
world is not simply an illusion. Mayic
illusion results from a false perception
and conceals the true quality of the thing
itself. Creation seen correctly becomes a
divine play, a lila, and Sri Yamunaji is in
charge of the lila arrangements wherein
every virtue finds a place in her service.
By her flowing current, all life seems to
be especially alive.
Sri Yamunaji has three forms: she is
a river, seen by all; a purifier, known by
her followers; and a grace goddess, seen
by her blessed bhaktas. The river, the
transformer and the personified grace
goddess all exist within each other and
are truly a single form. Not only is Sri
Yamunaji Lord Krishna’s most beloved,
but she also freely shares that sacred
relationship with her bhaktas. When
her waves lap her banks and spread their
waters across the sands, at that moment
is it possible to see shiny, pearly bangles
adorning her hands and the high banks
become her hips. This divine form of
Sri Yamuna is held to be nirguna, that
is she transcends every material virtue
and is comprised solely of pure ananda,
or bliss. She is Hari’s beloved and grants
sacred relationship to her bhaktas.
Sri Yamunaji takes on numerous
forms to relate with each of her yearning
bhaktas uniquely. Because she is a
grace goddess and unlike other rivers
that flow into the ocean, Sri Yamunaji
flows directly into Sri Krishna’s bliss
form, and like him, becomes replete
with lordliness, potency, fame, beauty,
wisdom and renunciation.
By her banks, I have come to realize
some of the differences between lawful
practices and those that are grace-filled.
Paths that follow particular rules and
practices necessarily involve a review of
our precision throughout, whereas the
grace-filled path is different; it moves
as an unrestricted flood of favor. Lawful
practice is attained; grace is given. Just
as India is the locus of various currents
that converge both within her lands and
within her devotees’ hearts, those who
are on the path of grace revere the lawful
flow only after it is mixed with grace,
otherwise pride of practice may arise.
God’s greatness may be established
in scripture, but actually tasting Sri
Hari’s essence is what it is all about. To
bow towards Sri Krishna’s playground
brings knowledge of his greatness, which
is then followed by an awareness of our
own sacred relationship. With this, our
actions are transformed and become
infused with wisdom. When thought
and action blend into a single offering,
a dedication to his pleasure arises.
Desire, fear and hatred are usually
obstructions to attainment, but with
the power of grace, anything can be
transformed. Kamsa merged with
god through fear, while Shishupal
arrived through hatred. And it was
through their desires that the Gopis of
Vrindavan found the supreme reward,
a dance with Sri Krishna. Sri Yamunaji
is the goddess of transformation, and
her mere proximity makes souls like the
Gopis beloved to Hari.
Because his connection with the form
and the lila is direct, Sri Vallabhacharya’s
teachings on Sri Yamunaji are full of
truth. He ends his “Yamunastkam,” the
eight verses in praise of Yamuna, with
the words: “All devotional powers are
attained through you, and Sri Krishna
is pleased. You transform the nature
of your bhaktas, beloved of Hari.”
This is the process of nirodha, that is,
of becoming perfectly bound to God.
It arises from an addiction that comes
from love and attachment. Nirodha is
the refined reward that brings the bhakta
directly to god’s playground. It frees the
practitioner from all constraints. Where
there is nirodha, there is nothing else
to attain. Every sense and every pore
of the being is directed towards blissful
brahman.
Sri Yamunaji’s devotional empowerments
are about nirodha, and there is
no mantra, knowledge, meditation,
prayer or holy ground that surpasses it.
“Yamuna Maiya Ki Jai.”
January 2013
31

A PRACTITIONER’S TALE
HARI’S LĪLĀ
E-mailed from Vrindavan, North India, February 2003
SHYAMDAS
Hari plays with thousands
and somewhere along the way, I
was called. The Director brought me
two hours south of Delhi, to God’s
playground, to the sacred lands of
Vrindavan, úrà Käüóa’s làlá land. I was
eighteen and determined: a dream that
had become reality had brought me
to Vrindavan, and I headed straight
for Neem Karoli Baba’s ashram. Not
finding the master at home, I wandered
around the outskirts of Vrindavan and
came to úyám Kuôi ashram. There, the
Mahant, the ashram’s head, called out
to me in Hindi, but realizing that I did
not understand him, a silver-haired
Gujarati man, Maïgaldás, the servant
of auspiciousness, came down the stairs
and greeted me in proper English.
Within two minutes, he not only had
invited me to live with him, but had
given me a Käüóa mantra which I use to
this day. My entrance into Vrindavan
had begun!
It was December, 1972, and
every morning I would go out and lie
on the sandy banks of the úrà Yamuná
river, and feel very blessed for what
seemed to be absolutely no reason at all.
Any sense of doing some sort of sádhana
to attain an assumption of samádhi
left my consciousness; everything was
perfect just as it was.
Within days, my Vrindavan
experience was again upgraded when I
had the good fortune to meet the great
saint, Neem Karoli Baba. The darùan
and blessings of this siddha saint, in
combination with my new-found
friendship with my Vrindavan mentor
Maïgaldás, was very uplifting. And yet
still a question remained, “Is Brahman
32 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
“Glories to úrà Käüóa, the Doer of Wonderful Deeds,
Who played the world into existence
by dividing râpa (form) and nám (name).”
(úràmad Vallabáchárya)
devoid of attributes, beyond name and
form, ùânyatá, absolute suchness, or is
Brahman personal, a Blessed Lord who
relates directly with His bhaktas?”
Little did I know that these concerns
were ones that also divided the major
Indian enlightenment schools, for every
searcher inquires into the nature of
things. I picked up a Gita Press English
translation of the úràmad Bhágavata
and read stories of úrà Käüóa’s làlás.
They felt familiar, though not in the
sense of events that had occurred in
history. My curiosity only increased:
“Are You formed or not?”
Nearly five hundred years ago, the
Muslim Käüóa bhakta-poet Rasakhān
Lotus flower. Photograph by Pascale Willi.
pondered similar issues in Braja and
wrote:
úeüa, Gaóeù, Maheù,
Dineù and Sureù
Sing continually of His glories.
He is beginningless,
endless, unlimited,
Indestructible, void of difference–
Revealed in the Vedas.
The sages Nárada, úuka and
Vyása try unsuccessfully
To fathom his limits:
Yet for those Gopis –
He dances for a small glass of buttermilk!

Although the nature of Brahman
is beyond reason, non-material,
full of truth, consciousness, and for
the most part bliss, it is with the grace
of Great Beings that Brahman can be
approached, known, seen and touched.
Reunion with him is not a question of
how much we practice, but rather how
much we desire to know. Brahman
chooses those who choose Brahman,
though we will also want the saints and
bhaktas to be pulling for us. They help
with direct experience.
My concerns over the nature of
Brahman fled one evening when, with
the guiding grace of Neem Karoli Baba,
I received a glimpse of the Vrindavan
that the bhakti poets described in their
samádhi language. There could be no
longer any doubt in my mind: Brahman
was Käüóa, beautiful as a billion Loves
and brighter than a million suns. He
was devoid of worldly attributes and
replete with divine virtues. I defer to
the words of the mute boy Gopaldás,
who became a devotional ocean when
his spiritual eyes were opened after the
bhakti master úrà Gusainji gave him
some of his chewed betal. Immediately
afterwards, he sang:
In Vrindavan, the úrà Yamuná
river flows.
Her banks are graced
with golden steps,
inlaid with jewels.
In Vrindavan, daytime and
nocturnal lotuses
bloom simultaneously,
while beautiful black bees
hover, singing the sweetest songs.
In Vrindavan, the air is rich
with the fragrance of
golden vines, jasmine buds and the
myriad flowers that flourish there.
In Vrindavan, there is great pleasure
in feeling the cool winds that blow
from úrà Yamunáji’s waters.
In Vrindavan, lovely Rádha resides.
Her eyes are like a
hundred-petaled lotus.
There are also countless
groups of Gopis,
dancing many Rasa Làlas.
They are playing with úrà Käüóa,
the son of Nanda.
Such are the flavors of Vrindavan!
Once we have determined
where we are going, more than
half of the path is covered over. Vague
notions create obscurity, which is why
the guru lineages arose: to save us time.
Better to first hear about it or, better
still, to be shown it by someone who
has been there before, rather than to try
to figure it out on our own. Now, in
Vrindavan, I saw a striking similarity
between the nature of Brahman’s
ultimate reality and what the land of
Vrindavan actually looked like. There
was no longer any need to figure it out;
the issue moved to the heart.
Six months later, a visa complication
drove me out of India, and I returned
to the States, where my enthusiasm was
seen by my parents as madness. They
sent me to a psychiatrist, thinking he
would either cure me or, more likely,
put me away — far, far away from
India. But I was judged to be fine and,
with the guru’s grace, found myself
back in India within a few months,
back again by the banks of the Yamuná
River. Neem Karoli Baba had just left
his physical body, and I moved in again
with Maïgaldás at the úyám Kuôi
ashram.
Maïgaldás’ was a làlá personality.
He told me that, one evening when
he was fifty years old, úrà Käüóa had
awakened and given him darùan of
Vrindavan Divine, and that from that
day on, he had never returned to his
worldly home. He moved to Vrindavan
and spent his evenings weeping for
his Beloved. A seventy- year-old yogi,
who looked forty, used to visit us in
Vrindavan and to ask Maïgaldás to
teach him how to cry for the Blessed
Lord. What could Maïgaldás say?
There is simply no formula to attain
this divine expression. Maïgaldás’
bed was even surcharged with Käüóa
devotion, and sometimes when he
was out, I would lie on his mattress
and could actually feel the force of his
bhakti: pure sweetness. His picture
of úrà Käüóa playing the flute by the
Yamuná river, although a print, would
look up and smile at me from time to
time. All these experiences nourished
the tender sprout of my devotion. It
was an amazing year!
One day, Maïgaldás suddenly
decided that, with five thousand other
pilgrims, we should go on a fortyday
pilgrimage to the sacred lands
of Braja. We began in Mathura and,
arriving in Jatipura by the Govardhan
Hill a week later, Maïgaldás took
me to meet His Holiness Goswámi
Prathameùji, the head of the first seat
of úrà Vallabhácárya’s Puüôi Márga,
the Blessed Path of Grace. When I
requested initiation, His Holiness told
me to come back in a few weeks, but I
was stubborn and he finally relented. In
this way, I became the first Westerner
to enter the pure, non-dual devotional
path, in which nourishment is His
Grace.
It all seemed seamless. My
relationship with His Holiness was
still another amazing blessing and as
my relationship with him grew, so did
my understanding and entrance into
the Loving Path. It is certainly easier
when the blessings we receive in life,
that develop over lifetimes, correspond
with the teachings, views and practices
that exist in the outside world. My
relationship with His Holiness
Goswámi Prathameù, whom I began to
call Jai Jai (Victory Victory), was from
the very beginning a pure delight. He
was my guru, but also my father. He
was at times a friend, at others, a fellow
bhakta, and after a while I simply could
not live without him. What he spoke of,
I could see. He was a bhakti Vedántin,
a divine lover who knew the essence of
the Upaniüads.
He was also an amazing singer –
the songs he sang were directly from
úrà Käüóa’s realm – and an expert
pakhavaja player and master of many
other instruments. He was a Vedic
scholar, and an inspired, full-blown
Ächárya steeped in the mood of
devotion, yet innocent like a child.
The day he was born in Jatipura, úrà
Käüóa’s small footprints appeared on
the local temple floor. I felt lucky to
be in his orbit.
January 2013
33

Jai Jai gave me a room in his
ancestral temple home in front of
the Govardhan Hill. His grace-filled
patrimony, with its lovely paths through
the groves of Vrindavan, became the
avenues I loved to stroll. And for me,
he became the living manifestation of
the Path of Grace.
Although timeless, the Path
of Grace was manifested by úrà
Maháprabhu Vallabhácárya (1479-1531),
Jai Jai’s forefather, fourteen generations
ago. úrà Vallabhácárya taught that this
creation is comprised of Blissful God,
and nothing but God. Such a pure view
inspires us to discover Käüóa’s joy not
only in ourselves, but in the world as
well. We should experience úrà Käüóa
everywhere and with every feeling.
For grace-filled souls, the world is not
unreal or something to be overcome,
but rather a divine realm in which the
experience of God and of His manifold
creation can be experienced as a làlá, or
divine play.
I was encouraged by Jai Jai to
live happily in this world and to offer
everything to the Lord of Sweetness.
“úrà Käüóa,” he told me, “pays close
attention to those who adore Him and
returns every favor a hundredfold. To
know and love Him is devotion. To
experience His rapture is Grace. So
employ the powers of your heart and
mind in His pleasure, use your body
and every resource in a brilliant and
sensitive manner, so you can ultimately
become possessed
by Divinity. In that
blessed state, what
need is there of even
liberation?”
I discovered
the path of Satsaïg,
or association with
the saints. For if we
truly live in the light
of good fellowship,
the loving mood
of devotion will
be “downloaded” through emulation.
First is the recognition of devotion in
someone else. Then, if we humbly bow
to the bhakta’s realization, we may be
allowed in. But for all this to occur,
there must be Siddhánt, which is the
34 Special Issue • Shyamdas ~ In Memoriam
teaching that brings us to perfection.
Siddhánt is true philosophy. It is
“siddha,” perfection, at the “anta,” or end,
and is strictly for soulful attainment.
I found úrà Vallabhácárya’s nondual
Path of Grace full of devotional
inspiration, and began to study his
teachings and poetry, first in Hindi
and later, as my knowledge grew, in
Sanskrit. Satsaïg became my main
practice, and I spent the next thirty
years developing a taste for the gracefilled
view. I learned that sublime
matters become part of daily life when
they are contemplated daily.
Whenever Jai Jai traveled outside
of the Braja area, I would stay in the
village of Jatipura and attend a daily
Satsaïg with two senior practitioners,
Jetabhai and Gopilal. Gopilal was a
Yogi Sanskrit man who not only taught,
but wrote Sanskrit. He had lived all
over the Braja area and had gathered
in his blessed being profound Käüóa
experience. Jetabhai was a Käüóa bhakta
and the only man in town who spoke
English. Every evening I would sit
between the two of them and listen to
their Hindi Satsaïgs. This association
nurtured me and protected my mindheart.
For the seed of devotion begins
as a subtle notion and matures into a
wishing tree that provides the blessed
one with the priceless fruit of bhakti. In
this blessed state, the Beloved appears
first in the heart and then everywhere.
When i was in
high school,
learning another
language proved
so difficult for me
that I obtained
special permission
to forgo taking a
second language. In
Jatipura, however,
just by sitting
between these two
practitioners, I
began to understand them within a few
short months. As I listened, my spiritual
interests increased and I would literally
run to meet them every day.
In spiritual life, a clear
understanding of why a practice is
undertaken, as well as an intense desire
to come face-to-face with Hari, is
needed. Yet it is always easier to listen to
the teachings of those who have already
advanced than it is to try to formulate
something on our own. My first years
in India were spent in absorbing the
teachings and honoring the wisdom
of those who had traveled the Path
before me. My goal remained the Path
of Grace and I was helped along by the
teachings of úrà Vallabhácárya and his
followers who composed a remarkable
body of spiritual teachings in Sanskrit
and Braja Bháüá based on the Vedas,
Brahma Sâtras, Upaniüads, Gàtá, as
well as the úràmad Bhágavatam.
úrà Vallabhácárya’s teachings
are referred to as Brahmaváda, or the
reasoned doctrine that explains that all
is Brahman and nothing but Brahman.
This pure, non-dualist view of threading
the mind into úrà Käüóa served to
support the devotional view and
practice that was natural to me. This
view holds that the whole of creation is
úrà Käüóa’s divine play. It is His làlá. We
souls manifest into it like sparks from
a fire and are like actors appearing on
the authentic stage of the world. Such a
view of unity allows for diversity that is
free of animosity. The world is not an
illusion, but a perfect conclusion, God’s
own modification. What is needed is
for us to correctly cognize and witness a
non-duality between the soul, the world
and blissful Brahman.
Another aspect of Brahman’s
formless, timeless, endless, total being
is the creation. It seems to be an
illusion only when vision is tainted
with máyá. When that confusion is
removed, the world is seen as it is, as
comprised of pure Käüóa, Who stands
at the beginning, middle and end of
everything. He is existence, its cause,
its support, and its end. He is the rays
of the moon and the light of the sun.
His forms are varied and His face is
hidden everywhere. Concealment
and manifestation are the two powers
whereby He brings forth the dance of
creation.
It was in the Braja region that
úrà Käüóa expanded and tasted the

joy of His own Being. And it was
there in Jatipura where I would sit
every evening between the bhakti yogi
Gopi Lal and the devotee Jetabhai and
imbibe their Satsaïg. Life in Jatipura
was spiritually effortless, but at times
physically torturous. No electricity
and 120 degree weather were hard on
the body, but the Satsaïg was always
good. Associating with the saints of
Braja was so sweet that I somehow
managed to withstand the extremes.
When knowledge is combined with
devotion, the soul is experienced as
joyful, and what is celebrated within
becomes a festival throughout the
world, regardless of the weather.
For eight years I remained in the
small village of Jatipura and rarely saw
another Westerner. There, devotional
practice was not a weekend retreat but
rather a continuous affair. I knew that
my dedication needed to be free from
fanaticism and my practice devoid of
any false sense of attainment. I also
knew that it should blossom into a
loving view, which is the foundational
stuff needed to understand úrà Käüóa,
Who is totally devoid of all material
attributes, and yet who is personal and
replete with divinity, and can respond
to anyone. As the yogi Gopi Lala once
said to me: “Käüóa is multi-dimensional.
When He walked into Kaêsa’s wrestling
arena, úrà Käüóa’s parents looked upon
Him as their son, while the women in
the stands saw Him as Love Incarnate.
The yogis regarded Him as the absolute
unblemished Brahman, while the young
cowherds viewed him as their friend.
The wrestlers saw Him as a mighty foe,
while King Kaêsa looked at the divine
cowlad as death personified. And yet
they all became liberated through their
personal views of úrà Käüóa.”
My greatest days in Jatipura were
when Jai Jai came to visit. We would
spend hours together in his room by
the Govardhan Hill, where he would
fill me with wonderful teachings.
“Brahman’s attributes appear in every
object in the world,” he one day
explained to me. “He is the clay as well
as the various forms of clay-like pots
and plates. Máyá is simply the power
of the Lord that deludes and therefore
creates false cognition. A person sees
a white cloth as yellow because he is
wearing yellow-tinted sunglasses. If
you can discern that the white cloth is
what is real and that the yellowness is a
product of máyá, then you can remove
the máyá and not the world. So, don’t
pull your eyes out. Take off the yellow
glasses!”
Another time, during one of
our conversations in Hindi which
I recorded and later translated into
English, Jai Jai said, “The blessed soul
desires to become a vessel of her Lord’s
grace so much that she manifests a
spiritual form that pleases Him! Then
she aspires to nothing else. Whoever is
capable of digesting God’s grace can
become a blessed vessel.”
“A bhakta is so sensitive that she
feels the pain the Blessed Lord feels
for His separated souls. The bhakta
also knows that He is all powerful
and can surmount every obstacle. It
is pride of practice that causes even
sages to stumble. The bhakta who
sees Bhagaván as both the means and
the reward is free from this pride. Her
non-attachment to the means is called
nissádhana. But nissádhana does not
mean that spiritual practices should be
avoided.”
“Are you saying that within the
process of nissádhana there should
be an attitude of nissádhana?” I then
asked him.
“Absolutely! A person is confused
who thinks that through a particular
means he can achieve purity. The state
of nissádhana is realized when the soul
sees that it is God’s grace that gives a
spiritual practice power. What strength
is there in sádhana? Sádhana only
becomes effective when you remove
the misconception that sádhana is the
controlling force. Wisdom is seeing the
process of sádhana as the workings of
God.
“If you do not wish to meet
someone, then you will not make any
effort to find them. But let’s suppose
that you use a car or a plane to meet
someone you do not want to see; the
means you use to arrive at a place that
you really do not want to go to are all
useless. Also a meeting will never occur
with a person who wishes to meet you,
but makes no effort to arrive.
“A practitioner is confused when he
imagines that God can be controlled
through a particular practice. You see,
practice by itself lacks consciousness. If
you have a thorn in your foot, you will
automatically feel it. There is no need
to practice the feeling because every
time you put your foot down, you feel
the pain. Understand nissádhana from
that example.
“The Bhágavata describes how the
Gopis, intent on winning úrà Käüóa
for a husband, bathed every morning
in the Yamuná river. Their profound
love brought Käüóa before them and
ultimately freed them from their
worldly bonds. They left their clothes,
their worldly attachments, by the
banks of the river. úrà Käüóa took these
garments and, when He returned them,
he awarded those Gopis divine bodies
with senses full of divine cognition.
“Normally our senses are limited in
perception, but when the Lord endows
them, we engage unceasingly in His
darùan. No words can adequately
reveal their experience. Bhaktas are
always absorbed in God and can never
be confused by mere words of wisdom.
The Gopis appeared from úrà Käüóa’s
bliss body which, as Rasakhān sings, is
full of love:
‘The ever-new, passion-filled
Käüóa is lovely,
His form is embedded in my eyes.
His words are engraved in my heart.
His glance centered in my heart.’ ”
Then Jai Jai suddenly stopped and
asked me, “Can you bathe in Niagra
Falls?”
January 2013
35

SHYAMDAS 1953-2013 IN MEMORIAM
SPECIAL ISSUE January 2013
Shyamdas with satsang partners Vishnu Shastri of Mathura and Krishna Mukhiyaji of Belvan. Photos by Mae Ryan, Shyamdas's niece
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