Rāsa-pañcādhyāyī III - The Gopī-gīta

In the Thirty-first Chapter, the gopīs, now without hope of finding Him, return once more to the riverbank. Singing only of Kṛṣṇa, they pray for His return.

The gopīs said:

O beloved, by Your birth Vraja has become surpassingly glorious, for Indirā, the goddess of fortune, dwells here forever. Please appear before us. We who belong to You have somehow kept our lives only for Your sake, and we are searching for You in every direction.

Editorial note [*35]: In the verses beginning with jayati, the second consonant of each of the four quarters is generally the same. In some quarters the first and seventh consonants are also the same. In a few places, consonants such as śa, sa, ba, and va are treated as identical because their phonetic equivalence is accepted by authorities on poetics and related disciplines.

Editorial note [*36]: The expression tvayā dṛśyatām can mean, “Become visible; manifest Yourself.” Since it relinquishes an external agent, it is an imperative in the impersonal construction. Alternatively, it is a passive imperative: “May You be seen by us.”

Śrīdhara's commentary: “It triumphs” means: O beloved, because of Your birth, Vraja triumphs by existing in a state of extraordinary excellence. Since You were born here, Indirā, Lakṣmī herself, certainly takes shelter here and remains, adorning Vraja. Although all Vraja is thus rejoicing, we who are Yours, the gopīs, have somehow sustained our lives here solely for You and are searching for You. Therefore, let Yourself be seen, that is, manifest Yourself. Or the sense is, “May we see You.” Another possible sense is: “See for Yourself how these women are searching for You.”

In an autumn lake, Your glance steals the beauty from the heart of a perfectly blossomed lotus. O master of love, O giver of boons, You are slaying us, Your unpaid maidservants. Is killing in this way not murder here?

Editorial note [*37]: Alternatively, construe the words to mean: “By that very glance You made us Your unpaid maidservants, accepting the form of the glance itself as our price, and now You kill those maidservants by abandoning them.”

Śrīdhara's commentary: Because different groups of gopīs speak independently, “another group said” is to be supplied as the introduction to every verse. The connection between the verses will nevertheless be explained. If Kṛṣṇa asks, “What does it matter to Me if they search?”, they answer with this verse. In an autumn lake, the perfectly grown lotus is fully open; Your eye steals the splendor found within its center. O master of love, O giver of the desired boon, You are killing us, Your priceless maidservants, with that eye. Does the killing You commit in this world not count as murder? Is only killing with a weapon murder, and not killing with a glance? It certainly is murder. Therefore, show Yourself so that You may restore the lives stolen by Your glance. Wherever the context permits, the words “let Yourself be seen” are to be supplied as the completion of every verse.

From death in poisonous water, from the serpent-demon, from rain, wind, lightning and fire, from the bull, from the son of Maya, and from dangers on every side, O greatest of heroes, You have repeatedly protected us.

Editorial note [*38]: “Son of the bull” means Vatsāsura, just as a boar's young is called varāhatoka. “Son of Maya” means Vyomāsura. Although his story is narrated later, it should be understood to have taken place before the rāsa dance.

Śrīdhara's commentary: They add, “Having mercifully protected us from so many deaths, why do You now send Cupid through Your glance to kill us?” O greatest one, You protected us from destruction in poisonous water; from the serpent-demon Aghāsura; from the rain and wind; from lightning and fire, that is, a lightning strike; from the bull Ariṣṭa; from Vyoma, the son of Maya; and from every other danger. By subduing Kāliya and in other ways You saved us. Their implied question is: why do You neglect us now?

You are certainly not merely the son of a cowherdess, Yaśodā. You are the witness within the hearts of all embodied beings. At the request of Vikhanas, Brahmā, You arose in the dynasty of the Sātvatas to protect the universe, O friend.

Editorial note [*39]: Although the deaths of Ariṣṭāsura and Vyomāsura were still to occur, the gopīs may speak of them as past because they had heard about them from Garga and others, or because presenting them as past nourishes the mood of separation.

Śrīdhara's commentary: Since neglecting Your devotees is utterly improper for one who has descended to protect the universe, they speak this verse. O friend, You are certainly not merely Yaśodā's son. Rather, You are the witness of the intelligence of every living being. One might object, “Can such a being become visible?” They reply that, requested by Vikhanas, Brahmā, to protect the universe, You rose like the sun in the dynasty of the Sātvatas.

O foremost of the Vṛṣṇis, Your lotus hand grants fearlessness to those who approach Your feet out of fear of worldly existence. O beloved, it fulfills desire and has taken the hand of Śrī. Place that hand upon our heads.

Editorial note [*40]: One reading has śaraṇam īyuṣām, “those who have sought refuge.”

Editorial note [*41]: Some explain kānta-kāmadam as two qualities: the hand is itself delightful, and it bestows what is desired.

Śrīdhara's commentary: They now make four requests, beginning here, asking Kṛṣṇa to fulfill them for His devotees. O foremost of the Vṛṣṇis, Your hand has bestowed freedom from fear upon living beings who, terrified of saṃsāra, have approached Your feet and taken shelter. O beloved, it grants desired boons and takes the hand of Śrī, the goddess of fortune. Place that lotus hand of Yours upon our heads.

O hero who destroys the suffering of Vraja's people, Your smile shatters the pride of Your own beloved ones. O friend, accept us, Your maidservants, and show us women Your beautiful lotus face.

Editorial note [*42]: Alternatively, in affectionate anger the gopīs say, “Go and accept those other women who are not Your maidservants, but show us Your lotus face, since our death is now certain.”

Śrīdhara's commentary: O destroyer of the anguish of Vraja's people, O hero, O friend whose smile destroys the pride of Your own people, accept us who are Your maidservants; indeed, take shelter with us. First of all, show us women Your beautiful lotus face.

Your lotus feet remove the sins of all embodied beings who bow before You. In compassion they follow even the grass-eating cows; they are the abode of Śrī and were placed upon the serpent's hoods. Set those feet upon our breasts and cut away the desire in our hearts.

Editorial note [*43]: Simply by being placed upon the serpent's hoods, those feet destroyed the serpent's venom and pride. The implication is that destroying Cupid merely by touching our hearts will therefore not be difficult.

Śrīdhara's commentary: Your lotus feet destroy the sins of all embodied beings who bow before You without distinction. Out of compassion they follow even the grass-eating animals. Through their good fortune they are the dwelling place of Śrī, and through their exceeding power they were placed upon the serpent's hoods. Put those lotus feet upon our breasts. For what purpose? Cut down the desire lodged in our hearts.

O lotus-eyed hero, by Your sweet speech, with its charming words that delight the wise, You have made us Your servants. Revive us, who are now fainting, with the nectar of Your lips.

Editorial note [*44]: Alternatively: “By Your speech itself You made these women Your servants, and now they visibly swoon in separation.”

Śrīdhara's commentary: O lotus-eyed one, Your sweet speech consists of charming words and delights the wise, for it is heartfelt and profound. Revive us, these servants of Yours who are fainting, with the intoxicating nectar of Your lips.

The nectar of Your stories gives life to the afflicted. Celebrated by seers, it destroys sin. Auspicious to hear and filled with beauty, it is spread throughout the earth. Those who proclaim it are the most generous.

Editorial note [*45]: Alternatively, the gopīs, scorched by separation, speak ironically: “Your very stories are mṛta, death, for by serving as stimulants they kill us. They give life to the scorched just as life in boiling oil would. Those who recite them before us are bhūridāḥ, great killers.” Here the verbal root do is understood in the sense of cutting apart. On this reading they say, “Enough of the nectar of Your stories.”

Śrīdhara's commentary: In separation from You, death had already come to us, but virtuous people who made us drink the nectar of Your stories cheated us of it. The stories themselves are nectar, because they give life to the afflicted. They surpass even the famous nectar of the gods because poets, meaning knowers of Brahman, praise them, whereas those sages treated the nectar enjoyed by the gods as insignificant. These stories also remove impurity by dispelling lust-driven action; ordinary nectar does not do this. They are auspicious merely upon being heard, while the other nectar requires a rite for its use. They possess splendor and bring perfect peace, while ordinary nectar intoxicates. Those people who spread such nectar of Your stories throughout the earth are bhūridāḥ, abundant givers, because they give life. Alternatively, they are called bhūridāḥ because they must have given greatly in previous lives and are therefore virtuous. The meaning is this: even those who merely proclaim the nectar of Your stories are supremely blessed, so how much more blessed are those who see You. Therefore we pray: let Yourself be seen.

O beloved deceiver, Your bright laughter, Your loving glances, Your pastimes, and Your intimate exchanges that touch the heart are auspicious even in meditation, yet they violently agitate our minds.

Editorial note [*46]: “Auspicious merely through meditation” qualifies the laughter and each of the other things named in the verse.

Śrīdhara's commentary: Kṛṣṇa might say, “Be satisfied simply by hearing My stories. What need have you of seeing Me?” They answer, “No. Our hearts have been agitated by Your playful acts, so even in hearing those stories we find no peace.” O beloved, O deceiver, the “exchanges” are secret signals and playful jokes.

O master, when You leave Vraja by day to graze the cows, we fear that Your feet, more beautiful and tender than lotuses, suffer from stones, grass, and tender shoots. O beloved, our minds become deeply distressed.

Śrīdhara's commentary: We are exceedingly tenderhearted in our love for You; why, then, do You act deceitfully toward us? They express this through this verse and the next. O master, O beloved, whenever You leave Vraja while grazing the cows, Your tender feet, beautiful as lotuses, must suffer from stones, sharp grass, and sprouts. Thinking this, our minds become troubled and unwell. Such are we, our hearts always fearing that You may suffer.

At the close of day, You repeatedly show us Your lotus face, veiled by dark curls and thickly covered with the cows' dust. O hero, You thereby awaken desire in our minds.

Śrīdhara's commentary: But You, at evening, bear a lotus face covered by dark curls and thickly powdered with the dust raised by the cows, like a lotus covered with pollen and surrounded by a swarm of bees. By showing us that face again and again, You place only smara, amorous desire, in our minds, but You do not grant us Your company. The implication is that You are a deceiver.

Editorial note [*47]: Smara is that which agitates even through mere remembrance.

Your lotus feet fulfill the desires of those who bow before You, are worshiped by lotus-born Brahmā, adorn the earth, and are to be meditated upon in danger. O lover, destroyer of distress, those feet are supremely soothing. Place them upon our breasts.

Editorial note [*48]: The feet adorn the earth with the marks of the banner and other auspicious emblems.

Śrīdhara's commentary: They now pray in this verse and the next: abandon Your deceit and do this. O destroyer of affliction, O lover, Your lotus feet satisfy the desires of those who bow before You. Lotus-born Brahmā worships them. They are to be meditated upon in calamity, since meditation on them alone removes distress. They are also supremely soothing and delightful even while one serves them. Place those lotus feet upon our breasts to pacify the burning of desire.

O hero, distribute to us the nectar of Your lips. It increases love, destroys sorrow, and has been thoroughly kissed by the sounding flute. It makes people forget every other attachment.

Editorial note [*49]: “People” includes men also, so how much more must it include women.

Śrīdhara's commentary: O hero, give us the nectar of Your lips. It has been thoroughly kissed by the resonant flute; the implication is that it has perfumed the nectar of the flute's sound. It makes people forget attachment, meaning desire, for all other pleasures, including even the happiness of universal sovereignty.

When You wander in the forest by day, a fraction of a second becomes an age for those who do not see You. And when we gaze upon Your beautiful face, framed by curling locks, the creator of eyelids seems a dull-witted fool.

Editorial note [*50]: Alternatively, divide the words as ajaḍa udīkṣatām: “Let the one who made eyelids, if he is not dull but truly knows rasa, look upon Your face after first removing the eyelids, so that there will be no blinking.” Or: “Let the intelligent creator cut away the eyelashes from our eyes and look upward.” We, whose sight is obstructed by eyelids, are dull; what can we see? The sense is that even while seeing Him, the arrangement of blinking causes pain.

Śrīdhara's commentary: Seeing that even a moment without You is misery and that seeing You is happiness, we have renounced every other association like ascetics. For us, even half a moment becomes as long as an age. Thus they describe the pain of not seeing Him. Then, when somehow at day's end they gaze intently upon Your glorious face, Brahmā, who made the eyelids of their eyes, is surely dull and foolish. Even the interval of a single blink is unbearable. Thus they describe the happiness of seeing Him.

O Acyuta, we have utterly transgressed husbands, sons, family, brothers, and relatives to come to You. You knew the course of our coming, and Your loud song enchanted us. O cheat, what man would abandon women who have come to him at night?

Śrīdhara's commentary: Therefore, O Acyuta, we have completely crossed beyond husbands, sons, family members, brothers, and other relatives and come near You. You knew the course of our coming. Or gativit may mean that You know the movements of song; alternatively, it may describe us as knowing the way to You. Enchanted by the song You raised aloud, we came. O cheat, what man apart from You would abandon women who came to him of their own accord at night? No one would.

Your private exchanges awaken desire in the heart; Your laughing face and loving glance do the same. Seeing Your broad chest, the abode of Śrī, our minds repeatedly faint from intense longing.

Editorial note [*51]: The compound may mean “the place where confidential exchanges occur.” It is an irregular compound without elision. Likewise: “the face upon which a smile appears” and “the occasion upon which a loving glance occurs.”

Editorial note [*52]: One construction is, “Intense longing arises.” Alternatively, because spṛh belongs to the saṃpadādi class, an abstract noun with zero suffix is used in the instrumental: “On seeing it, the mind faints through intense longing.” Citsukha reads atispṛham.

Śrīdhara's commentary: Since You have abandoned us, cure through union with You the disease of the heart produced by our earlier sight of You. With this intention they speak this verse and the next. Seeing Your broad chest, the abode of Śrī, intense longing arises, and our minds faint again and again.

O beloved, Your manifestation among the people of Vraja and the forest completely destroys suffering and brings auspiciousness to the whole universe. Our minds are wholly filled with longing for You. Give us at least a little of that secret remedy which destroys the heartache of Your own people.

Editorial note [*53]: The compound means both the residents of Vraja and the residents of the forest.

Śrīdhara's commentary: Your manifestation, Your appearing, destroys the suffering of all the residents of Vraja and the forest without distinction, and it is the auspiciousness of the whole universe, the very embodiment of every blessing. Therefore, to us whose minds have become nothing but longing for You, release at least a little of it, give us something without withholding it through lack of compassion. What is that “something”? You alone know the most secret medicine that destroys the heart disease of Your own people. Such is their concealed intention.

O beloved, we fearfully place Your tender lotus feet very gently upon our hard breasts, worried that they may be bruised. Yet with those same feet You wander through the forest. Are they not hurt by sharp gravel and the like? Our minds, for whom You are life itself, reel at the thought.

Śrīdhara's commentary: Overwhelmed by the force of their love, the gopīs weep as they speak. O beloved, we would place Your tender lotus feet only gently upon our hard breasts, fearing they might be bruised. But with those same feet You wander through the forest. If the reading is nayasi, the sense is: You lead the cows, some other person, or Your own self through the forest. How could those lotus feet not be pained there by sharp gravel and the like? Surely they must be. Our minds reel in bewilderment, for You are the very life of us all.

Editorial note [*54]: Dadhīmahi means “we would hold them as they deserve to be held.” The optative is used in the sense of fitness according to the rule, “The gerundive and tṛc express what is fitting.”

Editorial note [*55]: The phrase bhavadāyuṣām means “those whose life is You.” The song's opening, “we have sustained our lives in You,” carries precisely this same meaning.

Colophon: Thus ends the Thirty-first Chapter in the Bhāvārtha-dīpikā commentary on the first half of the Tenth Canto of the great Śrīmad Bhāgavata Purāṇa.