Rasa-pancadhyayi III - The Gopi-gita

Bhāgavata 10.31.1

The gopīs said: Vraja shines more gloriously because of Your birth, for Indirā dwells here forever. Beloved, please appear! Your own maidservants, who have placed their very lives in You, search for You in every direction.

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

I wish to write about the meaning of words whose sole true destination is Kṛṣṇa. May those very gopīs, embodiments of compassion, accept my earnest endeavor.

Śrīdhara Svāmī drank the concentrated nectar and rasa-filled beauty of the glorious Gopī-gīta. I shall consider only the little that remained.

Bhāgavata 10.31.2

O Lord of love, Your glance steals the beauty from the heart of a perfect lotus freshly blossomed in an autumn lake. We are Your unpaid maidservants. O giver of blessings, is killing us in this way not truly murder?

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

“In an autumn lake” praises both the time and place of the lotus's birth. “Perfectly born” praises its arising, “excellent” its species and individual form, and “in its heart” the innermost whorl where the lotus's beauty reaches its utmost limit. Yet Kṛṣṇa's glance steals even that splendor through its own. Wherever His ever-fresh beauty appears, the lotus's beauty can no longer be seen and must therefore have been stolen by it.

“Glance” is singular to suggest the power of only one eye: if one glance does this, what then could two accomplish? The word also connects with “Lord of love.” By that very glance He begged for amorous union and caused such desire to arise in them. Calling Him “giver of blessings” says that His promise strengthened that desire. The gopīs are therefore faultless and, as unpaid maidservants, possess only virtue. Yet He now incurs the still greater fault of killing them.

The imagery also attributes to Him all the traits of a thief. A thief ignores the grave fault of taking even a virtuous person's treasure, knows objects hidden with extraordinary secrecy, and crosses barriers impossible to cross. The first trait is conveyed by praising the lotus's clear autumn lake, its excellent birth, and its noble nature. The second appears in the beauty hidden within the lotus's inner whorl beneath deep water. The third lies in reaching the inaccessible center of a lake filled after the rains and penetrating the thousand-petaled lotus with His eyes. Even Śrī, the heroine concealed there as if from fear of Him, has been robbed.

What then can be said of simple women like the gopīs, who wander fearlessly through Vraja and Vṛndāvana? Let Him steal them too through His glance. Yet Śrī, despite Her own crookedness, remains sheltered within His eyes, while the straightforward gopīs have been forcibly stolen, made unpaid servants, and then, though they serve without jealousy or condition, begun to be killed by that same glance. This is supreme injustice. “Is this not murder here?” asks whether secrecy from the world can make theft and killing cease to be crimes. Their two addresses imply: “Ah, now we understand. You falsely arranged all those promises only to bring about this end.”

Alternatively, His glance itself was their wage, making them servants purchased by that payment, yet He now kills even them through abandonment. “Lord of love” can be turned into “tormentor of those deeply absorbed in love,” while “giver of blessings” becomes “destroyer of Your own boon.” He should therefore return at least to remedy His own fault.

Bhāgavata 10.31.3

O greatest of all, You have repeatedly protected us from death by poisoned water, from the serpent demon, from rain and wind, from lightning and fire, from the bull, Maya's son, and fear on every side.

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

He has always protected the gopīs, sometimes indirectly through saving those on whom their lives depend and sometimes together with everyone. They therefore invoke the principle, “It is improper to nurture even a poisonous tree and then cut it down oneself” (Kumāra-sambhava 2.55). How can He fail to remember this?

“Poisoned water” is the water of Kāliya's lake, whose drinking killed the cows and cowherd boys. The “serpent demon” is Aghāsura, described at 10.12.25 as a demon in serpent form who swallowed the boys and calves. By saving them, who were the life of all Gokula, He saved Gokula and therefore the gopīs as well. This is protection through a chain of dependence.

“Rain and wind” means wind mixed with rain. The same account mentions thunderbolts, hailstones, and harsh winds, so “lightning and fire” also refers to dangers from which He saved everyone by lifting Śrī Govardhana. “The bull and Maya's son” may be a collective compound naming Ariṣṭa and Vyoma. It may also join the bull with the demon who came as a calf, since that demon later expanded to great size. Then it refers to Vatsāsura and to Vyomāsura, Maya's son, whose deed must have occurred earlier because the narrative places it among Kṛṣṇa's earliest childhood acts. This resembles the Bhāgavata's phrase “a tiny boar emerged” (3.13.18). Another analysis likewise takes “the bull's offspring” as the calf and “Maya's offspring” as Vyoma.

Finally, “fear on every side” gathers every danger into one phrase. Calling Him the greatest of all declares His fitness to protect them from each one.

Bhāgavata 10.31.4

You are surely not merely the son of a cowherd woman. You are the seer within the hearts of all embodied beings. At Brahmā's prayer You appeared in the Sātvata dynasty to protect the universe. O friend!

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

From the power He has displayed, the gopīs infer His divine identity and praise Him. By saying that He is not merely the son of a cowherd woman, they include even Vraja's queen Yaśodā within their own community as its greatest member and humbly speak of the whole group as lower. As the witness within, He already knows the burning of their hearts. Why describe it at length?

They infer the cause of His descent from Brahmā's prayer. Having appeared in this devotee clan at the request of the foremost devotee, He must protect devotees even when the occasion seems untimely. It is therefore improper to demand that the gopīs, who are dear to Him, wait for an appropriate moment, and this is in fact the most urgent moment of all.

He may say, “You are not My devotees.” Even then He must protect them, for Brahmā requested protection of the whole universe. In truth they possess a distinctive loving mood even among devotees and deserve exceptional protection. They therefore call Him “friend.”

Alternatively, they have heard His majesty from sages and others, yet their own experience remains pure sweetness: He is the cowherd woman's son. They now employ knowledge of His majesty only as petitioners, to attain what suits their intimate mood. The same method continues in later verses.

Another reading takes “surely not” as a rhetorical denial: “Although You see every inner self, surely You are not the cowherd woman's son? Of course You are.” His appearance at Brahmā's prayer proves it, and therefore He must protect them.

With jealousy they may instead say: “You are not the son of the supremely compassionate queen of Vraja. You must be only the indifferent Supreme Self. Perhaps You are controlled solely by Brahmā's devotion and have appeared under the pretext of being Nanda's son merely to protect the universe. Yet through childhood play You also became our friend, so even then You must protect us.”

Because the negation appears first, it can also govern every phrase in a contrary reading: “O no-friend, O adversary! You cannot be Yaśodā's son, for that relationship would make neglecting us impossible. You cannot see the inner self of every embodied being, for then You would know our pain. Brahmā cannot have requested You to protect the universe, for then we too would deserve protection. Nor can You have appeared in the devotees' clan, for that relationship would make unconditional compassion inevitable.”

Bhāgavata 10.31.5

O foremost of the Vṛṣṇis, Your lotus hand grants fearlessness to those who approach Your feet in fear of worldly existence. Beloved, it fulfills desire and holds Śrī's hand. Place it upon our heads.

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

Continuing to invoke His majesty, they say that His hand “grants fearlessness,” meaning liberation. “Fulfills desire” means that it bestows every aim sought by those who desire dharma, prosperity, and pleasure, and also grants devotion. “Holds Śrī's hand” shows that love brings Him under His beloved's control and that He is a connoisseur of rasa. Each quality in this sequence surpasses the preceding one.

Comparing His hand to a lotus suggests that its natural coolness and sweetness are themselves the fruit. Liberation should therefore mean only the ending of the succession of pains so that the wealth of love may increase without obstruction. The three worldly aims are valuable only insofar as they assist the practice of love; devotees disregard them otherwise. All this praise of His virtues arises from love's exhilaration.

He may say, “You are not qualified for such a hand.” They answer, “True. Place it upon us by the power of Your own greatness, O foremost of the Vṛṣṇis.” He descended in the special Yadu clan to reveal all His sweetness. Calling Him “beloved” asks Him to place His hand upon them in a mood corresponding to their particular love.

Alternatively, “granting fearlessness” declares His heroism in removing sins connected with worldly existence. The hand is charming and fulfills desire, giving both happiness by its nature and every cherished object. By holding the hand of Śrī, goddess of fortune, and bringing Her under His control in Gokula, it becomes the shelter of every prosperity. That hand alone can end their fear of separation, bestow their desired union, and bring every wealth that accompanies His attainment. As the foremost Vṛṣṇi, the crown jewel of Vraja's royal clan, He is naturally their protector and must not neglect them. In both readings, “place it upon our heads” means “fully accept us as Your own.”

Bhāgavata 10.31.6

O destroyer of Vraja's distress, heroic one whose smile destroys the pride of Your own beloved women, O friend, attend upon us, Your maidservants. Show us Your beautiful lotus face.

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

In their agitation they first asked only to be accepted. In this and the next two verses they request the particular objects they desire. Here they ask generally for His company. “Attend upon us” means “remain nearby and counteract our pain.” Yet even that hope seems too great, so they reduce the request: “First simply show us Your charming lotus-like face.”

Calling Him “destroyer of Vraja's distress” shows that He is fit to remain with them. Otherwise, if their suffering reaches its final state, His role as destroyer of distress will fail. “Hero” proclaims His power to give even what cannot ordinarily be given. The mere smile of His beloved destroys the māna of His own dear women, so He has no need to remain hidden for that purpose. The same phrase conveys the smile's supreme enchantment and therefore why they must see it.

“Friend” specifies the intimate manner in which He should attend them. Alternatively, if He refuses, their misery will later bring Him pain too, since friends share one another's suffering, or He will incur the fault of betraying their trust. Fearing that separation-born humility has made their address too bold even for friendship, they call themselves His maidservants. As women they lack the strength to reach Him and ask Him to reveal Himself through His own mercy.

Another reading takes “Your own people among women” as those dear women who belong to no other man. His smile destroys their pride, so He should attend upon these personal maidservants. The manner of His attendance is then explained from “Your lotus face” through “revive us” in verse 8.

In extreme anguish they may instead speak with loving anger: “O supposed destroyer of Vraja's distress, hero against women, powerful enough to kill them! Your deceptive smile makes Your own people flatter You. We are now no longer Your maidservants, so attend other women instead and do not show us Your beautiful lotus face, for our death is already certain.” The remaining implications stay the same.

Bhāgavata 10.31.7

Your lotus feet destroy the sins of embodied beings who bow to You, follow the grazing cows, serve as the abode of Śrī, and were placed upon the serpent's hoods. Put those feet upon our breasts and destroy the longing in our hearts.

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

To calm the inner burning of separation, they first seek contact with His limb outside the heart, like a medicinal paste. Yet humility makes them ask only to associate through hearing of that limb, so they begin by recounting its virtues.

His feet destroy the sins of creatures such as Nalakūvara and Kāliya who bowed once or somehow took shelter. How then could touching the gopīs bring sin upon Him? If He objects that their pride and other faults make such conduct improper, they answer that, like Kāliya's, the offenses of those who bow to Him must disappear.

He may say, “Even so, I cannot place such tender feet upon something so hard.” They reply that those feet follow grazing animals who eat mere grass and even stones placed before them, showing His supreme humility. “Like those animals, we deserve compassion.”

He may ask how His feet could properly rest upon their exceedingly beautiful breasts. They answer that His foot is the abode of Śrī. As the resting place of unsurpassed beauty, it would become their finest ornament.

He may say that His timid nature makes Him fear their husbands. They answer that those feet rested upon Kāliya's hoods. Because they destroy poison and every related danger, they are also fit to destroy heart-longing, which resembles poison. These four qualifications thus establish their power to remove sin and every obstacle.

Does the gopīs' request end with those benefits? No. “Destroy the longing in our hearts” is their sole purpose. Yet verse 19 will show that even this heart-longing is wholly composed of affection. Earlier they humbly used the singular “upon our head,” thinking that if His hand touched even one head He would thereby accept them all. Now greed makes them use the plural “upon our breasts.” Mere indirect contact is no longer enough for humility; each one longs for direct contact.

Bhāgavata 10.31.8

Lotus-eyed hero, Your sweet voice, charming words, and speech delightful to the wise have made us Your maidservants. We are falling into bewilderment. Revive us with the intoxicating nectar of Your lips.

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

The distinctive speech from His fragrant mouth awakened a desire to drink its sweetness, and the resulting fever has now advanced to the point of bewilderment. The gopīs fear that no other medicine can cure it. They therefore ask, in addition to external contact with His limb, for an inwardly uniting drink: the nectar of the moon that is His mouth, a liquid medicine from those very lips.

Bhāgavata 10.31.9

The nectar of Your stories is life for those scorched by suffering. Praised by sages, it removes all impurity. Auspicious to hear, filled with splendor, and spread everywhere, it is proclaimed on earth by those who give the greatest gift.

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

Someone may ask, "How, then, do you remain alive?" The gopīs answer by glorifying Kṛṣṇa's stories, whose greatness they have ascertained through the evidence of their own love-filled experience. They explain the cause of their survival with the words "the nectar of Your stories."

His story itself is nectar. Like nectar, it is both a reward in itself and a means to further rewards. They show how it has both qualities. It gives life to those scorched by the heat of separation from You, and how much more to those scorched by worldly suffering. It protects them from a plight that would otherwise end in death. For those suffering separation, it is their very life. This is evident from such verses as "His feet are worshiped on the road by the elders" (Bhāgavata 10.35.22), and "Indra, Śiva, Brahmā, and the other foremost gods became overwhelmed" (Bhāgavata 10.35.15).

It is praised by self-satisfied sages such as Brahmā, Śiva, and the Four Kumāras, and therefore certainly by others. The past participle here carries a present sense: it is continually praised. The meaning is that those sages merely repeat and extol what we residents of Vraja describe. They cannot describe it independently, because they do not know its secret.

It destroys impurity. By the power that makes everything else lose its charm, it even destroys obstacles arising within the heart, and how much more the merit and sin that cause worldly existence. Although it has all these qualities, merely hearing it is auspicious and accomplishes every desired end. How much more is gained by reflecting on its meaning. It is therefore "filled with splendor," endowed everywhere with unsurpassed excellence, and "spread abroad," pervading everything. These qualities distinguish it from ordinary nectar.

Whoever proclaims this nectar of Your stories anywhere on earth gives it to others in the form of narration. Such people are the greatest benefactors, for they bestow every attainment upon everyone. How much more is this true in Gokula, and most of all among us, scorched by separation from You, for here they give life itself. Elsewhere these benefactors are Brahmā and the others already mentioned; in Vraja they are all its residents, and for us especially they are our companions.

Or Kṛṣṇa may say, "You are utterly distraught. Until I revive you, pass a moment speaking among yourselves about Me." The gopīs answer in alarm with a contrary interpretation. Your story is itself death, for the story itself kills us. Why? Because it is life cast into burning heat, like water poured into boiling oil. Your own poets praise it as a destroyer of impurity, meaning that it destroys the listener together with the impurity. It is called auspicious merely when heard about, but its auspiciousness is not experienced. "Filled with splendor and spread abroad" means that the pride produced by its beauty and opulence, and its disregard for its own people, have spread everywhere among those who savor it. Therefore those who proclaim it are "great givers" only in the ironic sense that they strike down many lives. This is an utterance born of supreme anguish. The verbal root do can mean cutting apart. The sense is: we now wish to remain alive for just a moment in the hope of finding You, so enough of that story.

Bhāgavata 10.31.10

Beloved, Your radiant laughter, Your loving glances, Your pastimes that bring auspiciousness when contemplated, and those intimate words spoken in private that touch the heart all agitate our minds, O deceiver.

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

This follows the first interpretation of the previous verse. Kṛṣṇa may object, "You are capable of reflection. Why do you cherish such intense attachment to Me, when I am so difficult to attain? And if you do cherish it, be satisfied simply by hearing stories about Me." Because hearing those stories does not satisfy them, the gopīs criticize, in three verses, the very conduct by which He awakened their earlier attachment. They say that they cannot live for long even on hope: "Your radiant laughter..." The past participle is used here as an abstract noun. Some manuscripts read "glance" rather than "laughter."

First came His radiant laughter. The mere sight of the gopīs made His emotion overflow, producing a laugh more pronounced and exuberant than His natural smile. What kind of laughter was it? It contained a glance filled with love. Then came His roaming pastimes, His special games with His companions. What were they like? They were auspicious in meditation. Because they disclosed His own feelings, contemplating them bound the gopīs with hope.

Then came His intimate exchanges in private. He would go alone to some secluded place at a distance and speak playful words through His flute and by other means. What were those exchanges like? They touched the heart, showing that they were intimate in every respect. The relative pronoun "those which" conveys a special sense of wonder here. By adjusting gender and case, it should also be supplied with each preceding expression. Each successive experience is more excellent than the one before it.

Bhāgavata 10.31.11

When You leave Vraja to graze the animals, O master, we fear that stones, grass, and tender shoots will hurt Your feet, beautiful as lotuses. O beloved, our minds become deeply troubled.

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

In this verse and the next, the gopīs say that Kṛṣṇa gives them agitation equally in union and separation, not merely on occasion. The words "from Vraja" imply that their distress lasts from the instant He sets out until He returns.

"While grazing the animals" suggests the possible injury caused by stones and the other things named in the verse. To graze the countless animals of many kinds, He must leave the path and wander here and there. There is also a play on the animals' lack of discrimination: being mere beasts, alas, they roam even along paths difficult for His lotus feet. "Stone" can include fallen wild grain still bearing its husk or awn. The Harivaṁśa speaks of "a forest of ajhilli thorns" (Harivaṁśa 2.8.23). Because there are not thorns everywhere, the verse does not mention them.

The two affectionate forms of address explain the special cause of the gopīs' distress. "Master" means "Lord of Vraja," suggesting that such conduct is unbecoming for Him. "Beloved" suggests that those feet ought to be touched only by their own tender hands. Or He is the master of all the people of Vraja, but especially the beloved of the gopīs. Or "master" may be reproachful: "O You who torment Your own beloved people!"

Kṛṣṇa may say, "If you possess discrimination, abandon this thought of Me that causes you such pain." They answer, "Beloved," because even discrimination cannot banish concern for one who is dear. Or "master" explains why they become distressed: "O Lord of our lives!"

Someone may cite the maxim:

Sanskrit quotation, Hitopadeśa 4.78

As many cherished bonds as a creature forms in its mind, so many spikes of grief are driven into its heart.

If affection is thus declared a fault, why not reject affection itself? They answer, "Our mind becomes..." This movement is merely the mind's own resolve; it does not wait for the discriminating judgment of their intellect.

Kṛṣṇa may object, "But the mind is also yours." The gopīs show that even the mind is not at fault by calling Him "beloved," meaning "O stealer of the mind." Their intention is: "Ah, give up roaming in the forest and come here quickly."

Bhāgavata 10.31.12

At day's end You repeatedly show us Your lotus face, veiled by dark curls and thickly covered with the dust raised by the cows. O hero, in this way You arouse desire in our minds.

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

"At the complete ending of the day," at its very last boundary, indicates an increase in their pain. His blue-black curls cover His beautiful face above the forehead and thereby add an abundance of beauty. The words describe His naturally supreme loveliness.

For this reason the accepted reading is "covered with the dust of wealth." The Viśva-prakāśa lexicon gives go in the senses of cattle and wealth, so the phrase means that His face is sprinkled with the cows' dust. Even the dust makes His beauty more radiant, just as the Bhāgavata says, "charming with mud adorning His limbs" (10.8.23). More particularly, His dress as a cowherd is a stimulant of love for the gopīs, who belong to the cowherd community. Its mention therefore generally explains why He awakens desire in them.

More specifically, "at day's end," "with dark curls," and "showing" are each significant. The first is the time when desire awakens, while the last indicates an excess of emotion. If He entered His own home without showing Himself, He would not cast such desire upon them. Even then the word "repeatedly" is used. On the pretext of tending and gathering the cows, He looks all around again and again in many ways, repeatedly placing desire within them. Whenever they try to restrain it through forceful reflection, He repeatedly makes it surge forth. "In our minds" shows both that desire pervades the mind completely and that it cannot be countered. There is also a play on smara: mere remembrance of one's beloved agitates the heart, yet You place that very god of love directly within us. This indicates its power.

They indicate Kṛṣṇa's ability by calling Him "hero." Their affectionate anger and humor suggest, "Your heroism lies only in this, not anywhere else." In truth, "repeatedly" may be supplied with the meaning that He repeatedly kindles their own emotion. "Ah, merely seeing Him like that within Vraja awakened desire. Now, at night in the forest, He is dressed as an amorous lover for dalliance; in separation, intense remembrance can only make that desire grow. Do not delay."

These two verses also imply the following: "Every day You depart without fulfilling our longing. Yet our minds bear only affection for You; Your failure to fulfill it does not make us indifferent. The desire we bear has been inspired by You, not produced by us. It is born only from affection for You, never from harshness, because affection is its very nature. But when we approach You out of a desire for union, You give us only passion, not the meeting proper to mutual affection. Everything in us is therefore made of affection, while everything in You is made of deception."

Textual notes

Bhāgavata 10.31.13

O lover, place Your lotus feet upon our breasts. They grant the desires of those who bow before You, are worshiped by Lakṣmī, adorn the earth, are to be meditated upon in danger, and bestow the deepest peace. O destroyer of our pain, place them upon us.

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

In the verses beginning with "Your radiant laughter" (10.31.10), the greatest of sages, Śukadeva, has clarified Kṛṣṇa's previously undescribed first awakening of love for the gopīs through their own speech of love. Its supreme relish lies precisely in their describing Kṛṣṇa's attachment as they themselves experienced it.

They have placed the fault for their longing to touch His limbs upon Him. They conclude their two requests for that contact in the same spirit. Yet their own song has now aroused the agitation of love within them, so in this verse and the next they plead once more, beginning with "They grant the desires of those who bow."

Bhāgavata 10.31.14

O generous hero, give us the nectar of Your lips. It increases intimate love, destroys sorrow, is thoroughly kissed by Your resonant flute, and makes human beings forget every other attachment.

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

His lip is itself nectar. It increases surata, a distinctive form of love, the longing for union when union is absent. Like honey and other intoxicants, this nectar is inebriating. Even when obtained repeatedly it gives no satisfaction, so the gopīs' boldness in asking again is excused. It destroys sorrow, the felt pain of not attaining You, although in another sense it expands that pain. It makes even men forget every other attachment, and how much more women. What need is there to say that it makes us forget all else? By producing perpetual longing for itself, it brings every other attraction to a complete end.

They establish this through the phrase "by the resonant flute." Because the flute is conventionally masculine, its attainment of His lip nectar is spoken of by transferring the taste of that nectar to it, through its contact with His chewed betel and the like. The three expressions successively show that His lip nectar increases longing for itself, destroys the arising of any other sorrow, and makes one forget other objects. They thus demonstrate that it is the highest human attainment. The previous verse also showed these same three meanings, and the two verses should be understood as conveying a single purport. Thinking that there is nothing He cannot give, they call Him "hero," meaning a hero of generosity. The other details have been explained by earlier commentators.

The phrase can also mean that His lips are fragrant with the nectar of sound and offer an especially excellent drink through the flute. This indicates that they generate a special greed. Beautiful singing produces happiness in its hearers and awakens a desire for touch and the other forms of contact. By the principle that a scent permeates what bears it, even nectar becomes infused with nectar, while the two retain a slight distinction.

Or "kissed by the resonant flute" means that the flute has produced notes such as ṣaḍja and has kissed His lips. This displays the intoxicating power of His lip nectar. The flute's repeated kissing through repeated song reveals its shamelessness, while the sound born from that contact reveals its power to drive even the whole world mad.

Textual note

Bhāgavata 10.31.15

When You roam the forest by day, every instant becomes an age for those who cannot see You. And when we gaze upon Your beautiful face framed by curling locks, the creator of eyelids seems a senseless fool, for they obstruct our sight.

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

An instant becomes an age because a time of pain is so difficult to cross. This is an extreme condition. The gopīs cannot bear the misery of not seeing Him for so long, and their intention is, "Grant us Your sight at once." "For those who cannot see You" includes every resident of Vraja, and how much more the gopīs. His naturally beautiful face has curling locks arranged above it, and they gaze upward at that face. The conjunction "and" connects these phrases. The statement that the maker of eyelids is dull also applies to all others who gaze at Him and obstructs any objection on their behalf. The remaining details have been explained by earlier commentators.

Or the gopīs say to Kṛṣṇa, whose nature is impossible to reason about, "We have never received any happiness from You. On the contrary, we suffer both when we cannot see You and when we can." The first half of the verse describes their suffering while He is unseen. The phrase beginning "curling locks" describes their suffering even while seeing Him. The creator of eyelids is dull and ignorant. Because he failed to make the eyes unblinking, he deserves to be cursed.

Alternatively, the one who cuts off the eyelashes of those gazing at Kṛṣṇa is truly not dull but a connoisseur of rasa and a learned person. Or only one who has cut away the lashes from his own eyes is intelligent, and only he may gaze upward and truly see. We, whose vision is covered by eyelashes, are dull. Even when Kṛṣṇa stands before us, what do we actually see?

Bhāgavata 10.31.16

Unfailing one, we have completely transgressed the commands of husbands, sons, families, brothers, and relatives and have come to You. Knowing our movements, You enchanted us with Your song. What man would abandon women at night, O cheat?

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

Given all this, the gopīs say that what Kṛṣṇa has done tonight is utterly improper. "Relatives" includes mother, father, and the rest. They have "completely transgressed" all these people: they disobeyed their words, gave up their affection, disregarded religious duty and every other consideration, and crossed beyond those bonds at their very root.

Why did they come? They were enchanted by His loud song, like does spellbound by music. Nor was His song accidental. "Knowing our movements" means that He sang deliberately, knowing that they would come.

Or Kṛṣṇa may ask, "You are exceptionally composed. How could a mere song bewilder you?" They answer that they know the special movements and modes of His music, those by which "Indra, Śiva, Brahmā, and the other foremost gods" become overwhelmed (Bhāgavata 10.35.15).

Or He may say, "You are clever and even know that this is My nature. Why were you not cautious?" They answer, "We did know Your nature, but Your song is virtually an incantation of enchantment." The source marks the precise reading of the phrase describing His music as uncertain.

But let all that be. After women have been brought there by the man himself, who would then abandon them at night? The optative "would abandon" expresses impossibility: no one would. Therefore they call Him "cheat," one whose nature is deception. The reproach carries a further distinction. Even another gambler would not abandon such women, for he conducts his affairs with whatever he has obtained through his gambling. Thus Kṛṣṇa's rejection makes Him worse even than other cheats. They also call Him "unfailing," one who never deviates from His own qualities. Their irony implies that this name indeed suits Him perfectly: He never departs from His deceptive nature.

Bhāgavata 10.31.17

Seeing Your intimate exchanges, the awakening of desire in Your heart, Your brightly smiling face and loving glances, and Your broad chest, the abode of Lakṣmī, our minds repeatedly reel with overwhelming longing.

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

The gopīs have seen the awakening of desire in Kṛṣṇa's heart. What was that awakening like? Intimate conversation took place within it. The expression is an aluk compound, in which the case ending remains. They also saw His face, upon which an especially radiant smile appeared, and His loving glance.

The word "broad" describes a distinctive beauty in His chest that awakens a desire for a tight embrace. His chest is the abode of Śrī, the treasury of every excellence, who naturally appears there as a golden line. Having seen all this, "our overwhelming longing" arises. The absolutive "having seen" indicates that their act of seeing preceded their longing to behold and experience Him. To emphasize the longing's independence, longing itself is figuratively treated as the one that sees.

The full meaning is that their minds become bewildered by overwhelming longing. Citsukha reads the word as an adverb, "with intense longing." That longing is either to experience each of the features just described or simply to meet Him. "The mind becomes bewildered" reveals the longing's utmost intensity.

Alternatively, "having seen" refers to what occurred earlier. It may be understood in precisely the ways already explained. But now, as each emotion reaches excess, death itself draws near. Their longing therefore cannot be restrained or counteracted. This also reveals their own supreme humility.

Bhāgavata 10.31.18

Beloved, Your appearance among the people of Vraja and the forest utterly destroys their suffering and brings auspiciousness to the whole universe. We have made longing for You our very self. Please grant us even a little of that which destroys the heartache of Your own people.

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

By revealing the awakening of desire in His own heart, Kṛṣṇa Himself has generated many distinct emotions within the gopīs. Filled with His emotion, they develop corresponding desires, thinking, "Ah, His fever of love would be calmed in this way and that." Their affection for Him is still stronger because it arises from their very nature. Their hearts burst open with longings made entirely of such affection, and in their humility they present their plea in this verse and the next.

"Among the people of Vraja and the forest" refers to both the residents of the settlement and the forest dwellers. His "appearance" means His becoming manifest, and therefore implies that His disappearance is improper. "Beloved" is an affectionate address.

His appearance does not merely destroy the suffering of those residents. Being the auspiciousness of the entire universe, it destroys everyone's suffering. Or it gives every happiness to those very residents. The word "utterly" may be joined with either meaning: it utterly destroys misery and is utterly auspicious. Therefore, in relation to us, give something that will calm our pain.

Kṛṣṇa may say, "Because you too are residents of Vraja, the suffering created by the various calamities will certainly be calmed for you as it is for the others. What more do you ask?" They answer, "For us, who have made longing for You our very self." Their entire mind and being rest solely in the longing to attain Him.

He may object, "The people of Vraja and the forest also long for Me. What is distinctive about you?" They answer, "Your own people." Even among those residents there are particular intimate people such as us. Give what destroys the pains in their hearts. They ask for "even a little" because the gift is exceedingly rare, or because this is the humble manner of a beggar.

In truth, the plural "pains of the heart" and the intensive force of the prefix in "destroys" imply unending variety. Their desires concerning Him cannot be removed. On the contrary, they perpetually increase, becoming newer at every moment, and their heartaches therefore assume ever new forms.

Bhāgavata 10.31.19

Beloved, Your exquisitely tender lotus feet are so delicate that we fearfully place them very gently upon our hard breasts. Yet with those same feet You roam the forest. Are they not hurt by pebbles and the like? Our minds reel, for our very lives belong to You.

Jīva Gosvāmī's Laghu-vaiṣṇava-toṣaṇī

Kṛṣṇa may ask, "What are those pains in your hearts, and what would destroy them?" As if weeping, the gopīs point to the answer with the verse beginning "Your exquisitely tender feet."

The metaphor "lotus feet" already establishes their softness, but the adjective "exquisitely formed" expresses a tenderness surpassing even that of a lotus. This is why the gopīs place them down "gently." Why are they so cautious? Because they are afraid. Why are they afraid? Because their breasts are hard.

When they say, "We place them upon our breasts," they address Him as "beloved." Because He is beloved, His feet belong in their hearts. Even bodily, the breasts alone are a fitting place to hold them. Yet "with those same feet You roam the forest," meaning that even now, at night, He wanders in the woods. This is why they speak repeatedly of holding His feet alone. Their affection for those feet grows still more intense from fear that something unwanted may happen to them.

Earlier, when Kṛṣṇa went to graze the cows, He generally roamed grassy ground, so they spoke of stones and tender shoots. Now He wanders along the Yamunā's bank above the sandy shore, which appears largely rough, so they speak of pebbles and the like. By the inherent nature of Śrī Vṛndāvana at that time, there was actually no danger from such things anywhere. Nevertheless, by the maxim that the hearts of loving relatives always fear misfortune, a principle perhaps echoed in the Abhijñāna-śākuntala, such anxiety inevitably arises within them.

"Our minds reel." Why? "Our very lives belong to You." The song began in this same mood with "we have placed our lives in You" and repeated it in the middle with "when You leave Vraja" (Bhāgavata 10.31.11). Whatever pain those feet undergo therefore arises within the gopīs' own life. Their meaning is, "Now we cannot preserve our lives by any means."

These very fears are the pains of their hearts. What destroys them is Kṛṣṇa's own joyful repose, with tender caresses, upon the supremely beloved part of their bodies. Their plea is therefore, "Come back at once." If the alternate reading is "You lead," it still means "You go," from the verbal root naya, which, like paya, can mean motion.

All the gopīs' emotions are thus made solely of love. The same must be understood of the Supreme Lord, as indicated by His thought, "Ah, these women are wholly made of love for Me," and similar statements. Only His gift of Himself, an act filled with the highest bliss, is a fitting response. Reflecting on precisely what is proper in each circumstance, He develops the corresponding desires for loving pastimes. Sensitive connoisseurs devoted exclusively to this rasa should infer other such meanings in the same way.

Textual note