In Gauḍīyā Vedānta we worship an open secret. In Gauḍīyā Vedānta we worship a weak God, a “perfectly flawed” entity, who is constantly defeated by the strength of the affection around him. At the hands of his most intimate servants, Bhagavān is won over every single day, in every possible way: tied by Yaśodāmāyī, defeated in wrestling by Śrīdāma, and scolded by Rādhā and her sakhīs. In Gauḍīyā Vedānta we worship a weak God because we worship love above God, as he himself does. This is a very special type of love, and thus, a very special type of God.
The essence of God is then not his status as God, but his capacity and disposition to transcend himself in divine love and eventually “become” Śrī Kṛṣṇa (since prema implies not only an eternal being, but an eternal becoming as well). Śrī Vraja Kṛṣṇa clearly exhibits such dynamism—the “God” designation is discarded while svarūpa-śaktyānanda is there to facilitate this level of transcendence in his own life. When the All-Attractive becomes supremely attracted by his own form (it being somehow reflected here and there) at a point beyond time, that rūpa-mādhurya is a direct consequence of a particular type of prema striking Bhagavān in a specific way; thus, he is “carving” a very specific form of himself, which is the result of the love he has received. For example, Śrī Kṛṣṇa pretends to show his catur-bhuja form in front of Rādhā, only to find two of those four arms shrinking into nothingness in the face of her divine love.
Even though Śrī Hari is generally known as ātmārāma, for and by himself, by his very nature (and that of his svarūpa-śakti) he becomes what Ṭhākura Bhaktivinoda would call pararama, or “supremely dissatisfied” in the context of self-satisfaction. This brings Bhagavān to the point of a new inconceivable equation—the bigger the dissatisfaction, the greater the ānanda. In this consideration, even the ātmārāma stage (also present in self-satisfied sages) is something to be transcended in pursuit of a higher taste, as the Bhāgavata mentions in his famous ātmārāma verse:
ātmārāmāś ca munayo nirgranthā apy urukrame kurvanty ahaitukīṁ bhaktim ittham-bhūta-guṇo hariḥ
“All different varieties of ātmārāmas, especially those established on the path of self-realization, though freed from all kinds of material bondage, desire to render unalloyed devotional service unto the Personality of Godhead. This means that the Lord possesses transcendental qualities and therefore can attract everyone, including liberated souls.” (1.7.10)
This most important śloka was explained by Mahāprabhu in eighteen different ways to Sārvabhauma Bhaṭṭācārya, and in sixty-one different ways to Sanātana Goswāmī. Indeed, there is no other verse that Śrī Gaurāṅga had glossed so much during his līlā, and there is good reason for that—it powerfully teaches how an ātmārāma (Śukadeva Goswāmī being the prime example in the Bhāgavata) will leave behind not only every material attachment but even his self-satisfied state, attracted by Hari’s unmatched attributes in the context of bhakti. In other words, the Bhāgavata’s ātmārāma mahā-vākya represents its main pramāṇa regarding the superiority of devotion over jñāna, prema above mukti. That said, being that ātmārāma is also another name for Kṛṣṇa, this verse could ultimately apply to him as well. And, it should.
Being properly churned, the Bhāgavata perpetually reveals secret meanings in its eternal pages, just as grinding the green leaves of henna gradually manifests its reddish content within. Thus, our inspiration for any novel insight must be properly grounded in scripture and blessed by our pūrva-ācāryas. In this regard, we receive a unique hint in the first verse of rāsa-pañcādhyāya (10.29.1), which says that “although Śrī Kṛṣṇa is Bhagavān (bhagavān api), he made up (cakre) his mind (manaś) to enjoy (rantuṁ) with the gopīs.” Commenting on this śloka, Śrīla Jīva Goswāmī mentions that “Bhagavān here refers to Kṛṣṇa being ātmārāma and āptakāma, although he desired to enjoy anyway on the ground of such self-satisfaction. Just as ātmārāmas (although fully satisfied) perform bhakti to Kṛṣṇa, in the same way Kṛṣṇa himself, although being Bhagavān and thus fully satisfied, yet desired to enjoy with the gopīs.”
So, in the same way that ātmārāma sages become “something more” by contacting bhakti and Bhagavān, Ātmārāma Śrī Kṛṣṇa also becomes something more by being in touch with those attributes he possesses that are actually the result of interacting with his own svarūpa-śakti. This interaction creates such astounding features within it, that God himself feels incomplete before such a scenario. In other words, when Rasarāja Śrī Kṛṣṇa witnesses the ultimate zenith of mahā-bhāva, Śrī Rādhā, he is thrown into a totally new situation where he realizes that there is something in him that makes Rādhā the way she is, thus developing a particular void in himself and a consequent desire to taste such an experience. Hence, there will be only one possible solution to such a dilemma, the form of Śrī Caitanya.
He is that same person who presented the ātmārāma verse in so many different ways, except for one “missing” explanation: he never considered exposing himself in the lines of such śloka. In his natural humility, and due to the depth of his descent, Śrī Gaura Kṛṣṇa tried to avoid this, but the actual duty of every devotee is to lovingly expose his/her own iṣṭadeva for the pleasure of the iṣṭadeva’s servants. So here we go—attempting to point to the Golden Lord, the natural evolution of Kṛṣṇa’s divine dissatisfaction, as well as the subsequent līlā that manifests, in order to solve such a riddle – all of which has been loudly proclaimed in the pages of the Bhāgavata, especially in the ātmārāma verse.
As previously mentioned, the word ātmārāma can refer in this verse to Śrī Kṛṣṇa, who takes pleasure in himself. Also, the word munayo (thinkers) applies naturally to him as well as the word nirgranthā, or that person who is beyond all bondage and/or standard statements of scripture. That said, he will leave such a privileged state by becoming attracted to his own wonderful qualities (ittham-bhūta-guṇo hariḥ) and pursuing his desire to experience bhakta-bhāva. Thus, he engages in unalloyed bhakti to himself (kurvanty ahaitukīṁ bhaktim), such as when Rādhā Ṭhākurāṇī worships his beloved Urukrama (“the great adventurer”). But, how can Śrī Kṛṣṇa engage in bhakti to Śrī Kṛṣṇa? By considering the abheda perspective of our bheda-abheda equation, Kṛṣṇa’s svarūpa-śakti is actually one with him, and in that sense this particular rendering can be possible when Śrī Kṛṣṇa adopts the mood and luster of his parā-śakti, appearing as Śrī Gaura Kṛṣṇa. Trying to honor Mahāprabhu’s careful and multifold presentation of this gem, and also considering the possibility of rasābhāsa and viruddha-siddhānta in my own words, I have consulted with different renowned Vaiṣṇava Sanskrit paṇḍitas and they mercifully approved the current interpretation, ensuring that both tattva and bhāva perspectives were duly included in it.
Apart from Mahāprabhu’s thievery regarding Rādhā’s love in the context of his channa-avatāra-līlā, we can certainly say That one of the reasons for Gaura’s silence here was his outstanding modesty. For example, when Śrī Rūpa was presenting some of his poetry about Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa before the Lord and his associates, a beautiful verse glorifying Mahāprabhu eventually emerged. Although inwardly pleased, Gaura outwardly dismissed it as “a drop of detestable poison in an ocean of nectar.” Rāya Rāmānanda responded that such a drop was not poison but camphor—something cooling and fragrant. Yet Gaura expressed shame, thinking people might mock the subject of such verses. Rāmānanda delivered the proverbial checkmate: “Instead of joking, people in general will feel great pleasure in hearing such poetry, for the initial remembrance of the worshipable Deity invokes good fortune.”
Thus, the devotees who insisted that Śrī Rūpa include a gaura-candrikā—a moonbeam of Gaura—in his nāṭakas (like Lalita-mādhava and Vidagdha-mādhava) sweetly disagreed with Gaura, supported Rūpa, and ultimately won the case, resulting in the famous anarpita-carīṁ cirāt śloka.
This is what we know as gaura-līlā—that eternal moment where Śrī Kṛṣṇa, stunned by the power of Śrī Rādhā’s experience, begins to doubt his own supremacy. Transcendentally dissatisfied, he sets out in pursuit of her bhāva, having glimpsed a supreme form of svarūpa-śaktyānanda he could never have conceived. Gaura-Kṛṣṇa thus becomes the embodiment of divine dissatisfaction, revealing the most fragile yet volcanic face of the Absolute. While Śrī Vraja-Kṛṣṇa may be regarded as the Supreme Personality of Godhead, Śrīman Mahāprabhu is indeed the Supreme Personality of Kṛṣṇa.
Gaura-līlā teaches us a most valuable lesson: our greatest prospect lies in the land of vulnerability. And that’s our open secret. That’s the God we worship.
Reflecting on his own vulnerability—and what brought him here to resolve his existential dilemma—perhaps this is why Mahāprabhu chose to explain the ātmārāma verse so many times, extolling the virtues of divine dissatisfaction and its ultimate expression in his own dispensation. So, even though we are to conceal our iṣṭadeva within the innermost chamber of the heart, we must also qualify ourselves to reveal him in a way that pleases him.
Rāya Rāmānanda did just that at the end of his saṁvāda with Gaura—so much so that Gaura had to cover his mouth, fearing he would say too much. Likewise, Mahāprabhu told Sanātana Gosvāmī that it was only by his association that he was inspired to reveal so many meanings of the ātmārāma verse, concluding, “If one becomes a madman like me, he may also understand the meaning of Bhāgavata as I have.”
In this way, may Śrī Guru and Gaurāṅga bless us all, that we may one day acquire the necessary madness to truly understand the Bhāgavata—sincerely hoping that Śrī Śacīnandana will one day shut our mouth and cast us into his nitya-līlā, our land of no return.
