How to develop Ruchi in Harināma?

December 20, 2024

Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Saraswati Ṭhākura Prabhūpāda ( Translated for first time in English dated 17.12.2024 from Bhāgvata Patrikā Year 18_1972 -73 _issue_12, and Weekly Gaudīya Patrīka). Dedicated in the name of Gauḍīya  Goṣṭhī Pati Śrī Śrīla Bhakti Siddhānta Sarasvatī Gosvāmī Ṭhākura Prabhupāda Paramahaṁsa Jagd Guru.

How to develop Ruchi in Harināma?

To develop an interest in the holy name of Hari, it is first essential to understand what nāma truly is. Śrīla Rūpa Gosvāmī has said:

nikhila-śruti-mauli-ratna-mālā

dyuti-nīrājita-pāda-paṅkajānta

api mukta-kulair upāsyamānaṁ

paritas tvāṁ hari-nāma saṁśrayāmi

The nāma is not an inert substance. Where a name merely refers to an inert object and there exists a distinction between the name (nāma) and the named (nāmī), such a conception does not apply to Hari-nāma. The holy name is not a conventional word derived from material grammar or linguistic rules. All other words refer to independent objects distinct from themselves, but the Hari-nāma speaks for itself.

Those who take the holy name are conscious beings, declaring, “O Hari-nāma, I am your servant. I have accepted your shelter.” Those who chant Hari-nāma are servants of the name, subservient to the divine presence of the name.

In this material world, words other than the name of Hari point to various objects. All objects indicated by mundane words are processed through the senses and ultimately comprehended by the mind. Each sense has its independent function. Words are uttered by the tongue but cannot be tasted by it; they cannot be touched by the skin, and only the ears can perceive them.

Hari-nāma does not belong to the same category as these words. Mundane words enter the ears and prompt the other senses to inquire about the object they signify. A word indicates its referent (śabdī), which is a material, sensory-perceptible object. When words enter the ears, they communicate to the other senses, saying, “You must now understand what the object is.”

Just as finite objects can be defined, so too, by contrast, can we describe the infinite through negation or abstraction. In relation to finite objects, the senses are employed to measure and comprehend their nature. However, that which has no boundary—no limit—remains beyond all attempts to fathom it. Such an entity is referred to as “infinity” (ananta), encapsulated in a single word that signifies the boundless.

When the object of knowledge is finite, the senses are engaged to perceive and analyze it. However, Hari is not a finite object. He transcends all limitations that define the finite. Indeed, He surpasses the boundaries of finite objects, rendering their limitations null and void. And yet, when He transcends the infinite, He simultaneously manifests in the finite. This dual nature is unique to Hari: the infinite cannot descend to the finite, but Hari, who is infinite, can harmoniously embody both the finite and the infinite.

Finite objects can never possess the characteristics of the infinite. In matters of space or dimension, whatever flaws or insignificance may be attributed to finite objects cannot be imputed to Hari. The infinite, though boundless, contains within it an element of limitation—this is the nature of ananta. However, in Hari, the concepts of finite (sīmita) and infinite (asīmita) are not contradictory but coexist harmoniously.

Hari is the all-encompassing reality, the one who absorbs and transcends all things. Whether finite or infinite, all categories find their ultimate resolution and unity within Him. He is simultaneously the measure of all things and the immeasurable itself. Such is the inconceivable nature of the Supreme.

The sun is referred to as kapiḥ (from kaṁ jalaṁ pibati iti kapiḥ), meaning “the one who drinks water,” as it draws water from the earth. But Hari does not merely draw water; He has the power to draw and attract all elements of this material world—earth (kṣiti), water (ap), fire (tejas), air (marut), and ether (vyoma). He can attract and assimilate both existence (bhāva) and non-existence (abhāva).

This act of “haraṇa” (drawing or absorbing) should not be understood in an abstract or formless sense. It is through a specific, divine attraction that Hari is known as Viṣṇu. Hari possesses the capacity to draw both the present and the absent, the manifest and the unmanifest. Viṣṇu is thus a name used in a universal sense, denoting His all-pervading nature.

Failing to comprehend this profound nature of Hari, we sometimes resort to describing Him as nirvikāra (unchanging) or nirākāra (formless). The eyes, being limited, cannot grasp the infinite. That which is beyond the grasp of vision, though endowed with an infinite and specific form, is often called formless (nirākāra). However, when the sky is called infinite, it paradoxically becomes perceptible to the senses, and thus comes within the purview of the finite. The so-called infinite then becomes a multiple of something indefinite—a conceptual extension that can still be measured by the limits of the eyes.

In this mutable world, we perceive nothing that is unchanging. Through the process of neti neti (“not this, not this”), we speculate about what might be unchanging. In attempting to point to an entity beyond our comprehension, we negate the presence of what is immediately within our grasp. By rejecting the visible phenomena (dṛśya), we shift our focus to what lies beyond them, seeking the ultimate reality behind the veil of appearances.

Thus, the essence of Hari transcends the limitations of form and formlessness, of phenomena and noumena, embracing all opposites and resolving them within His inconceivable nature.

Material scientists may think they have comprehended everything, yet what they perceive cannot be the essence denoted by the term Īśvara (the Supreme Lord). What they understand becomes bound, subordinate, or servile—it ceases to retain any relation to the divine sovereignty. Even the thought of such comprehension does not exist. Words like nirākāra (formless), nirvikāra (immutable), or avyaktitva (impersonal) are merely attempts to deny or reject the divine personality of Bhagavān.

That which is not subservient to me, which lies beyond my grasp, is given a term—a mere word devoid of direct experience. This word does not emerge from the substance it aims to signify. Using such words, we point to the negation of objects within this material world, and consider that negation to be “great.” But this so-called greatness is only a partial perception of the Supreme, indivisible reality (advaya-tattva). Our understanding, confined to fragments, embraces only half of the truth, while the other half remains unknown to us.

Our senses perceive only hemispheres—partial realities. The other half of the circle always remains beyond perception, continually rejected or overlooked. These observations are being made concerning deśa (space).

Now, concerning kāla (time), many things have been recorded in history—the movements of the sun, the revolutions of planets and stars, the occurrence of worldly events—all of these are within the realm of temporal consideration. But leaving aside the domain of finite time, we speak of the transcendent realm beyond time using terms like Mahākāla (the Great Time).

Mahākāla is an uninterrupted awareness or cognition of time—an infinite, unbroken flow. Terms like three years, three-and-a-half years, or other segmented measures of time point only to fragments. By focusing on one segment, the other is invariably excluded. Bhagavān, who transcends time, is referred to as Mahākāla because He absorbs and dissolves fragmented time (khaṇḍa-kāla).

Yet, because He also enters into fragmented time to orchestrate the affairs of the material world, He is also called Khaṇḍa-kāla. However, He cannot be confined within the bounds of fragmented time. Rather, He draws both kāla (time) and Mahākāla (infinite time) into Himself, transcending and encompassing them both. Such is the incomprehensible nature of the Supreme.

When considering the concept of pātra (container or vessel), it becomes evident that the vessel denotes individuality—a distinct entity defined within the parameters of time (kāla) and space (deśa), incorporating their factors into its essence.

A fragmented pātra is akin to a specific individual, confined by a limited span of time and space—a person who exists in a particular moment and place. In contrast, another pātra might encompass not only the present individual but also all past and future beings; such a conception is imagined as the Virāṭa form, the cosmic entity.

The “one” pātra becomes “many” through its reflections and appearances. Just as light reflected in a single glass of water may also be reflected in a thousand glasses, or as an image replicated infinitely between parallel mirrors, so too is the “one” multiplied. However, this multiplicity is not an actual division of the entity—it is merely the resemblance of that entity appearing manifold. The essential oneness of the entity remains unbroken and undiminished.

Within a particular span of space and time, the Vigraha of Viṣṇu can manifest as a substratum. However, the external world must not, even mistakenly, be equated with such a form. Viṣṇu is imbued with a power far surpassing that of the material universe. He has the potency to negate the arguments and constructs of all beings within the cosmos and remain transcendent over them.

He can absorb the vessel itself, drawing it into His eternal, self-realized existence. He can seize the fleeting and finite nature of mundane human life and establish it within the eternal realm of the soul’s existence. It is not merely the finite objects that He can draw into Himself—His capacity for harana (absorption) transcends such limitations.

All words are, in essence, Hari. Beyond Hari, no other word exists. The very term Hari carries within it the intrinsic quality of harana—to attract, to absorb, to take away. A Hari devoid of this characteristic of harana ceases to be Hari.

Hari is not merely a designation; He is the all-encompassing, indivisible reality that transcends yet incorporates all multiplicities within His oneness. His very nature is to absorb the temporal into the eternal, the finite into the infinite.

Just as conventional words like ghoḍā (horse) denote their literal meanings, many attempt to understand deeper metaphorical, historical, or spiritual significances. However, the word Hari does not confine itself to such limited contexts. Within Hari, both personality and impersonality coexist simultaneously and harmoniously, transcending the conventional logic that governs other terms. Among all the words conjured by so-called rational speculation, the word Hari possesses a depth and potency far surpassing them all.

When the word Hari enters the ears, it carries such immense power that it obliterates all other forms of recognition or identification at that moment. A word that aims at the Absolute does not deny the relative—it does not forsake the finite. For example, the word Brahma does not preserve the particular; it exclusively aims at the infinite vastness. However, when such vastness is presented, human senses are overwhelmed, rendered inert by its enormity. The sheer potency of the term silences all other faculties of perception. Yet, this does not reveal the full expressive capacity of the word Hari. A constrained understanding of Hari—separated from its context of wholeness—fails to convey its ultimate essence.

Just as designations like “four” exclude one, two, three, five, and so on, limiting the scope of measurement, such reductionism does not apply to Hari. The word Hari is not constrained by numerical, spatial, or conceptual boundaries. It does not merely establish a position or definition; it transcends them, pointing to the boundless realm of Vaikuṇṭha, the eternal and infinite. In measuring or categorizing, we lose the essence of the word Hari.

Hari is the Name itself. In the Karmadhāraya samāsa, Hariś ca iti nāma cāsau—“He who is Hari is also the Name.” O Hari-nāma! I have wholly taken refuge in You, relinquishing all else. I have sought the shelter of the word Hari alone.

Even those who have attained liberation—those for whom no further duty remains in this world—worship You, Hari-nāma. Hari-nāma is neither unconscious nor an imaginary construct. It is not a visible, tangible entity of this material world. It transcends all mundane objects. When we take refuge in Hari-nāma, we do so completely and exclusively, with no other recourse. We accept Vaikuṇṭha in its entirety, embracing the word Hari as our sole shelter.

There is no distinction between the Name (nāma) and the Named (nāmī). The Name itself is the Named. The two are non-different; they are the same Reality. In this spirit, I have sought refuge in You, O Hari-nāma.

Question: What if there is an error in such a deliberation?

Answer: Such a possibility does not exist. All the divine words of Vaikuṇṭha, revealed through the most profound expressive functions of meaning, are embraced and substantiated by Hari-nāma. If someone from the Christian tradition claims that their scriptures (śāstras) are different, the possibility of such differentiation is negated by the term nikhila (all-encompassing). All scriptures that have descended into this world, those that have not yet descended, and those that will never manifest in this fragmented span of time—all these sacred words ultimately point toward Hari-nāma.

The highest culmination of all these scriptures is like a garland of luminous gems (ratna-mālā), whose radiance performs the nīrājana—the offering of light in reverence to Hari-nāma. The act of bathing the sacred form of Hari-nāma with pure, cooling water and gently warming it to a perfect balance signifies this ceremonial worship. This is nīrājana. The “feet” of Hari-nāma are the pāda-padma (lotus feet), whose inner sanctity is perpetually purified and adorned. No blemish or impurity can ever taint Hari-nāma. To take refuge in this sacred Name is the essence of the teachings of the Ācāryas.

If one seeks a Hari-nāma tailored to their convenience, such a Hari-nāma is nothing more than a mundane construct of a conditioned soul (baddha-jīva). Someone may claim, “I am Bengali, so my Hari-nāma is this,” while another might say, “I belong to another nation; therefore, my word for the divine differs.” Such distinctions, based on caste, nationality, or societal frameworks, are not necessary for us. Words born of such discriminations lack love and cannot serve as a medium for true devotion to the Name. Without nāma-bhajana, no other path can lead to the ultimate goal.

When the devotion of the conditioned soul (baddha-jīva) matures and expands, it reaches the level of nāma-bhajana meant for liberated souls (mukta-jīva). The instruction here is to develop a taste for the Names of Vaikuṇṭha and not for those names associated with transient, worldly purposes. One must not use Hari-nāma to fulfill materialistic desires—whether to cure epidemics like cholera, alleviate famine, or resolve worldly calamities.

The Hari-nāma must be worshipped with purity, transcending all mundane aims, for it is the eternal refuge of the soul.

Question: But doesn’t chanting Hari-nāma cure epidemics and similar calamities?

Answer: If such a result occurs, it amounts to reducing Hari to a servant. This perspective exists and may persist in different states of expectation and perception. However, higher and superior truths can and should be heard. Truth does not depend on anyone’s approval; even if thousands are dissatisfied or enraged by its hearing, it remains unaffected.

In Vaikuṇṭha, a lion devouring a man is no misfortune. Yet, in the illusory world (māyika-jagat), such an event would be considered a great calamity. In Vaikuṇṭha, however, no such inconvenience arises. In this world, karmic fruits result in conflicting prayers—one individual’s plea might contradict another’s. But in the eternal realm (nitya-jagat), service alone is the eternal duty. Seeking immediate and tangible rewards reflects the desires of the fruitive workers (karma-vādīs), who measure actions by their material outcomes. Yet the truth of Vaikuṇṭha transcends such considerations. To dismiss the absolute narrative of Vaikuṇṭha based on material expectations is not a reasonable approach.

How long will this body last? One might think the body will bear fruit through its actions. However, such a belief stems from a lack of discernment or proper education. It must be understood that clinging to these notions prevents us from grasping the essence of those whose deficiencies have already been eradicated. Their words must be heard and pondered upon. What we consider “comfort” has no place in these higher truths.

Question: Why do thoughts of such deliberation arise?

Answer: They arise because we are filled with anartha (meaninglessness, impediments). None of this is Hari-nāma. These are all merely distractions meant to pass time. It is far better not to waste time on such futile endeavors.

The true essence of Hari-nāma lies beyond these superficial concerns. It calls for a genuine, selfless approach that transcends the temporary and aligns with eternal truth.

Question: Should all of this be abandoned?

Answer: I am not suggesting abandonment. When you understand for yourself, you will act accordingly. Until you develop a genuine taste for eternal truth through hearing, you must continue listening to these Vaikuṇṭha-oriented names. The knowledge you have received so far has not enabled true understanding. In a conditioned state of bondage (baddhāvasthā), comprehension remains elusive. Therefore, you must persist, though the “illness” may not yet be cured. Once these worldly concerns subside, even for a moment, you will begin to grasp their significance. Literature about Hari-nāma is continually being printed, new ideas are being articulated daily, as though to facilitate a fresh meeting with these eternal truths. But as long as you remain intoxicated by material distractions, you will find no relish for this process.

Question:Is it proper to renounce thought itself?

Answer: What kind of thought are you referring to? If it is the delusional thinking that arises from a state of anartha (misdirection and impediments), is such thought desirable? Reflect on how long such thoughts will last. What is their permanence? Setting those aside, consider how long you can sustain the other concerns you currently dwell upon. You will inevitably abandon them as well. Do not conflate transient activities with those that are unchanging and eternal. If you do, it will only indicate that you have not even glimpsed the essence of a single syllable of the Śrī Caitanya-caritāmṛta.

This language—the language of Hari-nāma and the eternal truths—is yet to be fully understood in this world. Its resonance transcends the transient thoughts and words we cling to. The invitation is not to abandon thought but to refine it, aligning it with the eternal and the unchanging.

Question: I do not understand, and therefore, I derive no benefit.

Answer: But this is the very truth. You will understand only when you realize—and that realization may come over the course of many lifetimes. The Lord does not intend to deprive you forever; that is not the case. This is not the fruit of a tree that one can simply pluck and take away. How can you truly hear when the countless impressions (saṁskāras) and entanglements of innumerable lifetimes are still clinging to you? Until they are cleared away, understanding will remain elusive.

Question: Śrīman Mahāprabhu gave it freely to anyone and everyone.

Answer: Śrīman Mahāprabhu indeed gave freely, but has anyone like me ever met Him? If not, then why do I remain here, grappling with these truths? If you think, “He gave it to anyone, and I am perhaps a little better than others,” then you will not receive it. Śrīman Mahāprabhu bestowed His mercy only after empowering the recipients with the capacity to receive it. If you acquire that capacity, you too shall receive it.

When Śrīman Mahāprabhu bestows grace upon someone, that grace brings with it the means to accept and utilize it. However, if your heart says, “I have no need for His mercy,” then even if mercy arrives, you will be unable to embrace it. A lesson intended for a Bachelor’s class can never be comprehended by a mere schoolboy.

This is the way of divine grace. One must first develop the strength and receptivity to bear its weight. Only then can true understanding dawn, and only then can the infinite mercy of the Lord flow unhindered into one’s life.

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Gauḍīya Goṣṭhipati Śrī Śrīla Bhakti Siddhānta Sarasvatī Gosvāmī Ṭhākura Prabhupāda Paramahaṃsa Jagat-Guru said that —

“The sole object of worship of the Gauḍīya Maṭha is “paraṁ vijayate śrī-kṛṣṇa-saṅkīrtanam”. One should understand that the utterance of Śrī Kṛṣṇa’s name is itself Bhakti. There is no alternative to Harināma. Those who do not chant a lakh of Holy Names daily – nothing offered by them is accepted by the Lord. Those who are fallen or degraded – being averse to the ekamātra bhajana (exclusive worship) i.e. the worship of the Holy Name – engage in substituting this by fabricating other forms of so-called bhajana. But through such imitation, no auspiciousness comes to them. By desiring to chant the Holy Name by giving up offenses, if one continually chants the Holy Name at all times, then the offenses will naturally be eliminated. There is no other remedy for our misfortune other than Śrī-Nāma-Bhajana.”

Question — How can we know that we are chanting the pure holy name (śuddha-nāma)?

— Śrīla Bhakti Siddhānta Sarasvatī Ṭhākura Prabhupāda Upadeśāmṛta

Answer—One who has even once uttered the pure holy name cannot have bad character. Such a person has no propensity to act as a spiritual master for control or worship (guru­giri). Moreover, he has no desire for wealth (kanaka), women (kāminī), or prestige (pratiṣṭhā). When one merely utters a semblance of the holy name (nāma­ ābhāsa), one’s sins (pāpa), one’s desire to sin (pāpa­ vāsanā), and one’s ignorance (avidyā) are destroyed. If any of these three remain in the heart, one should understand that the pure holy name has never been chanted.

Śrī­nāma is directly Bhagavān. Śrī­nāma is śabda­ brahma, transcendental sound vibration. I cannot regulate brahma­vastu śrī­nāma; Śrī­nāma can regulate me, show mercy to me, and deliver me. If we are fortunate to know by the mercy of saintly persons and a spiritual master that we are servants of the holy name, there will remain no desire for wealth, women, and prestige in our heart. Only those who have become free from the clutches of these desires can utter the pure holy name. Revelation of śuddha­nāma only takes place in pure existence (śuddha­ sattva, consciousness that is free from the effect of the illusory potency). The holy name of Lord Kṛṣṇa is directly Kāma­deva, the Original Transcendental Cupid. Kāma (worldly lust) and Kāma­deva cannot both be present together; they are incompatible. [Kāma (worldly lust) and Kāma­deva (Śrī Kṛṣṇa, the transcendental Cupid) cannot coexist, as they are inherently incompatible.]