Revelling in Krishna's Garden - Part II

Growing up, I was constantly surrounded by tales of Vrindavan. Every Balavihar class was filled with stories of Sri Krishna battling demons of every shape and size, and I always imagined visiting Vrindavan to witness the magic for myself. But I often wondered how the 21st-century Vrindavan could compare to the vibrant images in my mind— of what it must have been like during Sri Krishna's time.What did my Vrindavan look like? Well, when I closed my eyes, I saw Krishna dancing on the heads of the serpent Kaliya, his yellow attire and peacock feather shining against the dark waters of the Yamuna. I could almost hear the gopis calling out for his help, and there he was again, saving the day. I imagined the scene of little Krishna holding the massive Govardhan mountain on his pinky finger while the gopis sang his praises, their voices echoing through the air. And of course, I visualised his mother Yashoda, lamenting about the mischief of her naughty son, marveling at how life was both difficult and perfect after Krishna’s birth.This year, I packed my bags and traveled to Vrindavan, and while my imagined world and the real world collided in many ways, I couldn’t help but fall in love with the place. I fell in love with Krishna, with the stories of His life, and most importantly, with how deeply the people of Vrindavan regard Krishna, seeing Him not just as a deity, but as their own beloved son. Each village, each home, seemed to have its own unique story and special bond with Him.If you want to see love made visible, visit Vrindavan. I promise you, it is an experience beyond words, a journey into a world where devotion isn't just practiced; it's lived and breathed in every moment. Arriving in VrindavanVrindavan was unlike any place I’d ever been. The streets were teeming with life—men, women, and children from every walk of life, each person barefoot or on foot in deep devotion. As I arrived, the sound of temple bells mingled with the chants of Hare Krishna and Radhe Radhe, reverberated through narrow lanes. The air was thick with the fragrance of incense and the sweet smell of freshly made pedas.I had read and listened to countless stories about Vrindavan’s significance, but nothing could have prepared me for the overwhelming sense of devotion that enveloped me here. Everywhere I looked, I saw signs of absolute surrender and love for Krishna—from foreigners who looked more Indian than us, draped in malas, singing kirtans, and wearing saris, to children who greeted each other with Hare Krishna as their first words… And to farmers from distant villages walking barefoot just to catch a glimpse of their beloved Lord.Vrindavan is dotted with temples, each one holding its own story, each a pilgrimage in its own right. One of the temples I was most excited to visit was Banke Bihari Temple, and it didn’t disappoint..Story Behind Banke Bihari TempleThe name Banke Bihari comes from two words: Banke, meaning bent or crooked, and Bihari, meaning ‘the one who sustains the universe’. The story behind the deity of Banke Bihari is unique and fascinating.Legend says, the great devotee Swami Haridas, a renowned musician, was once invited by the Mughal emperor Akbar to perform in his court. Haridas, however, declined, saying his music was only for Sri Krishna. Enraged by this, Akbar sent his soldiers to capture Haridas while he was deep in prayer. As the soldiers entered, they were blinded by a brilliant light, which was believed to be the divine presence of Krishna and Radha.In his compassion, Swami Haridas prayed to Krishna to take a form that would be easier for people to see, and that’s when the famous idol of Banke Bihari appeared. The murti (idol) of Banke Bihari is depicted in a Tri-Bhanga posture—a posture where Krishna’s body is bent at the neck, waist, and knee, symbolising his playful and charming nature.The Worship at Banke Bihari TempleThe worship style at the Banke Bihari Temple is equally enchanting. I happened to visit two days before Holi. As we entered, we were caught in a whirlwind of colour. The priests joyously threw plates of colored powder on everyone, and sometimes garlands and sweets were showered upon devotees as well. Krishna is said to be in his most playful form at this temple, and the worship here reflects that. It’s a reminder that devotion is not just about rituals, but about an emotional connection with the divine—a connection that transcends time, space, and form.What struck me most was the simplicity of the devotion around me. There was no ego, no desire for worldly gain. Devotees were there simply to offer their love, to play with Krishna as they would with their child. Their calls for Krishna echoed through the temple—he was both their child and their savior, and this duality of their love was moving to witness..The Heart of VrindavanVrindavan taught me that true devotion is not about following rituals or religious practices alone. It’s about sincerity, simplicity, and an unwavering love for the divine. The people here live their faith with such purity that it becomes part of their very being. The devotion in Vrindavan doesn’t ask for anything in return—it simply exists to honour the deep bond between God and His devotees.As I left Vrindavan, I carried with me a new understanding of devotion—one that is not limited to temples or rituals but is found in the heart of every individual who surrenders in love to the divine. Vrindavan isn’t just a place; it’s an experience. One that continues to linger in your heart long after you’ve returned.

Revelling in Krishna's Garden - Part II

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