In dvaetádvaetaváda (dualistic non-dualism) first there is dvaeta and then there is advaeta. (The words are conjoined according to the principle of supsupeti samása in Sanskrit grammar.) That is, what was dualism in the initial stage is transformed into non-dualism at a later stage. This being so, I will discuss how Vraja Krśńas activities and behaviour are consistent with or different from dvaetádvaetaváda. Because in this regard, what He did in the practical field is far more significant than what He said.

According to dvaetádvaetaváda, in the initial stage jiivas are different from Parama Puruśa, thinking themselves to be separate entities (and in fact they are); but in the final stage, by virtue of sádhaná, the irresistible attraction of the Great, and the unconditional grace of Parama Puruśa, they come into close proximity with Parama Puruśa and become one with Him. In the beginning they were two, but in the end they become one. When sugar and sand are mixed together they still maintain their separate identities; they are said to be united but not unified. But when sugar and water are mixed together they become syrup, thus losing their separate identities. In this case they have not been united but unified: two entities have been fused into one. In dvaetádvaetaváda, the jiiva and Parama Puruśa become one after unification.

Some people may raise the question whether this unification is like that of sugar and sand or like that of sugar and water. It is a pertinent question, and although a complicated one philosophically, can be answered in a simple way. The original propounders of this doctrine did not advance any easy analogy like the one of sugar and water and sugar and sand. Had they done so it would have landed them in great difficulty.

There is a certain doctrine which contends that the merger of jiiva and Parama Puruśa is like a mixture of sugar and sand; for they become one but not exactly the same. This sort of philosophical doctrine is known as acintya bhedábhedaváda. According to its propounders, it is beyond human comprehension to know what sort of unification takes place. Other doctrines claim that the two become completely unified just like sugar and water. We can call these two analogies as sharkará-báluka [sugar and sand] and sharkará-jalam [sugar and water]. Sometimes very complex ideas can be easily understood with the help of simple analogies.

The concept of Vraja Krśńa involves the question of dualism in the beginning and non-dualism in the end. Is merger in Him like sugar and sand or like sugar and water? Actually, before asking this question a much more significant question should be asked: if jiivas are dualists in the beginning and non-dualists in the end, where did they originate from? Some people say that Parama Puruśa picked up a handful of dust and scattered it around, and thus the world was created. I am not at all persuaded by this simplistic metaphysical proposition. My question to them is: Where did Parama Puruśa acquire that handful of dust? In dvaetádvaetaváda the question of the jiivas’ origin remains unanswered. This is one of its basic flaws.

Násato vidyate bhávo nábhávo vidyate satah – “Something cannot come out of nothing. Again, something or other comes out of something: that is, something comes out of something and nothing comes out of nothing.” The jiiva is an entity and, as I have said earlier, an entity whose existence cannot be altogether denied. No matter how much we deny the existence of the world, we cannot make it non-existent. Jagadapi satyam ápekśikam – “The world is a relative truth,” and thus your physical body which exists in this relative world is also a relative truth. To exist in this relative world one requires food, clothing, shelter, education, medical treatment and other necessities of life. One cannot completely ignore these basic necessities. Ironically, those exponents of philosophy who have declared that this world is mere illusion or Máyá have constructed various temples and monasteries in different parts of India. If the world is nothing but Máyá then where is the necessity of all these temples and monasteries? There are clear contradictions between what such people preach and what they practise. Intelligent people, honest people, would never say anything self-contradictory. So the fundamental mistake of dvaetádvaetaváda is that it is mysteriously silent about the origin of the jiivas. Ramprasad, a famous mystic poet of Bengal, has given a beautiful answer to this question.

Prasád bale – yá chili bhái tái habi re nidenkále;
Yeman jaler vimba jalei uday, jal haye se misháy jale.

[Prasad says that you will be the same in the end as you were in the beginning. Just as a water bubble arises from water and the next moment dissolves back into the water, similarly the jiiva comes out of Parama Puruśa and ultimately returns to Parama Puruśa.]

This is a deep philosophical idea expressed in very simple and lucid language. It is interesting to note that although the propounders of dvaetádvaetaváda do not mention where the jiivas come from, they do inform us that they merge into Parama Puruśa. I cannot understand why they avoid the question of the origin of the jiivas. I am in favour of saying things in clear, concise and conclusive terms. Frankly speaking, I dislike this sort of hush-hush mentality. It implies that there are some defects somewhere.

One thing more has to be said in this regard. Although the jiivas are apparently small entities, they are part of the Infinite and as such have an element of infinity within. Their expressions and movements are not strictly limited to their physical existence. Regarding the divine nature of the jiivas, Rabindranath Tagore has said in one of his poems:

Ámi ye rúper padme karechi arúp madhu pán,
Duhkher vakśer májhe ánander peyechi sandhán.
Ananta maner váńii shunechi antare
Dekhechi jyotir path shúnyamay ándhaŕ prántare,
Nahi ámi vidhir brhat parihás
Asiim aeshvarya diye racita mahat sarvanásh.

[From the lotus of beauteous forms I have drunk the nectar of
the formless,
In the depths of misery I have discovered infinite bliss.
I have listened to the message of the infinite silence,
I have seen the path of effulgence in the dark endless void.
Although a mere microcosm I am not just a joke of Providence
Surrounded by limitless Macrocosmic wealth, yet ending in the
Great Annihilation.]

It is not proper to remain silent about the source of this endless microcosmic expression. Neither is it proper to remain ambiguous about the jiivas’ final destination. One cannot escape these realities by resorting to philosophical rigmarole. It would be a great blunder to underestimate the immense potential lying latent within the jiivas.

I have already said that to say that all jiivas have come out of nothing is incorrect, as something cannot come out of nothing, nor indeed can nothing come out of something. Something which exists will continue to exist, though undergoing metamorphosis. Similarly, that which does not really exist can never have an expression. All of you feel that you are carrying some life-force in you, the warmth of life. You feel that you have a mind, and so many feelings and sentiments, hopes and aspirations, pains and pleasures – so many susceptibilities and sensibilities. If someone denies this, will you accept it? Certainly not. These are not burdens, but the bliss of joyful living. You are voluntarily carrying these burdens because they give you joy. It is a major point and it is left unanswered in dvaetádvaetaváda. The value of humanity goes unrecognized in this philosophy.

Next comes the question of advaeta. Advaeta is the logical conclusion of dvaeta. The entity which has been flowing from the infinite void to the infinite void can never terminate in a state of crudity. It is bound to merge in Parama Puruśa, the embodiment of bliss – there can be no other imaginable destination. Thus the jiiva and Shiva cannot maintain their separate existences, as sugar and sand do, but will become unified like sugar and water. An ordinary jiiva can become extraordinary by virtue of sádhaná, karma [selfless action], intellect and benevolence. When such highly-evolved individuals merge with Parama Puruśa, they render the Macrocosmic existence even more meaningful and significant. A small drop of the essence of the screw-pine flower can add scent to a hundred drops of water. The absorption of these evolved jiivas into Parama Puruśa adds to the charm of Parama Puruśa. Thus the unification of the jiiva with Parama Puruśa is not like that of sugar and sand, but sugar and water.

Now, let us analyse the life and personality of Vraja Krśńa in His infancy. Vraja Krśńa was born in Kansa’s prison on a night shaken with heavy rains and fearsome thunderclaps, signifying the providential decree that the forces of wickedness represented by Kansa would be struck down. It was a part of the divine strategy to eliminate the tyrannical Kansa. How else could one account for the fact that one of Kansa’s intelligence agents opened the jail gates? And that the people of Gokula fell asleep, thus facilitating the safe escape of the baby Krśńa? At least some people should have remained awake – but in that case, the historic exchange of children would not have taken place.

These small incidents in the life of Vraja Krśńa are the precursors of a major event that was yet to come. Why did the child Krśńa kill Putana? She was a member of the intelligence department. Female employees of the intelligence branch were called viśa kanyá⁽¹⁾ because they were required to carry a ring containing a small amount of poison. If caught by the enemy, they were supposed to commit suicide, as there was a strong possibility that they might divulge many secrets under torture. Putana was one such female intelligence agent employed by Kansa, king of Mathura. Vakasura and Aghasura were both gahapuruśas, male agents. Krśńa had no intention to go to Vakasura and Aghasura and kill them; His humanitarian feelings forbade this.

Putana had only become Kansa’s intelligence agent as a means of livelihood. She certainly did not adopt this profession out of love for Kansa! Aghasura and Vakasura as well had only adopted this profession as a means of livelihood. Rulers change as do the allegiances of the intelligence people. People who had sung songs of praise for one king could be later found criticizing the same king and eulogizing the new one. Obviously they had no ideology of their own. Krśńa did not plan to go to them and kill them, but He was obliged to strike back in self-defense when they made an attempt on His life.

He could easily have killed Pútaná Rákśasii⁽²⁾ with his dagger or strangled her, but He did not. Putana attempted to suckle Krśńa after applying poison to her breast, but Krśńa bit her breast sharply, and the poison got into her bloodstream, and she died. Even while killing her, Krśńa showed great human consideration. Killing her was a last resort – had he sucked milk from her breast, He would have swallowed the poison, so He bit her instead in self-defense. Krśńa showed equal consideration before killing Vakasura and Aghasura. All these events in Krśńa’s life indicate that He was a great humanist. They also show that in the initial stage He recognized dvaetaváda to some extent.⁽³⁾

Jiivas emerge from Parama Puruśa, and eventually return to His supreme beatific stance. Putana, Vakasura and Aghasura also emerged from Parama Puruśa in the same way. They were also dvaeta jiivas [dualistic beings]. Had they [as dualistic beings] practised sádhaná, they would certainly have merged with Parama Puruśa, but instead they took a different path, the negative path – they wanted to destroy the very nucleus of the universe, Lord Krśńa, the greatest treasure of humanity. Vraja Krśńa had to kill them as a last resort. He did not kill them for the sake of killing, but to counteract their evil tendency to destroy human solidarity. He was a fiery personality of human civilization, of human society. If people move too close to a fire without wearing adequate protection, they burn to ashes. That was the fate of those three. Had He looked upon them as mere dualistic beings, from a dualistic perspective, then He would have kept them away, but that He did not do. He did not want to treat any human being as a mere dualist would have.

At a later stage of Vraja Krśńa’s life, we notice that His devotees were not well-versed in classical lore, did not have a deep knowledge of Sanskrit, and did not possess high academic qualifications. However, they had one rare quality – their dvaeta sattá [dualistic existence], the dualism that originates from Parama Puruśa. After coming in contact with Krśńa they started to move towards advaeta; they were moving towards oneness with Him. Let us see whether their merger with Him was like a mixture of sugar and sand or sugar and water.

What does practical experience suggest? Vraja Krśńa had identified Himself with them to such an extent that it was almost impossible to distinguish Him from them. Yet He was the nucleus, the central figure, the fiery personality, the kaosthubhamańi [the jewel of jewels], having its place of honour at the centre of the ornament. How does this spirit of dualism survive? It survives as long as there remains more than one mental object. If you take the entire universe as your object and not any finite mundane thing, you will become one with Parama Puruśa in that very instant. However, if you accept something small as your object, then individuality asserts itself and you feel that you are Tom, Dick or Harry. It is due to mental objects that bondage occurs in the human mind, and it these bondages which create the feeling of dualism and keep the individual separated from Parama Puruśa. Mental objects vary from person to person – one’s mental object may be very expansive, leading him or her towards Parama Puruśa; another’s may be very limiting, taking him or her away from Parama Puruśa. The person whose mental object is so vast that he or she says, “O Parama Puruśa, only You exist. You are my everything; I have nothing of my own,” attains oneness with Him.

Any object which creates bondage in the mind has its own particular colour. In those early days people used silver coins. While thinking of those silver coins, their minds would be coloured silver. Today, people’s minds are coloured by the thought of paper currency. When someone thinks of an iron safe, one’s mental object becomes the iron safe. When someone goes to the bank to deposit money, the bank’s signboard becomes his or her mental object. Suppose a person has a hundred thousand rupees of black money and thinks, “What shall I do with this black money? I know, I’ll bury it for some time and then invest it in a business.” All such things become a person’s mental objects, one by one. The mind always takes something as its object, each object having its specific colour. The significance of the Dol Liilá, the Spring Festival, is to surrender all one’s mental colour to Parama Puruśa, and thus free oneself from the bondage of colour.

Vraja Krśńa gave due recognition to this process, saying, “Give your mental colours to Me and become one with Me.” What does this mean? Does this merger resemble a mixture of sugar and sand or of sugar and water? Certainly, it was like a mixture of sugar and water. Vraja Krśńa demonstrated in His personal life that if one takes a dualistic attitude and enormously harms the collective interest, something has to be done to counteract it. Annihilation is not the goal here, but to extract the poison from the snake’s fangs. Moreover it is a fact that no matter how sinful or wicked one might be, if one surrenders one’s mental colour, be it black, yellow, red, etc., to Parama Puruśa by saying Tava dravyaḿ Govinda Tubhyameva samarpaye, Parama Puruśa immediately accepts the offering. At this point one becomes free from the bondage of colour and merges in one’s true self. This is the highest stage of advaeta.

People find it difficult to correlate the thoughts and actions of Vraja Krśńa with the dualistic portion of dvaetádvaetaváda. Jiivas have come out of the Supreme Cognitive Faculty. That Cognitive Faculty is none other than Parama Puruśa or Vraja Krśńa, for Vraja Krśńa is none other than Táraka Brahma Himself. He makes it abundantly clear that in the final stage of unification, existence becomes as sweet as sugar and water, not unpleasant or distasteful like a mixture of sugar and sand. Vraja Krśńa did not want to see an unhappy ending such as that. Thus in analysing Vraja Krśńa in the light of dvaetádvaetaváda philosophy, we can say that Vraja Krśńa did not want things to turn out like that.

Footnotes

(1) Viśa: “poison”. Kanyá: “girl”, “daughter”. –Eds.

(2) Putana was called Pútaná Rákśasii [rákśasii: a demoniacal woman] because she had a very bad nature, not because she was some kind of ogress with big hands, long teeth and fiery eyes, as conceived in mythology.

(3) As opposed to an ethereal Máyáváda point of view, for example. –Eds.