Religions of India in Practice

How can men and women get to heaven, given the demands of a body of flesh and blood? As sexual beings, how should we relate to those of the other gender? What does it mean to be a man? A woman? How was the universe created? Can we use our emotions to reach ultimate reality? Can we really become like the gods? Can mastery of the human body lead to cosmic consciousness and to freedom from the painful cycle of reincarnation? These and other questions were major concerns for an important medieval Hindu tantric movement called the Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyā tradition. The term “tantric” is explained elsewhere in this volume, but essentially refers to a range of Asian religious movements using different yogic techniques, emphasizing the correspondence between the human body and the universe, and using an equilibrium between male and female energies to reach ultimate reality or liberation. They also generally regard the world as “real,” in contrast to other Asian traditions that treat the world as basically “unreal” or “illusory.” The term Sahajiyā is derived from the Sanskrit and Bengali word sahaja, which means “together-born”; this refers to the belief that all differences and dualities are unified—“together-born”—in an elevated state of consciousness. Thus, Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyā means “those who seek the together-born state by following the god Viṣṇu.” Although called a Vaiṣṇava tradition (those who follow Viṣṇu, the “All-pervading” god), the Sahajiyās actually dealt more specifically with the playful and erotic god Kṛṣṇa (the “Dark Lord”). For the Sahajiyās, Kṛṣṇa functions on two levels: as the popular mythological god of Hinduism and as an abstract cosmic principle, with greater emphasis given to the abstract form. Although mainstream Hinduism regards Kṛṣṇa as an incarnation of Viṣṇu, the Sahajiyās reverse this and view Kṛṣṇa as the supreme power of the universe. Viṣṇu, when he does appear, generally functions as a less-powerful celestial being. However, since scholars have traditionally called them “Vaiṣṇava” Sahajiyās, we will use that term for reasons of consistency.

Found primarily in northeastern India during the sixteenth through nineteenth centuries, especially in greater Bengal (Bengal, Bihar, Orissa, Assam), their leaders blended together a curious range of beliefs and practices from several Hindu, Buddhist, and possibly even Islamic sources. Because some of their most important religious practices required having ritual sexual intercourse, they were regarded as rather scandalous and controversial by many people in the community. This unsavory reputation was magnified during the British period, and continues to this day. As a result, the Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyās tried to keep their practices hidden from the larger community, imposing a veil of secrecy upon both teachers and disciples. However, the Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyās, like other tantric groups, had definite religious reasons and explanations for their practices.

Followers of Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyā traditions consisted of both men and women; in contrast to most other South Asian religious traditions, women often served as masters (guru). Furthermore, it was believed that a man could not realize ultimate reality without the cooperation of a woman, and likewise a woman’s realization depended upon the companionship of a man. The reasons for this cooperative nature of Sahajiyā belief and practice comes from their blending of earlier tantric traditions with contemporary devotional practices directed to the god Kṛṣṇa and his consort Rādhā (“Prosperity”). These influences will be explained shortly.

There were many reasons for the Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyās to keep their practices hidden from the community at large. Most of the people in Bengali Hindu society were fairly conservative when it came to issues of sexuality, and the Sahajiyā practices frequently involved violations of caste, as well. As with many other tantric traditions, the Sahajiyās disregarded the prevailing norms and attitudes, but since their members may have held responsible positions in society, they typically preferred to keep their status as Sahajiyās a secret. They lived in constant danger of social condemnation by the Hindus and harassment by the Muslim authorities who controlled much of medieval Bengal. They also wanted to keep the true meanings of their teachings within a closed circle of masters and disciples, and so virtually all Sahajiyā texts were composed in Bengali and Sanskrit using a special esoteric (hidden) code language called “intentional language” (sandhyābhāṣā). Since they felt that their practices conferred the power to shape reality and travel to inner heavens, they did not want the teachings falling into the hands of the uninitiated. They warned that unprepared people would suffer the pains of hell if they tried to use Sahajiyā techniques without being properly initiated by a qualified master. Those attracted simply to the sexuality and sensuality of Sahajivā practices would instead be eternally tormented, never reaching the blissful heavens beyond this material world.

Unfortunately for modern scholars, this evasiveness has made the study of the Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyās difficult at best. Exactly when and where they originated is unknown. Many scholars believe that they appeared in Bengal soon after the time of the great Vaiṣṇava religious leader Kṛṣṇa-Caitanya (“He Who Makes the World Conscious of the Dark Lord”; 1486-1533), who popularized the worship of the god Kṛṣṇa and his divine consort Rādhā. But others argue that the Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyās are direct descendants of an earlier (eighth to thirteenth century) form of tantric Buddhism that made use of the concept of sahaja. Another problem involves the authorship of the songs and texts that have come down to us. Far too many have the signature line (bhaṇitā) of a famous person of the past, like Caṇḍīdāsa (“Servant of the Furious Goddess”) or Kṛṣṇadāsa (“Servant of the Dark Lord”). Why? Because the authors felt that more people would respect their composition if it was thought to be by a legitimate authority from the past. Some medieval teachers, as noted below, did give their own names, but typically their disciples went back to using fictive names. They were concerned not about claiming personal pride of authorship, but rather with conveying powerful liberating knowledge. The overall message, not the individual messenger, was what mattered most. So we know very little about the people themselves apart from what we can infer from the texts.

Another major problem in understanding the Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyās is the esoteric code language they use. Since they are dealing with controversial issues like sexuality, including the use in religious rituals of penises, vaginas, semen, and uterine blood, they generally use other words to indicate these concepts. Semen, for example, can be indicated by using the word rasa, which basically means “juice” from a sugarcane, or some sweet fluid. However, in other places in Sahajiyā compositions rasa can mean an elevated mystical experience according to the Caitanyaite tradition. So the word rasa in the text might mean semen or it might mean the mystical state—or both. A variety of metaphors are also used to refer to the sexual process and to genitalia; for example, the woman’s pubic hair might be referred to as a garden with rows of vines, the vagina is a whirlpool, and the action of coitus is called “churning.” In the translations that follow, I have tried to use the context to determine which meanings are implied. This uncertainty about the secret code in other tantric traditions is usually clarified by later commentators, who laboriously comment on important words, phrases, and images and explain what they “really” represent. Unfortunately, the Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyā tradition is the only major tantric movement for which we lack such later commentaries. It seems that the gurus themselves provided a living commentary, transmitted orally from master to student, thus maintaining the veil of secrecy concerning Sahajiyā traditions and practices. Faced with these difficulties, I have tried to break the code using information from context, other parts of the text, other texts, and interviews with modern tantrics who follow similar beliefs and practices.

It is likely that we will never fully understand the Sahajiyā code, since most research and fieldwork suggests that the traditional teaching lineages disappeared during the late nineteenth century. One Bengali scholar with extensive contacts in the villages and among many religious communities has never been able to locate a genuine Sahajiyā whose master continues the old lines of instruction. Some modern tantrics claim to be Sahajiyās, but they have not demonstrated proof of an unbroken connection to the medieval schools; in fact, these modern Sahajiyās may have been inspired by the publication of some Bengali Sahajiyā texts by Indian scholars in the 1930s and more recently by some popular presses in Calcutta. Certainly, groups like the Bāuls (“divinely mad ones”; see Chapter 9 above) help shed light on some of the Sahajiyā beliefs and practices, but only to a degree.

Given their obscure origins and development, it is also difficult to trace the influences on the Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyās beyond certain general trends. First, they were influenced by earlier schools of tantra and yoga, which emphasized the need to use a variety of psychological, physical, and sexual techniques in order to realize the highest states of consciousness and ultimate reality. From these traditions came ideas about the correspondence between the human body as a microcosm (miniature universe) and the universe as a macrocosm (large universe). This is based on their belief that the human body is mysteriously connected to the larger universe outside of the body and vice versa. The body is also connected to a hidden inner universe. Like a vast mystical network, all of the bodily parts and processes are linked to cosmic forces and substances. By manipulating that part of the network which one should be able to control (the body), one may then be able to interact with the overall network that one needs to control (the universe). An uncontrolled universe leads to suffering, confusion, death, and endless rebirths according to the laws of karma. By mastering the body—especially the breath, the mind, and the sexual energies—one could control the entire universe and be liberated from subsequent rebirths and deaths. For tantrics, the human body is a vital means for attaining the highest levels of reality.

A critical concept from tantric yoga involved sexuality and gender: since the created universe emerges from the interaction between cosmic male and female principles, the way to return to cosmic unity is to stimulate those principles using special rituals and statements. Although nontantric yoga traditions viewed this as the interaction between the male consciousness of the cosmic man (puruṣa) and the female matter (prakṛti), tantrics grounded this interaction in the bodies and sexuality of ordinary men and women. The problem, from the tantric point of view, is that we are separated from a state of divine cosmic bliss and unity due to the process of creation and existence as men and women. The solution, therefore, is to perform the practice of reversal (ulṭā sādhanā), in which the man identifies himself with a divine masculine being like Śiva (the “Auspicious One”) or Kṛṣṇa, and the woman with their respective female consorts Śakti (“Power”) or Rādhā. In the case of the Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyās, the man regards himself as Kṛṣṇa and the woman as Rādhā. Although in physical form (rūpa) they may seem like an ordinary man and woman, their essential form (svarūpa) is that of powerful cosmic principles—the very principles that create the universe. The overall process is difficult and usually requires years of preliminary practices, beginning with basic meditations, breathing exercises, and chanting, and culminating in the advanced stages of ritual sexual intercourse and powerful visions. By engaging in ritual coitus (sambhoga), the couple seeks to return to the unity of the together-born state of sahaja—the absolute state prior to and beyond creation. Most importantly, the man is not supposed to ejaculate during this ritual; in fact he is to use his control over his physical body to draw into his own body the fluids from the woman. As impossible as this may seem, the goal is to direct the mixed sexual fluids inside the man’s body along a mystical channel (nāḍī) or river (nadī) into an interior universe—complete with ponds, villages, gardens, and various beings. Of note is the fact that the essence of the woman is brought into the man’s body—certainly a clear reversal of the ordinary sexual process. Both the woman and the man are believed to attain the mystical state of sahaja; although the divine body seems to be located within the man’s body, the “together-born inner person” (sahaja mānuṣa) consists of both the male and the female principles in a perfect state of equilibrium. Thus, the final goal is experienced only when the couple share their bodies, minds, and emotions in the state of divine love (prema). It is worth noting that this hydraulic or liquid system contrasts with that of other tantric traditions, which conceive of a powerful type of fiery cosmic energy, the serpent power (kuṇḍalinī śakti) that moves upward along a mystical yogic artery (suṣumnā) through several circles (cakra) that make up the inner body.

This concern with the transformation of physical bodies into internal spiritual bodies is termed “the principles of the body” (deha-tattva), and is a vital component of all Sahajiyā belief and practice. As with nontantric yoga, Sahajiyās believe that somewhere within, distinguishable from the body of flesh, blood, bones, and nerves is another body, a divine body (deva deha) which must be ritually constructed and used to reach the highest heavens. As tantrics, however, they use potent ritual techniques that involve sexuality to reach their goal. Another esoteric dimension that they have taken from earlier schools is that of alchemy (rasāyana), which, on the surface seems to involve the transformation of base metals like iron and lead into gold. Behind this process, however, is a spiritual process: that of transforming the physical body (likened to base metal) into the divine body (likened to gold). To this end they prepared ritual substances for consumption, the ingredients for which may have included camphor, mercury, and even sexual fluids. Through the use of ritual intercourse, ingestion of the alchemical preparations, and the utterance of powerful words and phrases (mantra), the Sahajiyā couple hoped to experience the together-born state, realizing their true inner nature as the inner person (mānuṣa). Several of the following translations deal with this type of sexual alchemy.

The other broad area of influence, apart from that of tantric yoga and alchemy, is that of the devotional system of Bengali Vaiṣṇavism popularized by Caitanya. The key elements taken from this dynamic tradition are that of divine love (prema), devotion (bhakti), and the state of pure appreciation (rasa). Regarding Kṛṣṇa as the supreme manifestation of the sacred, Bengali Vaiṣṇavas sought to identify themselves with one of the numerous characters in the mythic drama concerning the cowherd Kṛṣṇa and his adventures in pastoral locales as described in the classic Hindu devotional text, the Bhāgavata Purāṇa (“Ancient Tales of God”). The favorite role for both male and female devotees was that of one of the comely cowherd girls (gopīs), the most beautiful and pure of whom was Rādhā. Based partly upon earlier concepts of Sanskrit drama and aesthetics, these Vaiṣṇavas held that Kṛṣṇa represented the divine and the cowherd girls the human soul. Thus, in the longing of the cowherd girls for Kṛṣṇa, we have a representation of the human search for the sacred. Of critical importance is the role of emotions and eroticism to stimulate this passionate love for god. Using techniques such as chanting the names of Kṛṣṇa and singing his songs (nāma-saṃkīrtana), the Bengali Vaiṣṇavas tried to intensify their love and devotion in order to experience the reified essence of love, its rasa, in which one is completely absorbed in the love of Kṛṣṇa—as he in turn showers divine love on the devotee.

The Sahajiyās made some radical changes in the system popularized by Caitanya and his followers. The Caitanya movement is first of all theistic, as its members believe in Kṛṣṇa as a supreme divinity. They are also basically dualistic: humans are of an order of existence different from the divine and can never become fully divine, nor could the cowherd girls (the human soul) ever merge with Kṛṣṇa as one entity. In terms of ritual activity, Caitanyaites engage only in the symbolic lovemaking between Kṛṣṇa and the cowherd girls. Only Lord Kṛṣṇa could dare to make love to the wife of another man, as only the gopīs would dare to leave their husbands for another man. Much to the chagrin and outrage of orthodox Vaiṣṇavas, the medieval Sahajiyās transformed all of this into a basically humanistic system, in which Kṛṣṇa was simply the masculine “true form” (svarūpd) latent in all ordinary men, and Rādhā the corresponding feminine “true form” in all women. For most Sahajiyās, the two figures metaphorically embody the abstract cosmic principles of the masculine and the feminine, not the mythological characters of orthodox Vaiṣṇavism. They represent cosmic forces rather than the supreme God and his favorite devotee. In contrast to the orthodox dualists, the Sahajiyās were monistic; that is, they believed that humans are divine—that they are in essence divine being itself. This monism also includes the belief that the male and female powers would ultimately unify in the together-born state. The Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyās thus blended the mechanics of tantric yoga (including alchemy) with the emotional devotionalism of Bengali Vaiṣṇavism. This makes it a truly fascinating subject to study, but raises many challenges for the scholar and student. At the very least, the Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyās illustrate distinctive perspectives on human nature and reality, some of which are conveyed in the following translations.

During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the Sahajiyās composed extremely esoteric works consisting of several hundred to a few thousand couplets, yet the most numerous type of composition is the pada, a short lyrical Bengali poem of usually four to eight couplets in length. Most of these poems deal with subjects like ritual practices, meditation, sacred love, devotion to the guru, and the need to realize the “inner body” of advanced yogic practice. The selections chosen for translation here consist of four short poems, one excerpt from a longer allegorical text, and two excerpts from a lengthy Sahajiyā “response” to a famous Bengali Vaiṣṇava biography of the religious leader Kṛṣṇa-Caitanya. The four poems are but a few of the hundreds that have come down to us. It is extremely difficult to date them precisely; although the manuscripts generally come from the nineteenth century, the language suggests earlier composition, probably from as early as the sixteenth century. Indeed, some of the themes and concepts clearly derive from much older tantric traditions. Most have been circulated due to their popularity and ability to convey the depth of the Sahajiyā mystical experience. These poems would often be sung to a musical rhythm which unfortunately is not indicated on the manuscript versions that have survived. Additionally, they are composed using several different poetic meters and rhyming patterns. In the day-to-day life of a Sahajiyā student, such short poems perhaps played a greater role than longer works of several hundred couplets, complementing the frequent guidance of the master. Since none of the poems have definite titles, I have used the first line or a phrase therein as the title. Introducing each selection are some brief comments intended to clarify the main points of interest in the composition.

For additional information on the Vạiṣṇava Sahajiyās, the following works may be consulted. For a detailed analysis of the beliefs, practices, and history of the medieval tradition, see Glen A. Hayes, Shapes for the Soul: Cosmic Bodies and Transformation in Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyā Tantric Tradition, SUNY Series in Tantric Studies, edited by Paul Muller-Ortega (Albany: State University of New York Press, forthcoming). This includes the complete Bengali text and English translation of an important medieval treatise on the divine body and the sexual alchemy. The relationship between the Sahajiyās and the Bengali Vaiṣṇava tradition is treated in Edward C. Dimock, Jr., The Place of the Hidden Moon: Erotic Mysticism in the Vaiṣṇava-Sahajiyā Cult of Bengal (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1966; Phoenix Books, 1989). Earlier useful works now available in reprinted editions are: Manindra Mohan Bose, The Post-Caitanya Sahajiā Cult of Bengal (reprint, Delhi: Gian Publishing House, 1986) and Shashibhusan Dasgupta, Obscure Religious Cults (reprint of third edition, Calcutta: Firma KLM, 1976). Bose tends to focus on the Sahajiyā connections to Bengal Vaiṣṇavism, whereas Dasgupta deals more with the earlier tantric influences and other contemporary tantric traditions.

This first poem deals with the nature of the “inner person” (mānuṣa) with which the Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyās seek to identify. Reminiscent of classical Upaniṣadic concepts of the “cosmic man” (puruṣa), the mānuṣa is a mysterious being, paradoxically close-yet-distant to the physical world, and beyond all things. Among Sahajiyās, this “inner person” is also identified with Kṛṣṇa, reinforcing their belief in a form of ultimate humanism: the fully realized human being possesses divine qualities and powers, and knowledge can lead to this divine fullness of human existence. Those who realize this inner being will have disposed of their earthly connections, gained the liberation of ultimate reality, and will have essentially “died” to the ordinary world. This is called being “dead-while-alive” (jiyante mara), a concept found in other yogic traditions.

Although the author gives the name Caṇḍīdāsa, a title used by at least one famous earlier poet, this is clearly a pen name taken to lend legitimacy to the composition. This poem is written using the tripadī (three-footed) meter, in which each half of the couplet consists of three sections. This poem and the next three are translated from Maṇīndramohan Basu, ed., Sahajiyā sāhitya (Calcutta: University of Calcutta, 1932). The poem numbers appear in parentheses.

Mānuṣa mānuṣa sabāi balaye (21)

Everyone is talking about the inner person (mānuṣa), the inner person;

But what kind of being is the inner person?

The inner person is a jewel. The inner person is life itself.

The inner person is the treasure of the vital breaths (prāṇa).

All the world’s people are deluded by errors and confusion.

They do not understand the true inner meaning (marma) of life.

The divine love (prema) of the inner person does not usually appear in the earthly realm,

but only through the inner person can people experience divine love.

Those people who experience the inner person are the inner person,

because the inner person recognizes the inner person.

These people and the inner person seem to exist separately,

yet it is the inner person who realizes the inner person.

Those who experience the inner person are dead-yet-alive (jīyante marā).

They have become the very essence of that inner person.

Initial experiences of the inner person are signs of great good fortune.

The inner person is on the far shores of experience.

Chanting the name of the inner person leads to a separate mystical place.

Distinct from this world, it has its own customs.

Caṇḍīdāsa says: Everything about it is distinct.

Who can fathom its customs?

Even beyond its role as the inner being, the inner person is also said to be a type of androgyne, together-born (sahaja) as a result of uniting the male and female powers through the use of the secret sexual rituals. During these rituals the uncontrolled lusts are transformed into a state of being called rāga, “controlled passion.” The result is not a fetus but rather a special kind of consciousness and inner being. From the point of view of the ordinary world, therefore, the inner person cannot exist; upon leaving this world in order to reach the inner person, the Sahajiyā couple realizes that the ordinary world is just a lower level of reality. As in the previous poem, the next one describes the state in which one has seemingly “died” to the ordinary world and has, by dwelling in the inner universe, established relationships with “the dead.” This transformation leads to a secondary birth, into a divine body born of the state of controlled passion and substances produced during the rituals. Once this divine body is obtained, the physical body is regarded as a mere shell, effectively cast away.

This poem is composed in the basic couplet style, and is signed by “Caṇḍīdāsa.”

Sahaja mānuṣa kothāo nāi (23)

The together-born inner person (sahaja mānuṣa) is nowhere,

but if you search you will find it nearby.

It is not born from the womb,

but gains its birth through controlled passion (rāga).

Such birth through controlled passion is most extraordinary;

through the pursuit of such controlled passion, all is made firm.

Establishing a relationship with the dead,

one then maintains that relationship with the dead.

Dwelling forever among the dead,

one’s hope is to transform the physical body.

If this physical body is lifted away,

then one has truly been touched by divine love (prema).

The great people say: “Dwelling in the nectar of immortality,

let my mind enter and remain in the together-born state.”

Caṇḍīdāsa says: This is profoundly esoteric.

The mystic understands, the ignorant do not.

The concept of rasa, which has been translated as “divine juice,” is complicated and important to the Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyās. On the one hand, the influence from the Bengali Vaiṣṇava tradition gives it one level of meaning as an elevated state of religious rapture in which the practitioner identifies with one of the characters in the mythical adventures of Kṛṣṇa. However, the tantric influence gives it the additional, and more fundamental, meaning of sexual fluid—especially, but not always, male semen. The goal of the sexual ritual is to reverse the sexual fluids during intercourse and elevate them to a mystical place somewhere within the man’s body. This reservoir, within the physical body, is regarded as a part of the divine body. It is compared to an ocean of the elixir of immortality (amṛta or amiyā, the poetic form). The three streams of juice refer to the male, female, and mingled streams of fluid. Once the “divine juice” (understood as both substance and state of consciousness) has been brought into the divine body, the realization of the inner person can take place. The imagery of the ocean of nectar, churned by the gods in a contest with the demons, is an important part of classical Hindu mythology. In a typically oblique Sahajiyā adaptation of this metaphor, the poem refers to the “churning” that takes place in the vagina during intercourse and mentions the preferred partner for the ritual, literally a woman “belonging to another” (parakīyā). Following the adventures of Kṛṣṇa, the Sahajiyās literally sought to practice a form of sacred illicit sex, feeling that the risk and danger only heightened the state of passionate rapture. This practice probably led to their marginal position in Bengali Hindu society and to their apparent demise.

Like the first poem, this is signed by “Caṇḍīdāsa” and is composed in “triple-footed” meter.

Rasera sāyare rasika janamila (31)

The mystic was born in the sea of divine juice (rasa).

To whom will I speak about that divine juice?

By whom and where was it cultivated? Who tasted it?

Who is able to speak about it?

The essence of the nectar of immortality (amiyā) is named “divine juice.”

The divine juice flows in three streams.

The experience of divine juice is eternally renewed.

Who has the power to understand this?

The treasure trove of nectar is churned without stopping.

Divine juice is produced by that churning.

That woman who is called “faithful to her husband” (pativratā) is devoted to the nectar.

Through the motions of her husband, divine juice is made.

The sweetness of divine juice overwhelms everything.

Who has the power to understand this?

This divine juice is very rare, the most extraordinary thing of all.

Within it is the inner person (mānuṣa) who controls reality.

Caṇḍīdāsa says: Most difficult to obtain

indeed is the divine juice of the inner person.

In mere conversation about it, suffering and fear are destroyed.

Among everything, it is the juiciest of all.

The divine body that the Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyās seek is said to be made out of the substances of the physical body (semen and uterine blood). When transformed through their “reversal” in ritual and through the state of selfless divine love (prema), they become very different substances. This is what their alchemy consists of: changing the base substances of the body into the golden radiance of the divine form. Through the power of the ritual, the sexual fluids are changed into a “cosmic substance” (vastu) which is then used to create and build the parts of the divine body (the rivers, ponds, flowers, and villages). Although other tantric traditions envision the divine body as made out of different cosmic energies, the Sahajiyās prefer the more substantive and hydraulic approach. The divine body is thus made out of the yogically reversed and alchemically transformed sexual substances that are prevented from flowing outward into the world to create an ordinary body. This is somewhat reminiscent of the image of the inner man (homunculus) of Western alchemical traditions.

This next poem is written using the basic couplet meter, and is signed with the name of another famous early poet, Kṛṣṇadāsa.

Vastutattva jāne yei pāya vastudhana (59)

One who understands the principles of cosmic substance (vastu) will receive the treasure of that cosmic substance.

Without the cosmic substance, you’ll never reach the Dark Lord in his pastoral heaven.

No one understands that the principles of the cosmic substance are found within the divine juice (rasa).

Without the divine juice, there can be no cosmic substance in the three regions of the universe.

Within the glowing divine juice, there is a singular cosmic substance.

If you do not experience that cosmic substance, you will never reach the Dark Lord.

The delectable experience of the erotic state is the embodiment of divine juice.

While in that erotic state, the Dark Lord has command of that cosmic substance.

Extract of extracts, the cosmic substance is profoundly esoteric.

Only the foremost of practitioners is able to taste that cosmic substance.

That person who is the guru can taste that cosmic substance.

There is nothing to talk about—nothing to say.

When Caitanya came, he made the devoted followers eat that cosmic substance.

Through the grace of Caitanya, the devotees tasted it.

Kṛṣṇadāsa says: Listen, my fellow practitioners!

Worship the together-born inner person (sahaja mānuṣa), for it is the refuge of the highest devotees.

In addition to the numerous short poems produced over the centuries by the Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyās, certain influential gurus and their students produced longer works focusing on ritual practices and meditations. As with the poems, they are composed in a special esoteric code language intended to conceal the details from the uninitiated. The best known of these manuals were produced by the medieval guru Siddha Mukundadeva (“The Perfected Divine One Who Gives Liberation”) and the various teaching lineages begun by his students. Mukunda lived approximately 1600-1650 C.E. and seems to have been responsible for synthesizing many of the diverse concepts and practices that are found in the manuals: Bengali Vaiṣṇava religious devotionalism and aesthetics, Hindu tantrism, alchemy, and classical yoga cosmology and symbolism. His major work was called “The Collection of Liberating Statements of Mukunda” (Mukunda-muktāvalī), which consisted of six related works composed in Sanskrit. The Bengali translations were probably prepared by his disciples during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. The Bengali translation of one of these works, “The Collection of Immortal Divine Juice” (Amṛtarasāvalī, 1650 C.E.), has been attributed to either Mukundadāsa or to Mathurādāsa (“Servant of the Pilgrimage Place of Kṛṣṇa”), although the specific manuscript used for this printed version does not provide a name.

This excerpt discusses the inner yogic body and how it is created during ritual sexual intercourse. This mystical cosmography of ponds and flowers is made through experiencing the divine juice (rasa)—here both an elevated religio-aesthetic state and the human sexual fluids—which must be directed along the yogic channel or “river” (nadī) that runs from the penis upward into the yogic body. The text warns of those unprepared and impure people who, like thieves, would try to enter the yogic body to improperly experience the rasa. The leader is Everyman, and his nine fellow thieves represent the several organs of perception and activity known to classical yoga tradition. The distance of “eight measures” traversed by the river refers to the eight constituents of the body, such as bone, ligament, sweat, semen, blood, and so forth. Their five weapons stand for the five cosmic elements: earth, air, water, fire, and space. Of interest are the references to the three colors of the river water (red, white, and mixed: representing uterine blood, semen, and the mingled fluids, respectively), to the cosmic mountain Sumeru, and to the potent alchemical substances (dravya) to be extracted from the whirlpool running down the body into the river. Reflecting the daily scenes of the riverine life of deltaic Bengal, passage along the mystical river is likened to the movement of merchant vessels, whose lights represent the yogic vision of the practitioner as the inner vision unfolds. This excerpt clearly illustrates the Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyā tendency to employ allegory and natural symbolism to convey the dynamics of the divine yogic body. It is written using both the basic and “triple-footed” couplet meters. The Bengali text is found in Basu, Sahajiyā sāhitya, pp. 163-66.

Selection from Amṛtarasāvalī of Siddha Mukundadeva

There is a lotus pond (sarovara) within the inner world,

and in this pond the lotus flowers grow.

The divine juice (rasa) of the flowers fills the lotus pond

and flows outward in two streams.

That person who is able to prevent ignorance and confusion

is the grandchild of the inner person.

He drinks just a little of that divine juice, letting the rest flow on,

as the mythical swan extracts only the milk from the mixture of water and milk.

In all humility I ask you once again

to understand that there is an inner world.

All of the deities themselves hope to experience

those flowers, the divine juice, and that lotus pond.

The mystical lotus flowers grow only in that lotus pond.

All of the deities enjoy the divine juice of those flowers.

Around the lotus pond are posted five guardians.

“Carefully guard this place where the juices are united (yoga)!”

Saving this to the guardians, the gods returned to their abode.

As they were leaving, they reminded the guardians to be watchful.

Now, it happened that there was a thief who wanted to steal the divine juice, and his name was Everyman (sabā).

He was the leader of nine other thieves.

Terrifying indeed was the sight of their five hand-weapons.

These thieves usually roamed around the city doing nasty things.

One day the gang set out to steal the divine juice.

They crept along the riverbank, within sight of the river (nadī).

[The narrator interjects:]

Once again I humbly ask you to pay attention.

Eight measures (krośa) away from the river is a special place.

In that place there is a lotus pond.

A blue-colored flower blooms upon its waters.

From that flower the divine juice flows a distance of eight measures.

Emerging from the pond, the divine juice mixes with the waters of the river.

In that place which I call “Eye of the Great Lord” (maheśa locana) there is a corner, and in that corner is a garden.

That garden has been beautifully constructed

With so many of the finest trees and so many plants and creeping vines,

in delicate lines like rows of ants.

The river surges through the garden, as so much water flows and flows—

but water that I cannot write about.

That water which flows in the cool season is white in color,

while the water of the hot season is colored red.

During the rainy season the water is colored much like ordinary water.

In these three colors it flows during the twelve months.

Above the river there is an encircling mountain.

In front of the mountain there is a whirlpool.

Within this whirlpool are substances (dravya) of tremendous value.

By diving into the whirlpool, one will certainly obtain such substances.

In this river there is no sand—everywhere there is mud.

But along the two banks the sand is piled up like mountains.

How many hundreds of merchant vessels have plied those waters?

The river is illuminated by the equipment aboard the vessels.

What kind of landings (ghāṭa) are along the river and how does one dock there?

Looking in all directions, one is dazzled by all the sights.

How many hundreds of noble women have bathed in its waters?

At the touch of the river, their beautiful forms (rūpa) flourish.

It is most difficult to explain the characteristics of these beautiful forms.

Great effort is required in making such beauty permanent (sthāyī).

Approximately two or three generations after Siddha Mukundadeva composed his works, some of his followers issued texts arguing that the most famous personalities of Bengali Vaiṣṇavism had in fact secretly been Sahajiyās—that is, practiced the secret sexual rituals. Their argument was simple: due to public pressure, these early Vaiṣṇava notables had to make themselves seem to be only symbolically involved in the erotic devotions of Kṛṣṇa and the cowherd girls in Vṛndāvana—so the Sahajiyās claimed, much to the outrage of orthodox Vaiṣṇavas. The major text making these controversial claims is “The Erotic Sport of Transformation” (Vivarta-vilāsa) by Ākiñcanadāsa (“Servant of the Lowly Ones”), dating from around 1700 C.E. In this very extensive treatise of several thousand couplets, the author uses numerous quotations from a famous sixteenth-century hagiography of the religious leader Kṛṣṇa-Caitanya, “The Immortal Acts of Caitanya” (Caitanya-caritāmṛta) to show how Caitanya and most of his important followers—including the author of the hagiography, Kṛṣṇadāsa Kavirāja (“King of the Poets, Who Serves the Dark Lord,” although kavirāja also means “physician”)—were actually Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyās.

The first excerpt presented here comments on the necessity for the assistance of experienced Sahajiyās in the preparation of the “alchemical candy” (bhiyāna) that is made from the sexual fluids during ritual love making, and uses one quote from “The Immortal Acts of Caitanya” to argue that these powerful yogic substances are the final products of a series of processes that refine worldly things into divine experiences. It is probable that an actual mixture was made out of the sexual substances and other additives such as camphor and mercury in order to make the alchemical pill used to create the divine body. The details are unclear—probably for reasons of secrecy. This passage is composed in the basic couplet meter.

I have used the seventh printed edition of the Vivarta-vilāsa, edited by Kṛṣṇa Bhaṭṭācārya (Calcutta: Tārācāṅd Dāsa and Sons, n.d.). The first excerpt comes from pp. 92-93. All quotations from the Caitanya-caritāṃita refer to the edition edited by Rādhāgovinda Nāth, Śrīśrícaitanyacaritāmṛta, 6 vols. (Calcutta: Sādhanā Prakāśanī, B.S. 1392/C.E. 1986).

The Erotic Sport of Transformation

Without the help of experienced devotees, devotion to the divine juice (rasa)

cannot be understood.

The alchemical candy (bhiyāna) is ritually prepared using the instrument of divine love.

The alchemical candy was made by seizing the divine juice,

and blending into that precious treasure the female and the male principles.

As many sugar-drops and candy pieces that can be made from the juice of the sugarcane,

in direct proportion, that much cosmic substance (vastu) and power (śakti)

are to be gained in the great mystical condition (mahābhāva).

In The Immortal Acts of Caitanya (2.23.23) it is said:

From the sugarcane plant come seeds, stalks, juice, and molasses, but they share the same basic essence.

Sugar candy is really just the finest white sugar mixed with spices.

Just as these products introduced into the sugarcane gradually increase the flavor,

so do controlled passion and divine love incrementally increase religious experience.

The juice and cosmic substance are always present in a special place.

If they remain, what happens? You must understand all of this.

Take the juice in that place and mix spices with it.

You must fashion the confection by transforming that juice.

The second excerpt begins with an unattributed poem concerning the use of alchemy in transforming the human body. Just as the proverbial alchemist used the magical touchstone to turn iron into gold, the Sahajiyā uses the sexual substances collected in ritual to transform the physical body into a divine or spiritual body. Throughout India one finds notions of the conservation of semen by the male; in some versions it is kept in a reservoir within the body—likened to a pitcher or, more elegantly, to a lotus pond (sarovara). Much attention is directed, as a result, to the sexual ritual, sexual fluids, and sexual organs. With the Sahajiyās, however, both the female and male contributions are valued. Of interest is the distinctive correspondence between the different aspects of the secret initiation and the act of coitus. The praises to Kṛṣṇa and the seed-syllable (bīja) are identified with the female and male fluids, respectively, while the tongue of the master and the initiate’s ear are likened to the penis and the vagina. While the physical form of such intercourse leads to the birth of the body of flesh and blood, the Sahajiyā initiation leads to the birth of the divine body. Attainment of this divine body means that the couple has realized the all-powerful inner person (mānuṣa), who is at the heart of reality.

This selection is composed using the basic couplet meter. It comes from the Vivarta-vilāsa of Ākiñcandāsa, edited by Bhaṭṭācārya, pp. 113-15.

In a lyrical poem [anonymous] it is said:

Upon the touch of the alchemist’s touchstone (sparśamaṇi) iron is turned into gold.

Iron becomes gold—this happens very often.

If you take some secret cosmic substance (vastu), and touch iron with it,

time and again the iron will become gold—know how to distinguish them!

Use judgment to behold that which seems not to exist.

Keep the company of practitioners, hold them close to your heart.

The crest-jewel and the touchstone are Lord Caitanya.

Without him the touchstone cannot be found anywhere.

He is the touchstone which makes the river Jambu into gold

as it flows down from the heavens.

That same divine love touched his disciples Rūpa (“Form”) and Sanātana (“Eternal One”).

Some souls have the good fortune to associate with practitioners.

Seeing the cosmic substance that has been obtained, they become very powerful.

Day and night they focus their minds on that form,

beholding with the eyes that which is eternally radiant.

That same form has no similarity to physical beauty,

seeing that the two—the moon and the sun—are within a single body.

The mind is continually focused on that same form.

At the feet of the Dark Lord, I ask for a vision.

[The narrator resumes:]

Those rituals which deserve the highest praise involve childless asceticism.

Please, I implore you, behold and understand the secret meanings!

On his head there is a pitcher (kumbha) to be filled.

When the pitcher is filled, the practitioner becomes very powerful.

Then divine love appears in his body.

Thus everyone says: “That inner country is a remarkable place.”

Hear about the different kinds of birth from the manuals of the practitioners and from the mouths of practitioners.

It is not even worth considering other viewpoints concerning the nature of devotion.

The grace of the guru and the grace of practitioners come after the grace of mother and father.

This tells you that there are two separate and distinct births.

There is no birth at all without uterine blood, semen, vagina, and penis.

How can that be? I will discuss its significance.

At first there was a birth due to the bonding between mother and father.

But behold how just a little grace from the guru can cause a rebirth (punarjanma).

That also involves uterine blood, semen, vagina, and penis.

Clear your mind and listen, for I speak the essence of this.

The praises for the Dark Lord are like the uterine blood,
while the seed syllable is like the semen.

The tongue of the master (guru) is like the penis,
while the ear of the disciple is like the vagina.

So, your birth should come about from these things.

You should really try to understand how you can be born through the grace of practitioners.

The eye and ear are some of the five organs of knowledge (jñāna-indriya).

In the beginning and intermediate stages of practice, you must make them compassionate.

Use the organ of knowledge that is the ear to hear about birth.

Use the eye to see the grace of the practitioners and the eternal order (nitya dharma).

You will then progress gradually through the three stages of practice: beginner, intermediate, and perfected.

Hear with the ear and see with the eye how these are all really one process.

You must realize, brother, that everything has its uterine blood and semen.

Semen and uterine blood will develop when one assumes the condition of Rādhā.

The condition of being Rādhā I call the “law of loving one who belongs to another” (parakīyādharma).

All of the principles of greed and devotion can be found in that condition.

Thus it is said [in an anonymous Sanskrit couplet]:

One should act according to Vaiṣṇava conduct.

Such a devout condition is hindered by greedy impulses.

Realize that there are many viewpoints and teachings in the world.

No one can understand their duty (dharma) with such confusion.

How will you know the nature of the self (ātma), the soul (jīva), and passionate love (rati)?

I say that the inner person will appear—yet nothing is known about it.

In its control are the god Brahmā and the souls, in birth and in death.

Time and time again it does nothing, simply reflecting on eternity.

Purity, activity, and inertia are the three qualities (guṇa) of the one who has been born.

By the hand of the physician a single vessel of wind, bile, and phlegm is delivered.

In The Immortal Acts of Caitanya (2.20.258) it is said:

Brahmā, Viṣṇu, and Śiva are the incarnations of the three qualities.

Fulfilling the promise of the three qualities is the process of creation.

[In 2.20.264:]

Just as milk becomes yogurt when mixed with a sour substance,

The active substance is not milk itself, so yogurt is not the same as milk.

[In 1.5.57:]

From far away, the cosmic man (puruṣa) is placed in a state of illusion (māyā).