The Practitioner of Bhakti, the Bhakta
The First Step in Bhakti: Association with a Bhakta
We now turn our attention to the bhakta as the performer of bhakti. One of the first questions Jīva raises in this regard in the Bhakti Sandarbha is: How does one become a bhakta? Put differently, if a bhakta is one who performs bhakti yoga out of devotion for Īśvara, then how is the initial devotional attraction, rāga, to Īśvara prompting a yogī to initially take up the path of bhakti developed in the first place? While, as we know, this rāga toward Īśvara is the cause of liberation and has nothing to do with the mundane attachments to the temporal personages or objects of prakṛti, it is still a rāga—a saṁskāra, or “mental imprint,” of something pleasing to the mind. Thus, although we are dealing with a unique sort of rāga, the psychological metaphysics and mechanisms are the same: whether mundane or devotional, saṁskāras do not self-manifest; they enter into the citta from external sense impressions, and bhakti is no different. So from where do the very first external impressions originate to then enter the mind to eventually form saṁskāras of rāga for Īśvara?
Jīva notes that some souls are already born with the saṁskāras of bhakti that were cultivated in a past life (see Gītā VI.37–47 for an exposition on this and the Tale of King Bharata in part 2 for a narrative example). These saṁskāras are triggered in the subsequent life when coming in contact with a bhakti environment, at which time such persons appear to be endowed with a natural or spontaneous attraction to bhakti; but this is, in fact, an attraction born of the reactivation of past-life saṁskāras. For such rare souls “who are already eager to hear, Īśvara is immediately captured” (I.1.2). Such individuals do not necessarily need a bhakti yoga path since their devotion appears spontaneous. But even then, the same question remains here, too: From where did the original seed of bhakti in some past life first originate?
For most, bhakti needs to be cultivated, requiring conscious and determined work owing to the presence of mundane desire and other spiritual defects that occupy and dominate the mind. We can locate the vast majority of bhaktas in this category given that even Prahlāda, one of the great mahājana (exemplar) devotees of all time,1 who will be encountered in part 2, laments: “O Viṣṇu, Lord of Vaikuṇṭha, my mind does not take pleasure in narratives about You: it is completely corrupt, impious, agitated, overwhelmed by lust, and tormented by joy, sorrow, fear, and desire. How then, with such a mind, can a wretch like me contemplate your nature?” (VII.9.39). It is for those with minds like this whose attraction is not spontaneous that a process is required; hence the efforts of theologians such as Jīva and Rūpa in composing voluminous literature outlining the path of bhakti yoga. But the question still remains: Whether in this or a past life, whether spontaneously or cultivated, how is anyone inspired to take up the process at all in the first instance? Whence the very first saṁskāra of attraction?
For the majority of newcomers to the path of bhakti, this first impulse is due to the grace of a bhakta, also known as a bhāgavata, an advanced practitioner of bhakti, who plants a deep seed of bhakti in the disciple’s mind, which overwhelms it. (The term bhāgavata refers both to the Bhāgavata Purāṇa as text and to the practitioner of its contents, that is, the devotee of Bhagavān; the former is differentiated from the latter herein by a capital letter.) At the beginning of the Bhāgavata (I.2.16–22), the sage Sūta outlines (what Jīva identifies as) the basic five-step process through which this beginning seed of bhakti is first attained and then cultivated—in other words, the method by which one typically becomes a bhakta. This sequence perhaps functions as a sort of minipreview of the role that the Bhāgavata itself is attempting to accomplish as its own raison d’être, which is precisely this planting of the seeds of bhakti.
First: “Attraction to the stories of Vāsudeva (Kṛṣṇa) develops for one who is faithful and desires to hear by means of service to the sages and assisting great saints” (I.2.16). The seed of bhakti is attained by associating with those who already have that seed. Here, Jīva points to the importance of holy places in Hinduism, as sages and saints—bhaktas—congregate in those sacred environments that are reminiscent of their beloved deity and thereby supportive of their meditative practices (as is still the case today), such as Kṛṣṇa’s childhood home, Vṛndāvana. And bhaktas, says Jīva, naturally discuss their beloved Īśvara among themselves (anu 11):
In that place where there are bhāgavata devotees, O king, who are saints with pure hearts and minds eagerly hearing and reciting the narratives and qualities of Bhagavān, there, rivers of the nectar of narrations about Viṣṇu recited by the great souls flow everywhere. Those who imbibe these narrations with inundated ears without getting satiated, O king, are never affected by illusion, sorrow, fear, or hunger. (IV.29.39–40)
Holy places thus provide a locus where bhaktas can be encountered, and it is by associating with such persons, hearing from them, admiring their character and devotion, and assisting them in their service to Īśvara that one’s own very first seed of bhakti is born: “From association with saints, realization of My power arises. Then, these narratives of My activities become pleasing to the ears and the heart. By enjoying them, faith, love, and devotion quickly manifest consecutively on the path to liberation” (III.25.25). Thus the association of bhaktas is, in essence, nothing other than śravaṇa, hearing, the first of the nine processes of bhakti: “Among such souls, discussions of the qualities of Viṣṇu are relished and mundane topics avoided. By cultivating these discussions daily, the pure mind of the seeker of liberation becomes inclined toward Vāsudeva [Kṛṣṇa]” (V.12.13). One’s first step to becoming a bhakta, then, is through fellowship with other bhaktas.
As a result of this association, in the next step, the kleśas, impediments to yoga, such as ignorance, ego, desire, and so on, are purified, as they must be cleared from the mind for higher Truths to manifest therein. This is the case with all yoga practice—for instance, the kriyā yoga practice of the Yoga Sūtras, performed “to weaken the kleśas so as to bring about samādhi” (II.1–2ff.). Bhakti is no different (in the chapter “Definition of Bhakti,” we noted that the removal of the kleśas is one of the six accompanying qualities of bhakti identified by Rūpa), and Jīva here situates this process as the second step in attaining the seed of bhakti. It is the following of the practices of bhakti that removes the impediments to the actual manifestation of bhakti itself: “Just as gold, when heated by fire, relinquishes its impurities and attains again its original nature, so the mind, through the performance of bhakti yoga, is purified of its accumulation of karma and attains to Me” (XI.14.25). As throughout the Gītā,2 and hinted at in the Yoga Sūtras,3 such purification is gained by grace: “To those who hear His narratives, Kṛṣṇa, who is the friend of the truthful and is situated within the heart, cleanses inauspicious things. Hearing about Him and performing His kīrtana are purifying” (I.2.17).4 The aspirant is at this stage deepening the process of becoming a bhakta in his or her own right.
As a consequence of purification, the third step, the dawning of bhakti, can then ensue: “When almost all inauspicious things are destroyed by means of constant service to the bhāgavatas, then unshakable bhakti for Bhagavān, who is praised in the best of verses, manifests” (I.2.18). The word “almost” here indicates that bhakti appears even while there are still traces of ignorance and prakṛti-related desires, says Jīva (anu 13).5 In the fourth step, after all desires have been completely destroyed, “then the mind, situated in sattva and not being agitated by states of rajas and tamas—lust, greed, and so on—becomes content” (I.2.19). In bhakti, when the mind becomes joyful by the practices, it automatically abandons lust, simply by dint of a higher taste (Gītā II.59). Experiencing the bliss of bhakti, one’s status and self-identification as a bhakta have now pervaded deep into one’s very being. The practitioner’s mind in this penultimate step is in a state of pure sattva and “becomes qualified for direct experience (sākṣātkāra) into the nature of Bhagavān” (anu 16).
Finally, in the fifth step, this actual direct encounter with Īśvara can take place, and any residual imperfection at this point is completely destroyed. As with the mokṣa traditions in general,6 the claim here is experience: “Direct realization of the Truth of Bhagavān7 manifests for one whose mind is content and who is free from attachment through the practice of bhakti yoga in this way. When Īśvara is seen (dṛṣṭa) within oneself, the knot [of ego] in the heart is broken, all doubts are destroyed, and karma is weakened for that person” (I.2.20–21). The practitioner’s status as a bhakta can now never be shaken or compromised. We need to stress again that this “direct experience” of Īśvara is visual (although Īśvara can also manifest sonically and in other ways, as we discussed). The ultimate cherished goal of the bhakta is a “vision” of God—the personal God with form and qualities discussed previously. This vision can manifest within the “heart” of the practitioner, or externally to the senses, as we will see in the Tale of Prince Dhruva:
Viṣṇu, on account of the intensity of Dhruva’s mature yoga practice, appeared in the lotus of Dhruva’s heart, effulgent as lightning. After this, Dhruva observed that He suddenly disappeared. [Opening his eyes,] Dhruva then saw Him standing outside in the same position. Seeing that vision, Dhruva was thrown into confusion. He prostrated his body on the ground like a stick8 and offered obeisances. Beholding Lord Viṣṇu, the boy was as if drinking Him with his eyes, kissing Him with his mouth, and embracing Him with his arms. (IV.9.1–2)
The “lotus of Dhruva’s heart” refers to the mind: the heart has been identified as the locus of both the citta and the ātman since the Upaniṣads.9 Since the mind, citta, is external to consciousness, Īśvara’s form can manifest in the mind, subtle prakṛti, just as it can manifest in gross prakṛti. Both layerings of prakṛti are in fact external to consciousness itself, even as one appears to be “internal” and one “external” from the perspective of the sensual apparatus of the physical eyes (see Yoga Sūtras III.7–8). We have discussed how such visions can deepen into witnessing not just Kṛṣṇa’s form and qualities, but His active pastimes (līlā) and the possibility of eventually personally participating in them for all eternity in the liberated state. The spiritual (Brahman) body and mind required for this will be discussed later.
Returning to the five consecutive stages of bhakti, Jīva recognizes that until direct experience transpires, there cannot be complete and utter freedom from doubt (anu 16).10 One risks the danger of fanaticism if one does not entertain some level of doubt about that which one has not experienced. But after direct experience, doubt evaporates and there is nothing left to do but remain immersed in the bliss of continued bhakti: “After Īśvara is seen within oneself, the poet-sages always engage in great ecstasy in bhakti for Bhagavān Vāsudeva, which satisfies the mind” (I.2.21–22). In any event, for our present purposes, in answer to the question we initially raised, the first seed of bhakti, which eventually culminates in the fruit of this type of direct experience of Īśvara and subsequent immersion in the bliss of a bhakti relationship with Him—in other words, the process of becoming a bhakta—is triggered by an initial encounter with an advanced bhakta or bhaktas. This is repeatedly stressed throughout the Bhāgavata: “Someone wandering [in the cycle of saṁsāra] who encounters a holy person, O Kṛṣṇa, attains the end of material existence. Such an encounter allows an inclination to take root toward You” (X.51.54).11
Such encounters reflect the compassion of advanced bhaktas who, rather than enjoying their ecstasies in seclusion, make themselves available: “Auspicious devotees of Kṛṣṇa wander around out of compassion for those unrighteous and very miserable people who, out of misfortune, have become averse to Kṛṣṇa” (III.5.3). As with the Buddhist Bodhisattva tradition, some sages, such as child Prahlāda, even renounce their own liberation so as to help others in their spiritual quest: “Often, O God, sages, desirous of their own liberation, cultivate silence in a solitary place; they are not concerned with the welfare of others. But I have no desire for liberation for myself alone, abandoning these unfortunate souls. Other than You, I see no other refuge for one wandering [in saṁsāra]” (VII.9.44).
In sum, the role of the bhaktas in the planting of the first seeds of bhakti in others is indispensable. Kṛṣṇa informs Uddhava that “neither the practice of yoga, nor the study of Sāṅkhya, nor the pursuit of dharma, nor study of sacred texts (svādhyāya), nor austerities (tapas) and renunciation, nor ritualistic performances, nor charity, nor vows, nor sacrificial hymns, nor visiting holy places, nor the moral abstentions and observances (yama and niyama) attract Me as much as the association of saints” (XI.12.1–2). As mentioned, the reason for this is that bhaktas are constantly immersed in meditating on the activities and qualities of Īśvara:
Narrations about Me are always taking place among those greatly blessed souls, and these narrations purify the vices of those who hear them. Those who attentively hear them, recite them, and delight in them, holding Me as their Lord with faith, attain love for Me. I am Brahman of unlimited qualities, and My nature is blissful experience. What else is there to be desired for those saints who have attained bhakti for Me? Just as cold, fear, and darkness are dispelled for one taking shelter of fire, so it is with service to the saints. (XI.26.28–31)
The tale of the genesis of his own spiritual journey is recounted by sage Nārada in part 2, and exemplifies how one who became the greatest bhakta of all12 began his devotional journey by dint of the fact that his mother was a maidservant to a community of sages. This afforded the young Nārada the opportunity to hear from and serve these great souls:
Permitted by the sages to eat the remnants of their food, I partook of it once daily, and from this all my sins were destroyed.13 Engaged in this manner, with purified mind, a personal interest in their religion developed firmly in me. From this, by their kindness, I went on listening to the captivating narrations of Kṛṣṇa’s pastimes that were recited by them. Listening attentively to every word of those narrations with faith, an attraction arose in me for Kṛṣṇa. Hearing about Him is so pleasing to the heart, O great sages! Then, once I had developed this attraction, my mind became firmly fixed in Kṛṣṇa. Narrations about Him are so relishable. As a result, I could perceive that due to my illusion, this gross and subtle reality had been imagined to be in me, whereas I am actually the Supreme Brahman. (I.5.25–27)
In fact, the entire Bhāgavata text is spoken under this principle of great devotees transmitting the seeds of bhakti. The imparting of the teachings of the Bhāgavata in the first place is triggered by King Parīkṣit, who has seven days left to live, encountering sage Śuka. As a consequence, Śuka imparts the Bhāgavata to him, to the gratitude of the king:
The king said:
“Aho! The human birth is the most excellent of all births. What good is there in other births—even in that other world [the celestial realm]—if there is not the abundant association of great souls, whose minds are purified by the glories of Kṛṣṇa? There is nothing to be amazed at in the fact that sins are destroyed, and pure bhakti to Kṛṣṇa occurs from the dust of Your lotus feet. My ignorance, rooted in false reasoning, has been destroyed by a moment of Your association.” (V.13.21–22)
Indirectly, then, the Bhāgavata as text positions itself as embodying this association with advanced bhaktas in the form of recording and preserving their narratives as well as the descriptions of Kṛṣṇa’s līlās. Thus, just as those fortunate enough to have taken birth when Kṛṣṇa incarnated on earth attained perfection, the text claims that “those born after Kṛṣṇa’s departure to His abode who are fortunate enough to encounter the Bhāgavata Purāṇa, listen to it, read it, and contemplate it with a devoted heart, will likewise attain liberation” (XII.13.18). Reading the Bhāgavata thus constitutes a powerful means of initially beginning (or, if begun, deepening) one’s devotional life.
Within this context of receiving the first seeds of bhakti from the fellowship of other bhaktas, called satsaṅga (literally the “coming together of saints”), Jīva then focuses more specifically on the figure of the guru as the most important element of this satsaṅga. He notes that there are two types of neophytes (or, perhaps more precisely, approaches adopted by newcomers) when encountering the association of bhaktas (anu 202). The first, which I venture to state is by far the most common, is that a beginner, inspired by a particular bhakta or association of bhaktas, accepts a person from their ranks as spiritual teacher. Typically, one subsequently becomes interested in hearing about Īśvara in the mode Īśvara is understood in that tradition. In other words, one is initially attracted by a community or by a charismatic and then simply inherits the form of Īśvara and, we can add, sectarian metaphysical and theological specifics through which Īśvara is received in that community (such as those that will be touched upon in “The Object of Bhakti”). The newcomer eventually worships that form in the specific ritualistic manner, filtered through the philosophical and theological categories, that defines that community. As an aside, we see this phenomenon clearly from the examples of the lineage-embedded Hindu teachers who came to the West in the 1960s. Their disciples were initially attracted by the guru’s charisma, and only subsequently, sometimes after many years, did some of these students begin to excavate more fully the specificities and complexities of the teacher’s lineage tradition—be it Kaśmir Śaivism, advaita Vedānta, Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇavism, or others (and in some cases, such as in some of the Krishnamācārya-derived yoga schools, have for the most part still to seriously engage with, in this case, the twelveth-century theologian Rāmānuja’s lineage, Śrī Vaiṣṇavism, with its philosophical tradition, viśiṣṭādvaita Vedānta, of their founding teachers).
In such association, continues Jīva, one studies the requisite texts associated with that tradition, engaging them in the manner established by Vedānta exegesis (methods of interpretation),14 deliberating on their import and dispelling doubts and misconceptions as to their Truths. Simultaneously, the aspirant gradually develops faith in the form of Īśvara central to that tradition as well as an emotional attachment to that form. Typically, this involves viewing that form as primary among all other forms of Īśvara and carefully adopting the ritualistic and meditative bhakti practices associated with that form, according to the specifics of that tradition (such as performing japa, mantra repetition of the name of that form, as one’s meditation practice).
Jīva considers this first type of approach an analytical path, which he contrasts with the second approach, which is guided by taste (anu 202) that transcends the analytical mind. By “taste” (ruci), he intends the natural attraction spontaneously experienced when directing the mind to Īśvara, a corollary of rāga. While the association of bhaktas is the trigger for both types of aspirants, there are those who immediately experience attraction for the narrations of Īśvara once they hear them; they do not need to cultivate their devotion or analyze it. For this type of bhakta, deliberation and study are not requisite ingredients.15 But here, too, since relishing any kind of taste is the product of past experience recorded in the citta (that is, saṁskāra), one can surmise that this second type of aspirant who experiences immediate attraction had previously practiced bhakti in past lives to reach this stage. Therefore, Jīva suggests that such a fortunate newcomer should worship the form of Īśvara to which he or she is already spontaneously attracted (XI.3.48 and XI. 27.7); those preexisting saṁskāras are already in place.
Eventually, the person from whom one begins to hear teachings, or someone from the community of such people, becomes the śikṣā guru, “instructing teacher,” says Jīva (anu 202). While a person may have many śikṣā gurus, an aspirant generally accepts one of them as the primary guide in the specifics of practice and worship, and this person is known as the dīkṣā guru, “initiating guru.” This guru initiates one into the lineage, and one’s primary spiritual allegiance is subsequently offered to him or her. This choice of a guru is a matter of taste:
One seeking knowledge of the ultimate welfare should approach a guru who is learned in the scripture, absorbed in Brahman, and is the abode of peace. Holding the guru as his own self and as the Lord, and attending him free from deceit, one should learn the Bhāgavata dharma. By this, Hari, the ātman [of the universe] and the one who bestows realization of the ātman, is pleased. (XI.3.21)
The bhakta who takes the role of guru is the most important entity to emerge from satsaṅga, or the company of the bhaktas: “I [Kṛṣṇa] am not as satisfied by worship, [high] birth, austere practices and tranquillity of mind as I am by obedience to the guru” (X.80.34). Rūpa lists sixty-four practices that constitute vaidhī bhakti, from which he identifies the first three as the most important (Bhaktirasāmṛtasindhu II.83), all of them featuring the guru: “taking shelter at the feet of the guru, accepting initiation (dīkṣā) and instruction from the guru, and rendering service to the guru” (Bhaktirasāmṛtasindhu II.74). These are essentially a rewording of the Gītā, where seeking the shelter of the guru takes the form of rendering service in exchange for receiving guidance: “The learned ones who have seen the Truth can impart that knowledge to you; know that Truth through humble submission, inquiry, and rendering service to them” (VI.34).
Without a guru, progress on the spiritual journey is hard going: “Addicted to hundreds of vices, those in this world who neglect the guru, and who attempt to control the wild horse of the uncontrolled and very fickle mind through restraint of the breathing and of the senses, become frustrated with their methods. They are like the merchant on the ocean who has not taken a helmsman” (X.87.33). Since the guru delivers Īśvara, he or she is treated with the greatest respect: “The guru is a manifestation of Bhagavān Himself, who bestows the light of knowledge. If one thinks of the guru as an imperfect human being, all one’s scriptural knowledge is wasted, like the bathing of an elephant [who immediately then goes and again rolls around in the sand]” (VII.15.26). And again: “One should consider the ācārya (guru) to be I Myself [Kṛṣṇa] and never disrespect him or think him to be a common person. The guru is the embodiment of all the celestials” (XI.17.27). From the other side, the guru too has a responsibility: “One should not be a guru, one should not be a relative, one should not be a father, one should not be a mother, one should not be a celestial being, and one should not be a husband, if one cannot liberate [one’s dependents] from engagement with the process of death (saṁsāra)” (V.5.18).
This might be a good occasion to introduce the first verse from one of Rūpa’s other works, the Upadeśāmṛta, (Nectar of Instruction), which lists six minimal qualifications necessary for anyone who assumes the role of guru in guiding others on their spiritual journey: “The person of fixed mind, dhīra, who can control the urge (vega) to speak, the urges of the mind and of anger, and the urges of the tongue, belly, and genitals, is qualified to teach all over the world” (1). The guru can obviously not lead a disciple beyond the impulses of the body and mind to any higher reality that might exist if he or she has not personally surpassed them. Relevant here is Arjuna’s question in the Gītā pertaining to the characteristics of the dhīra (the sage whose mind is fixed on the goals of yoga)16 and Kṛṣṇa’s extensive responses, all featuring absence of desire as a central feature (II.54–72).17 Detachment and absence of desire are characteristics of the advanced practitioner of all the mokṣa traditions. Even Patañjali, in his usual oblique and understated manner, points to the possibility of fixing the mind on a guru-like figure but qualifies that such a person must be “free of desire” (vīta-rāga, Yoga Sūtras I.37).
Given the life of extreme austerity Jīva, the other Gosvāmīs, and their fellow radically renounced ascetics were leading in Vṛndāvana in the sixteenth century, in contrast to the spectacle of the extravagant lifestyles and controversial behaviors surrounding many modern-day charismatics, it goes without saying that genuine bhaktas, completely enamored with their beloved Īśvara, have no attachment to material things. They thus seek no personal gain from their disciples: “O Lord with the lotus navel! Those who associate with Your devotees, whose hearts are enamored by the fragrance of Your lotus feet, forget about this mortal life, sons, friends, households, wealth, and wives” (IV.9.12).
The centrality of bhakta association, then, and of the guru in particular, simply cannot be overstressed, and Jīva returns to it again and again throughout his work, following the leads of the Bhāgavata: “Saṁsāra is the continued cycle of ignorance of a living being who in reality is ātman. The remedy is supreme bhakti to the guru” (IV.29.36); “Through service of a topmost bhāgavata devotee, the intense experience of love18 will manifest for the lotus feet of Kṛṣṇa, who removes all vice” (III.7.19); “[Attaining] the celestial realm or liberation is not equal to even half a moment’s association with a bhāgavata devotee; what then to speak of the blessings of mortal beings?” (IV.24.5719); “A sinful person does not purify himself as much through such things as austerity, as one whose life is devoted to Kṛṣṇa does by service to Kṛṣṇa’s devotees” (VI.1.16). Association with such bhāgavatas overrides all other bhakti practices, including the nine standard ones discussed previously, and can award the desired result independently of any other means (although Jīva hastens to add that the other practices should not thereby be discarded! anu 283–84):
By merely satsaṅga, the association of saints, in different yugas [ages], those whose nature was rajas and tamas, even demons … animals, birds;… various kinds of celestial beings;… and, among humans, merchants, laborers, women;20 and many others, attained My abode. They did not study the Veda, nor serve great mahātmās, nor undertake vows or tapas, but attained Me through the association of saints. Indeed, merely by their love (bhāva) did the gopī cowherding women, the cows, deer, and other simpleminded beings such as snakes attain perfection and easily come to Me” (XI.12.3–5).
Some of these remarks about animals and such become clearer in part 3 after reading the narratives of the tenth book, where all the flora and fauna in the entire landscape of Vraj adores Kṛṣṇa, but what should be clear at this point is that this love, bhāva, is attained from those who already have bhāva: the satsaṅga of bhaktas. And from among them, the guru is particular. And just like rāga for Kṛṣṇa Himself, attachment to the guru and the satsaṅga is a completely different affair from the attachments to the other personages and objects of prakṛti that the bhakta, just like any other yogī, is striving to transcend: “Attachment, when placed in unrighteous people out of ignorance, is the cause of saṁsāra; but when placed in the saints, it leads to non-attachment” (III.23.55).
Having said all this, however, and given the seemingly never-ending scandals and controversies associated with many modern-day gurus (and past ones, too),21 we feel obliged to quote Rūpa’s cautionary note here that “bhakti that is promoted by means of wealth and numerous disciples is discounted, because it loses the highest state through distancing [one from Hari because of these distractions]” (Bhaktirasāmṛtasindhu II.259). This statement speaks for itself. Additionally, and related to the same point, students familiar with the non-negotiability of the yamas and niyamas (moral and ethical restraints and observances)22 in generic yoga—which Patañjali, with uncharacteristic emphasis, stresses are a mandatory and absolute “great vow” irrespective of any criteria such as time, place, circumstance, and condition (II.31)—will soon notice that they do not find a place in the list of the nine main practices of bhakti, or even in the much more expansive list of sixty-four practices outlined by Rūpa. This is because the groundwork laid down by texts such as the Yoga Sūtras is taken for granted in bhakti: “For one absorbed in Kṛṣṇa, the yamas and niyamas such as cleanliness (śauca) and the others are automatically present, hence they are not specifically included under the limbs (aṅga) of bhakti; qualities such as ahiṁsā, etc., are not remarkable: those engaged in bhakti to Hari automatically never harm others”23 (Bhaktirasāmṛtasindhu Eastern Quadrant II.261–62). Such basics are so obvious and generic for all mainstream schools of yoga, they are assumed by Jīva and Rūpa.
Given the importance of the issue—and the enormous psychological damage caused to the disillusioned disciples of the numerous guru figures who have succumbed to scandals—we feel obliged to reiterate that anyone posturing as a guru without adhering to the yamas and niyamas, or who presents some theological or esoteric justification for deviancy from these, is completely at odds with the Bhāgavata tradition, Patañjali’s yoga, and practically all orthodox Indic schools, including the Buddhist and Jain traditions. And, needless to say, genuine saints would never exploit the service rendered them by those seeking guidance on the devotional path: “They are peaceful, impartial, focused on Me, calm, see all beings equally, free of any sense of proprietorship, free of ego, above all dualities, and free of coveting (aparigraha)” (XI.26.27). We note that charisma is not a listed ingredient. There is much that could be said here, as the abusive potential of the guru disciple relationship is obvious,24 but such descriptions in the sacred texts at least provide a standard against which the behavior and qualities of guru figures can be gauged.
As will be discussed in some detail from a more philosophical perspective in “The Object of Bhakti,” there are two basic categories of mahant, or great enlightened personalities, recognized by the Bhāgavata tradition. There are those absorbed in Brahman (that is, their inner ātman self) and those absorbed in Bhagavān: “The mahants are both either the sādhus who are equanimous in mind,25 peaceful, free of anger, and well-wishers to all, or they are those whose goal is to establish affection for Me as Lord” (V.5.2–3). The first of these is considered great, says Jīva, because of awareness of the ātman, the other because of awareness of Bhagavān (anu 186). However, their quality of greatness is not the same: “Even among thousands who are liberated and perfected [that is, who have realized the ātman], a peaceful soul who is devoted to Nārāyaṇa [Viṣṇu] is very rare” (VI.14.5). Put more emphatically, “Liberation is not comparable with even a moment of association with Bhagavān’s devotees” (I.18.13). The Gītā too notes that “from many thousands of people, barely anyone strives for perfection, and from those striving or already perfected, barely one knows Me as I am” (VII.3). Nonetheless, since we will be focusing primarily on the bhakta absorbed in Bhagavān in this volume, we should take a moment to at least note the extraordinary characteristics of the other type of great personality, the sage absorbed in the nondual awareness of Brahman in the form of the ātman:
His consciousness is withdrawn from the external world. He should remain silent, absorbed in the experience of his own inner bliss, free of desire, his thirst extinguished. If, nonetheless, he sometimes still perceives this world, which has been rejected by his intelligence as unreal, as the memory will persist until the end of life, it will not cause any illusion. A perfected being does not perceive whether the perishable body, through which he has realized the true self (svarūpa),26 is seated or arisen, or whether, by chance, it has gone off somewhere, or, under the control of Fate, returned.27 He is like a person intoxicated by alcohol who does not know if his cloth is still covering him. The body along with the life air will continue, under the control of Fate, for as long as the karma that has been activated for that life has not run out.28 But one who has mastered the state of the yoga of samādhi does not again participate in the forms of the world, any more than a person upon waking up participates in the objects of a dream. (XI.13.35–37)
The reason such Brahman realization is not sought after by bhaktas, says Jīva, is that it eliminates the distinction between Bhagavān and the jīva (or, through Vaiṣṇava perspectives, it is a state in which consciousness is not aware of the eternally distinct Īśvara owing to being exclusively absorbed in its own nature of pure consciousness). Without this distinction, there can be no bhakti (anu 188) and, consequently, no bliss from personal association with Īśvara. As we have noted, the Īśvara-derived bliss is held to be incomparably greater than the ātman-derived one. Hence the many frequent statements throughout the text that the bhaktas have no interest in this Brahman type of liberation and, indeed, reject it even if offered: “Some bhāgavatas do not desire attaining the state of oneness with the ātman; they are satisfied with the service of My feet and long for Me. Congregating together, they praise My wonderful deeds” (III.25.34).
The second type of mahant is the bhakta. Jīva hierarchizes this type into three categories, gleaned, as always, from the Bhāgavata: uttama bhaktas, highest; madhyama bhaktas, intermediate; and prākṛta bhaktas, materialistic (anu 187–90). From these: “The highest devotee (bhāgavata-uttamaḥ) is one who sees the presence of his Bhagavān in all beings, and all beings within Bhagavān” (XI.2.45). This superlative type of bhakta has a universalizing vision similar to that of the Brahman-realized yogī in the quote above, except that his equanimity is not based just on the ability to perceive the ātman in all beings but is bolstered by an awareness that these ātmans are in fact manifestations and parts of Īśvara. But, more than this, his mind is primarily absorbed in thoughts of the deeds and activities of Īśvara, personal Brahman, rather than in the passive experience of the ātman, nonpersonal Brahman. This additional element expresses itself more conspicuously in the behavior of this category of bhakta compared with that of the standard ātman/Brahman-absorbed yogī:
Let him wander around without attachment in this world, hearing about those most auspicious incarnations and deeds of Hari, the bearer of the discus,29 singing without embarrassment songs and names associated with these. Following this vow, his love awakened and his heart melted while chanting loudly the names of his beloved Lord, he laughs, he weeps, he cries out, he sings, and he dances like a madman, completely indifferent to social norms. With exclusive devotion, he pays respect to the sky, wind, fire, water, earth, stars, living beings, directions, trees and vegetation, rivers, and oceans, and every created thing as the body of Hari. (XI.2.39–42)
While both Brahman-realized and Īśvara-absorbed yogīs are immersed in states of consciousness beyond the guṇas of prakṛti and are thus behaviorally beyond conventional social norms, the Bhāgavata presents the uttama bhakta as manifesting intense characteristics of ecstasy that are symptomatically quite different from the peaceful and withdrawn symptoms of the yogī immersed in the ātman. These states of mind reflect the greater degree of ecstasy experienced from contact with the personal Īśvara in comparison with the experience of the bliss inherent in the impersonal ātman. Moreover, in this state, the world is perceived everywhere as a manifestation of the Beloved, rather than merely a false or temporary illusory obstacle to be avoided or transcended (similar in some ways to the enlightened perception of the world according to Kaśmir Śaivism).
As we have noted, the gopīs, the simplehearted, uneducated, cowherding maidens we will encounter in part 3, are heralded as the highest of all yogīs and indeed exhibit the vision noted in the last line of the above quote pertaining to the devotionally surcharged perceptions of the inanimate world. For them, “the trees and creeping plants of the forest seem to be experiencing Viṣṇu in themselves. Richly endowed with fruits and flowers, the trees pour forth streams of honey, their young branches bowing reverentially with their load, and their bodies bristling with the ecstasy of love” (X.35.9). In the gopīs’ God-intoxicated vision, the entire natural world appears to be worshipping Hari in ecstatic love: “The rivers found their force disrupted by their states of mind after hearing the sound of Mukunda’s [Kṛṣṇa’s] flute, as could be seen from their whirlpools. Bearing offerings of lotus flowers, the rivers grasped the two feet of Murāri [Kṛṣṇa] and embraced them closely with their arms in the form of waves” (X.21.15).
Before leaving the landscape of Vraj reflected in these verses, where Kṛṣṇa passed His childhood days, to consider the other two types of bhaktas—the madhyama, intermediate, and prākṛta, materialistic devotees—it is worth revisiting the notion of yogamāyā and connecting that discussion to the mind-set of the highest bhaktas, the uttamas: “Whether one knows or does not know who I am—the extent and nature of My being—if someone worships Me with unalloyed devotion, that person is considered an uttama bhakta” (XI.11.33). This lack of awareness referred to here of who God actually is, is fundamental to the highest states of bhakti that will be encountered in part 3 in the stories from the tenth book—specifically, among Kṛṣṇa’s family members and the cowherding community in Vṛndāvana. These simple folks are depicted in the text as having performed bhakti for many, many lives before their devotion reached the requisite intensity that earned them a birth in intimate proximity to Kṛṣṇa during His descent, but they are all uttama bhaktas: their love is so intense that, aided by yogamāyā, it overrides awareness even of Kṛṣṇa’s majesty and obliterates even the knowledge that Kṛṣṇa is God. Their devotion has reached such a peak that they can think of Kṛṣṇa only as their lover, friend, child, and the like, depending on their bhāva.
The second type of bhakta mahant discussed by Jīva is the madhyama bhakta, the “middle level” or intermediate bhakta. His or her characteristics reflect a schema that was widespread among the soteriological schools (surfacing, for instance, in Yoga Sūtras I.33 and as the brahma-vihāras in various Buddhist suttas),30 but here with variations in phraseology to reflect the Bhāgavata’s devotionality: “The madhyama acts with love (prema) for Īśvara, friendship (maitrī) toward those devoted to Him, compassion (kṛpā) toward the ignorant, and equanimity (upekṣā) toward the envious” (XI.2.46). In this type of awareness characteristic of the madhyama, we see judgmental behavior, albeit benevolent, based on the perception of distinctions among living beings, in contrast to the uttama bhakta’s feelings of love for all beings as manifestations of Īśvara with no sense of differentiation.
The third category of bhakta mahant, the materialist (prākṛta) devotee, is far more restricted in his or her ability to perceive the omnipresence of Īśvara: “One who offers pūjā (worship) to Hari in the form of the deity with faith, but not to the bhaktas or to other people, is a worldly devotee” (XI.2.47). Such a neophyte practitioner who differentiates, says Jīva, and who does not have reverence for all beings, has not developed love of God. Such a person is either new to the path, or devoid of deep study, or expressing devotion only out of social convention (anu 190). Jīva further characterizes such a person (somewhat unflatteringly) with this quote from the Bhāgavata: “One who identifies this corpse made of the three elements to be the self, considers his wife and family to be his own, holds the earth to be worthy of worship, understands water to be sacred, but does not accept those who are wise, is truly a donkey or a cow” (X.84.13).
Jīva then considers these three divisions of bhaktas from the perspective of the attitude toward dharma and social conventions exhibited by each of them, respectively. The worldly (prākṛta) devotee performs bhakti mixed with other concerns, such as attachment to the performance of dharma, as discussed previously in the analysis of “mixed bhakti.” The madhyama (intermediate) bhakta renounces dharma in his or her complete dedication to the service of Īśvara but is still aware of the conventional norms and results pertaining to dharma and adharma, and so in this minor sense the uninhibited and full immersion of the mind in bhakti is mildly delimited. Additionally, the bhakta’s devotion is also curtailed by knowledge of God’s majesty and omnipotency in this stage. But the uttama bhakta is so immersed in love of God that he or she has no awareness of whether his or her behavior conforms to dharma whatsoever—indeed, entertains no considerations of dharma or social gradations in the first place. And as we have seen with the rāgātmika bhaktas, the devotee at this stage often has no awareness of the majesty and supreme ontological status of God Himself even when entering into very intimate relationships with Him.
Before concluding this section on the varieties of bhaktas, we can include Rūpa’s hierarchization of devotees in his Upadeśāmṛta, but here with the purpose of suggesting how one should appropriately interact in a devotional environment with different levels of bhaktas:
One should offer respect in the mind toward one who utters the name “Kṛṣṇa”; one should offer respect with obeisances to one who has taken spiritual initiation into a Vaiṣṇava lineage (dīkṣā) and is worshipping Īśvara; and one should offer respect by seeking the cherished association of, and serving and hearing from one whose heart is completely cleansed of faults such as criticizing others, and who is mature in full absorption in devotional practices. (5)
Rūpa also cautions us not to judge bhaktas by any type of bodily criteria, including caste, social status, or any other such material designations:
One should not look upon the prakṛtic (material) nature of a person who is a bhakta here in this world, nor at the visible defects of his or her body which are attained at birth due to past-life karma. The transcendent (Brahman) essence of the waters of the Gaṅgā river is lost [if one looks at] the quality of the water, with its bubbles, foam, and mud. (6)
Rūpa makes one further set of relevant comments as to what transpires between bhaktas in addition to their discussions about Kṛṣṇa: “The six signs of love [between bhaktas] are: giving gifts and receiving them; inquiring confidentially and revealing one’s mind confidentially; and offering and accepting foodstuffs” (4). This is not the place to embark on a discussion of the āśrama experiences of the various forms of yoga transplanted to the West in the 1960s, but without such loving reciprocations and honest exchanges of confidentialities that Rūpa notes, life in communities of practitioners can very easily and quickly become institutionalized, hierarchical, judgmental, spiritually oppressive, and, all too often, abusive.
The Liberated Bhakta: Different Types of Mokṣa in the Bhāgavata
We can conclude this section on the bhakta by considering the ultimate destinations that the accomplished and perfected practitioners can attain in the postmortem liberated state. Let us recall that the Bhāgavata’s definition of bhakti quoted at the outset was that those who perform it were “so free of motive … that, without service to [Kṛṣṇa], they do not accept the five types of liberation, even if these are offered. We have made several references to these varying types of liberation and it is now time to discuss them. These are: residing in the same abode as Viṣṇu (sālokya), having the same opulence as Him (sārṣṭi), being close to Him (sāmīpya), having the same form as Him (sārūpya), and merging into Him (ekatvam)” (III.29.12–14).
In the Bhāgavata schema expressed in this verse, the generic goal of conventional yoga corresponds to the fifth item on the list, ekatvam, “the state of oneness.” It is described by Patañjali as “the immersion of the seer [consciousness] within its own nature” (draṣṭuḥ svarupe ’vasthānam, I.3). We have been referring to this variously as the experience of ātman, realization of Brahman, or impersonal realization (and will be referring to it in the next section as the monistic experience). Other terms include kaivalya, “oneness”; ātma-jñāna, “awareness of the self”; nirvāṇa, literally “blowing out”;31 and the by now familiar synonyms mokṣa and mukti.
We can briefly note in passing that there are differences in how this “oneness” is understood in certain jñāna and yoga traditions. In advaita Vedānta, for example, there is only one Supreme Ātman, which is in fact the nondual Brahman, as we will discuss in the next section; so in liberation, when consciousness attains this state, it loses all sense of individuality as well as awareness of the world of duality, which were both illusory in the first place according to advaita tenets. In this state consciousness is aware of only “one” experience—its own nature of pure, blissful, eternal consciousness. For the Sāṅkhya and Yoga traditions, the liberated ātman maintains individuality and the world remains real, but, absorbed in its own infinite nature, pure consciousness is aware neither of the real world nor of other individual ātmans whether liberated or not. We would suggest that although the scholastics of the former school posit that in ultimate reality there is only one infinite ātman and no real world, and those of the latter maintain that there is an eternal plurality of infinite ātmans and an eternally real world, this is an intellectually constructed issue. From an experiential point of view, their experiences appear identical: an awareness of nothing other than eternal and infinite awareness free from all suffering.32 Hence, all these traditions can lay claim to terms such as ekatvam, “oneness,” and its synonym kaivalya (as well as the term jñāna, “knowing”), to describe this experience. In other words, in this state it is irrelevant if the world is real or not, or if there are other individual ātmans simultaneously absorbed in this experience, or if they have all merged into one undifferentiated unity, as the experience of ekatvam itself is trans-spatial (infinite) and transtemporal (eternal) and devoid of any notion of “individuality” and “world out there” at all. This is because there is no buddhi, intellect, covering the ātman deliberating on such things. It is only for the scholastics left behind embedded in their intellect, mind, and senses for which such issues are important and become the basis for debate among schools.
In keeping with these traditions, the Bhāgavata recognizes this impersonal experience of oneness, ekatvam, as one of the five types of liberation. Like these other schools, it accepts it to be a state in which the ātman has no form or qualities and that the experience of the ātman in this state is exclusively one of sat-cit-ānanda (being, consciousness, and bliss). It accepts everything noted above that advaita or Sāṅkhya posit about that state experientially. However, when bhakti yoga to Īśvara is practiced rather than jñāna or yoga, the Bhāgavata tradition (and Vaiṣṇavism in general) posits that there are four other types of liberation that become available in addition to ekatvam and that these bestow divine (Brahman) personal transcendent forms and qualities on the individual ātman when liberated. We can note in passing that the Vedānta Sūtras, in its characteristically minimalistic and truncated way, also recognizes that there is an option in liberation as to whether the released souls attain a liberated body or not (IV.4.11–12), as does the ancient Mokṣadharma section of the Mahābhārata epic (196.21–22).
God too has a divine bodily form, or more precisely, being unlimited, has unlimited divine forms, and these inhabit divine abodes, also unlimited—the realms within Brahman we have touched upon called Vaikuṇṭha. These forms and realms are made not of prakṛti stuff—the three guṇa qualities we will discuss in the next section—but of Brahman stuff, pure consciousness—sat-cit-ānanda. There is no inert matter there (in fact, this realm of nonconscious prakṛti can be seen as something of a dull and imperfect reflection of those Brahman realms). Vaikuṇṭha, to borrow Abrahamic language, is the Kingdom of God. So the liberated ātman attains Brahman, but not the impersonal, formless, qualityless Brahman devoid of active experiences as attained in the ekatvam state. Just as the ātmans receive prakṛti minds, forms, relationships, and situations in this realm of saṁsāra that reflect their guṇas and karma, they receive Brahman minds, forms, relationships, and situations in the Vaikuṇṭha realm that reflect the nature of their bhakti (their rāgas, bhāvas, and so forth). With these, they engage in a loving relationship with one of the unlimited divine forms of Īśvara corresponding to their preference. This is not anthropomorphism, but theopomorphism (we have noted that Vaiṣṇavas would intuitively resonate with the Abrahamic idea of man being made in the image of God). Embodied beings as effects have forms, qualities, and activities because their cause has form, qualities, and activities (to an unlimited degree). So in Vaikuṇṭha the very realms themselves, as well as the forms of Iśvara and of the bhaktas that abide there, are made of pure, eternal, blissful consciousness (sa-guṇa Brahman). These forms are inconceivable: they cannot be fathomed or conceived of by the rational mind or intellect, which is limited to the spatial, temporal, and physical conditions of prakṛti.
Some of these relationships were discussed in rāgānugā bhakti, but for our present purposes, the four other liberations listed in this verse in addition to the impersonal one of ekatvam, include sālokya, residing in the same abode as Viṣṇu (that is, residing in Vaikuṇṭha, the divine realm); sārṣṭi, having the same opulence as Viṣṇu (omnipotency);33 sāmīpya, being close to Viṣṇu (a closer and more intimate physical proximity than that of sālokya); and sārūpya, having the same form as Viṣṇu.34 In other words, the liberation offered by Yoga, Sāṅkhya, advaita Vedānta, and other schools is of no ultimate interest to the Bhāgavata tradition not because these are not genuine experiential states, which the text certainly asserts that they are, but because these available options do not allow for the possibility of an eternal personal relationship with Īśvara. And it is this desire for eternal relationship in devotion and service that characterizes true bhakti in Vaiṣṇavism. Indeed, Jīva and Rūpa note here that in addition to their disinterest in merging into impersonal Brahman (ekatvam), even one of the personal types of liberation—having the same opulence as Viṣṇu (sārṣṭi)—is unacceptable, as both of these are not suitable for service; the others may be accepted if they enhance one’s service.35
Also, from an ontological point of view, while the Bhāgavata describes the experience of the fifth type of liberation, ekatvam (also known as sāyūjya), in the same way as the other jñāna and Yoga traditions, its metaphysical understanding of the state partly differs. In his Prīti Sandarbha (anu 15), Jīva states that it can indeed denote realizing one’s own ātman as a part of the infinitely omnipresent Brahman,36 more or less as proposed by the other schools (brahma-sāyūjya), but it can also denote merging into Kṛṣṇa’s actual body and relishing the bliss of this (Bhagavat-sāyūjya).37 Furthermore, even with regard to the first option, Brahman is considered the effulgence of Īśvara rather than an independent essence, like the light of the sun, which, even though it can be experienced in its own right, is nonetheless always emanational from the sun itself. Jīva is not partial to either option, as each eliminates the possibility of love being expressed through service. But he nonetheless accepts their realities.
And there are numerous other possible liberated states in the bhakti universe. We can very briefly refer to Kaśmir Śaivism, for example, which occupies an interesting place somewhere between advaita Vedānta, further discussed in the next section, and Vaiṣṇavism. It holds the world as well as Śiva’s form to be eternally real (and vigorously opposes advaita Vedānta, which considers the world illusory on this score) but shares the latter’s monism with regard to the illusoriness of the individual ātman. The liberated ātman, in this and related traditions, becomes one with Śiva (hence the mantra Śivo ’ham, “I am Śiva”). From this vantage point it need not reject the world of prakṛti, which in Kaśmir Śaivism is ultimately not matter but pure emanational consciousness, citi-śakti, and enjoy it as Śiva enjoying an expression of Himself. However, unlike in Vaiṣṇavism, the actual form of Śiva is not the ultimate expression of Truth, which, as parama-Śiva, is ultimately considered impersonal: Īśvara’s form in these Śākta systems is secondary and derivative. But it is nonetheless real and decidedly not illusory.
A different stream of Śiva-centered tradition, Śaiva Siddhānta, in contrast, does hold the ātman to be eternally individual and also that it attains a form of liberation that parallels the Vaiṣṇava sārūpya—here attaining a divine form similar to Īśvara’s rather than merging into Him as with Kaśmir Śaivism—but a form of Īśvara as Śiva. Liberation therefore entails a union between the liberated soul and a distinct God—a loving union between two individuals; this Śaivite school is not monistic like Kaśmir Śaivism.38 So in Śaiva Siddhānta there are unlimited Śivas, even as only one is the preeminent Īśvara who can create universes, where in Kaśmir Śaivism there is only one Śiva and all souls merge (or realize their oneness) with Him. The Śaiva Siddhānta preference for a relationship of love between a Godhead and the liberated ātman in a unity of two distinct individuals is closer to the type of liberation of interest to Jīva’s school than the enlightened enjoyment of prakṛti in the monistic oneness of Kaśmir Śaivism, even as both types are accepted as true options. So the Śaiva Siddhānta’s closest parallel in Vaiṣṇavism is the fourth from the five types of liberation (sārūpya), where Kaśmir Śaivism is closer to the fifth, ekatvam (sāyūjya).
In either case, from the Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇava perspective, Śiva abides in his own transcendent (trans-prakṛti) abode, which is a parallel to Viṣṇu’s Vaikuṇṭha, where those devoted to him blissfully reside eternally in his company. And this abode and its residents are eternal and not derivative or a secondary manifestation of a higher transpersonal Truth. Thus, in the Bṛhad Bhāgavatāmṛta, a transcendental travelogue written by Sanātana, another of the six Gosvāmīs, Jīva’s other uncle (and brother of Rūpa):
Maheśa (Śiva), who increases love (bhāva) is non-different from beautiful Madana-Gopala [Kṛṣṇa].… In his eternal form, Bhagavān Śiva lives in his abode (loka). Eternally manifest, he is always visible to his exclusively dedicated devotees, who accept Him as their personal iṣṭa-devatā,39 and are content to live there. He is non-different from Viṣṇu. (II.3.62–65)40
In the next section, we will lay great stress on the essential oneness of these two forms of Īśvara, Viṣṇu and Śiva (as of the various forms of Īśvarī), despite devotional partialities.
And we can here do no more than rather superficially mention that the options continue to expand when one considers the galaxy of Devī (Goddess) traditions and the liberated states offered in those.41 Add to this that all of these traditions have seemingly never-ending subtraditions and variants, and we are faced with many different possible types of liberation being offered through bhakti. Irrespective of the sectarian debates between the various Vedānta and Purāṇa scholastic traditions, the Bhāgavata’s acceptance of five primary types of liberation, and its acknowledgment of other Śiva-associated forms of liberation, opens the door to a heterogeneous and, in principle, unlimited array of liberated possibilities reflecting the free will and partialities of the living entities. This might be expected if the Absolute is to be deemed unlimited and all-inclusive.
The possible contribution all this makes to the study of religion will be touched upon in our “Concluding Reflections,” but we can note for now that the Bhāgavata questions the presupposition that the ultimate, perfected liberated state, if there is one, must be monolithic or one-size-fits-all, an assumption typically made by both believers and nonbelievers of a postmortem perfected existence. This assumption is not supported by the Bhāgavata. The contribution it makes to the problem of accounting for the apparent variegation of the ultimate perfected state posited by the different religions of the world is that it opens the door that all, or certainly far more than one claim, could be simultaneously correct. Experientially and ontologically true in accordance with (at least many of) the categories and conditions expressed by the religions themselves, not true in some sort of an accommodating, “politically correct,” or metaphoric sort of way. The Bhāgavata offers us five “standard” types of liberation (which include monotheistic and monistic possibilities) and contains a multidimensional view of reality that does not preclude unlimited other possibilities, include Śaivite- and Devī-related states of liberation. This is not unique to the Bhāgavata: we have noted that the Vedānta Sūtras also allows for the possibilities of a liberated state either with form or without, as does the Mahābhārata’s Mokṣadharma.
And, of course, within prakṛti, and prior to attaining the ultimate state, similar variegation is expressed in Patañjali’s seven levels of transrational samādhi states (only the final state, that of nirbīja, is full liberation from all involvement with prakṛti) and with the options expressed in the Gītā.42 And while not transcendent destinations, when we factor in various other cosmological dimensionalities within prakṛti—the multiple (unlimited) universes emanating from Viṣṇu and the various progressively subtler celestial realms within each one—the postmortem possibilities of a progressive nature are very variegated. Granted there is hierarchy among all these transcendent states, but the Absolute, being infinite and unlimited, must be unlimitedly diverse and multifaceted for the Bhāgavata.
But hierarchies are important to those entrusted to preserve and perpetuate specific bhakti lineages by bringing them into dialogue with the intellectual currents of their day. And so it is to the theological and philosophical understanding of Īśvara in sect-specific contexts that we must next turn our attention. In order to complete our analysis of bhakti yoga as a relationship expressed through various practices and mind-sets between a bhakta and a form of Īśvara, we must now engage a long overdue topic: an analysis of some of the ways Īśvara as object of bhakti has been construed in some important Hindu theologies.