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Krishna on the Beach

Harsha Prabhu wanders on a beach in Goa and stumbles upon the God of Love

Arambol, Goa, August 2019

The Photoshoot

It was the weekend of the global protest against the destruction and burning of the forests in the Amazon basin, aided and abetted by the Brazilian government.

A few of us decided to hold a pop up demonstration at Arambol beach against this act of environmental vandalism that threatened the livelihood of the indigenous people of Brazil - and 20% of the world’s oxygen supply. The demo would be in the form of a photo shoot, with people holding placards that spelt: SOS Amazon! We needed a quorum of 12 people to hold the placards. Seemed easy enough.

But it wasn’t. It took us a full hour of hustling on the beach to get the magic 12. Many we asked begged off for one reason or another: they did not understand what I said (Russian tourists); they were waiting for someone; they had to be somewhere else; they had to discuss it with their group before agreeing to participate. Some of these procrastinators were clearly entitled, middle class Indian tourists from major metros, visiting Goa as part of a package tour, sporting t-shirts with the tour logo. Somehow, we managed to find 12 souls willing and able to be a part of the the visual petition against the Amazon destruction.

After the photoshoot I wandered along the beach. Then I heard the sound of bells. Turning, I saw a group of men striding down the beach. One of them was carrying something on his head; the others were playing zills and chanting “Radhe Krishna ki jai!” (Hail Radha and Krishna).

The man who was carrying an idol of Krishna - Bal Krishna, Krishna as a child - placed it on the beach. His companions dug holes in the sand and placed incense sticks, to light which they borrowed my lighter. Slowly, people gathered around the idol; bits of camphor were burnt as offerings; prayers offered.

There was a large group of young boys who were playing in the sand nearby. Ever the opportunist for a photo grab, I went up to them and, addressing the biggest boy, asked: “Have you heard of the burning of the forests in the Amazon in Brazil?” “Yes” , he replied “ I saw it on the news.” “Would you like to help us stop it?” I asked him. “How?” he asked. “Simple. Just join with your friends in holding these placards,” I replied, “ I’ll take a photo and send it to the Brazilian government.”

“Yes, yes,” he shouted and turned to explain to the rest of his friends what was proposed. Before I could say ‘Krishna’ I had 12 eager and willing young participants in the photoshoot. In an attempt to get them all in the frame I almost stumbled onto the Bal Krishna image on the sand.

Krishna Lila

It was only then that I realised the young boys where part of a group that had come to participate in the Krishna ritual on the beach. In my mind’s eye, I saw them as the gopas (cow-herders) of Vrindavan, Krishna’s accomplices in his childish pranks, which, to the devotee, is an expression of the God’s ‘Lila,’, life as play.

And play they did, that evening on the beach, first the young boys, then the older youth and some men joining in. Games of tag, of skill and strength and guile. Then they attempted to smash the ‘Dahi Hundi’, the pot of yogurt - an object of mischievous fascination for Bal Krishna, called ‘Maakhan chor’, the butter-thief - held tantalizingly out of reach by a man wielding a rope and pully. Both groups of young boys and older youth managed to smash the Hundi, splattering themselves and those nearby with yogurt.

Where were the gopis (milk-maids) in all this play? Some stood by watching, like the ladies from Rajasthan, looking, with their aquiline features, nose rings and veils, like they had stepped out of a Kishangarh miniature, the 18th-century school of painting from Rājasthan, celebrating Krishna as a lover. Other gopis, possibly tourists from interstate or overseas, cavorted in the sea, holding hands in the water, playing their water games, framed by the setting sun.

Then it was time for more prayers and - as the sun set and the horizon turned maroon - time for the ‘Visarjan,’ the ritual immersion of the Krishna idols - the Bal Krishna being joined by a Krishna playing the flute - in the sea.

Who is Krishna?

Yesterday was Gokulashtami , the birthday of Krishna. Today is Visarjan. Who is Krishna, this God who was born yesterday and is committed to the waters the very next day?

Who is Krishna? This question bedevilled Arjun, the hero of the Mahabharata war, contemplating the field of battle. Is he my charioteer? My devoted friend and wise councillor? Or is he a God whose true face I dare not see?

There are many Krishnas; you can pick and choose.

There’s the culture hero of the Ahir, a tribe of pastoralists found in north and western India. The Ahirs are mentioned in the Mahabharata and some Ahir claim descent from the Yadava clan of Krishna.

There’s Bal Krishna, the baby Krishna, whose exploits form the material of songs mother’s sing to their children, whose devotion parallels the cult of baby Jesus.

There’s Krishna the lover, flirting shamelessly with the gopis of Vrindavan, all the while knowing his heart is with Radha, another man’s wife, in an erotic wheel-within-wheel of transgression, celebrated in much Indian song, dance and art.

There’s the Krishna of the Bhagvad Gita, Arjun’s initiator into the terrifying mysteries of cosmic time, including the need to do one’s caste-defined, destiny-propelled duty, regardless of the consequences (nishkamakarma).

This was the Krishna that troubled M K Gandhi, possibly the greatest Vaishnav (Krishna devotee) of them all in recent times. The arguments in the Geeta rationalising violence, no doubt the work of Brahmins versed in the arts of sophistry in defence of the status quo, stuck in Gandhi’s throat. Gandhi would have agreed with D D Kosambi, polymath and Marxist historian, who said: ‘This slippery opportunism characterizes the whole book. Naturally, it is not surprising to find so many Gita lovers imbued therewith. Once it is admitted that material reality is gross illusion, the rest follows quite simply; the world of "doublethink" is the only one that matters.’

Bhakti

There’s the Krishna of the Bhakti saints, the social movement that was anti-caste, that talked up love for one’s fellow human as the highest goal.

The Bhakti saints came from all castes. Nammalvar was a peasant. Namdev was a tailor. Gora was a potter. Cokha Mela was Dalit. So was Ravidas, guru of Mirabai and contemporary of Guru Nanak. Jyaneshwar, who introduced the Gita to Marathi-speakers, committed ritual suicide. Tukaram, the greatest Marathi Bhakti poet of them all, was a peasant, who ran afoul of Brahmins, and is supposed to have drowned himself in the river Tungabhadra. There’s more than a hint that he was murdered by caste Hindus. Luckily, his abhangas (poems) survived…

What made Bhakti so radical?

Here is Chandidas, the 15th century Bengali poet:

"Shobar upor manush shotto tahar upore nai,” (“Above all is humanity, none else”).

Or Kabir, possibly the greatest of India’s many poet-saints, also from the 15th century, and a Muslim to boot, though not a practicing one by the looks of it. He wrote in the vernacular and, even to this day, his poems explode in the face, like existential firecrackers.

Saints I see the world is mad.

 If I tell the truth they rush to beat me,

 if I lie they trust me. — Kabir, Shabad 4, Translated by Linda Hess and Shukdeo Singh

Or this:

Saints I've seen both ways. 

Hindus and Muslims don't want discipline, they want tasty food. 

The Hindu keeps the eleventh-day fast, eating chestnuts and milk. 

He curbs his grain but not his brain, and breaks his fast with meat. 

The Turk [Muslim] prays daily, fasts once a year, and crows "God!, God!" like a cock. 

What heaven is reserved for people who kill chickens in the dark?… 

— Kabir, Śabda 10, Translated by Linda Hess and Shukdeo Singh

Or this one:

If God be within the mosque, then to whom does this world belong?

 If Ram be within the image which you find upon your pilgrimage, then who is there to know what happens without?… 

— Kabir, III.2, Translated by Rabindranath Tagore and Evelyn Underhill

Interestingly, Kabir ran afoul of both Muslims and Hindus during his lifetime. It is said that, upon his death, both sets of believers fought over his corpse. When they lifted his shroud, all they found were flowers.

Knowing the pain of others

Here is Narsi Mehta, the 15th century Gujarat poet-saint, with a song that was a favourite of M K Gandhi:

Vaishnav jan to tene kahiye je/ Peed paraayi jaane re /Par-dukhkhe upkaar kare toye /Man abhimaan na aane re

Only he is a true Vaishnav Who knows the pain of others Does good to others without letting pride enter his mind.

Indian PM Modi also claims to love ‘Vaishnava jan to.’ He launched a version of the song in October 2018, sung by artists from 40 different countries, as the start of the year-long celebration of the 150th birth anniversary of Gandhi.

Does Modi know the pain of others?

This was his reply to a Reuters journalist in 2013, when asked what he felt about the communal carnage in Gujarat that lead to over a thousand deaths, mainly, but not only, Muslims, and the displacement of many more while he was CM in 2002: “If someone else is driving a car and we’re sitting behind, even then if a puppy comes under the wheel, will it be painful or not? Of course it is.”

Does Modi know the pain his policies, including demonetisation and high GST rates, have caused his people? The pain of all those who have lost their jobs due to an economy in shambles, largely due to the wreaking-ball of his government’s own policies? Does he know the pain of the farmers who commit suicide due to failing crops, drought and the inability to pay back loans? Or the pain of all the human rights defenders and tribals who languish in jail on trumped up charges? And what about the pain of the Kashmiri people?

What about the pain of Gandhians? The fact is that M K Gandhi himself was assassinated by a Hindu ring wing terrorist, a member of the Hindu Mahasabha, an off-shoot of the RSS, the very organisation that Modi belongs to.

What about the pain of all those people - mostly Muslim, Dalit or Christians - who have been lynched in India by mobs yelling “Jai Shree Ram”?

In July this year, eminent writers, filmmakers and intellectuals wrote an open letter to PM Modi, beseeching him to act, saying: "It is shocking that so much violence should be perpetrated in the name of religion! These are not the Middle Ages! The name of Ram is sacred to many in the majority community of India. As the highest Executive of this country, you must put a stop to the name of Ram being defiled in this manner.”

Modi has yet to respond to the letter.

Clearly, when it comes to knowing the pain of others, Modi has a lot of catching up to do.

Krishna the Redeemer

The Krishna story should make all tyrants everywhere worried.

For Krishna is also the redeemer. He comes to deliver the people of Dwarka from the rule of the evil tyrant Kamsa. Indeed, all tyrants dream of everlasting rule, but Kamsa himself hears a voice that tells him his end is near. This sets into play the whole Krishna myth, of the child abandoned by the palace, like Moses was among the bullrushes, a foundling fostered by another family, who grows up to avenge wrongs and claim his rightful throne.

According to Joseph Campbell: ‘The work of the incarnation is to refute by his presence the pretentious of the tyrant ogre.’

Further, Krishna, as the God of Love, refuses to allow himself to be weaponised by the armies of the Hindu Right, as opposed to the fate of poor Ram, where “Jai Shree Ram” has become a rallying cry of the lynch mobs.

Ironically, the actual form of greeting in parts of North India is “Jai Sia-Ram”; ‘Sia’ being a short form for ‘Sita’. But there’s no use for Sita, the Goddess of the Earth and Ram’s wife, in the hyper masculine world of Hindutva politics. The Goddess - and women - are the first casualties in Hindutva’s Raas Lila (sacred dance, dedicated to Radha-Krishna), where rape is a political tool to terrorise and subjugate people, sanctioned by V D Savarkar, the father of Hindutva ideology.

For Krishna devotees, Krishna is nothing without Radha; therefore it’s always “Jai Radhe-Krishna.” Behind Krishna stands the Mother Goddess. Vrindavan, the scene of the Krishna idyll, is the sacred grove (vana) of the Goddess Vrinda, another name for the Tulasi (holy basil) tree. To this day, the marriage of Krishna to Tulasi is celebrated every year in Vrindavan as Tulasi Vivaha. And even in Goa, for my landlord, Pritesh, was married to three Tulasi trees before he got a wife. Thus does the Great Mother break through Hinduism’s patriarchal bonds.

And it’s not just Hindus who worship Krishna.

According to literary critic Kuldeep Kumar, writing in The Hindu: ‘Many Muslim poets, the most notable among them being Raskhan, wrote devotional poetry to celebrate the Krishna legend and to rejoice in his bhakti. Abdur Rahim Khan-e-Khana, who is known in Hindi literature simply as Rahim, wrote many Barwais, Dohas and Sorthas in praise of Krishna. For example, this couplet is worth reading.

Jihi Rahim man aapno keenho chandra chakor Nisi baasar laago rahai Krishna chandra kee or (The way chakor always looks at the moon, similarly my face is always towards Krishna’s face that is as beautiful as the moon is). ‘ Chakor is a kind of partridge.

Passion Play

The passion play I witnessed on the beach was part of an ancient story, of the birth and sacrifice of a God. Like the Greek hero, Achilles, Krishna dies when an arrow pierces his heel, betraying his tribal, pagan origins. The culture hero dies, but the energies of an archetype never die, but live on, forever green in the hearts of men and women.

Surely Krishna - the hero with a hundred faces - will come to the aide of his people, wherever they may be, on a beach, in a temple, in the factories, on the land, in the forest, the vana, his favourite playground - or at the next political or environmental protest.

In a time of human-induced climate chaos and species extinction, driven by corporate fascism’s dystopian republic of greed, ruled by the global police state, the Radha- Krishna myth - of the world as a garden of plenty, as a playground for the divine erotic impulse to manifest, of love as the highest form of worship - is a very compelling counter-image.

Another world is possible. Krishna tells us it is.

While lovers of radical equality and seekers of bliss rejoice, tyrants everywhere better beware. Even as we speak, Krishna is on his way to Dwarka…

Pics: Harsha Prabhu

A note on the photoshoot:

Amazon photoshoot, Arambol, Sat 24 Aug 2019

SOS AMAZON! SOS CLIMATE EMERGENCY! Arambol, Goa, India Sat 24 August 2019

Members of Extinction Rebellion Goa staged a pop up demonstration at Arambol beach in solidarity with the native people of Brazil’s Amazon basin, whose forests are being burnt by the Brazilian government to facilitate development projects, including roads and big dams, in an ecologically sensitive bio region.

The burning forests of the Amazon are also a matter of grave concern as they supply 20% of the world’s oxygen. These forests are characterised as the lungs of the planet, taking in carbon dioxide and breathing out oxygen.

In addition, this wanton destruction feeds into the cycle of human-induced climate change. With the accelerated melting of the Greenland ice field via global warming predicted to raise sea levels by a frightening 25 feet, coastal communities like Goa are at special risk of being inundated by such irresponsible actions.

Activists also pointed out that India’s environmental record too was a scandal, with the continued destruction of forests, especially in the Western Ghats, leading to flooding in several states, including Goa, Maharashtra, Karnataka and Kerala. In Mumbai, the Aarey Forest in the centre of the city, also earmarked for development, and coastal mangrove destruction, are causing environmental stress on one of the world’s mega cities, also subject to periodic flooding.

India ranks among the bottom five countries on the Environmental Performance Index for 2018, according to a biennial report by Yale and Columbia Universities and the World Economic Forum. India also has the dubious distinction of overtaking China and Russia as the world’s top sulpha dioxide polluter, according to a Greenpeace report released on 19 August 2019. Sulpha dioxide is a by-product of coal-based electricity generation. Fossil fuels are also the key culprits in the global warming feedback loop and the proliferation of plastic pollution world-wide, including on Goa’s beaches.

With extreme weather events - like drought followed by floods in India - the norm, activists worldwide are calling upon governments to address the climate emergency, stop the reliance on fossil fuels and rapidly move towards adopting sustainable solutions to meet world energy needs.

The Brazil solidarity action - which included Arambol youth and local and international visitors - was part of a global weekend of similar demonstrations to put pressure on world governments to act now before it’s too late!

Pic: Harsha Prabhu, Design:Camelia Oberoi

#SOSAmazonia #SaveOurForests #ClimateEmergency #extinctionrebellion #extinctionrebellionindia #extinctionrebelliongoa #arambol #goa #DeclareClimateEmergency #SaveAareyForest #SaveWesternGhats

#sosamazon #krishna #radharani #lila #gokulashtami #gopi #gopa #bhakti #photography #goa #arambol #climate emergency #species extinction #extinctionrebellion

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