Heramba Nath
(herambanath2222@gmail.com)
On 14 September, millions of devotees across India and the world celebrate Janmashtami, marking the divine birth of Lord Krishna. Among the countless festivals that have grown from the deep soil of Indian civilization, Janmashtami stands apart as an observance that is at once joyful and profoundly contemplative. It is not only a religious festival commemorating the birth of Lord Krishna but also a cultural bridge across generations, a philosophical meditation on the relationship between the human and the divine, and a timeless call for moral balance in a world perpetually tilting between righteousness and unrighteousness. When the eighth incarnation of Lord Vishnu descended into the human realm in the form of Krishna, it was not an isolated miracle but a reminder of the cosmic rhythm of dharma, of the eternal truth that light emerges precisely at the darkest hour. Janmashtami, therefore, is not just an occasion on the calendar but a recurring invitation to reconnect with eternal values, to awaken inner divinity, and to harmonise individual life with the greater cosmic order.
The story of Krishna's birth in Mathura is both moving and symbolic. It was the midnight hour, the city oppressed under the cruelty of King Kansa, and the hearts of Devaki and Vasudeva heavy with both grief and faith. Bound in prison, they awaited the birth of their child, who, by prophecy, was destined to be Kansa's destroyer and the liberator of the people. It is significant that Krishna appeared not in a palace of splendour but in a dark prison cell, not amidst celebrations of worldly royalty but in the silence of confinement. His birth was marked by divine interventions-the chains fell away, the guards fell asleep, and the prison doors opened to allow Vasudeva to carry the infant across the Yamuna. Even the river, swollen and wild, parted to make way for the divine child. The narrative is not merely a miracle tale but an allegory of hope. It shows that when darkness reaches its extreme, a light appears. When cruelty dominates, compassion is born. When fear overwhelms, courage manifests.
This symbolic midnight birth is a profound metaphor for the human condition. Each individual carries within the weight of a personal Kansa-ego, anger, greed, arrogance, jealousy, and ignorance-that enslaves the mind and imprisons the soul. The prison in which Krishna is born is the limited realm of worldly attachments and delusions. The chains that bind Devaki and Vasudeva represent our own fears and insecurities. Yet when faith and sincerity awaken, divinity is born within, and the prison is opened. Thus, Janmashtami is not only about remembering a divine event that took place thousands of years ago but also about recognising a recurring birth that must happen in every heart that seeks liberation. The celebration of Krishna's nativity is therefore simultaneously a personal inner journey.
Krishna's life is a grand tapestry woven with multiple roles and paradoxes. As a child stealing butter, he symbolises the innocence and playfulness of divinity. As the flute player surrounded by Radha and the Gopis, he embodies divine love that transcends human desire and becomes the fragrance of pure devotion. As the slayer of demons, he represents the courage to annihilate inner evils. As the charioteer and philosopher of Arjuna, he becomes the voice of eternal wisdom, guiding humanity towards balance between action and detachment, duty and surrender, and individual identity and universal spirit. His life cannot be confined to a single role or definition. He plays, yet he teaches. He flirts, yet he liberates. He fights, yet he forgives. It is this paradoxical harmony of the mundane and the divine that makes Krishna eternally attractive and deeply relevant.
The external celebrations of Janmashtami reflect these many dimensions of Krishna's being. Across India and in many parts of the world where the Indian diaspora lives, temples are decorated with flowers, lights, and tableaux of Krishna's life. Devotees observe fasts, sing bhajans, chant verses from the Bhagavad Gita and Bhagavata Purana, and enact dramatic plays called Rasleela that bring to life Krishna's playful and divine episodes. At midnight, the exact moment believed to mark his birth, temples resound with bells, conch shells, and ecstatic chants as devotees welcome the child Krishna into their midst. The idols of the infant are bathed in milk, honey, and ghee, then dressed in silks and adorned with jewels. These rituals are not mere acts of tradition but symbolic reminders of cleansing the soul, adorning the heart, and offering oneself wholly to divine love.
One of the most vibrant traditions linked to Janmashtami is the Dahi Handi festival, particularly in Maharashtra and parts of Gujarat. Here, young men and women form towering human pyramids to reach and break an earthen pot of curd, butter, or milk hung high above the ground. The act recalls Krishna's childhood pranks of stealing butter, which earned him the affectionate name Makhan Chor. Beyond entertainment, the event carries a deeper message. The pyramid embodies teamwork, trust, and cooperation. Each layer depends on the strength of the one below, just as society depends on collective solidarity. The boy at the top, stretching towards the pot, represents the soul striving for higher truths, showing that only through unity and persistence can lofty goals be achieved. The cheers of the crowd, the music, and the festive spirit transform this act into a metaphor for spiritual aspiration through social togetherness.
But beyond the joy of festivities lies the heart of Janmashtami-Krishna's teachings in the Bhagavad Gita. Delivered in the midst of the Kurukshetra battlefield to a paralysed and confused Arjuna, the Gita transcends its immediate context to become a timeless philosophical guide. Krishna speaks of the impermanence of the body, the immortality of the soul, the necessity of performing one's duty without attachment to the results, and the ultimate importance of devotion, knowledge, and surrender. These teachings resonate across cultures and generations. Mahatma Gandhi described the Gita as his spiritual reference book. Thinkers like Aldous Huxley and philosophers from East and West have drawn wisdom from its verses. In moments of despair, it offers solace; in times of doubt, it provides clarity; in the face of moral dilemmas, it gives direction.
The contemporary relevance of Janmashtami lies precisely here. In a modern world increasingly fractured by materialism, violence, ecological exploitation, and social disharmony, Krishna's message offers an alternative vision. His flute, silent yet melodious, reminds us of the need to live in harmony with existence. His blue complexion symbolizes the infiniteness of the sky and the ocean, reminding us that divinity is boundless. His peacock feather carries the lesson of beauty, elegance, and mysticism. Each aspect of his portrayal is a symbolic teaching that guides the human mind from the gross material plane to the subtle spiritual realm.
Janmashtami also acts as a social glue. It unites people across caste, creed, class, and language. Children listen to stories of Krishna narrated by grandparents; youth participate in community decorations and processions; elders engage in kirtans and discourses. Villages and cities alike are illuminated with lights and joy. It becomes a festival of inclusiveness, one that bridges the rural and the urban, the traditional and the modern, and the devotional past and the progressive present. In an era of increasing fragmentation and alienation, this collective participation creates much-needed bonds of solidarity, belonging, and continuity.
Yet the deeper call of Janmashtami is introspective. To celebrate Krishna's birth outwardly without nurturing his values inwardly would be incomplete. The real celebration lies in embodying his teachings-cultivating compassion, service, equanimity, and truth. It means respecting parents and elders, nurturing peaceful relationships with relatives and neighbours, living in harmony with nature, engaging in meaningful social and cultural activities, and dedicating oneself to the service of humanity. When such values are lived, Janmashtami becomes not just a festival but a way of life.
The paradoxical play of Krishna-his Leela-is itself a teaching. Life, too, is a Leela, a divine play where sorrow and joy, duty and desire, struggle and liberation are all intertwined. To recognise this is to transform one's perspective: every challenge becomes an opportunity for growth, every relationship a space for love, and every action a step towards liberation. In this sense, Janmashtami is not about a historical commemoration but about a spiritual orientation. It teaches us to see the sacred in the ordinary, the eternal in the transient, and the divine in the human.
The message becomes even more urgent when we reflect on the state of the world today. Violence, wars, ecological crises, and moral confusions dominate global headlines. Societies are increasingly divided along political, cultural, and religious lines. In such a context, Krishna's declaration in the Gita acquires fresh resonance: "Whenever there is a decline in righteousness and an increase in unrighteousness, I manifest Myself." Perhaps the manifestation needed today is not an external avatar but an inner awakening of Krishna within each human heart. When individuals awaken to love, truth, compassion, and dharma, the collective world also transforms.
Thus, Janmashtami is both a personal and collective call. It invites us to light a lamp within the darkness of our own hearts and to let that lamp contribute to the greater light of the world. It is a reminder that Krishna is not only to be found in temples and scriptures but in the very act of living with awareness, kindness, and devotion. The prison doors that opened for Vasudeva can open for each of us if we allow faith and purity to guide us. The river Yamuna that parted for Krishna can also part the currents of confusion in our minds if we learn to surrender. The butter that Krishna loved is the sweetness of our own hearts, and the flute he played is the silent music of our soul.
In celebrating Janmashtami, therefore, we do not merely remember a divine birth in Mathura thousands of years ago. We participate in a cosmic event that repeats itself whenever righteousness is threatened, whenever darkness seeks to overpower light, and whenever the human spirit feels confined. It is a celebration of birth, not only of Krishna, but of hope, love, and harmony in every generation. The midnight bells, the chants, the Rasleelas, and the Dahi Handi are not just festivities but symbolic enactments of truths that go beyond time.
Janmashtami, at its deepest, is a call to rediscover ourselves in Krishna. To live with joy yet with wisdom, to love without selfishness, to fight against injustice without hatred, to surrender without fear. If these values guide human life, then Krishna is not merely a figure of mythology but a living presence, born again and again in the consciousness of humankind. In this sense, Janmashtami is not a festival that ends with the dawn after midnight rituals but one that continues in every action, every thought, and every aspiration that seeks harmony between the human and the divine.