Bhakti Vijnana Maharaj Monks Podcast 209 – Healing prayers – Chaitanya Charan

Host:
Maharaj, my humble obeisances. Thank you so much for joining us on the Monks Podcast. It’s been a long-cherished aspiration for me to have you here. The blend of analytical rigor and devotional depth that you bring to your talks and writings is something I have deeply appreciated.

Many devotees who find inspiration in my classes have also expressed how much they value the deep insights and thoughtful analysis in your presentations. The integration of head and heart that you embody is rare—it’s easy to veer to one extreme or the other, but you harmonize both beautifully.

So, I’m grateful not just for what you do, but for who you are. I feel very fortunate to have this opportunity to serve you today. I recently came to know about your book on healing prayers, and I thought we could explore the topic of prayer broadly, with a specific focus on this work.

Welcome once again, and thank you very much.

Maharaj:
I’m happy to be with you this evening—or whatever time of day it is for your listeners. And yes, I appreciate your talks as well. I’ve listened to some of them and read your book on reincarnation. So we already have mutual respect, even though this is our first personal interaction.

Thank you.

Regarding the title of my book—it’s called Healing Prayers. This book is a translation from Russian, and the original title in Russian more accurately captures the core idea. The English title conveys the essence to a fair extent, though it’s not a perfect match.

At the beginning of the book, I describe three types of prayers. I analyze them in the context of devotional development. The first type is called Samprārthanātmikā. The word prārthanā means prayer, and sam comes from Sanskrit samyak, meaning “completely” or “fully.” So, this type of prayer refers to a mood where we fully surrender to the Lord—with our thoughts, our speech, and our actions.

This idea of completeness is central to the book. In the Russian title, “healing” is linked to restoring our wholeness—our completeness. What happens through our karmic experiences is that we become divided. A part of us—the spiritual essence—wants to draw closer to God and reestablish our lost relationship with Him. But another part—our material side—pulls us in a different direction.

These pulls may come from sinful impressions or even just worldly attachments—not necessarily sinful, but still material. So we become fragmented. The Samprārthanātmikā prayer is meant to heal this fragmentation—to restore the completeness of our being. That’s what “healing” means in this context: to heal our inner division, to bring us back into wholeness.

That’s the central theme of the book. It resonates with many because we all feel that inner dissonance. There is something broken, something unsettled within us. Healing, in this sense, is the process of becoming spiritually whole again.

Host:
That’s such a beautiful theme. As you were speaking, I was reminded that the words healing and whole actually come from the same root in English. The old English word “hælan” means to make whole, cure, or restore to health. And whole itself refers to being entire, unbroken, or unhurt.

So yes, the idea behind healing is really restoring the wholesomeness of our being. To become whole again—that’s the underlying purpose.

Maharaj:
Exactly. And that’s the idea behind the title. It’s about offering the whole being to God. But, as you rightly noted, before we can offer the whole being, that being must become whole. It must become integrated.

That’s what Samprārthanātmikā is about—prayers of complete surrender. But surrendering completely is not easy when we ourselves are incomplete. We can only surrender the part that wants to surrender—while other parts resist. So first, we need to reassemble ourselves—to gather and reintegrate the divided parts. Only then can we sincerely surrender.

Host:
That’s a profound insight. In modern English, there’s an expression: “That person really has it together,” meaning they’re composed and integrated. That idea of inner “togetherness” or composure is valued.

Also, the word integrity reflects the same idea—inner coherence or unity. Integration is necessary for integrity. It reminds me of the Bhagavad-gītā verse (2.41): vyavasāyātmikā buddhir ekeha kurunandana—being one-pointed, undistracted by fragmentation.

Maharaj:
Yes, exactly. And that’s why integrity—inner unity—is so essential for authentic devotion. When we’re fragmented, it’s hard to focus or offer ourselves completely. Healing prayers aim to restore that inner coherence.

Host:
Now Maharaj, in the Indian context, the words “healing” and “prayer” often carry a different connotation. With concerns about religious conversions, prayer and healing are sometimes associated with marketing tactics—especially when there are claims of miraculous physical healing. This creates skepticism.

But the healing we’re talking about here is spiritual, not physical—right?

Maharaj:
Yes, absolutely. We are not referring to physical healing in the miraculous sense. Physical illness may result indirectly from the unwholesomeness of our being, and when we restore our inner balance, some physical healing may follow. But that’s not the aim.

The focus here is spiritual healing. I definitely do not intend to bring into our tradition the kind of miracle-based “healing ministries” we sometimes see elsewhere. I want to distance myself clearly from that sensationalism.

Host:
Thank you for clarifying that. That brings me to another common question. Most people, even devotees, tend to pray more when something goes wrong in their material life.

For example, I met a devotee in the UK. Her newborn child was very sick. She said, “I feel I should pray to Krishna. But is that a material prayer? Should I be praying for something spiritual instead?”

But that child’s health was what was foremost in her heart. If she didn’t take that to Krishna, wouldn’t that mean hiding her heart from Him?

I shared some thoughts, but I’d love to hear your perspective. I said that “material” is a broad category. Praying for the destruction of someone out of jealousy—that’s completely anti-devotional. Praying for wealth or fame is generally considered material too, especially if it becomes the goal.

However, praying for strength to fulfill one’s dharma—like caring for one’s child—is different. That’s aligned with our responsibilities. And if we can think of Krishna while doing it, that becomes pro-devotional. As Prabhupāda often said: “Somehow or other, fix the mind on Krishna.”

Maharaj:
I completely agree. That’s a well-balanced explanation.

Satva-guṇa is a necessary springboard toward śuddha-bhakti. And before reaching pure devotion, we must be situated in dharma. So, if our prayers are linked with our dharmic responsibilities and ultimately aimed at bringing us closer to God, then they are harmonious with bhakti.

Also, we must remember—we are human. We have emotions, we have desires. Life itself means having desires. Only a stone is desireless.

If we can dovetail our desires with our devotion—as Śrīla Prabhupāda taught—then even seemingly material desires can become part of our devotional life.

So, when someone’s child is sick, or they themselves are suffering, and they feel compelled to pray—it’s not wrong. As long as they retain the devotional mood, there’s nothing inappropriate.

And as Prabhupāda would often guide, we can always pray:
“If You so desire, my dear Lord..

Host:
So, the phrase “if You so desire” means that we place the Lord’s will above our own. Our desire is secondary—present, yes, but subordinated. If our desire aligns with the Lord’s will, if it’s harmonious with His plan, then the prayer is fine. And if not, we give the Lord complete freedom not to fulfill it, knowing that ultimately, He is in control.

In this way, our prayer doesn’t interfere with our understanding of our position as His servant. So, that’s another angle from which we can view this issue.

Essentially, we pray, “My dear Lord, if You so desire, please…” This is something important to me—something I can’t just dismiss. But still, “if You so desire” remains a vital part of that prayer.

Maharaj:
Yes, that phrase gives the prayer its devotional character. And as you said, it also gives the devotee breathing space. We can express our heartfelt concerns while staying anchored in spiritual alignment.

The essence of prayer is to invest the heart. What is the point of mechanically praying for “pure devotion” when it doesn’t yet resonate deeply within? If I’m only repeating words that don’t reflect my present reality, my prayer becomes hollow.

But if my heart is genuinely yearning for something—something meaningful—then connecting that desire to the path of bhakti allows me to pray sincerely. That sincerity brings life to the prayer.

Host:
That’s such a vital point. Prayer is the language of the heart—it’s where the human heart reaches out to the divine heart. If we pray for something that’s not in our heart at that moment, the prayer becomes superficial.

So Maharaj, moving forward, you chose to focus on the prayers of Queen Kunti in your book. Was there a particular reason for choosing those prayers? They are exalted, pure devotional prayers—some are at a very high level. But how do you see their relevance in terms of the emotional investment you just spoke about?

Maharaj:
Yes, I chose those prayers because I believe they’re deeply relevant—even today.

In fact, this book originated from a seminar I gave to an audience that had gone through traumatic events—specifically, in Ukraine. I won’t go into details, but the audience had experienced bewilderment, pain, and deep questioning: “Why is this happening to us? Why on such a scale?”

My seminar aimed to address their emotional state and to help them make sense of what they were feeling. Queen Kunti’s prayers resonated strongly because, though she prayed from a highly exalted state, she too went through profound difficulties.

Sometimes we think our life is hard. But then we see the lives of the great devotees—and realize they went through much worse. Yet they continued to pray, to serve, to persevere. That makes their prayers deeply relatable.

Host:
Yes, that makes sense. So even though their consciousness was higher, the emotions they expressed can be shared by us at our level. Would you be able to share a particular prayer that speaks to feelings like abandonment or bewilderment? Something that helps devotees connect the words of the prayer to their own emotions?

Maharaj:
Certainly. At the very beginning of her prayers, Queen Kunti is standing before Krishna, who is about to leave Hastinapur. She runs to Him and begins offering prayers. Though she is Krishna’s aunt—a close relative—she begins by saying, “I cannot understand You.”

Now, we don’t even see Krishna directly, and we may doubt our connection to Him. But for Kunti, there was no doubt—He was her nephew, her protector, her well-wisher. And still, she says, “I am bewildered. I don’t understand what You’re doing.”

And rightly so. Krishna saved Arjuna and saved Maharaja Parikshit, but He didn’t save Abhimanyu—Arjuna’s son and Kunti’s grandson. Nor did He protect Draupadi’s sons after the war was over.

Kunti stood before Krishna with tears in her eyes, expressing gratitude despite her confusion. She didn’t demand an explanation—she began praying. And as her prayers progressed, we see a transformation. She began with bewilderment but gradually moved toward clarity and deeper understanding.

So, in a way, her prayers are an example of how prayer itself can help us understand what’s happening in our lives. It may not change the situation externally, but it brings peace and understanding internally.

Host:
That’s a powerful point—that prayer is not just for solving a problem, but for understanding it. Often, people think prayer is a way to persuade God to do what we want. One devotee once told me, “I’m afraid to pray because if Krishna doesn’t answer, my faith might get shaken.”

But prayer, as one of the nine limbs of bhakti, is meant for connecting with Krishna—not manipulating Him. When we pray with that mood, we don’t always get the result we expected, but we get a sense of Krishna’s presence. And that presence itself gives us relief.

Maharaj:
Exactly. Most of the time, the external problem doesn’t get “solved” in the way we imagined. But the real problem is often the condition of our heart.

When prayer purifies the heart, the problem is resolved at a deeper level. We often think the issue is out there, in the world—but often, it’s in here, within us.

Host:
That’s so true. And regarding extending the scope of scriptural prayers, sometimes when we study a verse, we may not relate directly to its literal meaning. But we can still find ourselves reflected in its broader spirit.

For example, when Queen Kunti says, “I cannot understand You,” that can certainly be interpreted philosophically as Krishna’s inconceivable nature. But at a more emotional level, it reflects our own confusion: What is Krishna doing in my life? Why is this happening? That emotional connection makes the verse meaningful.

Maharaj:
Yes, exactly. That’s the point I’m making in the book. If we analyze Kunti’s prayers, we see that before she asks Krishna for anything, she spends a long time expressing her understanding of Him.

Only at the very end does she offer a personal petition—for restoring her inner wholeness. But even that is framed within her understanding of Krishna’s nature.

This is important. If we immediately start asking someone for something without showing that we understand or appreciate them, even if the request is granted, the relationship doesn’t deepen.

But when we express our understanding first, it becomes a respectful and intimate exchange. That’s what prayer really is—a relationship.

And when someone feels understood, they are more likely to give—more likely to reciprocate. That’s true even in our human relationships.

So before asking, Queen Kunti expresses her understanding. That makes her prayer both legitimate and satisfying—not just for her, but for Krishna.

Host:
That’s such an important insight. Many scriptural prayers in the Bhagavatam follow this pattern: a long, heartfelt invocation before any request is made. As you explained, that invocation is not mere formality—it’s an expression of understanding and alignment.

Only then comes the petition: “Within Your purpose, my Lord, here is what I feel I need.” That transforms the prayer from a demand into a dialogue.

Maharaj:
Yes, and that’s what gives the prayer its beauty and its power—not just asking for something, but first expressing, “My Lord, I understand You. I trust You. I know who You are.”

Only then do we say, “Now, if You so desire…”

Host:
Yeah. So this would actually be a fascinating exercise—to look at many of the prayers in the Bhagavatam from that perspective.

My understanding is that before offering a petition, these prayers often begin by glorifying the Lord. It reminds me of that common saying: “Don’t tell God how big your problems are—tell your problems how big God is.”

So, many of the prayers that speak about God’s greatness are really a way of reminding ourselves that God is bigger than our problems—and that He has dealt with far greater issues before.

In that sense, these prayers are not just personal reminders, which we could easily do mentally; but by verbalizing them in a prayerful mood, we demonstrate that we understand who the Lord is and what His mission is.

Maharaj:
Yes, it’s very important to restore our proper perspective before we start praying. The natural human tendency is to see reality through a distorted lens—where things that emotionally agitate us seem exaggerated, and things that are actually important may seem trivial.

So before offering prayers, we need to correct our vision and bring reality into proper focus. That’s precisely what Queen Kunti does. Again and again, she reminds herself—and by extension, all of us—what the true perspective is: who we are and who the Lord is.

That is the essence of proper prayer: aligning our perception with reality.

Host:
That’s interesting—Prabhupada writes in Chapter 10 of the Bhagavad-gita that “intelligence means to see things in proper perspective.” And here you’re explaining how one of the purposes of prayer is also to restore proper perspective.

Later in that chapter, Krishna says: “dadāmi buddhi-yogaṁ taṁ yenamām upayānti te”—that when one serves with love, Krishna gives the intelligence to approach Him. So in a way, prayer helps us begin by remembering God is bigger than the world. And as we continue praying, that understanding becomes more deeply embedded within us.

Maharaj:
Exactly. Beautifully said.

Host:
Continuing on this theme, we often talk about scriptural prayers and personal prayers. Sometimes, the prayers we compose ourselves—based on our immediate situation—feel more spontaneous and emotionally real.

So, how important are scriptural prayers in our tradition? And how much room is there for personal prayers?

Maharaj:
Actually, all prayers must be personal. There’s no such thing as an impersonal prayer.

Even if we’re repeating a prayer composed by someone else, it must become our own prayer. If it doesn’t become personal—if it doesn’t connect to our heart—it’s not really a prayer. It’s just a parrot-like repetition of someone else’s words.

So yes, scriptural prayers are very valuable because they teach us how to pray. There’s a certain etiquette, a mood, a structure. I speak about this in my book as well.

But even then, we must try to connect with the emotional condition of the one who originally offered the prayer. At least we should attempt to cultivate similar emotions, even if they’re not fully developed within us yet.

And once we understand what it means to pray properly, we can compose our own prayers—spontaneously and sincerely. But again, both types must be personal. Impersonal prayers have no spiritual value.

Host:
That’s a powerful insight. “Personal” can refer to both the source of the prayer and the emotional investment in it. You’re emphasizing that emotional investment is non-negotiable.

We see this in Srila Prabhupada’s own life. When he arrived in America, he composed a deeply moving prayer aboard the Jaladuta. That prayer gives us a glimpse into his heart in a way that much of his formal writing doesn’t always show so vividly.

So while we have the Sanskrit scriptural prayers and the Bengali Vaishnava songs, Prabhupada’s English prayers also stand out because they feel more emotionally relatable.

Would you say that the more recent vernacular-language prayers are more relatable mainly because of the language, or is there something about the text itself?

Maharaj:
Yes, you’re absolutely right. The language and cultural context both make a difference.

Recent prayers, written in modern or vernacular languages, are usually easier to relate to. That’s understandable—they reflect our cultural environment, our emotional vocabulary.

But that’s also the job of the commentator—to remove the barriers between us and the scriptural prayers: language barriers, cultural barriers, emotional barriers. It’s not just about the prayers—even understanding sacred texts in general can be difficult due to these differences in time, culture, and worldview.

But a good commentator bridges that gap by helping us see how a text is still relevant.

Of course, the original Sanskrit texts are far more profound. They carry deep, multidimensional meanings. So although they’re harder to access, the reward of understanding them is also far greater.

That’s why Srila Prabhupada was so meticulous. He translated every single word and wrote extensive purports. He was trying to remove the barriers.

But often we’re just lazy—we say, “I can’t relate to this.” But the reality is, we haven’t labored enough to uncover the depths of these texts.

And as you know from your own study of the Bhagavad-gita, when we go back to these texts again and again, new insights emerge. We see things we didn’t see before. It’s like a miracle—something we thought we already understood suddenly reveals a new layer.

That’s the nature of scripture, especially Sanskrit scripture.

Vernacular languages like Bengali, Hindi, or English are much less profound—they often convey just one layer of meaning. But a single Sanskrit word can carry so many dimensions. That’s why the labor is harder, but the reward is deeper.

Host:
Thank you, Maharaj. Two of your points stand out. First, when we talk about expanding the ambit of scripture—making scriptural prayers personal—we can do so legitimately as long as we remain rooted in the mood of the original.

And second, it’s the role of commentators to help us overcome obstacles to personalizing these prayers. Srila Prabhupada removed many obstacles for his generation. But today, we may face new challenges in relating to scripture.

So it becomes our responsibility to understand what blocks us—or others—from developing a personal connection with scripture, and then work to remove those blocks.

Otherwise, scripture becomes like a museum artifact—something we admire from a distance but don’t experience as living and relevant.

Maharaj:
Exactly. That’s a great analogy. You go to a museum and see some ancient artifact in a glass case. It’s old, it’s valuable, but it’s dusty, lifeless—and it doesn’t touch your heart.

Unfortunately, some translations of scripture by so-called “academic scholars” feel exactly like that—something that has no connection to your life.

That’s why the job of a commentator is to bring life into the words of scripture—by showing their relevance.

And that’s not a one-time task. It has to be done again and again as time passes and cultures change.

Scriptures live only in a commentarial tradition. Without commentaries, they become lifeless. That’s why commentaries must continue to be written—to make the eternal truths of scripture relevant for the current audience.

Host:
That’s such a profound point. Just as the spiritual master lives on through their followers and their words, the scriptures live on through living commentarial traditions.

So maybe one last question, Maharaj. When we speak of relevance, how do we know whether we are genuinely drawing out something from scripture—or whether we are reading into it something that isn’t there?

For example, there was a commentator who tried to present the Gita as a book promoting nonviolence. Now while the Gita does touch on nonviolence, that’s clearly not its central theme.

So what guidelines can help us avoid reading our own ideas into scripture?

Maharaj:
For that—we must pray.

The human tendency is to read our own ideas into the text. As Srila Prabhupada warned, many people exploit Krishna’s words to support their personal agendas.

Why? Because they want their ideas to be seen as authoritative. And since Krishna is the highest authority, they try to use Him to validate their own thinking.

But Krishna is not here to be exploited. He is here to enlighten us.

That’s why Srila Prabhupada emphasized: Bhagavad-gita As It Is. He insisted on preserving the original intent with integrity.

So yes, we must be cautious, humble, and prayerful—because without sincerity and surrender, it’s very easy to distort scripture, even with good intentions.

I don’t want to show off my own erudition or scholarship. I don’t want to impose my own ideas onto the scriptures. That’s a matter of integrity.

And to maintain that integrity, again, we need to pray. That’s actually the meaning behind the title of the book—Prayers That Restore Integrity—because they help us realign ourselves with truth, rather than project our biases onto it.

Otherwise, yes, the temptation is always there—to insert our own ideas into scripture, to put our words into Krishna’s mouth. But I don’t think Krishna will be very pleased with that.

After all, Krishna enjoys the sweets cooked by Mother Yashoda—not thoughts and words cooked in our own minds!

Host:
(laughs) That’s a beautiful image! Thank you, Maharaj. So through prayer, we can learn how to pray—and also how not to pray.

Would you like to offer any concluding words—about your book or the broader topic of prayer?

This has been an incredibly illuminating discussion for me personally, and I’m sure it will be for all the viewers as well. I feel deeply inspired to read your book. We’ll include the book’s details and purchase link in the video description too.

Maharaj:
Thank you. As I mentioned, the book was originally written in Russian—Russian is my mother tongue. I’m much more comfortable writing and expressing myself in Russian.

This is the first time the book has been translated into English, so I’m kind of holding my breath. I don’t know how it will be received—but I hope readers will approach it kindly.

I’ve received some positive reviews so far, which is encouraging. But more than that, I wrote this book because I felt very deeply that this is an important topic to reflect upon and explore further.

Of course, any topic in the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam is profound. But meditating on the prayers of Queen Kunti—thinking about them deeply—definitely enhanced my own understanding.

It also gave me a lot of positive emotions while writing. And I sincerely hope that a reflection, even a small echo of those emotions, will reach the readers.

If someone finds faults in the book, I fully accept that. I’m just… doing my best.

Host:
Maharaj, you’re being very humble! You mentioned only a few positive reviews—but almost everyone in our movement who has read the book has given glowing praise, and those endorsements are right on the cover!

I’m confident this book will illuminate many devotees’ hearts and help them connect more personally with Krishna.

Usually, at the end of the podcast, I try to summarize our discussion. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to do that now in a few minutes—and then, if you’d like, you can share any closing reflections.

Maharaj:
Yes, of course. Please go ahead.

Host:
Thank you, Maharaj.

So today we explored the topic of prayer, particularly its connection to healing and wholeness.

We began by recognizing that we often feel fragmented—scattered by our various desires and disconnected from our spiritual center. Healing, in the deepest sense, is becoming whole again. When we are whole, our existence becomes wholesome.

In Russian, the words for “healing” and “wholeness” are more closely related, but even in English, the connection is there at the root level.

Now, when we speak of healing prayers, we’re not necessarily talking about miraculous physical cures. Instead, we’re referring to spiritual healing—restoring our connection with Krishna.

Of course, if someone is facing serious problems, it’s their dharma to address those practically—that’s not incompatible with spiritual life. As you noted, we should conclude our prayers, as Prabhupada advised, with “If You so desire, my Lord…” That mood of surrender is crucial.

Rather than categorizing prayers strictly as “material” or “spiritual,” we can understand that any prayer becomes spiritual when it is connected with Krishna in the right mood.

You mentioned how this book was born out of addressing devotees who were desolate, disturbed, and disoriented—and how, even though Queen Kunti is personally with Krishna, she still feels she can’t fully understand Him.

That feeling of incomprehension, even in the presence of the divine, is something all of us can relate to when life feels overwhelming or confusing.

Prayer, then, is not just about getting Krishna to act according to our desires—but also about understanding what He is doing and why.

You explained how Vedic prayers often begin with long introductions—glorifying the Lord—before any request is made. This reminds Krishna (and us) that we are praying with awareness of who He is, not simply demanding things like a list of errands.

Otherwise, prayer becomes transactional: “Give me this, give me that.” That kind of interaction doesn’t bring us closer to the Lord.

But when our prayer demonstrates understanding of Krishna’s nature and mission, then the act of praying itself draws us nearer to Him.

We also discussed how to make prayers personal. You emphasized that if there’s no emotional investment, it’s not a real prayer—it’s just parroting.

Helping others (and ourselves) invest emotionally in prayer is the role of a commentator. You said Srila Prabhupada did this beautifully for us—and now we must continue that work for others.

In that way, scripture becomes personal for us, and our connection deepens.

Finally, we discussed the fine line between reading from the scripture versus reading into it. You emphasized that we must approach scripture with integrity of intent—not trying to impose our own agendas, but rather trying to understand Krishna’s message.

You said, “To maintain that integrity, we must pray.” That really stayed with me.

And in that spirit, your book—which started as a Russian manuscript and is now available in English—is not just a scholarly work. It’s a spiritual journey.

I’m personally looking forward to reading it—and I hope we’ll have more interactions in the future. This has been an extremely stimulating and illuminating discussion.

Thank you so much for your time, Maharaj.

Would you like to share any final words?

Maharaj:
Thank you very much, Chaitanya Prabhu, for inviting me.

Yes, it’s always a joy to speak about Krishna consciousness—especially with devotees who are thoughtful and sincere.

I really appreciated your questions. They were deep and honest—not just formal or academic. That made the discussion very enlivening for me.

So I’m feeling joyful and grateful in my heart. Thank you again for having me on your podcast. Hare Krishna.