How to Stay Krishna Conscious Amid Worldly Temptations
Let’s simplify this big idea by connecting something relatable—like cricket—with the Bhagavad Gita. But before we dive in, a quick question:
How many chapters are there in the Gita?
Right, 18.
And how many questions are asked in the Gita?
You might say 12—but it’s actually 17!

So let’s look at one of these questions from Chapter 10. We often recite it multiple times, but let’s do it once together now.

Here, Arjuna asks Krishna, “katham vidyam?”—“How can I know you?” Now, vidyam comes from vidya, which means knowledge—but here it’s used in the sense of “knowing” or “remembering.” Essentially, Arjuna is asking, “How can I always remember you?”

He adds, keshu keshu ca bhaveshu, “In which of your manifestations should I meditate upon you, O Yogin, while I’m in this material world?”

Now, this word yogi is fascinating. What does yogi normally mean?
Right—a practitioner of yoga.
But here, Arjuna calls Krishna a yogi.

Why? Because Krishna is Yogeshwar, the master of yoga. He’s not just asking us to connect with him; he’s also trying to connect with us. That’s the essence of a yogi—someone who seeks connection. So Arjuna is saying, “Krishna, you’re asking me to always remember you. Are you doing something to make it easier for me to remember you?”

The Play of Words

In Sanskrit—just like in English—words often have multiple meanings. Take the word run, for example.

  • “I’m going for a run.”

  • “The washing machine stopped running.”

  • “He’s running for office.”

  • “My car won’t run, so now I have to run.”

Same word—totally different meanings.
In English, run is said to have the most meanings—over 500.
But in Sanskrit, there are over 500 words that each have more than 500 meanings. That’s the depth of the language.

That’s also what makes Sanskrit rich, poetic, and multi-layered—but also sometimes ambiguous. You have to look at context.

For example, in the verse Arjuna recites, sati yogin, he calls Krishna “the yogi.” This points to a deeper truth: Yoga isn’t just us reaching for God—it’s also God reaching for us.

Arjuna’s Dilemma: Work or Renounce?

Let’s go back to Chapter 1. Arjuna faces two options:

  1. Fight (work)

  2. Renounce (go to the forest)

He thinks it’s an either/or. But Krishna tells him, “You don’t just have two options—you have four.”

  1. Attached work

  2. Detached work

  3. Artificial renunciation

  4. Real renunciation

Now, based on Gita’s teachings, which one does Krishna not recommend?
Yes—attached work and artificial renunciation.

So what’s Krishna’s recommendation?
Detached work—do your duty without being attached to the result.

In Chapter 5, Krishna says both renunciation and detached work are good—but detached work is better. Why? Because:

  • It allows Arjuna to do his duty

  • Helps establish dharma

  • Sets an example for society

How Do the Yogas Fit In?

Krishna outlines four main paths:

  • Karma Yoga (path of action)

  • Jnana Yoga (path of knowledge)

  • Dhyana Yoga (path of meditation)

  • Bhakti Yoga (path of devotion)

Now where does detached work fit?

Karma Yoga—absolutely. It’s about doing your work, offering the results for a higher cause.

But even in Bhakti Yoga, we work—but the fruits are offered not just to any higher cause, but the highest cause—Krishna. That’s why Bhakti is the topmost yoga.

It’s not about “our path is better than yours.” It’s about offering the results to the most selfless, all-loving being—Krishna. He’s not partial or political. He’s everyone’s well-wisher.

So Krishna appreciates all paths but clearly recommends Bhakti Yoga. The Gita is inclusive, but also conclusive.

Krishna’s Call to Action

In Chapter 8, verse 7, Krishna gives a powerful instruction:

tasmat sarveshu kaleshu mam anusmara yudhya ca
“Therefore, always think of Me and fight.”

Now that sounds like a contradiction, right?
How can I remember Krishna and fight at the same time?

Arjuna’s not chanting mantras on the battlefield. He’s not multitasking with his mind half on Krishna and half on shooting arrows. He’s fully absorbed in his duty—but his purpose is Krishna.

That’s the key:

  • Krishna consciousness doesn’t mean detachment from duty

  • It means detachment from selfish motives

Remembering Krishna—What Does That Mean?

Is remembrance of Krishna about memorizing facts and figures? No.
Even scholars may know Krishna’s history better than we do—but not have faith in him.

Real remembrance is to live with Krishna in mind.

  • To act as if our actions are an offering to him

  • To serve others with compassion, inspired by his teachings

  • To stay aligned with dharma, knowing Krishna is the witness

Where’s Cricket in All This?

Ah yes—cricket! You might wonder where that fits.

We’ll come to it. But first, we needed to understand the Gita’s game plan. Because just like cricket, life is a game full of challenges, temptations, and strategies. And just like a good cricketer keeps his eyes on the ball and his mind on the match, a devotee keeps their duty in hand and remembrance of Krishna in heart.

So, is it that remembrance means factual or conceptual knowledge? Conceptual remembrance might be when someone asks us a question—we don’t know the answer—so we ask someone else, and they explain it very nicely. We like the explanation and feel, “Yes, that makes sense.” But then, the next time someone asks us the same question, we might say, “I knew the answer… but I don’t remember it anymore.” That’s conceptual remembrance—we understood the concept once, but we’ve forgotten it.

Now, when Krishna talks about remembrance in the Bhagavad-gita, it’s not just conceptual or factual remembrance. Krishna is referring to personal remembrance—remembrance of him as a person and of our relationship with him.

Generally, when we love someone, we naturally remember them. This remembrance may include some practical details—for example, a mother may not know her child’s RBC count or platelet levels like a doctor would, but she loves her child far more than the doctor does. Her remembrance comes from love, not data.

So when we say remembrance of Krishna, it’s not just reciting his name. It’s not mechanical or superficial. Once, a devotee asked me, “If remembrance is all that matters, why not just enjoy material life to the fullest, and at the end, pull out a gun, point it to your head and say ‘Krishna’ just before dying? Wouldn’t that lead us to Krishna?” No—it doesn’t work that way. We can’t trick Krishna.

True remembrance indicates that Krishna is the foremost object of our love. That is why I emphasize personal remembrance. Normally, when we love someone, we remember them. But Krishna is so attractive that even remembrance of him awakens love. We are all eternally connected with Krishna. He is like a magnet, and we are like iron filings—but due to the rust of material contamination, we are not attracted to him.

Now, how do you remove rust? Normally, you clean the filings first, then bring them close to the magnet. But for us, the cleaning happens by coming close to Krishna. Remembrance, therefore, is not necessarily the fruit of love, but it can be the expression of a desire for love. We may not love Krishna purely yet, but we want to love him—and that’s why we strive to remember him.

This remembrance is not about trying to escape life either. Say, both parents are working and their child is at school. While at work, the parents might be focused on their tasks, but in the background, they’re thinking, “Has my child eaten lunch? Is the child on the bus? Who will pick them up?” Their child is present in their consciousness even if not always at the forefront.

Similarly, a businessman might be dealing with a difficult client. He may want to yell, but he thinks, “No, I’m doing this to earn a livelihood, to support my family. Let me stay polite.” His behavior is shaped by his purpose—even if it’s in the background.

This is purpose-driven remembrance. We don’t always need Krishna in the front of our minds, but the purpose of our actions—serving Krishna—should be there, even in the background. Human consciousness is capable of multi-layered awareness. A home inspector, for example, might be chatting casually with homeowners while also scanning for fire hazards, wiring issues, or safety concerns. It’s a trained, purposeful awareness.

When Krishna says “mam anusmara yudhya ca”—remember me and fight—it doesn’t mean split your consciousness. It means integrate it. Let the purpose of fighting be service to Krishna.

In Arjuna’s case, he is intensely focused on battle. But at the back of his mind, he remembers: “I am fighting for Krishna.” That remembrance shapes his action.

At the end of the Gita, Arjuna doesn’t say, “I’m a Kshatriya, so I’ll fight.” He says, “karishye vacanam tava”—I will do your will, Krishna. That is personal remembrance in action.

The more we love Krishna, the easier it becomes to remember him even while engaging in worldly activities. Just as parents working may see a toy and immediately think, “My child would love this!”—their love connects everything to the beloved. Likewise, a devotee connects everything with Krishna.

So, how do we reach that stage? By practicing two kinds of bhakti:

1. Immersive Bhakti

This is when we directly focus on Krishna—through chanting, studying scripture, deity worship, etc. For that time, we disconnect from the world and immerse ourselves in Krishna.

(And yes, this includes putting the phone down during aarti—no multitasking like waving a lamp with one hand and scrolling your feed with the other!)

2. Inclusive Bhakti

This is when we engage with the world—but with Krishna in our heart and purpose. It’s when our job, family care, and social duties are all offered as service to him.

Immersive bhakti transcends the world. Inclusive bhakti transforms it.

If Srila Prabhupada had remained immersed in bhakti only in Vrindavan, we wouldn’t be here discussing Krishna consciousness today. He stepped into the world—with health issues, financial strain, and cultural challenges—and transformed it, all while staying inwardly connected to Krishna.

Ideally, immersive bhakti strengthens our purpose, and inclusive bhakti expresses it. Without immersive bhakti, our inclusive bhakti can drift—we may start thinking we’re working for Krishna but actually just serving our ego or desires. We need both.

It’s like a medical student who learns intensively (immersive), then becomes a doctor and serves patients (inclusive). The more they help people, the more they want to deepen their knowledge. The two support each other.

For Arjuna, the battlefield is where he practices inclusive bhakti. He is already devoted, so his remembrance of Krishna supports his actions.

And now he is asking Krishna: “You’ve told me to always remember you. I’ll be in the middle of a battle—how can I do that?”

“Seeing Krishna in the Spotlight: How the World’s Attractions Point to the Divine”

Possible Structure:

1. The Challenge of Remembrance in the World

  • Arjuna’s dilemma: “How can I remember you while fighting?”

  • Our modern equivalent: How can I remember Krishna when I’m bombarded with entertainment, glamour, and temptations?

2. Krishna’s Solution – Vibhuti Yoga

  • Vibhuti = Special existence or exceptional manifestation.

  • Krishna’s key point: “See the special in the world as a spark of My splendor.”

3. The Analogy of the Drop and the Ocean

  • All attractive things are drops from the ocean of Krishna’s beauty.

  • But not all drops take us toward the ocean—some take us away.

  • Discerning direction: Does this attraction move me toward Krishna or away?

4. Everyday Examples

  • Cricket: Superstar players attracting stadiums full—it’s Krishna’s spark that gives them their magnetism.

  • Music: Sensual songs may reflect Krishna’s beauty, but devotional songs channel it toward Him.

  • Movies: Skillful illusion also stems from Krishna’s creative potency—even illusion is not easy to create!

5. Application: Two Ways to See the World

  • Distractor View: “This is maya. Avoid it.”

  • Pointer View: “This is a reflection of Krishna’s splendor. Let it remind me of Him.”

6. Compassionate Vision of Krishna

  • Krishna is a yogi, He connects with us even through the things that seem to pull us away.

  • Quoting Srila Prabhupada: Even a drunkard, by remembering the taste of wine as Krishna, can start the journey back.

So if we consider cricket specifically now—see, most people look for some excitement in life. And often, when life is not distressing, it just feels boring. Real life isn’t always thrilling. Yes, it can be troublesome at times, but more than that, it tends to be flat, monotonous, and dull. And when life becomes too dull, people start looking for some kind of escape.

Let’s say this is our ordinary material reality. On average, it tends to be boring. Occasionally, it’s exciting or distressing, but mostly it’s just monotonous. Above this is spiritual reality, which is vibrant and full of joy. There, every talk is like a song, every walk like a dance.

But most people don’t know about this spiritual reality. Either they feel it’s too far away or it feels too far-fetched. So because material reality feels boring, we try to create a sort of virtual reality—a realm where we can experience some excitement. This could be through sports, movies, video games, or other forms of recreation.

This virtual reality becomes a kind of break from the dullness of material life. Ideally, we should strive to raise our consciousness—to elevate ourselves spiritually. That’s where real and enduring excitement lies. But for many people, either they can’t perceive it or don’t believe it exists. So they don’t pursue it.

Instead, they turn to the virtual world. Now, this isn’t inherently wrong. Krishna Himself says recreation is fine—if it is regulated. A little entertainment as a break is okay. But what’s happening today is that entertainment has stopped being a break from life—life has become a break from entertainment.

People don’t watch TV to relax after a busy day—they see daily responsibilities as distractions from their “real” life, which is entertainment. I once saw a card where someone said, “Yesterday, my Wi-Fi went down, so I spent some time with my family. They seem like nice people.” That’s how distant real life has become for many.

Instead of taking a short break from material life to recharge, people try to live in that virtual reality. And that’s where the problem begins. That kind of obsession is unhealthy.

We can compare this to medicine. Turning toward spiritual life is like curative medicine—it actually heals. But recreation, like entertainment, is like a painkiller. If someone is in severe pain, a painkiller helps for the moment. But if they keep taking only painkillers without the curative medicine, two things happen: one, they don’t get cured; and two, their condition worsens. Then they need stronger painkillers just to cope.

That’s exactly what we see in the entertainment world. Take cricket for example: in the past, we had Test cricket—a test of patience and endurance, played over five days. But that became too boring for audiences. So we moved to one-day matches. Then even that wasn’t enough—so we invented T20 cricket. It became more fast-paced and thrilling.

In India, two of the biggest painkillers were always cricket and Bollywood. Eventually, they came together—and what was born? IPL! The Indian Premier League is like a triple dose of painkiller. You’ve got intense action, Bollywood glam, and sports superstars—all rolled into one.

Now, the increasing intensity of such entertainment doesn’t just show the industry’s creativity—it reveals something deeper: the emptiness in people’s lives. They are desperate for a break. That desperation reflects a spiritual vacuum.

So when we, as devotees, see people obsessed with cricket—or when we ourselves feel that pull—it’s not that the attraction is sinful. It’s just distracting. The real question is: why are we distracted?

Either what we are doing in life is not meaningful, or we are not able to perceive its meaning. Either our work itself is unfulfilling, or it’s fulfilling but we haven’t connected it intellectually and emotionally to a higher purpose.

So we need to address the core issue.

From a Krishna conscious perspective, rather than condemning people—“Why are you so mad about cricket?”—we can develop compassion. Their obsession is not because they’re foolish or bad; it’s because they’re empty without Krishna.

And that insight can change our whole attitude.

People spend a fortune for a few hours of cricket. In the last World Cup in England, some devotees’ friends flew from India to watch. The tickets for semi-finals and finals were over £2,500—enough for a couple of round trips to the US! Why would someone spend that much? Because their lives feel so empty, and this gives them a fleeting sense of fulfillment.

So instead of seeing these obsessions simply as maya, delusion, we can see them as cries of the soul—a longing for fulfillment that only Krishna can provide.

Bhaktivinoda Thakur said: When I see how hard materialists work for their pleasures, I feel inspired to work even harder for Krishna’s service.

Raghunatha Dasa Goswami prayed: Just as a materialistic person runs after sense gratification, let my heart run after You, O Lord.

So, as devotees, when we observe worldly obsessions, we can cultivate two things:

  • Deeper Krishna consciousness, and

  • Greater compassion for those searching for joy in the wrong places.

In this way, a devotee learns to see the world not with judgment, but with Krishna conscious vision—seeing even distractions as opportunities to deepen our bhakti and share it with others.

Talk Summary: Krishna Consciousness amidst Worldly Engagements

Krishna states that both attached work and artificial renunciation are to be avoided. While real renunciation is good, for most people, detached work is better. Detached work can range from karma yoga to bhakti yoga. Ultimately, all yogas culminate in bhakti yoga. The Gita is inclusive, in that it acknowledges the validity of various paths, but it is not inconclusive—it leads towards a clear conclusion: bhakti.

Now, when Krishna talks about bhakti yoga, there appears to be a tension between two instructions:

  • “Man-mana bhava”—Remember Me—seems to point toward turning away from the world.

  • “Yudhya cha”—Fight—indicates engaging with the world.

How do we reconcile these two? The key lies in understanding what “remembrance” truly means.

Remembrance is not just factual or conceptual; it is personal. It’s remembering our relationship with Krishna, and our responsibility and purpose within that relationship. Just as a parent may remember their child while working, even if the child is far away, our remembrance of Krishna can continue even as we engage with the world.

Usually, love leads to remembrance. But in Krishna consciousness, it can work both ways—consciously cultivating remembrance can also awaken love. So when the Gita says “remember Krishna,” it means remembering Him with the intention to love Him more.

When we remember someone we love, we also remember our responsibilities toward them. In that light, Arjuna, as a devotee, must fight—it is his service to Krishna. There’s both the action and the purpose behind the action. Initially, the action may be in the foreground of our consciousness and the purpose in the background. But as we grow, the purpose becomes more prominent.

To support this, we spoke about two aspects of bhakti:

  • Immersive Bhakti: Turning away from the world to focus solely on Krishna—like our private sadhana.

  • Inclusive Bhakti: Turning toward the world to serve and share Krishna with others.

We need a balance. Immersive bhakti helps us transcend the world; inclusive bhakti helps us transform it.

Now, as we function in the world, we’re constantly bombarded with stimuli. But some things catch our attention—these are Krishna’s vibhūtis—His special opulences. Someone may be exceptionally attractive, powerful, intelligent, or talented. These qualities attract us because they are reflections of Krishna’s own splendor.

We can view the attractive aspects of the world either as:

  • Temptations that pull us away from Krishna, or

  • Reflections that remind us of Krishna’s beauty and opulence.

This doesn’t mean focusing visually or sensually on these objects, but comprehending their deeper source—“I see your point” kind of vision. In this way, we can become conscious of Krishna even in things that would normally make us unconscious of Him.

For example, consider the ocean—every drop of water comes from it. Similarly, every attractive thing comes from Krishna. However, not everything attractive takes us to Krishna. So we acknowledge Krishna’s opulence in all things, but focus especially on those that deepen our connection with Him.

Take cricket, for example. People are passionately drawn to it. Why? Because the talent of cricketers and the excitement of the game reflect Krishna’s vibhūti. That’s the power of Krishna manifesting.

Now, what’s happening today is that:

  • The ordinary level of reality is often seen as boring.

  • The spiritual level is exciting, but feels too far away or unbelievable for many.

  • So people escape into virtual reality—like excessive entertainment.

Entertainment as recreation is okay. But when it becomes more important than real life, that’s a problem. It’s like someone in pain using painkillers so much that they forget to take the actual medicine—very damaging.

Modern entertainment is becoming increasingly rajasik and tamasik—filled with passion and ignorance. If we find ourselves still attached to it, we shouldn’t condemn ourselves but reflect: This shows the power of Krishna’s attractiveness. People are desperately thirsty, and any drop of pleasure feels worth chasing because they lack the ocean of Krishna in their hearts.

Instead of condemnation, let us cultivate compassion—for ourselves and others—and strive to:

  • Practice immersive bhakti to fill our hearts with Krishna.

  • Practice inclusive bhakti to share Krishna with others.

Q&A Section Highlights

Q: How did Ajamila’s chanting of Narayana save him? Did he attain Vaikuntha?
No, Ajamila’s chanting didn’t take him back to Godhead immediately—it saved him from going to hell. That’s not a small thing, but it’s not the same as attaining Vaikuntha.

Love is necessary to go to Krishna. Just chanting Krishna’s name at the time of death while thinking of cricket won’t take us to Krishna—it’s not a geographical relocation; it’s a redirection of the heart.

The holy name is so powerful that even indirect or unintended chanting can save us from sin. But this is an exception, not the rule. Scripture often uses extreme examples—both positive (Ajamila) and negative (Bharata Maharaj)—to emphasize the standard principle, not to standardize the exception.

The key is regular, intentional remembrance of Krishna.

Q: If we need to set goals to do our work well, won’t we get attached to the results?
There’s a crucial distinction between goals and results.

  • Goals are set before action to bring focus and energy.

  • Results come after action, and are influenced by many factors beyond our control.

Krishna says, “You have a right to perform your duty, but not to the fruits.” We should wholeheartedly set goals and do our best, but once the action is done, we let go of the outcome and move on to our next duty.

We are responsible for the input, but not the outcome. That’s how we stay focused, yet detached.

Q: What does detached work mean for a mother caring for her child?

It certainly doesn’t mean indifference. Rather, it means:

  • Accepting the child as an individual with their own nature and limitations.

  • Not trying to remake the child in our own image.

  • Not letting our emotions (like frustration or pride) dictate how we deal with the child.

Detachment doesn’t mean absence of emotion—it means not being controlled by emotion.

In any relationship, there’s both acceptance and expectation. When expectations aren’t met, we don’t abandon the relationship—we adjust, accept, and stay engaged. This is true detachment.

Conclusion:
Bhakti is not just about renunciation or emotion. It is about intention, remembrance, relationship, and engagement. Let’s remember Krishna with love, serve Him with care, and share His love with others.

Thank you very much. Hare Krishna.