This question came from a friend who had just attended one of my talks. He explained, “Normally, in executive humor—that which is appropriate for workplace and educational settings—the person who cracks a joke does not laugh.”Nodding, I replied, “Yes, I have received this input several times from senior leaders who had recommended such deadpan humor.”

“But I have also received other kinds of feedback. Once, at the Govardhan Ecovillage near Mumbai, I met for the first time a student who had completed my entire 165-hour online Bhakti Shastri course. While we were chatting, a humorous point came up and I laughed. He stared at me. When I asked whether something was wrong, he replied, ‘Today I came to know that you laugh also. I thought you were a very serious person—I didn’t see you laugh even once during all the 165 hours I heard you.’ I found his reply unsettlingly unforgettable.”

And it was just one among many similar comments. After a congregation program in Delhi, I asked the organizer why no one had laughed at any of the humorous points in my class. He replied, “Your classes are so serious, and you look so serious while making serious points, that people are seriously scared of laughing, thinking that it will be a serious offense to you.”

Of course, he didn’t use the word serious so many times. That is my seriously humorous rephrasing of his feedback. But seriously, his feedback would have been humorous had it not been so serious.

One American devotee once told me, “You have such an innocent and sweet laugh—it lights up your whole face.” I replied, “That’s as true as saying I have great hair.” (As a monk, I am shaven-headed.)

Over the years, many such incidents have persuaded me to continue laughing at the humorous points that come up in my classes. It is my way of lightening the mood and, if required, giving the audience permission to laugh.

Additionally, I simply find it artificial to deprive myself of a laugh. Life gives us so many reasons to become fretful, doleful, resentful. If we have a reason to become cheerful and joyful, why deny ourselves that opportunity?

Reflecting on this reminded me of an article I had written on my daily Gita blog, GitaDaily.com, about the relationship between destiny and free will. The summary sentence of that article had been: “Destiny determines the complexion of our face; we determine the expression on our face.”

I can’t change the fact that my overall demeanor is serious, that the content of my classes is serious, and that when I am seriously contemplating serious concepts, my face becomes seriously, seriously serious—serious cubed. Amid all this, the only thing I can easily change is the expression on my face, at least during moments of humor.

Krishna’s Smile

These conversations gradually made me think more deeply—not just about laughter, but about smiling itself. I thought of the divine smile that occurs at the emotional turning point near the beginning of the Bhagavad Gita. After a teary-eyed Arjuna surrenders, seeking a way out of his tormenting ethical dilemma (2.7), Krishna responds with a gentle smile (2.10: prahasann iva).

At first glance, that smile might seem jarring. When one person is crying, how can the other smile?

Krishna’s smile is actually meant to be soothing. When a patient is alarmed and panicky, a doctor may respond with a calm, gentle smile, reassuring the patient that the condition is treatable.

Similarly, Krishna’s smile conveys confidence to Arjuna. It communicates Krishna’s calm transcendence amid the turbulence inside Arjuna’s heart. It radiates Krishna’s affection through gesture before that affection pours out through words.

The Language of Laughter

I was reminded further of something fascinating I had come across in Rupa Goswami’s Bhakti-rasamrita-sindhu (Uttara-vibhaga 1, 4.1.14–20). He describes six progressively stronger expressions of devotional laughter (hasya-bhakti-rasa):

Smita — a gentle smile

Hasita — a soft laugh

Vihasita — a fuller, open laugh

Avahasita — an expressive laugh that changes the whole face

Apahasita — an uncontrollable laugh accompanied by tears

Atihasita — uproarious, boisterous laughter

He explains that the gentler forms of laughter, smita and hasita, occur generally in Krishna’s dignified dealings with his elders. The next two are seen more in his intimate dealings with the gopas and the gopis. The last two occur in highly humorous situations.

As I reflected on these descriptions, I felt that I could bring into my classes more occasions for lightheartedness—at least to the levels of smita and hasita.
Learning to Smile

A well-wishing senior once told me that, at the start of a class, I should smile at the audience to greet and welcome them. But after our opening Sanskrit prayers, which are naturally serious, I find it almost unnatural to smile.

I have found that if I can remember the smile with which Krishna began instructing Arjuna, I smile more naturally.

I pray that I may meditate more on Krishna’s smile. And may that meditation help me appreciate more deeply and smile more naturally as I cherish every opportunity to share the wisdom that followed his smile.

***

02.10 O descendant of Bharata, at that time Kṛṣṇa, smiling, in the midst of both the armies, spoke the following words to the grief-stricken Arjuna.