Krishna laughed, and the sound was like a thousand temple bells. “Because not all can love at first sight. Some need the cart. Some need the horse. Some need the ship. But know this, my faithful Uddhava: When the cart breaks, when the horse tires, when the ship sinks—love remains. Love is the rope that binds the infinite to the infinitesimal. And I willingly tie that knot Myself.”
The Lord picked up a small pebble and a fallen mango fruit.
“That,” Krishna said, “is the secret of Chapter Twelve. The sages who perform great sacrifices and meditate for thousands of years attain only a fraction of what one loving tear from My devotee’s eye can achieve. Why? Because I am captured by love, not by logic .”
Krishna plucked a fallen champaka flower and twirled it between His fingers. “Uddhava,” He said gently, “imagine a man lost in a vast forest. He stumbles upon a stone. If he believes it is a lump of clay, he will ignore it. If he believes it is a priceless gem, he will polish it and wear it as a crown. The stone is the same. The difference is his love for it.”
Long ago, in the sacred city of Dwaraka, the Yadava chief Uddhava was troubled. Though learned in the Vedas and wise in the ways of diplomacy, his heart ached with a single, burning question.
“O Supreme Teacher,” Uddhava began, bowing low. “You have spoken of karma —action without selfish desire. You have illuminated jnana —the path of analytical wisdom. You have even revealed ashtanga-yoga —the eight-limbed discipline of mind and body. Yet, my Lord, my heart is confused. Which of these is the highest?”