Hare Krishna Chanting Quotes

Allen Ginsberg—sitting amid a huddle of Yippies off to the right—began chanting again, as he had all evening: “Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare….” Ginsberg believed; he believed in everything—in democracy, in socialism, in communism, in anarchism, in Ezra Pound’s idealistic variety of fascist economics, in Buckminster Fuller’s technological Utopia, in D. H. Lawrence’s return to preindustrial pastoralism, and in Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism, Christianity, Voodoo, astrology magic; but, above all, in the natural goodness of man.

The thing that surprised me the most here was that the solitary Hare Krishna fellow with the shaved head, who danced and chanted God’s holy names on the college campus, was actually the most exalted in God’s eyes! It was not that his religion was superior to that of the Christians that made him superior, but rather it was the fact that he personally had the greatest love of God. In fact, this particular Hare Krishna fellow loved God so much that he was continually willing to publicly display his praises to Him alone in the midst of ungodly people like myself who continually mocked and scorned him. I was shown that this man was so very much in love with the Lord, that he was oblivious to those of us who mocked him. The Christians had not transcended their egos and were still on the mental platform, but this Hare Krishna devotee was on a transcendental platform of consciousness.

You can simply work hard—you will get whatever you are destined to get, either you work hard or not hard. It doesn’t matter.

Love is pretty amazing, chant hare krishna and be happy.

Yamuna: Toward the end of the ceremony, Swamiji, smiling broadly, picked up a small bongo drum and said, “Now we will have kirtan.” His chanting started off slowly, and he appeared fully absorbed in it. His voice was vibrant and clear, the melody simple, the cadence strong and steady. I was relieved because this part seemed easy enough—quite unlike the Sanskrit recited throughout the wedding ceremony. After a couple of repetitions of Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare, Hare Rama, Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare, Swamiji nodded his head and other voices joined in. Over and over they repeated the three-worded mantra. When Swamiji closed his eyes, I noted that many others did so as well. I speculated that this fostered a trance-like state, but I still kept my eyes wide open so as not to miss anything. I did not chant, fearing that if I were to add my voice to the mix, it might disturb its cohesiveness, its balance. In this way, I observed and listened to the chanting for a good five minutes or so. Chanting the mantra seemed different from any group singing I had ever experienced. The first thing that struck me was its simplicity: a simple melody, an easy rhythm, and only three words. When I too closed my eyes and joined the others, it was as though I had been chanting this simple song to God forever. I soon found myself soothed and relieved of all my anxieties, though I could not understand how or why this was happening. I just surrendered to the sound and let it envelop my senses, allowing myself to trust, to call out—to open my heart to its promise.