SpiritualThe bull symbolizes religion, dharma, and its four legs represent the pillars that uphold it: truthfulness, purity, austerity, and mercy. Just as a table stands firmly on four legs, religion remains steady as long as these four virtues are being upheld.
In the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, Canto One, Chapter Seventeen, it is described how King Parīkṣit encounters a wounded bull with three broken legs and a cow weeping beside him. The bull is dharma personified, and in that scene, he is being atacked by Kali—the personification of the present age of quarrel, in which spiritual values are gradually declining. This image powerfully illustrates how the erosion of religious principles affects the entire fabric of society.
Śrīla Prabhupāda comments:
When the king asked the bull who his assailant was, the bull did not blame anyone directly. Then the king confirmed his identity with King Pariksit threatening to kill Kali for atacking the bull of dharma these words: O you, who are in the form of a bull! You know the truth of religion, and you are speaking according to the principle that the destination intended for the perpetrator of irreligious acts is also intended for one who identifies the perpetrator. You are no other than the personality of religion. (SB 1.17.22)
Dharma — The Noble One
“When we read in a letter from Śrīla Prabhupāda that it is better to avoid artificial insemination and to use the natural method of procreation, we decided to acquire a full bull—both as a sire and as a representative of religious principles. Thus, in 2006, Dharma arrived at New Vrajamandala—the first and only full bull ever to live in the goshala. He was only six months old and came with a nose ring, so I began training him from a very young age to pull logs and a cart. He even learned to move backward. At the age of two, Dharma fathered the bull Krishnita with Amrita. Latter, with Kartika, he sired Bhumi and Rukmini. With his consort Laxmi, he fathered Radharani, and again with Amrita, Sundari. In the end, he impregnated both Radharani and Sundari. Radharani lost her calf, while Sundari gave birth to Jagannatha. Dharma was a truly noble bull. He never showed a trace of aggression, even when approached by strangers.” —Anadi
When Dharma first entered Rupa Goshala, accompanied by his daughter Rukmini, the other cows—who did not know him—came closer to see them. Radharani and Sundari, who already knew who Dharma was, stayed at a certain distance.
Hanuman, a large and powerful ox, quickly approached to challenge him. Dharma, much shorter and smaller, showed neither fear nor hesitation. Hanuman pushed him back with all his strength, forcing Dharma to retreat step by step. Yet Dharma, calm and composed, waited for the right moment—and then delivered a precise blow to Hanuman’s nose with his horn. Blood started to flow.
From that day on, Hanuman recognized Dharma’s courage and
The Bull of Rupa Goshala – Dharma
understood that he was the true leader of the herd. It was the only time anyone ever saw Dharma act that way, and it was also the last day Hanuman ever displayed aggression. From then on, he stopped breaking doors and fences in the goshala, stopped bothering the other cows, and became gentle and peaceful.
When Dharma arrived, he still wore a ring through his nose. The cowherds decided to remove it, and aŌer they did, Dharma became even more serene—so much so that Damodara Priya could care for him on her own. He accepted her service with full trust, knowing he would never be harmed. He was a noble and kind-hearted bull.
As the years went by, Dharma became slower and even gentler. With humans he was calm and dignified, and with the cows, tender and romantic. He behaved like a true gentleman: whenever a cow was in heat, Dharma would immediately assume his noble bearing, ever Dharma and Rukmini ready for procreation. Though age had taken some of his agility, his strong spirit still filled him with enthusiasm.
This bull, whose character was beyond reproach, leŌ his body on a summer aŌernoon in 2024. That day I had gone to clean, feed, and milk the cows when Parama Karuna told me, “When you arrive, go check on Dharma—he is lying near the river.”
Parama Karuna had been watching him that morning and found it strange that he had not goten up for so long.
When I arrived, I went straight to him and found him lying down, unable to stand. He tried, but his body was already weak and swollen. I ran to get a rope to try to help him. I hurried back, but when I reached him, Dharma was already in his final moments. His breathing was deep and labored, then gradually grew calmer, slower, and soŌer.
Witnessing Dharma leave his body was an experience I will never forget. I felt powerless, yet I knew his time had come. Krishna granted me the privilege of being by his side in his final hour as a bull. Aware that nothing more could be done, I turned my heart toward our Lord, the protector of cows, and began to call out to Him in faith and surrender: “Krishna! Krishna! Krishna! Please, help us.”
And then, Dharma released his final breath.
The difference between a living body and a lifeless one is clearly perceivable. The soul cannot be seen, yet its presence is undeniable. Some may think the soul does not exist, but I could feel it the very moment Dharma’s soul leŌ his body. With that final breath, the bull’s body was leŌ empty and became a corpse.
Arjuna holding Krishnachandra
The Mystic Power of the Cow
For a time, the Brihuega Tourist Office organized cultural visits to Finca Santa Clara—the legal name of New Vrajamandala. Thanks to this initiative, not only did neighbors from the nearby villages come, but also groups arrived by bus from larger cities such as Madrid and Guadalajara to learn about the community, its temple, and, of course, the cows living in a unique refuge in Spain: the nonviolent dairy, Rupa Goshala. Arjuna recalls:
“Once, a group of about fiŌy elderly women came to the goshala. It was a bit chaotic, with all due respect, because they never stopped talking. But well, cows are very tolerant. We gave them the opportunity to milk, so they entered the stalls in small groups of five. One by one, they began to milk. Then, at one point, something incredible happened. A woman who had just milked, aŌer drawing a little milk, stood up and began to cry uncontrollably—she could not stop crying. Then she hugged me and said: ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you. You see, for a long time I’ve been struggling with myself because I want to become a vegetarian and just couldn’t do it… you know? I could not. But aŌer milking this cow, something has changed inside me. Now I’m sure—I will never eat meat again.’ I’m convinced that this crucial step she took—that determination— was inspired by the cow.”