Editing this book has been an unforgetable experience. Over the past fiŌy years, I have worked with many texts—mostly philosophical ones—but this book is different. It does not present conceptual discourses or loŌy treatises, at least not in appearance, yet it touches the heart with a power equal to, or perhaps greater than, that of a revelation heard through words on transcendental truths.
Madhavi’s tender style draws us close to the animals of Rupa Goshala as beings with personality, character, and emotion. As spiritual souls, they are, in essence, persons who wish to love and be loved—just like us—and the experiences gathered in these pages reveal this with unmistakable clarity.
When Prabhupada speaks of the gopis, he oŌen emphasizes that they were neither philosophers nor brahmaaas, nor even men, but village girls. Yet their love and devotion for Krishna were unparalleled.
Something similar can be said of the cowherd women and men who have cared, who care now, and who will continue to care for Krishna’s cows at Rupa Goshala. What is even more astonishing is that the cows themselves belong to the same category: they offer their milk, their companionship, and their entire lives in service to Krishna, without expecting recognition or reward. They seek nothing for themselves. In their presence—as companions—the influence of Kaliyuga, with all the weight of its dark burden, fades into the distance, erased from the scene.
The pages of this book overflow with love: selfless, unconditional love born solely from the sincere desire to please Krishna. Reading the stories collected here—the affectionate exchanges between cows and caretakers—is like immersing oneself in a lake of crystal-clear waters that refresh the soul. They remind us that peaceful coexistence is indeed possible—without endless arguments about how things should or should not be done—when we serve together, with one heart, the Supreme Cowherd.