Why Krishna Matters In Life

Krishna is respected chiefly as a religious figure, a divine character worshipped by millions of devotees. Temples, rituals, and hymns celebrate his glory. His names (Govinda, Madhav, Gopal, and Hari, among others) echo in prayers, his form graces sculptures, and his stories have been told for centuries. But, beyond these formalities, he is something more precious: a friend, a guide, and a counsellor for the human soul. In a world continually caught in confusion, moral dilemmas, and emotional struggle, Krishna transcends scriptural roles and finds expressions in everyday trials of ordinary lives.

A scene of war that beautifully explains Krishna's significance is the battlefield of Kurukshetra. Arjuna, a mighty prince, is paralysed under the crushing weight of doubt. He collapses into despair when he faces his kith and kin across the battlefield. At this critical moment, Krishna does not remain somebody commanding from afar. Instead, he works as a friend who sees tears in his eyes, listens to the tremble in Arjuna's voice, and patiently uplifts him from his "dampened spirit" through courage, calmness, compassion, and devotion. Krishna rhetorically engages in the sambhada and appeals to Arjuna's highest self to bring him out of moments of despair and ultimately make him recognise himself.

Arjuna's transformation from a state of paralysing doubt to one of determined action was driven by realising his dharma and the understanding of a higher purpose that transcended his immediate fears. As Swami Prabhupada explains, Krishna never imposes decisions upon Arjuna; instead, he acknowledges the pain of human emotions and gradually steers him towards truth and inner strength. With a smile, Krishna reminds Arjuna of his potential and encourages him to act without attachment to outcomes. He rekindles courage by evoking veera rasa from within Arjuna's soul, like a gardener nurturing a wilting flower back to bloom.

One must act without attachment to its fruits, one of Krishna's central teachings. He explains that we suffer because, driven by greed, we cling to outcomes. And the sad reality is that greed nourishes desire and fuels ego, while ego promotes conceit, possessiveness, and jealousy. Krishna's counsel becomes an antidote: remain centred in duty and release the craving for rewards. He emphasises nishkama karma as a key to inner freedom. This philosophy brings clarity in confusion, peace in chaos, and strength in vulnerability. It liberates people from the chains of expectation and changes action into a path of inner growth.

Life, too, is a Kurukshetra. Each day, we encounter battles; some external, many internal. Our decisions about career, ethics, relationships, and personal meaning often leave us paralysed. We are torn between competing demands: work and family, freedom and belonging, and ambition and conscience. We need a friend who can evoke our latent strength in such moments. At this moment, we need Krishna's presence as a counsellor. His way of counselling, which includes patient listening, emotional intelligence, and philosophical clarity, makes him the ideal inner guide. He is not loud or dramatic; he walks beside us, whispering the truths we already know but have forgotten. He reminds us that confusion is not failure and that strength often emerges from tenderness. He teaches stillness and detachment, whereas modern life demands speed and attachment.

Krishna's relevance is not limited to the battlefield. If Kurukshetra shows Krishna as a guide in confusion, the story of Sudama exposes Krishna as a friend in poverty, powerlessness, and vulnerability. Sudama, Krishna's childhood friend, lived a life of extreme poverty. When despair pressed upon him, Sudama, persuaded by his wife to seek help, hesitantly approached Krishna, carrying a few grains of beaten rice as a gift. What follows is a story of pure friendship that defies friendship's strategic and transactional nature. Their bond speaks to the timeless truth that the worth of a friendship lies in affection, sincerity, and the recognition of one another's essence.

When Krishna sees Sudama, he does not see a poor man; instead, he considers him a friend. He rushes forward, embraces him, honours him as an honoured guest, and cherishes the offering as though it were a treasure. Krishna never humiliates Sudama; instead, he restores his dignity, which poverty had tried to erode. In a world that often evaluates people by their possessions and achievements, Krishna reminds us that true friendship is recognition of the soul, which is untarnished by material calculations. Sudama did not even ask for help, but Krishna realised the need without it being spoken. That indicates divine friendship: intuitive, generous, and unconditional.

But finding such a friend or guide in the modern world is not easy. Most of our friendships today are governed by what Aristotle once called utility friendships, formed not for love or virtue, but for benefit. That is why Krishna's unconditional friendship and guidance matter a lot. We may not always find a Krishna in our lives, but we can at least aspire to be more like him or wish for such a presence beside us. The more profound message may be that Krishna also resides within each of us, waiting to be awakened and waiting to be the friend we offer to others.

Krishna matters because he shows us the entirety of human experience. He teaches us how to face confusion with clarity, poverty with dignity, and routine with joy. He stands beside us offering companionship. Therefore, his words in the Bhagavad Gita are not abstract and cold philosophical discussions and living emotional guidance to human struggles that descend into the heart and the hard decisions of everyday life.

When uncertainty and confusion surround us, Krishna is the friend who soothes our hearts. When pride blinds us, Krishna is the "smile" that reminds us of humility. When isolation engulfs us, Krishna pours love to fill the empty spaces. He teaches that joy is not in what we acquire and control but in how we give and let go.

To seek Krishna is not merely to perform rituals but to seek a better version of ourselves: courageous, compassionate, joyful, and wise. In this battlefield called life, Krishna matters because he keeps the human spirit alive and anchored in truth, love, and joy. He reminds us that even in the chaos, there is clarity; even in despair, there is light; and even in confusion, there is a path forward—walked not alone, but with a friend like Krishna beside us.

(Baral is an assistant professor at Tribhuvan University and is pursuing a PhD at the University of Texas at El Paso, USA.)