“Govinda Gopala Mere Nandalala Mere Gopala… Murli Manohara Nanda Lala”🎉… What can one do…singing such words, really… but weep? Perhaps a few words… on the subject of weeping in separation from the Beloved…

That is the natural response. When the holy names rise in the heart — Govinda, Gopāla, Nanda-lāla, Murlī-manohara — what else can one do but weep? It is not sentimentality, but the soul remembering its home. Tears become the language of recognition: “I am Yours. Always was. Always will be.”

Śrīla Prabhupāda once said that chanting is successful when it brings tears, the hairs standing on end, the voice faltering — signs of the awakening of bhakti (devotional love). Even if those tears do not yet come, the yearning itself is a kind of weeping, a reaching toward the sweetness of Kṛṣṇa’s flute.

The Gauḍīya ācāryas describe this very state — the heart breaking open at the sound of the holy names — as the most natural response to Kṛṣṇa’s presence.

In the Śikṣāṣṭakam, Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu gives the classic picture of this mood:

“yugāyitaṁ nimeṣeṇa
cakṣuṣā prāvṛṣāyitam
śūnyāyitaṁ jagat sarvaṁ
govinda-viraheṇa me”

“Every moment seems like twelve years or more; tears flow from My eyes like torrents of rain; the whole world appears empty in the absence of Govinda.”

Here we see weeping not as weakness, but as the natural overflow of love.

Similarly, in the Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu, Rūpa Gosvāmī explains the symptoms of bhāva-bhakti — trembling, faltering voice, choking, tears. They are called anubhāvas, outward signs of the inward fire. Tears for Govinda and Gopāla are like cooling water to the scorching fire of material ignorance.

Śrīla Narottama dāsa Ṭhākura sings in Prema-bhakti-candrikā:

“gaurāṅga bolite habe pulaka śarīra
hari hari bolite nayane ba’be nīra”

“When I chant the name of Gaurāṅga, the hairs of my body will stand on end; when I chant Hari, streams of tears will flow from my eyes.”

The ācāryas tell us that these tears are the ornaments of the soul, the true wealth of bhakti. They are not produced by effort, but descend as grace — kṛpā-siddhi.

So when you sing Govinda Gopāla Mere Nanda-lāla… and tears come, it is the heart remembering its eternal master. Śrīla Viśvanātha Cakravartī Ṭhākura says: “The Lord is conquered not by austerity, wealth, or power — but by the tears of His devotee.”

Brahma-saṁhitā 5.1

īśvaraḥ paramaḥ kṛṣṇaḥ
sac-cid-ānanda-vigrahaḥ
anādir ādir govindaḥ
sarva-kāraṇa-kāraṇam

“Govinda, Kṛṣṇa, is the Supreme Controller. He has an eternal, blissful, spiritual form. He is the origin of all, though He Himself has no origin. He is the cause of all causes.”

This verse is said to have been spoken by Brahmā after his deep meditation, when the vision of Govinda’s flute-playing form filled his heart. The Brahma-saṁhitā itself is considered Brahmā’s hymn of ecstasy — his tears of realization pouring out as poetry.

Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam 10.14.8 (Brahmā’s Prayers after the “Brahma-vimohana-līlā”)

tat te ’nukampāṁ su-samīkṣamāṇo
bhuñjāna evātma-kṛtaṁ vipākam
hṛd-vāg-vapurbhir vidadhan namas te
jīveta yo mukti-pade sa dāya-bhāk

“My dear Lord, one who earnestly waits for You to bestow Your mercy while patiently suffering the reactions of his past misdeeds, and who continues to offer You respects with his heart, words, and body, is surely eligible for liberation, for it has become his rightful claim.”

Here Brahmā, humbled and in tears after being bewildered by Kṛṣṇa, admits that true greatness is not in creation or power, but in surrender and longing for Govinda’s mercy.

Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam 10.14.34

jñāne prayāsam udapāsya namanta eva
jīvanti san-mukharitāṁ bhavadīya-vārtām
sthāne sthitāḥ śruti-gatāṁ tanu-vāṅ-manobhir
ye prāyaśo ’jita jito ’py asi tais tri-lokyām

“My Lord, those who, even while remaining in their own positions, simply hear about You from the mouths of pure devotees, and chant and remember Your names, can conquer You, though You are otherwise unconquerable.”

Brahmā, the first guru in our sampradāya, here bows in tears, confessing that even his intellect is defeated by the sweetness of devotion — by the weeping of devotees for Govinda.

Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam 10.21.9 (the Gopīs’ Song of Separation)

vṛndāvanaṁ sakhi bhuvo vitanoti kīrtiṁ
yad devakī-suta-padāmbuja-labdha-lakṣmī
govinda-veṇum anu matta-mayūra-nṛtyaṁ
prekṣyādri-sānv-avaśagaṁ śruta-cārvitānām

“O friend, this Vṛndāvana is spreading the glory of the earth, being marked with the lotus footprints of the son of Devakī. The peacocks, hearing Govinda’s flute, are dancing in madness, and the deer, with their wives, are gazing upon Him with great joy.”

Even nature itself is depicted as weeping, dancing, and swooning at the sound of Murli-manohara — Govinda’s flute.

In all these passages, a common thread is that even Brahmā himself — the great creator — is moved to tears of humility before Govinda, and the gopīs, animals, even the forests are swept up in the same mood. The greatest truth the texts reveal is that longing, tears, and surrender are more powerful than creation or knowledge.

You can hear a lovely rendition of this ancient song of love here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zzmcqP5gQQE&list=RDzzmcqP5gQQE&start_radio=1

om tat sat