The word bhakti means service, whereas bhukti means enjoyment. The term bhagavad-bhakti refers to the service of Śrī Bhagavān. However, depending on one’s adhikāra, the service of the Lord manifests in various forms. A kaniṣṭhādhikārī (neophyte devotee) finds satisfaction merely in vigraha-sevā (service to the deity), but what about those who engage in deity worship as a commercial enterprise? It is necessary to consider this aspect. Everywhere — especially the places which are well known as pilgrimage sites — one finds a proliferation of such vigraha-vyavasāyī (those who make business out of deity). Many people question whether these individuals are truly vigraha-sevakas (servants of the deity). Before answering this question, we must carefully examine the question itself. The term sevā denotes actions performed exclusively for the pleasure of the Lord, with a complete renunciation of one’s own desires for enjoyment. If even the slightest inclination for personal enjoyment remains, service is obstructed in proportion to that inclination. The most abominable practice is that of using the Lord as a means to serve oneself — exploiting the instruments of Lord’s service for personal gain. Wherever such fraudulent service is observed, we must neither recognize it as sevā nor endorse it. We should not even support such activities with monetary contributions or other forms of assistance, because no genuine service is being performed there. In such a place, providing support is not only fruitless; rather, it would end up giving shelter to the endeavors of the wicked and thereby give birth to the sevāparādha — serious offenses in service. Therefore, the association of such people who claim to be sevakas must be completely abandoned.
A story comes to mind in this regard. A bābu (gentleman), after enduring the scoldings of his office superior throughout the day and working diligently, returned home from work. His wife was busy in the kitchen. Feeling hungry, the bābu gave one coin to his servant, Rāmaśaraṇa Behārā, and asked him to bring four sandeśa (a type of Bengali sweet). Meanwhile, the bābu busied himself with changing his clothes and washing his hands and face. After some time, he noticed that Rāmaśaraṇa had returned with only one sandeśa instead of four. Seeing this, he became somewhat irritated — he was already famished, had spent money, and yet had not received the desired quantity. Fuming with anger, he asked the servant, "You wretched fool! I gave you a coin, and you brought back just one sandeśa?" The servant, unfazed, confidently replied, "Sir, there’s a long story behind this. You're already burning up over this matter, so for now, let it be. I’ll explain everything later."
"You’ll explain later? you wretched scoundrel, what happened to the other three sandeśa? Tell me, otherwise, I’ll break your head!"
"Yes, yes, as you say Sir, I will tell you everything, but bābu, if you don’t get angry, then I can speak freely."
"Alright, speak."
"As you say Sir. Sir, I have never seen you consume anything bad. So, when the sweetmaker gave them, how could I bring them without checking whether they were good or bad? So, I tasted one to check. Yes, indeed, it was good."
"You scoundrel! Are you the devil? I sent you to buy them, but did I ask you to taste them? Alright, fine, so one is gone — what about the other two?"
"Sir, you are my master, my mother, my father. How could I ever be your enemy? How could I possibly bring three items to you? [As per local beliefs, the number ‘three’ is considered inauspicious, especially while offering food to anyone.] Thinking this way, I became utterly confused, and after much effort, an idea finally came to my mind. So, I put another one in my mouth, got rid of three items, and kept the remaining two. How could I ever be your enemy, master?"
"You rascal! Are you some kind of saintly devotee? Since when did you start loving me so much? And that’s why you’re eating by snatching it from my mouth, huh? Alright, fine. But then at least two should have been left — what happened to the last one, you scoundrel?"
"Sir, if you allow then I may tell. You always keep a portion of whatever you eat aside for me, like prasāda (merciful remnants of the Lord), so I simply took my share in advance. I know you are kindness personified, and once I get my due, you won’t be angry with me."
"This scoundrel is just like those so-called saintly devotees — always taking the prasāda before the offering is even complete! You wretched, after eating two already, how did you manage to eat the last one as well?"
"Sir, I am more than willing to show you. Just don’t blame me, Babu. You asked, so I’m showing you exactly how I did it."
Saying this, the devoted servant casually popped the fourth piece of sandeśa into his mouth and then proceeded to demonstrate the exact method by which he had already devoured the other three. What happened after that is not necessary to mention in this current essay, so I won’t go into excessive detail. Now, dear reader, observe carefully — what kind of master-servant relationship is this?
"jīva nitya kṛṣṇadāsa” [The living entity is eternally Kṛṣṇa’s servant] — forgetting this, it has put the noose of māyā on its neck and is now trying to deceive Kṛṣṇa, thus deceiving himself, and deceiving others as well. For a moment, reflect upon this yourselves — when, in the name of service, there is such a business of dealing with the deity, is it truly Kṛṣṇa’s service or merely a means for one's own enjoyment? We shall not provide further answers and become the target of resentment from a particular class of people. Nor are we prepared to flatter anyone. We remain impartial. You may judge for yourselves — Is this bhakti, or bhukti?
