Banyan Trees

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5 mins September, 2026
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Where Krishna and His lessons come together


Banyan trees matter deeply in bhakti, so here’s why
you should stop and chat with the banyans around you.


By Aarushi Agrawal


One of the core practices of bhakti is smaranam, or remembering the Divine. By always keeping God in one’s mind, our consciousness evolves and broadens. By remembering God, we’re not just thinking about a higher entity but also meditating on our own identity as the soul and recalling the ultimate goal of this human life — going back to Godhead. This consciousness gives us purpose and direction in life and becomes our reason to wake up and get to work each morning.


And in a bid to help us always remember Him, Krishna, the Supreme Lord, tells us in the Bhagavad-gita about the various forms He takes, being the banyan among trees.

asvatthah sarva-vrikshanam

devarshinam ca naradah

gandharvanam citrarathah

siddhanam kapilo munih


“Of all trees I am the banyan tree, and of the sages among the demigods I am Narada. Of the Gandharvas I am Citraratha, and among perfected beings I am the sage Kapila.” (Bhagavad-gita 10.26)


India is a land that’s bursting with banyan trees around every street and corner, going so far as to make the banyan our national tree. Panchayats meet under a banyan’s shade and shape our towns and villages, yogis meditate under banyans and further our spiritual credit, children play, animals swing from branch to branch, insects and birds are supported. And devotees see Krishna in every banyan. Each banyan is not just an ecosystem, but a culture in itself. 


And then there are the standouts, where Krishna comes alive even more vividly than most other banyans.


About 25 kilometres from Kadiri, a city in Andhra Pradesh, is the Thimmamma Marrimanu. ‘Marri,’ in Telugu, means banyan, and ‘manu’ is tree, meaning Thimmamma’s banyan tree. The story goes that a woman named Thimmamma performed the sati ritual, in the 15th century, at the exact spot where the banyan tree now stands. Among the many reasons this tree is special is the fact that it holds the Guinness World Record for having the largest canopy of any tree in the world, spanning 5.41 acres, which roughly equals to three football fields. 


A mini-forest in itself, it’s actually one tree that has carried on growing and spreading over the past five centuries. (There is some debate about the tree being older and larger, but this article can carry on without needing to delve into those technicalities.) Over the years, the tree has survived cyclones and droughts, and is considered a site of pilgrimage today. Many people visit the tree and the temple it houses, bowing down in front of Thimmamma, believing the tree can bless one with fertility. 


Then there’s the Great Banyan Tree close to Kolkata, in the Acharya Jagadish Chandra Bose Indian Botanic Garden, which spreads over 4.6 acres and attracts tourists from all over the world. On a small island in the Narmada River is the Kabirvad, in Gujarat’s Bharuch district, whose canopy covers over 4.33 acres, where the poet Kabir reportedly lived for many years. And in Karnataka’s Kethohalli village is the Dodda Alada Mara, a banyan spanning 3 acres, home to several monkeys that are happy to snatch food and belongings from tourists.


These are just a few of the many, many banyan trees that have taken root in our land. And all one has to do in the presence of a banyan is remember Krishna. Standing under the canopy of a banyan is like getting a warm hug from Krishna, making a swing from its roots is like playing with Him in Vrindavan and climbing up its branches is like demanding His attention with all the fierceness only a devotee can muster. 


The banyan has much glory and is viewed with reverence by the people of India. Some talk about its massive size and long age. Others focus on the legends surrounding the trees and the local stories and culture tied up with a tree. Those with a more scientific bent meditate on its ferocity, discussing how it’s a strangler fig, growing from seeds that birds have deposited on other trees, by sending their roots down and smothering the host tree. 


All these aspects of banyans are interesting. But the highest observation one can make about them is a spiritual one — that Krishna contains, and is contained in, every single banyan we lay eyes on. Every time we pass a banyan, with its massive canopy and hanging roots, is an opportunity to meditate upon the Supreme, get a glimpse of His vastness and glory, and importantly, recall the lesson He is teaching us through banyans — that this world is temporary.

sri-bhagavan uvaca

urdhva-mulam adhah-sakham

asvattham prahur avyayam

chandamsi yasya parnani

yas tam veda sa veda-vit


“The Supreme Personality of Godhead said: It is said that there is an imperishable banyan tree that has its roots upward and its branches down and whose leaves are the Vedic hymns. One who knows this tree is the knower of the Vedas.” (Bhagavad-gita, 15.1)


If a banyan tree were situated next to a river, that’s how it would appear — with roots going up and branches coming down. But that’s not the tree’s true constitution. It’s a weak reflection of the real thing. In the same way, the world we’re living in, motivated as it is by our material desires, is not the real deal. It’s temporary, one simple breath of Maha-Vishnu, and no better than a meek reflection of our true home, the spiritual world.


In this material world, one who is entangled in desires is going to keep jumping from one branch to the next, going as we are from one responsibility to the next, one body to the next and one planet to the next, the massive banyan tree never running out of temptations that we can run after. But Krishna is here reminding us that this is all a mirage. It’s an illusion, a weak reflection of the real, spiritual world. Further ahead, He explains how by connecting to Him, one can start to detach from the material world, and return to the spiritual world, from where there’s no return and no race against time, since it’s our eternal position.


And if we decide to make it so, walking through the streets of India, from Gujarat to West Bengal and from north to south, can be a constant reminder, not just of Krishna, but also of that most cherished lesson He’s teaching us — that we must do our best to return to Him.


Aarushi is an independent culture journalist with an interest in reading and writing. She has been connected with ISKCON Chowpatty since 2023 and finds deep satisfaction in the association of devotees around her. She’s slowly making sense of Srila Prabhupada’s teachings and learning how to notice Krishna’s presence at the heart of everything and everyone around her

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Banyan Trees

Banyan Trees
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Where Krishna and His lessons come together


Banyan trees matter deeply in bhakti, so here’s why
you should stop and chat with the banyans around you.


By Aarushi Agrawal


One of the core practices of bhakti is smaranam, or remembering the Divine. By always keeping God in one’s mind, our consciousness evolves and broadens. By remembering God, we’re not just thinking about a higher entity but also meditating on our own identity as the soul and recalling the ultimate goal of this human life — going back to Godhead. This consciousness gives us purpose and direction in life and becomes our reason to wake up and get to work each morning.


And in a bid to help us always remember Him, Krishna, the Supreme Lord, tells us in the Bhagavad-gita about the various forms He takes, being the banyan among trees.

asvatthah sarva-vrikshanam

devarshinam ca naradah

gandharvanam citrarathah

siddhanam kapilo munih


“Of all trees I am the banyan tree, and of the sages among the demigods I am Narada. Of the Gandharvas I am Citraratha, and among perfected beings I am the sage Kapila.” (Bhagavad-gita 10.26)


India is a land that’s bursting with banyan trees around every street and corner, going so far as to make the banyan our national tree. Panchayats meet under a banyan’s shade and shape our towns and villages, yogis meditate under banyans and further our spiritual credit, children play, animals swing from branch to branch, insects and birds are supported. And devotees see Krishna in every banyan. Each banyan is not just an ecosystem, but a culture in itself. 


And then there are the standouts, where Krishna comes alive even more vividly than most other banyans.


About 25 kilometres from Kadiri, a city in Andhra Pradesh, is the Thimmamma Marrimanu. ‘Marri,’ in Telugu, means banyan, and ‘manu’ is tree, meaning Thimmamma’s banyan tree. The story goes that a woman named Thimmamma performed the sati ritual, in the 15th century, at the exact spot where the banyan tree now stands. Among the many reasons this tree is special is the fact that it holds the Guinness World Record for having the largest canopy of any tree in the world, spanning 5.41 acres, which roughly equals to three football fields. 


A mini-forest in itself, it’s actually one tree that has carried on growing and spreading over the past five centuries. (There is some debate about the tree being older and larger, but this article can carry on without needing to delve into those technicalities.) Over the years, the tree has survived cyclones and droughts, and is considered a site of pilgrimage today. Many people visit the tree and the temple it houses, bowing down in front of Thimmamma, believing the tree can bless one with fertility. 


Then there’s the Great Banyan Tree close to Kolkata, in the Acharya Jagadish Chandra Bose Indian Botanic Garden, which spreads over 4.6 acres and attracts tourists from all over the world. On a small island in the Narmada River is the Kabirvad, in Gujarat’s Bharuch district, whose canopy covers over 4.33 acres, where the poet Kabir reportedly lived for many years. And in Karnataka’s Kethohalli village is the Dodda Alada Mara, a banyan spanning 3 acres, home to several monkeys that are happy to snatch food and belongings from tourists.


These are just a few of the many, many banyan trees that have taken root in our land. And all one has to do in the presence of a banyan is remember Krishna. Standing under the canopy of a banyan is like getting a warm hug from Krishna, making a swing from its roots is like playing with Him in Vrindavan and climbing up its branches is like demanding His attention with all the fierceness only a devotee can muster. 


The banyan has much glory and is viewed with reverence by the people of India. Some talk about its massive size and long age. Others focus on the legends surrounding the trees and the local stories and culture tied up with a tree. Those with a more scientific bent meditate on its ferocity, discussing how it’s a strangler fig, growing from seeds that birds have deposited on other trees, by sending their roots down and smothering the host tree. 


All these aspects of banyans are interesting. But the highest observation one can make about them is a spiritual one — that Krishna contains, and is contained in, every single banyan we lay eyes on. Every time we pass a banyan, with its massive canopy and hanging roots, is an opportunity to meditate upon the Supreme, get a glimpse of His vastness and glory, and importantly, recall the lesson He is teaching us through banyans — that this world is temporary.

sri-bhagavan uvaca

urdhva-mulam adhah-sakham

asvattham prahur avyayam

chandamsi yasya parnani

yas tam veda sa veda-vit


“The Supreme Personality of Godhead said: It is said that there is an imperishable banyan tree that has its roots upward and its branches down and whose leaves are the Vedic hymns. One who knows this tree is the knower of the Vedas.” (Bhagavad-gita, 15.1)


If a banyan tree were situated next to a river, that’s how it would appear — with roots going up and branches coming down. But that’s not the tree’s true constitution. It’s a weak reflection of the real thing. In the same way, the world we’re living in, motivated as it is by our material desires, is not the real deal. It’s temporary, one simple breath of Maha-Vishnu, and no better than a meek reflection of our true home, the spiritual world.


In this material world, one who is entangled in desires is going to keep jumping from one branch to the next, going as we are from one responsibility to the next, one body to the next and one planet to the next, the massive banyan tree never running out of temptations that we can run after. But Krishna is here reminding us that this is all a mirage. It’s an illusion, a weak reflection of the real, spiritual world. Further ahead, He explains how by connecting to Him, one can start to detach from the material world, and return to the spiritual world, from where there’s no return and no race against time, since it’s our eternal position.


And if we decide to make it so, walking through the streets of India, from Gujarat to West Bengal and from north to south, can be a constant reminder, not just of Krishna, but also of that most cherished lesson He’s teaching us — that we must do our best to return to Him.


Aarushi is an independent culture journalist with an interest in reading and writing. She has been connected with ISKCON Chowpatty since 2023 and finds deep satisfaction in the association of devotees around her. She’s slowly making sense of Srila Prabhupada’s teachings and learning how to notice Krishna’s presence at the heart of everything and everyone around her