SpiritualThe story of Rukmini also begins in Anadi’s goshala—he was the one who saw her come into this world.
“Rukmini was born in September 2009, the daughter of Dharma and Kartika. She was very close to Sundari and became deeply upset when I gave her to the temple—and even more so when her mother, Kartika, and her other friend, Bhumi, were taken away to be sacrificed because they had supposedly contracted tuberculosis, which was later disproved by the autopsy. But the damage had already been done.
Rukmini always had a rebellious and reserved temperament, like her mother Kartika, but all those circumstances made it worse.
In October 2019, I came to India to stay for six months, and I only had Dharma, the bull, and Rukmini left, who remained under the care of Devarsi Prabhu and Sriji Didi. When Covid arrived in March 2020, I ended up trapped in India for more than two years. Devarsi and Sriji took care of my goshala, which then had only Dharma and Rukmini. But in 2023, Devarsi began working elsewhere, so they gave both animals to the goshala at New Vrajamandala.” —Anadi
That is how Rukmini and Dharma became part of the herd at Rupa Goshala.
Devarsi and Dina Sharana organized the transfer from the field to the goshala—eight hundred meters on foot. However, Rukmini, known as a strong, fiery, and distant cow, was not going to let things go so easily.
Taking Dharma was not a problem, since he was a very tame bull; they tied him and he walked obediently with them. Rukmini, on the other hand, began running all over the field, with everyone chasing her, running among the trees and trying to corner her. When they finally managed to do so, they tied her up, but she still refused to leave her place. She did not like going somewhere unfamiliar without knowing what would happen to her. Yet, forced by circumstances, she began to walk. After about two hundred meters, she stopped and lay down in the middle of the road. She refused to get up, move forward, or turn back.
Seeing this, Dina Sharana untied Rukmini and said, “All right, go wherever you want,” and they took only Dharma.
Rukmini was left alone on the road, in a place unknown to her. At that moment, she gave up her resistance and, on her own, began to follow her father Dharma. Soon they arrived together at the goshala.
When they arrived, the cowherds had prepared a special place for both of them, as they were always together. Father and daughter shared such a deep bond and attachment that they were dependent on one another.
Rukmini Dharma
One day, Dina Sharana noticed that Rukmini’s udders were very large, swollen with milk. Rukmini, to this day, has never been pregnant—yet there she was, ready to be milked. But Rukmini does not allow anyone to come near her; she does not like being touched. Still, she had to be milked. Dina Sharana tells the story of that adventure:
“The udders were too full, but I thought, how am I going to milk her if she wo not let me get close? So I tried, dodging and taking blows from her horns, kicks, and shoves. At that time, she was fourteen years old and had never been milked before. She did not know what it was—never a birth, never a calf. So just touching her udders—which, of course, is a very intimate part for cows—frightened her terribly. Even though I tied her by the horns, she began jumping with her hind legs, moving from side to side, kicking like a karate fighter… she did everything she could. Just milking her took me forty minutes.
The first day was very hard for both of us. She had so much milk that it was clear she had been like that for a while; at first, it came out with blood, and since she had never been milked, it hurt when I pressed. That is how it began, and little by little she calmed down. Later, she started letting herself be touched—not on the face, but on other parts of her body. We kept milking her; she still gives a few kicks at the beginning, but then she relaxes. From the very first day, she gave three liters of milk, and to this day, three years later, she continues to give three liters every day.”
Rukmini was raised with affection—but only as much as she allowed. She lived through experiences and traumas that hardened her nature. She always keeps her distance. She was never docile, nor did she want to be tamed. And yet she offers what she has. She never gave birth, never had a calf, but she gives milk every day. No one demands it of her. She does it because she wants to and because she can. Her body, her energy, her whole being are offered to God. This is her form of bhakti, devotional service—service offered without expectation, without need for reward, and without anyone watching.
What Rukmini gives is not only milk—it is a direct lesson that service does not depend on temperament, past experiences, or comfort. It is the essential function of the soul. And though her body is strong, guarded, and mistrustful, she expresses her love through that silent willingness to give. This is how Krishna’s cows serve. By watching them, we are reminded of who we are and where we should 
be heading.
Rukmini