SRIMAD BHAGAVAD GITA(2nd)-(Gita.2)

SRIMAD BHAGAVAD GITA(2nd)-(Gita.2)

https://youtu.be/d2-41PcDH_0

अथ द्वितीयोऽध्यायः ।   साङ्ख्ययोगः

अथ द्वितीयो‌உध्यायः ।

सञ्जय उवाच ।
तं तथा कृपयाविष्टमश्रुपूर्णाकुलेक्षणम् ।
विषीदन्तमिदं वाक्यमुवाच मधुसूदनः ॥ 1 ॥

श्रीभगवानुवाच ।
कुतस्त्वा कश्मलमिदं विषमे समुपस्थितम् ।
अनार्यजुष्टमस्वर्ग्यमकीर्तिकरमर्जुन ॥ 2 ॥

क्लैब्यं मा स्म गमः पार्थ नैतत्त्वय्युपपद्यते ।
क्षुद्रं हृदयदौर्बल्यं त्यक्त्वोत्तिष्ठ परन्तप ॥ 3 ॥

अर्जुन उवाच ।
कथं भीष्ममहं साङ्ख्ये द्रोणं च मधुसूदन ।
इषुभिः प्रतियोत्स्यामि पूजार्हावरिसूदन ॥ 4 ॥

गुरूनहत्वा हि महानुभावान्श्रेयो भोक्तुं भैक्ष्यमपीह लोके ।
हत्वार्थकामांस्तु गुरुनिहैव भुञ्जीय भोगान्‌உरुधिरप्रदिग्धान् ॥ 5 ॥

न चैतद्विद्मः कतरन्नो गरीयो यद्वा जयेम यदि वा नो जयेयुः ।
यानेव हत्वा न जिजीविषामस्ते‌உवस्थिताः प्रमुखे धार्तराष्ट्राः ॥ 6 ॥

कार्पण्यदोषोपहतस्वभावः पृच्छामि त्वां धर्मसंमूढचेताः ।
यच्छ्रेयः स्यान्निश्चितं ब्रूहि तन्मे शिष्यस्ते‌உहं शाधि मां त्वां प्रपन्नम् ॥ 7 ॥

न हि प्रपश्यामि ममापनुद्याद्यच्छोकमुच्छोषणमिन्द्रियाणाम् ।
अवाप्य भूमावसपत्नमृद्धं राज्यं सुराणामपि चाधिपत्यम् ॥ 8 ॥

सञ्जय उवाच ।
एवमुक्त्वा हृषीकेशं गुडाकेशः परन्तप ।
न योत्स्य इति गोविन्दमुक्त्वा तूष्णीं बभूव ह ॥ 9 ॥

तमुवाच हृषीकेशः प्रहसन्निव भारत ।
सेनयोरुभयोर्मध्ये विषीदन्तमिदं वचः ॥ 10 ॥

श्रीभगवानुवाच ।
अशोच्यानन्वशोचस्त्वं प्रज्ञावादांश्च भाषसे ।
गतासूनगतासूंश्च नानुशोचन्ति पण्डिताः ॥ 11 ॥

न त्वेवाहं जातु नासं न त्वं नेमे जनाधिपाः ।
न चैव न भविष्यामः सर्वे वयमतः परम् ॥ 12 ॥

देहिनो‌உस्मिन्यथा देहे कौमारं यौवनं जरा ।
तथा देहान्तरप्राप्तिर्धीरस्तत्र न मुह्यति ॥ 13 ॥

मात्रास्पर्शास्तु कौन्तेय शीतोष्णसुखदुःखदाः ।
आगमापायिनो‌உनित्यास्तांस्तितिक्षस्व भारत ॥ 14 ॥

यं हि न व्यथयन्त्येते पुरुषं पुरुषर्षभ ।
समदुःखसुखं धीरं सो‌உमृतत्वाय कल्पते ॥ 15 ॥

नासतो विद्यते भावो नाभावो विद्यते सतः ।
उभयोरपि दृष्टो‌உन्तस्त्वनयोस्तत्त्वदर्शिभिः ॥ 16 ॥

अविनाशि तु तद्विद्धि येन सर्वमिदं ततम् ।
विनाशमव्ययस्यास्य न कश्चित्कर्तुमर्हति ॥ 17 ॥

अन्तवन्त इमे देहा नित्यस्योक्ताः शरीरिणः ।
अनाशिनो‌உप्रमेयस्य तस्माद्युध्यस्व भारत ॥ 18 ॥

य एनं वेत्ति हन्तारं यश्चैनं मन्यते हतम् ।
उभौ तौ न विजानीतो नायं हन्ति न हन्यते ॥ 19 ॥

न जायते म्रियते वा कदाचिन्नायं भूत्वा भविता वा न भूयः ।
अजो नित्यः शाश्वतो‌உयं पुराणो न हन्यते हन्यमाने शरीरे ॥ 20 ॥

वेदाविनाशिनं नित्यं य एनमजमव्ययम् ।
अथं स पुरुषः पार्थ कं घातयति हन्ति कम् ॥ 21॥ 
वासांसि जीर्णानि यथा विहाय नवानि गृह्णाति नरो‌உपराणि ।
तथा शरीराणि विहाय जीर्णान्यन्यानि संयाति नवानि देही ॥ 22 ॥

नैनं छिन्दन्ति शस्त्राणि नैनं दहति पावकः ।
न चैनं क्लेदयन्त्यापो न शोषयति मारुतः ॥ 23 ॥

अच्छेद्यो‌உयमदाह्यो‌உयमक्लेद्यो‌உशोष्य एव च ।
नित्यः सर्वगतः स्थाणुरचलो‌உयं सनातनः ॥ 24 ॥

अव्यक्तो‌உयमचिन्त्यो‌உयमविकार्यो‌உयमुच्यते ।
तस्मादेवं विदित्वैनं नानुशोचितुमर्हसि ॥ 25 ॥

अथ चैनं नित्यजातं नित्यं वा मन्यसे मृतम् ।
तथापि त्वं महाबाहो नैवं शोचितुमर्हसि ॥ 26 ॥

जातस्य हि ध्रुवो मृत्युर्ध्रुवं जन्म मृतस्य च ।
तस्मादपरिहार्ये‌உर्थे न त्वं शोचितुमर्हसि ॥ 27 ॥

अव्यक्तादीनि भूतानि व्यक्तमध्यानि भारत ।
अव्यक्तनिधनान्येव तत्र का परिदेवना ॥ 28 ॥

आश्चर्यवत्पश्यति कश्चिदेनमाश्चर्यवद्वदति तथैव चान्यः ।
आश्चर्यवच्चैनमन्यः शृणोति श्रुत्वाप्येनं वेद न चैव कश्चित् ॥ 29 ॥

देही नित्यमवध्यो‌உयं देहे सर्वस्य भारत ।
तस्मात्सर्वाणि भूतानि न त्वं शोचितुमर्हसि ॥ 30 ॥

स्वधर्ममपि चावेक्ष्य न विकम्पितुमर्हसि ।
धर्म्याद्धि युद्धाच्छ्रेयो‌உन्यत्क्षत्रियस्य न विद्यते ॥ 31 ॥

यदृच्छया चोपपन्नं स्वर्गद्वारमपावृतम् ।
सुखिनः क्षत्रियाः पार्थ लभन्ते युद्धमीदृशम् ॥ 32 ॥

अथ चेत्त्वमिमं धर्म्यं सङ्ग्रामं न करिष्यसि ।
ततः स्वधर्मं कीर्तिं च हित्वा पापमवाप्स्यसि ॥ 33 ॥

अकीर्तिं चापि भूतानि कथयिष्यन्ति ते‌உव्ययाम् ।
सम्भावितस्य चाकीर्तिर्मरणादतिरिच्यते ॥ 34 ॥

भयाद्रणादुपरतं मंस्यन्ते त्वां महारथाः ।
येषां च त्वं बहुमतो भूत्वा यास्यसि लाघवम् ॥ 35 ॥

अवाच्यवादांश्च बहून्वदिष्यन्ति तवाहिताः ।
निन्दन्तस्तव सामर्थ्यं ततो दुःखतरं नु किम् ॥ 36 ॥

हतो वा प्राप्स्यसि स्वर्गं जित्वा वा भोक्ष्यसे महीम् ।
तस्मादुत्तिष्ठ कौन्तेय युद्धाय कृतनिश्चयः ॥ 37 ॥

सुखदुःखे समे कृत्वा लाभालाभौ जयाजयौ ।
ततो युद्धाय युज्यस्व नैवं पापमवाप्स्यसि ॥ 38 ॥

एषा ते‌உभिहिता साङ्ख्ये बुद्धिर्योगे त्विमां शृणु ।
बुद्ध्या युक्तो यया पार्थ कर्मबन्धं प्रहास्यसि ॥ 39 ॥

नेहाभिक्रमनाशो‌உस्ति प्रत्यवायो न विद्यते ।
स्वल्पमप्यस्य धर्मस्य त्रायते महतो भयात् ॥ 40 ॥

व्यवसायात्मिका बुद्धिरेकेह कुरुनन्दन ।
बहुशाखा ह्यनन्ताश्च बुद्धयो‌உव्यवसायिनाम् ॥ 41 ॥

यामिमां पुष्पितां वाचं प्रवदन्त्यविपश्चितः ।
वेदवादरताः पार्थ नान्यदस्तीति वादिनः ॥ 42 ॥

कामात्मानः स्वर्गपरा जन्मकर्मफलप्रदाम् ।
क्रियाविशेषबहुलां भोगैश्वर्यगतिं प्रति ॥ 43 ॥

भोगैश्वर्यप्रसक्तानां तयापहृतचेतसाम् ।
व्यवसायात्मिका बुद्धिः समाधौ न विधीयते ॥ 44 ॥

त्रैगुण्यविषया वेदा निस्त्रैगुण्यो भवार्जुन ।
निर्द्वन्द्वो नित्यसत्त्वस्थो निर्योगक्षेम आत्मवान् ॥ 45 ॥

यावानर्थ उदपाने सर्वतः सम्प्लुतोदके ।
तावान्सर्वेषु वेदेषु ब्राह्मणस्य विजानतः ॥ 46 ॥

कर्मण्येवाधिकारस्ते मा फलेषु कदाचन ।
मा कर्मफलहेतुर्भूर्मा ते सङ्गो‌உस्त्वकर्मणि ॥ 47 ॥

योगस्थः कुरु कर्माणि सङ्गं त्यक्त्वा धनञ्जय ।
सिद्ध्यसिद्ध्योः समो भूत्वा समत्वं योग उच्यते ॥ 48 ॥

दूरेण ह्यवरं कर्म बुद्धियोगाद्धनञ्जय ।
बुद्धौ शरणमन्विच्छ कृपणाः फलहेतवः ॥ 49 ॥

बुद्धियुक्तो जहातीह उभे सुकृतदुष्कृते ।
तस्माद्योगाय युज्यस्व योगः कर्मसु कौशलम् ॥ 50 ॥

कर्मजं बुद्धियुक्ता हि फलं त्यक्त्वा मनीषिणः ।
जन्मबन्धविनिर्मुक्ताः पदं गच्छन्त्यनामयम् ॥ 51 ॥

यदा ते मोहकलिलं बुद्धिर्व्यतितरिष्यति ।
तदा गन्तासि निर्वेदं श्रोतव्यस्य श्रुतस्य च ॥ 52 ॥

श्रुतिविप्रतिपन्ना ते यदा स्थास्यति निश्चला ।
समाधावचला बुद्धिस्तदा योगमवाप्स्यसि ॥ 53 ॥

अर्जुन उवाच ।
स्थितप्रज्ञस्य का भाषा समाधिस्थस्य केशव ।
स्थितधीः किं प्रभाषेत किमासीत व्रजेत किम् ॥ 54 ॥

श्रीभगवानुवाच ।
प्रजहाति यदा कामान्सर्वान्पार्थ मनोगतान् ।
आत्मन्येवात्मना तुष्टः स्थितप्रज्ञस्तदोच्यते ॥ 55 ॥

दुःखेष्वनुद्विग्नमनाः सुखेषु विगतस्पृहः ।
वीतरागभयक्रोधः स्थितधीर्मुनिरुच्यते ॥ 56 ॥

यः सर्वत्रानभिस्नेहस्तत्तत्प्राप्य शुभाशुभम् ।
नाभिनन्दति न द्वेष्टि तस्य प्रज्ञा प्रतिष्ठिता ॥ 57 ॥

यदा संहरते चायं कूर्मो‌உङ्गानीव सर्वशः ।
इन्द्रियाणीन्द्रियार्थेभ्यस्तस्य प्रज्ञा प्रतिष्ठिता ॥ 58 ॥

विषया विनिवर्तन्ते निराहारस्य देहिनः ।
रसवर्जं रसो‌உप्यस्य परं दृष्ट्वा निवर्तते ॥ 59 ॥

यततो ह्यपि कौन्तेय पुरुषस्य विपश्चितः ।
इन्द्रियाणि प्रमाथीनि हरन्ति प्रसभं मनः ॥ 60 ॥

तानि सर्वाणि संयम्य युक्त आसीत मत्परः ।
वशे हि यस्येन्द्रियाणि तस्य प्रज्ञा प्रतिष्ठिता ॥ 61 ॥

ध्यायतो विषयान्पुंसः सङ्गस्तेषूपजायते ।
सङ्गात्सञ्जायते कामः कामात्क्रोधो‌உभिजायते ॥ 62 ॥

क्रोधाद्भवति संमोहः संमोहात्स्मृतिविभ्रमः ।
स्मृतिभ्रंशाद्बुद्धिनाशो बुद्धिनाशात्प्रणश्यति ॥ 63 ॥

रागद्वेषविमुक्तैस्तु विषयानिन्द्रियैश्चरन् ।
आत्मवश्यैर्विधेयात्मा प्रसादमधिगच्छति ॥ 64 ॥

प्रसादे सर्वदुःखानां हानिरस्योपजायते ।
प्रसन्नचेतसो ह्याशु बुद्धिः पर्यवतिष्ठते ॥ 65 ॥

नास्ति बुद्धिरयुक्तस्य न चायुक्तस्य भावना ।
न चाभावयतः शान्तिरशान्तस्य कुतः सुखम् ॥ 66 ॥

इन्द्रियाणां हि चरतां यन्मनो‌உनुविधीयते ।
तदस्य हरति प्रज्ञां वायुर्नावमिवाम्भसि ॥ 67 ॥



तस्माद्यस्य महाबाहो निगृहीतानि सर्वशः ।
इन्द्रियाणीन्द्रियार्थेभ्यस्तस्य प्रज्ञा प्रतिष्ठिता ॥ 68 ॥

या निशा सर्वभूतानां तस्यां जागर्ति संयमी ।
यस्यां जाग्रति भूतानि सा निशा पश्यतो मुनेः ॥ 69 ॥

आपूर्यमाणमचलप्रतिष्ठं समुद्रमापः प्रविशन्ति यद्वत् ।
तद्वत्कामा यं प्रविशन्ति सर्वे स शान्तिमाप्नोति न कामकामी ॥ 70 ॥

विहाय कामान्यः सर्वान्पुमांश्चरति निःस्पृहः ।
निर्ममो निरहङ्कारः स शान्तिमधिगच्छति ॥ 71 ॥

एषा ब्राह्मी स्थितिः पार्थ नैनां प्राप्य विमुह्यति ।
स्थित्वास्यामन्तकाले‌உपि ब्रह्मनिर्वाणमृच्छति ॥ 72 ॥

ॐ तत्सदिति श्रीमद्भगवद्गीतासूपनिषत्सु ब्रह्मविद्यायां योगशास्त्रे श्रीकृष्णार्जुनसंवादे


साङ्ख्ययोगो नाम द्वितीयो‌உध्यायः ॥2 ॥

==
https://youtu.be/1BoV-D4ZQ1Y










II



Sankhya Yoga



Summary of Second Discourse


Sanjaya explains the condition of Arjuna, who was agitated due to attachment and fear.

Lord Krishna rebukes him for his dejection, which was due to Moha or attachment, and exhorts him to fight. After failing to convince Sri Krishna through his seemingly wise thoughts, Arjuna realises his helplessness and surrenders himself completely to the Lord, seeking His guidance to get over the conflict of his mind.

The Lord takes pity on him and proceeds to enlighten him by various means. He explains to Arjuna the imperishable nature of the Atman, for which there is no past, present and future. The Atman never dies, therefore Arjuna should not grieve. As It transcends the five elements, namely, earth, water, fire, air and ether, It cannot be cut, burnt or dried. It is unchanging and eternal.

Everyone experiences conditions like pleasure and pain, heat and cold, due to contact of objects with the senses. The senses carry the sensations through the nerves to the mind. One should be able to withdraw the senses from objects, like the tortoise which withdraws all its limbs within. Krishna asserts that only one who has the capacity to be balanced in pleasure and pain alike is fit for immortality.

Krishna goes on to tell Arjuna that if he refuses to fight and flees from the battle, people will be justified in condemning such action as unworthy of a warrior.

Having taught Arjuna the immortal nature of the Atman, Lord Krishna turns to the performance of action without expectation of fruit. A man should not concern himself about the fruit of the action, like gain and loss, victory and defeat. These are in the hands of the Lord. He should perform all action with a balanced mind, calmly enduring the pairs of opposites like heat and cold, pleasure and pain, that inevitably manifest during action. Krishna advises Arjuna to fight, free from desire for acquisition of kingdom or preservation of it.

Arjuna is eager to know the characteristics of a man who has a stable mind. Such a person, Krishna tells him, will have no desires at all. Since he is content within, having realised the Self, he is entirely free from desires. The consciousness of the Atman and abandonment of desires are simultaneous experiences. The various qualities of a Sthitaprajna (a stable-minded person) are described by the Lord. He will not be affected by adversity and will have no fear or anger. He will take things as they come, and will not have any likes and dislikes. He will neither hug the world nor hate it.

The man of stable mind will have perfect control of the senses. The senses are powerful and draw the mind outwards. One should therefore turn one’s gaze within and realise God who resides in the heart. The Yogi, having achieved a stable mind, remains steadfast even though all sense-objects come to him. He is unmoved and lives a life of eternal peace.

Krishna concludes that the eternal Brahmic state frees one from delusion forever. Even at the end of life, when one departs from this body, one does not lose consciousness of one’s identity with Brahman.


Sanjaya Uvaacha:
Tam tathaa kripayaavishtam ashrupoornaakulekshanam; 
Visheedantam idam vaakyam uvaacha madhusoodanah.


Sanjaya said:

1. To him who was thus overcome with pity and who was despondent, with eyes full of tears and agitated, Krishna or Madhusudana (the destroyer of Madhu), spoke these words.

Sri Bhagavaan Uvaacha:
Kutastwaa kashmalam idam vishame samupasthitam; 
Anaaryajushtam aswargyam akeertikaram arjuna.


The Blessed Lord said:

2. Whence is this perilous strait come upon thee, this dejection which is unworthy of thee, disgraceful, and which will close the gates of heaven upon thee, O Arjuna?
Klaibyam maa sma gamah paartha naitat twayyupapadyate; 
Kshudram hridaya daurbalyam tyaktwottishtha parantapa.


3. Yield not to impotence, O Arjuna, son of Pritha! It does not befit thee. Cast off this mean weakness of the heart. Stand up, O scorcher of foes!

Arjuna Uvaacha:
Katham bheeshmamaham sankhye dronam cha madhusoodana; 
Ishubhih pratiyotsyaami poojaarhaavarisoodana.


Arjuna said:

4. How, O Madhusudana, shall I fight in battle with arrows against Bhishma and Drona, who are fit to be worshipped, O destroyer of enemies?
Guroon ahatwaa hi mahaanubhaavaan 
    Shreyo bhoktum bhaikshyam apeeha loke; 
Hatwaarthakaamaamstu guroon ihaiva 
    Bhunjeeya bhogaan rudhirapradigdhaan.


5. Better it is, indeed, in this world to accept alms than to slay the most noble teachers. But if I kill them, even in this world all my enjoyments of wealth and desires will be stained with (their) blood.
Na chaitad vidmah kataran no gareeyo 
    Yadwaa jayema yadi vaa no jayeyuh; 
Yaan eva hatwaa na jijeevishaamas 
    Te’vasthitaah pramukhe dhaartaraashtraah.


6. I can hardly tell which will be better: that we should conquer them or they should conquer us. Even the sons of Dhritarashtra, after slaying whom we do not wish to live, stand facing us.
Kaarpanyadoshopahataswabhaavah 
    Pricchaami twaam dharmasammoodha chetaah; 
Yacchreyah syaan nishchitam broohi tanme 
    Shishyaste’ham shaadhi maam twaam prapannam.


7. My heart is overpowered by the taint of pity, my mind is confused as to duty. I ask Thee: tell me decisively what is good for me. I am Thy disciple. Instruct me who has taken refuge in Thee.
Na hi prapashyaami mamaapanudyaad 
    Yacchokam ucchoshanam indriyaanaam; 
Avaapya bhoomaavasapatnam riddham 
    Raajyam suraanaam api chaadhipatyam.


8. I do not see that it would remove this sorrow that burns up my senses even if I should attain prosperous and unrivalled dominion on earth or lordship over the gods.

Sanjaya Uvaacha:
Evam uktwaa hrisheekesham gudaakeshah parantapah; 
Na yotsya iti govindam uktwaa tooshneem babhoova ha.


Sanjaya said:

9. Having spoken thus to Hrishikesa (Lord of the senses), Arjuna (the conqueror of sleep), the destroyer of foes, said to Krishna: “I will not fight,” and became silent.
Tam uvaacha hrisheekeshah prahasanniva bhaarata; 
Senayor ubhayor madhye visheedantam idam vachah.


10. To him who was despondent in the midst of the two armies, Sri Krishna, as if smiling, O Bharata, spoke these words!

Sri Bhagavaan Uvaacha:
Ashochyaan anvashochastwam prajnaavaadaamshcha bhaashase; 
Gataasoon agataasoomshcha naanushochanti panditaah.


The Blessed Lord said:

11. Thou hast grieved for those that should not be grieved for, yet thou speakest words of wisdom. The wise grieve neither for the living nor for the dead.
Na twevaaham jaatu naasam na twam neme janaadhipaah; 
Na chaiva na bhavishyaamah sarve vayam atah param.


12. Nor at any time indeed was I not, nor these rulers of men, nor verily shall we ever cease to be hereafter.
Dehino’smin yathaa dehe kaumaaram yauvanam jaraa; 
Tathaa dehaantara praaptir dheeras tatra na muhyati.


13. Just as in this body the embodied (soul) passes into childhood, youth and old age, so also does he pass into another body; the firm man does not grieve thereat.
Maatraasparshaastu kaunteya sheetoshnasukhaduhkhadaah; 
Aagamaapaayino’nityaas taamstitikshaswa bhaarata.


14. The contacts of the senses with the objects, O son of Kunti, which cause heat and cold and pleasure and pain, have a beginning and an end; they are impermanent; endure them bravely, O Arjuna!
Yam hi na vyathayantyete purusham purusharshabha; 
Samaduhkha sukham dheeram so’mritatwaaya kalpate.


15. That firm man whom surely these afflict not, O chief among men, to whom pleasure and pain are the same, is fit for attaining immortality!
Naasato vidyate bhaavo naabhaavo vidyate satah; 
Ubhayorapi drishto’ntastwanayos tattwadarshibhih.


16. The unreal hath no being; there is no non-being of the Real; the truth about both has been seen by the knowers of the Truth (or the seers of the Essence).

COMMENTARY: What is changing must always be unreal. What is constant or permanent must always be real. The Atman or the eternal, all-pervading Self ever exists. It is the only Reality. This phenomenal world of names and forms is ever changing. Names and forms are subject to decay and death. Hence they are unreal or impermanent.
Avinaashi tu tad viddhi yena sarvam idam tatam; 
Vinaasham avyayasyaasya na kashchit kartum arhati.


17. Know That to be indestructible, by whom all this is pervaded. None can cause the destruction of That, the Imperishable.

COMMENTARY: The Self pervades all objects like ether. Even if the pot is broken, the ether that is within and without it cannot be destroyed. Similarly, if the bodies and all other objects perish, the eternal Self that pervades them cannot be destroyed; It is the living Truth.
Antavanta ime dehaa nityasyoktaah shareerinah; 
Anaashino’prameyasya tasmaad yudhyaswa bhaarata.


18. These bodies of the embodied Self, which is eternal, indestructible and immeasurable, are said to have an end. Therefore, fight, O Arjuna!
Ya enam vetti hantaaram yashchainam manyate hatam; 
Ubhau tau na vijaaneeto naayam hanti na hanyate.


19. He who takes the Self to be the slayer and he who thinks He is slain, neither of them knows; He slays not nor is He slain.
Na jaayate mriyate vaa kadaachin 
    Naayam bhootwaa bhavitaa vaa na bhooyah; 
Ajo nityah shaashwato’yam puraano 
    Na hanyate hanyamaane shareere.


20. He is not born nor does He ever die; after having been, He again ceases not to be. Unborn, eternal, changeless and ancient, He is not killed when the body is killed,
Vedaavinaashinam nityam ya enam ajam avyayam; 
Katham sa purushah paartha kam ghaatayati hanti kam.


21. Whosoever knows Him to be indestructible, eternal, unborn and inexhaustible, how can that man slay, O Arjuna, or cause to be slain?
Vaasaamsi jeernaani yathaa vihaaya 
    Navaani grihnaati naro’paraani; 
Tathaa shareeraani vihaaya jeernaa 
    Nyanyaani samyaati navaani dehee.


22. Just as a man casts off worn-out clothes and puts on new ones, so also the embodied Self casts off worn-out bodies and enters others that are new.
Nainam cchindanti shastraani nainam dahati paavakah; 
Na chainam kledayantyaapo na shoshayati maarutah.


23. Weapons cut It not, fire burns It not, water wets It not, wind dries It not.

COMMENTARY: The Self is partless. It is infinite and extremely subtle. So the sword cannot cut It, fire cannot burn It, wind cannot dry It.
Acchedyo’yam adaahyo’yam akledyo’shoshya eva cha; 
Nityah sarvagatah sthaanur achalo’yam sanaatanah.


24. This Self cannot be cut, burnt, wetted nor dried up. It is eternal, all-pervading, stable, ancient and immovable.
Avyakto’yam achintyo’yam avikaaryo’yam uchyate; 
Tasmaad evam viditwainam naanushochitum arhasi.


25. This (Self) is said to be unmanifested, unthinkable and unchangeable. Therefore, knowing This to be such, thou shouldst not grieve.
Atha chainam nityajaatam nityam vaa manyase mritam; 
Tathaapi twam mahaabaaho naivam shochitum arhasi.


26. But, even if thou thinkest of It as being constantly born and dying, even then, O mighty-armed, thou shouldst not grieve!

COMMENTARY: Birth is inevitable to what is dead and death is inevitable to what is born. This is the law of Nature. Therefore, one should not grieve.
Jaatasya hi dhruvo mrityur dhruvam janma mritasya cha; 
Tasmaad aparihaarye’rthe na twam shochitum arhasi.


27. For, certain is death for the born and certain is birth for the dead; therefore, over the inevitable thou shouldst not grieve.
Avyaktaadeeni bhootaani vyaktamadhyaani bhaarata; 
Avyakta nidhanaanyeva tatra kaa paridevanaa.


28. Beings are unmanifested in their beginning, manifested in their middle state, O Arjuna, and unmanifested again in their end! What is there to grieve about?

COMMENTARY: The physical body is a combination of the five elements. It is perceived by the physical eye only after the five elements have entered into such combination. After death the body disintegrates and all the five elements return to their source. The body cannot be perceived now. It can be perceived only in the middle state. He who understands the nature of the body and human relationships based upon it will not grieve.
Aashcharyavat pashyati kashchid enam 
    Aashcharyavad vadati tathaiva chaanyah; 
Aashcharyavacchainam anyah shrinoti 
    Shrutwaapyenam veda na chaiva kashchit.


29. One sees This (the Self) as a wonder; another speaks of It as a wonder; another hears of It as a wonder; yet, having heard, none understands It at all.

COMMENTARY: The verse may also be interpreted in this manner: he that sees, hears and speaks of the Self is a wonderful man. Such a man is very rare. He is one among many thousands. Therefore, the Self is very hard to understand.
Dehee nityam avadhyo’yam dehe sarvasya bhaarata; 
Tasmaat sarvaani bhootaani na twam shochitum arhasi.


30. This, the Indweller in the body of everyone, is always indestructible, O Arjuna! Therefore, thou shouldst not grieve for any creature.
Swadharmam api chaavekshya na vikampitum arhasi; 
Dharmyaaddhi yuddhaacchreyo’nyat kshatriyasya na vidyate.


31. Further, having regard to thy own duty, thou shouldst not waver, for there is nothing higher for a Kshatriya than a righteous war.

COMMENTARY: To a Kshatriya (one born in the warrior or ruling class) nothing is more welcome than a righteous war.
Yadricchayaa chopapannam swargadwaaram apaavritam; 
Sukhinah kshatriyaah paartha labhante yuddham eedrisham.


32. Happy are the Kshatriyas, O Arjuna, who are called upon to fight in such a battle that comes of itself as an open door to heaven!

COMMENTARY: The scriptures declare that if a warrior dies for a righteous cause on the battlefield he at once ascends to heaven.
Atha chettwam imam dharmyam samgraamam na karishyasi; 
Tatah swadharmam keertim cha hitwaa paapam avaapsyasi.


33. But, if thou wilt not fight in this righteous war, then, having abandoned thine duty and fame, thou shalt incur sin.
Akeertim chaapi bhootaani kathayishyanti te’vyayaam; 
Sambhaavitasya chaakeertir maranaad atirichyate.


34. People, too, will recount thy everlasting dishonour; and to one who has been honoured, dishonour is worse than death.
Bhayaad ranaad uparatam mamsyante twaam mahaarathaah; 
Yeshaam cha twam bahumato bhootwaa yaasyasi laaghavam.


35. The great car-warriors will think that thou hast withdrawn from the battle through fear; and thou wilt be lightly held by them who have thought much of thee.
Avaachyavaadaamshcha bahoon vadishyanti tavaahitaah; 
Nindantastava saamarthyam tato duhkhataram nu kim.


36. Thy enemies also, cavilling at thy power, will speak many abusive words. What is more painful than this!
Hato vaa praapsyasi swargam jitwaa vaa bhokshyase maheem; 
Tasmaad uttishtha kaunteya yuddhaaya kritanishchayah.


37. Slain, thou wilt obtain heaven; victorious, thou wilt enjoy the earth; therefore, stand up, O son of Kunti, resolved to fight!
Sukhaduhkhe same kritwaa laabhaalaabhau jayaajayau; 
Tato yuddhaaya yujyaswa naivam paapamavaapsyasi.


38. Having made pleasure and pain, gain and loss, victory and defeat the same, engage thou in battle for the sake of battle; thus thou shalt not incur sin.

COMMENTARY: This is the Yoga of equanimity or the doctrine of poise in action. If a person performs actions with the above mental attitude, he will not reap the fruits of such actions.
Eshaa te’bhihitaa saankhye buddhir yoge twimaam shrinu; 
Buddhyaa yukto yayaa paartha karma bandham prahaasyasi.


39. This which has been taught to thee, is wisdom concerning Sankhya. Now listen to wisdom concerning Yoga, endowed with which, O Arjuna, thou shalt cast off the bonds of action!
Nehaabhikramanaasho’sti pratyavaayo na vidyate; 
Swalpam apyasya dharmasya traayate mahato bhayaat.


40. In this there is no loss of effort, nor is there any harm (the production of contrary results or transgression). Even a little of this knowledge (even a little practice of this Yoga) protects one from great fear.

COMMENTARY: In Karma Yoga (selfless action) even a little effort brings immediate purification of the heart. Purification of the heart leads to fearlessness.
Vyavasaayaatmikaa buddhir ekeha kurunandana; 
Bahushaakhaa hyanantaashcha buddhayo’vyavasaayinaam.


41. Here, O joy of the Kurus, there is a single one-pointed determination! Many-branched and endless are the thoughts of the irresolute.
Yaam imaam pushpitaam vaacham pravadantyavipashchitah; 
Vedavaadarataah paartha naanyad asteeti vaadinah.


42. Flowery speech is uttered by the unwise, who take pleasure in the eulogising words of the Vedas, O Arjuna, saying: “There is nothing else!”

COMMENTARY: Unwise people who lack discrimination place great stress upon the Karma Kanda or ritualistic portion of the Vedas which lays down specific rules for specific actions for the attainment of specific fruit. They extol these actions and rewards unduly.
Kaamaatmaanah swargaparaa janmakarmaphalapradaam; 
Kriyaavisheshabahulaam bhogaishwaryagatim prati.


43. Full of desires, having heaven as their goal, they utter speech which promises birth as the reward of one’s actions, and prescribe various specific actions for the attainment of pleasure and power.
Bhogaishwarya prasaktaanaam tayaapahritachetasaam; 
Vyavasaayaatmikaa buddhih samaadhau na vidheeyate.


44. For those who are much attached to pleasure and to power, whose minds are drawn away by such teaching, that determinate faculty is not manifest that is steadily bent on meditation and Samadhi (the state of Superconsciousness).
Traigunyavishayaa vedaa nistraigunyo bhavaarjuna; 
Nirdwandwo nityasatwastho niryogakshema aatmavaan.


45. The Vedas deal with the three attributes (of Nature); be thou above these three attributes, O Arjuna! Free yourself from the pairs of opposites and ever remain in the quality of Sattwa (goodness), freed from the thought of acquisition and preservation, and be established in the Self.

COMMENTARY: Guna means attribute or quality. It is substance as well as quality. Nature is made up of three Gunas—Sattwa (purity, light, harmony), Rajas (passion, restlessness, motion), and Tamas (inertia, darkness). The pairs of opposites are pleasure and pain, heat and cold, gain and loss, victory and defeat, honour and dishonour, praise and censure.
Yaavaanartha udapaane sarvatah samplutodake; 
Taavaan sarveshu vedeshu braahmanasya vijaanatah.


46. To the Brahmana who has known the Self, all the Vedas are of as much use as is a reservoir of water in a place where there is a flood.

COMMENTARY: Only for a sage who has realised the Self are the Vedas of no use, because he is in possession of knowledge of the Self. This does not, however, mean that the Vedas are useless. They are useful for neophytes or aspirants who have just started on the spiritual path.
Karmanyevaadhikaaraste maa phaleshu kadaachana; 
Maa karmaphalahetur bhoor maa te sango’stwakarmani.


47. Thy right is to work only, but never with its fruits; let not the fruits of actions be thy motive, nor let thy attachment be to inaction.

COMMENTARY: Actions done with expectation of its rewards bring bondage. If you do not thirst for them, you get purification of heart and ultimately knowledge of the Self.
Yogasthah kuru karmaani sangam tyaktwaa dhananjaya; 
Siddhyasiddhyoh samo bhootwaa samatwam yoga uchyate.


48. Perform action, O Arjuna, being steadfast in Yoga, abandoning attachment and balanced in success and failure! Evenness of mind is called Yoga.
Doorena hyavaram karma buddhiyogaad dhananjaya; 
Buddhau sharanamanwiccha kripanaah phalahetavah.


49. Far lower than the Yoga of wisdom is action, O Arjuna! Seek thou refuge in wisdom; wretched are they whose motive is the fruit.

COMMENTARY: Actions done with evenness of mind is the Yoga of wisdom. Actions performed by one who expects their fruits are far inferior to the Yoga of wisdom wherein the seeker does not seek the fruits. The former leads to bondage, and is the cause of birth and death.
Buddhiyukto jahaateeha ubhe sukrita dushkrite; 
Tasmaad yogaaya yujyaswa yogah karmasu kaushalam.


50. Endowed with wisdom (evenness of mind), one casts off in this life both good and evil deeds; therefore, devote thyself to Yoga; Yoga is skill in action.

COMMENTARY: Actions which are of a binding nature lose that nature when performed with equanimity of mind.
Karmajam buddhiyuktaa hi phalam tyaktwaa maneeshinah; 
Janmabandha vinirmuktaah padam gacchantyanaamayam.


51. The wise, possessed of knowledge, having abandoned the fruits of their actions, and being freed from the fetters of birth, go to the place which is beyond all evil.

COMMENTARY: Clinging to the fruits of actions is the cause of rebirth. Man has to take a body to enjoy them. If actions are done for the sake of God, without desire for the fruits, one is released from the bonds of birth and death and attains to immortal bliss.
Yadaa te mohakalilam buddhir vyatitarishyati; 
Tadaa gantaasi nirvedam shrotavyasya shrutasya cha.


52. When thy intellect crosses beyond the mire of delusion, then thou shalt attain to indifference as to what has been heard and what has yet to be heard.

COMMENTARY: The mire of delusion is identification of the Self with the body and mind.
Shrutivipratipannaa te yadaa sthaasyati nishchalaa; 
Samaadhaavachalaa buddhistadaa yogam avaapsyasi.


53. When thy intellect, perplexed by what thou hast heard, shall stand immovable and steady in the Self, then thou shalt attain Self-realisation.

Arjuna Uvaacha:
Sthitaprajnasya kaa bhaashaa samaadhisthasya keshava; 
Sthitadheeh kim prabhaasheta kimaaseeta vrajeta kim.


Arjuna said:

54. What, O Krishna, is the description of him who has steady wisdom and is merged in the Superconscious State? How does one of steady wisdom speak? How does he sit? How does he walk?

Sri Bhagavaan Uvaacha:
Prajahaati yadaa kaamaan sarvaan paartha manogataan; 
Aatmanyevaatmanaa tushtah sthitaprajnastadochyate.


The Blessed Lord said:

55. When a man completely casts off, O Arjuna, all the desires of the mind and is satisfied in the Self by the Self, then is he said to be one of steady wisdom!

COMMENTARY: All the pleasures of the world are worthless to an illumined sage who is ever content in the immortal Self.
Duhkheshwanudwignamanaah sukheshu vigatasprihah; 
Veetaraagabhayakrodhah sthitadheer munir uchyate.


56. He whose mind is not shaken by adversity, who does not hanker after pleasures, and who is free from attachment, fear and anger, is called a sage of steady wisdom.
Yah sarvatraanabhisnehas tattat praapya shubhaashubham; 
Naabhinandati na dweshti tasya prajnaa pratishthitaa.


57. He who is everywhere without attachment, on meeting with anything good or bad, who neither rejoices nor hates, his wisdom is fixed.
Yadaa samharate chaayam kurmo’ngaaneeva sarvashah; 
Indriyaaneendriyaarthebhyas tasya prajnaa pratishthitaa.


58. When, like the tortoise which withdraws its limbs on all sides, he withdraws his senses from the sense-objects, then his wisdom becomes steady.
Vishayaa vinivartante niraahaarasya dehinah 
Rasavarjam raso’pyasya param drishtwaa nivartate.


59. The objects of the senses turn away from the abstinent man, leaving the longing (behind); but his longing also turns away on seeing the Supreme.
Yatato hyapi kaunteya purushasya vipashchitah; 
Indriyaani pramaatheeni haranti prasabham manah.


60. The turbulent senses, O Arjuna, do violently carry away the mind of a wise man though he be striving (to control them)!
Taani sarvaani samyamya yukta aaseeta matparah; 
Vashe hi yasyendriyaani tasya prajnaa pratishthitaa.


61. Having restrained them all he should sit steadfast, intent on Me; his wisdom is steady whose senses are under control.
Dhyaayato vishayaan pumsah sangas teshupajaayate; 
Sangaat sanjaayate kaamah kaamaat krodho’bhijaayate.


62. When a man thinks of the objects, attachment to them arises; from attachment desire is born; from desire anger arises.
Krodhaad bhavati sammohah sammohaat smriti vibhramah; 
Smritibhramshaad buddhinaasho buddhinaashaat pranashyati.


63. From anger comes delusion; from delusion the loss of memory; from loss of memory the destruction of discrimination; from the destruction of discrimination he perishes.
Raagadwesha viyuktaistu vishayaanindriyaishcharan; 
Aatmavashyair vidheyaatmaa prasaadamadhigacchati.


64. But the self-controlled man, moving amongst objects with the senses under restraint, and free from attraction and repulsion, attains to peace.
Prasaade sarvaduhkhaanaam haanir asyopajaayate; 
Prasannachetaso hyaashu buddhih paryavatishthate.


65. In that peace all pains are destroyed, for the intellect of the tranquil-minded soon becomes steady.

COMMENTARY: When peace is attained all miseries end.
Naasti buddhir ayuktasya na chaayuktasya bhaavanaa; 
Na chaabhaavayatah shaantir ashaantasya kutah sukham.


66. There is no knowledge of the Self to the unsteady, and to the unsteady no meditation is possible; and to the un-meditative there can be no peace; and to the man who has no peace, how can there be happiness?
Indriyaanaam hi charataam yanmano’nuvidheeyate; 
Tadasya harati prajnaam vaayur naavam ivaambhasi.


67. For the mind which follows in the wake of the wandering senses, carries away his discrimination as the wind (carries away) a boat on the waters.
Tasmaad yasya mahaabaaho nigriheetaani sarvashah; 
Indriyaaneendriyaarthebhyas tasya prajnaa pratishthitaa.


68. Therefore, O mighty-armed Arjuna, his knowledge is steady whose senses are completely restrained from sense-objects!
Yaanishaa sarvabhootaanaam tasyaam jaagarti samyamee; 
Yasyaam jaagrati bhootaani saa nishaa pashyato muneh.


69. That which is night to all beings, then the self-controlled man is awake; when all beings are awake, that is night for the sage who sees.

COMMENTARY: The sage lives in the Self; this is day to him. He is unconscious of worldly phenomena; this is like night to him. The ordinary man is unconscious of his real nature. So life in the Self is like night to him. He experiences sense-objects; this is day to him.
Aapooryamaanam achalapratishtham 
    Samudram aapah pravishanti yadwat; 
Tadwat kaamaa yam pravishanti sarve 
    Sa shaantim aapnoti na kaamakaami.


70. He attains peace into whom all desires enter as waters enter the ocean, which, filled from all sides, remains unmoved; but not the man who is full of desires.
Vihaaya kaamaan yah sarvaan pumaamshcharati nihsprihah; 
Nirmamo nirahankaarah sa shaantim adhigacchati.


71. The man attains peace, who, abandoning all desires, moves about without longing, without the sense of mine and without egoism.
Eshaa braahmee sthitih paartha nainaam praapya vimuhyati; 
Sthitwaasyaamantakaale’pi brahmanirvaanamricchati.


72. This is the Brahmic seat (eternal state), O son of Pritha! Attaining to this, none is deluded. Being established therein, even at the end of life one attains to oneness with Brahman.

Hari Om Tat Sat

Iti Srimad Bhagavadgeetaasoopanishatsu Brahmavidyaayaam
Yogashaastre Sri Krishnaarjunasamvaade
Saankhyayogo Naama Dvitiyo’dhyaayah

Thus in the Upanishads of the glorious Bhagavad Gita, the science of the Eternal, the scripture of Yoga, the dialogue between Sri Krishna and Arjuna, ends the second discourse entitled:

Swae Sankhya Yoga”

Swami Sivananda





https://youtu.be/C2zmwLhYtUM





















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Commentary on the Bhagavadgita 

by Swami Krishnananda







 The Second Chapter Begins – Sanhkya Yoga

We look at the world only with our eyes, and judge things according to the report that is provided through the medium of the senses. All the information that we get of the world through the sense organs is therefore galvanised, and in many ways distorted. It is assumed that a person, as an individual, has to do something with this world. The business of life is, practically, an attempt to handle this world in some way—to harness it, and utilise it for one’s own purpose.

Here is the essential point. We have to use the world for our purposes. Through scientific advancement and technological discoveries and inventions, we seem to be trying to use the world more and more for our utility. It is an object; it is a thing; it is a tool which has to be used for an externalised purpose—not for the benefit of the world, but for the benefit of another, who calls himself the human individual. Do we not mostly judge things in this manner? Everything has to be cast into the mould of our sensory and physical needs. We make remarks about things: “It is like this and it is like that.” These remarks are judgments that we pass on the things in the world based on evidence provided by the sense organs, which are entirely unreliable on account of their impetuosity. Due to this, the thinking mind, or the consciousness that is aware, is pulled out of its own roots. The activity of the sense organs plucks us, as it were, from ourselves, and throws us into the winds of the outside world. We are distressed from morning to evening on account of a loss of self that we undergo, even when we do not actually know what is happening to us.

Every perception is a movement of the self towards an object. The consciousness has to charge the mind with an intelligence that peeps through the sense organs and locates objects, the world in front, in a particular juxtaposed manner. So our conclusion that we know something—we know the world or we know whatever it is—is triply conditioned: firstly, by it having to pass through the mentation, the psychic organ, the antahkarana; secondly, by the mind having to think only through the sense organs; and thirdly, by the sense organs having to visualise things as located in space and time. Thus, there is a threefold defect in human perception, which includes social relations and everything that we regard as ours or not ours. Due to this purely personal judgment born of human sentiment, Arjuna turned the tables around, and made an unexpected gesture of putting down his weapons. He said, “I shall not embark upon this otherwise well-praised adventure of a war with the Kurus.”

I hinted yesterday that the spiritual seeker mostly finds himself in this predicament when he cannot handle the world properly. In one condition of the mind, the world is an object of delight and enjoyment—as a property. In another condition of the mind, it looks like an obstacle from which the earlier we extricate ourselves, the better. We wish to free ourselves from all our entanglements in the world. But a third stage comes when the world reacts in an adverse manner upon the mind that has thought it to be a redundant tail, as it were, of its perception. Then it is that there is actually a humiliating coming down of the aspiring consciousness, and a last moment’s feeling that perhaps everything is over and nothing is possible. It appears that even the great Buddha had this experience the day before his enlightenment. It was all dark. There was no light on the horizon. After years of austerity, he was crawling on all fours due to the weakness of the body. He thought the tapas was over and he had achieved nothing. There was a complete dejection of the spirit.

This predominantly spiritual despondency of a spiritual seeker is also called yoga. The First Chapter, which is nothing but a description of the weeping of Arjuna, is called Visada Yoga: the yoga of the dejection of the spirit. This dejection is not a morbid, melancholy mood of the spiritual seeker. It is a healthy realisation of the impossibility of an individual being to face this world of values alone, and the need felt for a higher assistance. It may be a Guru for one person; it may be God Himself for another. Therefore, in the utter helplessness of not being able to know what actually is to be done, Arjuna asked what was his duty par excellence. What was his duty in this world? This was the question of Arjuna, which he couched in various styles of expression according to the tradition of that time.

The answer of Sri Krishna is that all this is a kind of blabber which an ignorant mind resorts to for self-justification, under the impression that ignorance is bliss. “Neither do you know what you are, nor do you know what the world is. How do you make judgments of this kind, that you shall do or you shall not do? On what grounds do you make a statement that this has to be done and this should not be done? What is the rationale behind the ethics, morality, and the justification for any kind of action in this world? What is the ground on which you base your argument for embarking upon a particular project of this type or that type? Is it merely an impulse of the instinct, or the force of the sense organs, or the appetite of the biological organ? Or is it a well-reasoned-out structure that you philosophically constructed for the purpose of rising high into the sphere of a spiritual conclusion? Neither do you know yourself, nor do you know the world, Arjuna; yet, you speak as if you are a wise person: prajñāvādāṁś ca bhāṣase.”

This wisdom that Arjuna seemed to lack, due to which he wrongly judged the situation that he was facing, is called sankhya, which is a well-known term in philosophical circles. “You lack sankhya—that is, the wisdom of life. This is your malady and, therefore, everything that you have said is all a medley of chaos. Your arguments are not couched in a proper logical style, and your conclusions are not drawn from valid premises. Your premise itself is wrong. The premise is nothing but the report of the sense organs and the demand of the instinct, which is conditioned by love and hatred. From this you have to rise through sankhya.”

There is a philosophical doctrine called Sankhya, which counts the categories which constitute this world. It is derived from the word ‘sankhya’, which means computerising, counting, calculating and methodologically coming to a conclusion as to the number of principles that constitute this world. What is this building? We look at it, and it seems to be a mass indivisibly presented before us. But it is not an indivisible structure. It is made up of small constituents—brick and mortar, and steel and whatnot. The world is not as it appears to the eyes; it is a whitewash that we see, as the inside bricks and the cement are not visible to the outer perception. Sankhya goes deep into the categorisation of the principles of the universe, and starts its argument from the very consciousness that tries to make any investigation at all: Who is it that is trying to make an investigation into the nature of the world? Who is it that wants to know anything at all? It is me. Now, what kind of me is it?

Without going into further details of this complex subject, we may conclude that we are essentially consciousness. This consciousness is the chaitanya shakti, or the chaitanya purusha, which is indivisibly present, and not divisible under any circumstance. The Sankhya takes up the stand on the presence of an indivisible consciousness it calls purusha in its own terminology. The essence of the matter is that consciousness is indivisible, and it cannot be cut into pieces. There cannot be a fraction of consciousness, because any assumption of it being possible to divide consciousness into parts would imply the introduction of a consciousness even to know that such a division has been made. Consciousness has to be there even between the two parts, which is to say that consciousness is everywhere. This is the fundamental principle beyond which we cannot go, and deeper than which there is nothing. Sā kāṣṭhā sā parā gatiḥ (Katha 1.3.11): This is the end and the substance of all arguments, whether philosophical or empirical. But, Sankhya has a point in regard to our obstinate feeling that there is a world outside us. Even if a person is paranoiac and wrongly conceives things and sees things which are not there, it is not enough if we simply dub the person as sick. A practical method has to be adopted in treating the mind and setting it right for the purpose of correct perception. So the world may be there in this manner or in that manner, that is a different matter. Our perceptions may be wrong, and we may not be able to understand the world correctly—granted. But what is it that we are seeing in front of us?

Sankhya calls the objective character of perception as prakriti, and the subjective consciousness which perceives is called purusha. So the Sankhya divides reality into two phases, or blocks of power—consciousness and matter, subject and object, purusha and prakriti. Experience is supposed to be engendered by a contact of consciousness with prakriti. Purusha comes in contact with prakriti. It is very interesting to notice here that there can be contact between two dissimilar things. Consciousness is never an object; prakriti is never a subject. The contradiction between these two principles is obvious. How can we bring about a rapprochement between the subject and the object, which stand poles apart? How does the mind, or the individual consciousness, experience that such and such thing is there, or the world is there?

The analogy of the Sankhya is well known. Consciousness never becomes an object. It never actually enters the object. It appears to perceive as if there is some object—such as, a crystal that is perfectly pure looks as if it is coloured when a coloured object is brought near it. Pure crystal is colourless. It is resplendent pure light, as it were; and if a red flower, for instance, is brought near it, it will appear as if the whole crystal is red. It looks as if the crystal has become red. This analogy from the Sankhya extends to the field of the explanation of human perception—how the world is seen as such by the individual consciousness. The world is never correctly known at any time, just as there is always a dissimilarity between the coloured flower and the crystal, notwithstanding the fact that the crystal has apparently assumed the character of the object. A red-hot iron rod looks like fire, not like iron. It is glowing white with heat, yet that glow which is white heat is the fire; and there is something there which is not the fire—namely, the iron rod. The impact of the heat on the iron rod is such that the rod has ceased to be there practically, though it is there really. In a similar manner, objects assume a reality, as it were, though there is no reality in them; they are pure transitoriness.

The world is movement. It is a fluxation. It is a continuity of bits of force tending in some direction, and never does a single bit of matter rest in itself as an undivided something. Prakriti continuously changes its characteristics. It is a continuity that is a flow consisting of three strands—namely, sattva, rajas and tamas. Like a wheel that moves when the car moves, there is a cyclic movement of prakriti through the gunas of sattva, rajas and tamas, and it is not a solid object. There is no such thing as solid objects in this world; there is only fluxation. A person may appear on a screen, while the person is not really there. Thousands of small frames of film have moved with such rapidity that the movement could not be caught by the eye. The speed of the movement exceeds the capacity of the eye to perceive the individual frames, and so we see someone there, and not the individual frames that have passed at the rate of about sixteen pictures in one second.

Likewise, we see that we are solid objects—the building is solid, the earth is solid, I am solid, you are solid—but the apparent solidity is just like the solidity of a person on the screen, while the person is not really there. It is a continuous rapid movement of frames that gives the illusion of a solid person standing there, the illusion arising on account of the incapacity of the eyes to catch the movement. High-frequency radio waves are moving right here, but our ears cannot hear them. The rapidity of the movement of the waves cannot be caught by the crudeness of the eardrums; therefore, even if television waves and radio waves are dashing upon us just now, we can see nothing and hear nothing.

Similarly, consciousness makes a mistake even in the perception of prakriti, which is otherwise just a movement. The apparent solidity or the stability of a particular object, which the consciousness takes for granted, is due to the consciousness itself entering into the fluxation, as it were, for the time being. And a limited piece of this large flux of matter appears as this solid entity, the solidity actually coming from consciousness itself which is the real solidity, which is indivisible. Therefore, the perception of the world as a solid thing is a total illusion.

Prakriti, which is the objectivity of the purusha, that is, consciousness, is constituted of three properties, called sattva, rajas and tamas. Tamas is inertia, pure inactivity; rajas is dynamism, distraction and action; and sattva is balance and harmony. The permutation and combination of these three gunas are the very substance of prakriti. The redness of a flower is a quality of the flower, but the redness itself is not the flower, whereas the three strands of a rope are not the quality of the rope, the strands themselves are the rope. In the same way, the three gunas that are mentioned—sattva, rajas and tamas—are the very substance of prakriti, and they are the very essence of movement in this world. These three gunas, by permutation and combination, create a situation of transparency in the cosmos, and the indivisible consciousness gets reflected, as it were, in this transparency, which is suddha tattva. It is the beginning of the process of the creation of the universe. It is a dream condition, as it were, where sketches of the future creation are drawn on the canvas of the mind itself. Thus, from the point of view of Vedanta terminology, there is a coming down of consciousness, which is Absolute, to the state of Ishvara, Hiranyagarbha and Virat, or in the language of Sankhya, prakriti becomes mahat, and mahat becomes ahamkara. Up to this level, from the top level to the Virat, or from the level of consciousness to ahamkara, there is a universal awareness. Virat is universally aware. Hiranyagarbha and Ishvara are universally aware. Mahat is universally aware. The ahamkara that is spoken of in Sankhya parlance is not the egoism of the human individual. It is the Self-consciousness of the cosmos itself.

Now, a tragic event takes place. The one indivisible ahamkara, or Virat, gets divided into a three-partite state, as it were—the object, the subject, and the connecting link between the object and the subject. These are known as the adhibhuta, adhyatma and adhidaiva. Thus, we see there is a world outside on account of the division that has taken place, and we are set aside as subjects perceiving the object outside, not being aware that there is a connecting link between the object and the subject, which is called the adhidaiva. Then there is a continuous solidification of this objectivity into tanmatras, called sabda, sparsha, rupa, rasa, gandha, and the five elements, called prithvi, apa, teja, vayu, akasha; and we have come down into the solidity which is this earth.

The individual, who is the perceiver of this so-called external world, is also constituted only of the three gunas. The bricks out of which the world is made are the very bricks that also make our body. The mind is subtle matter and the physical body is gross matter, and this grossness and subtlety depend upon the extent of the rarefication of the gunas of prakriti that have gone into the composition of this body. Nevertheless, whatever is in the world outside is also within us. So there is an organic connection between the subject and the object, and therefore, our judgments about things will not be finally tenable if we do not take into consideration our own involvement in the process of judgment. The mind of the judge plays an important role in making judgments. What kind of mind does that person have? Whether it is a disturbed mind, an emotional mind, a prejudiced mind, an impartial mind or a conditioned mind, it will determine what kind of judgment can be expected.

In a similar manner, this perception by the subject of the object varies from person to person, from individual to individual, among the eighty-four lakhs of species of creation, as they say. An ant’s perception may not be the same as an elephant’s perception, and so on. The judgment of values varies in accordance with the capacity to perceive in the case of different species of creation. The human being is one species, and he cannot take upon himself the privilege of knowing everything as if he is omniscient. He has only human eyes, and therefore, he sees only human values, and can see nothing else in this world.

“So, Arjuna, you have made a mistake by not counting yourself as one of the persons in this world. The people in the world are not only outside; you are also one of the persons in this world. Hence, your judgment of people in the world includes judgment of yourself also, which you are not doing. You think the world is constituted of people who are totally cut off from you,” said Sri Krishna.

Ten people crossed a river, and the water was neck-deep. With great difficulty they waded across. After reaching the other side, they wanted to check whether or not all of them had crossed, so one of them started counting.

He said, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. Only nine are here.”

The others said, “How is it possible? Has one of us drowned? Oh, count again.”

Another said, “You stand there. I’ll count.”

Again only nine people were counted. Every time they counted, they found that one man was missing. They started beating their chests and crying that one of them had been drowned in the water.

A passer-by saw this and asked, “Why are you all crying?”

“Oh, one of us has drowned,” they replied.

“How many were you?”

“Ten.”

“But you are ten,” he said.

“Where are the ten? No, there are only nine. See!” He counted again, and again counted nine.

“You are the tenth!”

“Oh, I see! I am the person that is responsible for all these troubles,” exclaimed the man.

The world is not the maker of our troubles. Modern science, in its profound discoveries, has now come to the conclusion that scientific observations are conditioned by the instruments that are used in science, and even by the structure of the scientist’s eye; and, therefore, all scientific perceptions are conditioned. Unconditioned knowledge of the world is not possible even for the best of scientists.

Thus, the movement of prakriti within itself in the form of the sense organs and the mind on the one hand, and the objects on the other hand, are taken by us as two different activities taking place. Actually, prakriti is cognising prakriti—guṇā guṇeṣu vartanta iti matvā na sajjate (3.28). One wave is dashing against another wave in the ocean, and two persons are not actually involved there. The structure of the sense organs and the mind is responsible for the kind of consciousness that is passing through that particular structure, and yet we should not forget that the sense organs and the mind are composed of the very same gunas of prakriti—sattva, rajas and tamas—and, in different permutations and combinations, the objects are constituted of the very same three gunas. So when something is known, when we cognise or perceive an object, it is prakriti that is colliding with prakriti. Therefore, we are not doing anything. But we think that we are isolated individuals, sitting and judging things. No judgment is possible, individually. Therefore, nobody does any action, ultimately.

Sri Krishna’s philosophy, finally, is that no individual action is possible. All action is cosmic action, as the very concept of individuality is ruled out in the light of this predicament of all perception being only a collision of the subjective side of prakriti with its objective side. Hence, who does anything in this world? It is prakriti doing within itself whatever it wants to do, as the rumbling within the bowels of the ocean may rise up as billowing waves on the surface, yet it is one activity taking place. If something is happening in the Atlantic Ocean, it can be felt in the Arabian Sea, and we cannot say that there are two different seas working. It is one impulse working through different areas.

All perception—finally, all knowledge—is a conditioned observation of things through the mind and the sense organs on account of prakriti conditioning things subjectively on the one hand and objectively on the other hand. Thus, sensory perception cannot be regarded as correct perception. Even pure mental cogitation cannot be regarded as correct perception, because the externality characterising the object vitiates the validity of any perception. The error of perception of any kind is the introduction of space and time in the midst of the otherwise indivisible movement of prakriti—subjectively as gunas, and also objectively as gunas. Between two waves in the ocean there are gaps, but the gaps are filled with a basic fundament of the very same substance of the wave, and two waves which are different from each other are connected by a basic ocean. In a similar manner, individual perceptions in respect of objects outside are actually a dancing of the waves of the gunas of prakriti within themselves. The whole universe is a dance of prakriti. Neither you do anything, nor I do anything.

“So, Arjuna, you are unnecessarily racking your brain by trying to tell Me whether the war is to be undertaken or not, and what kind of consequence will follow, etc. How do you draw these conclusions, and on what grounds have you drawn these conclusions, not knowing the fact that your judgment in respect of the Kauravas, or the world as a whole, is misconstrued on account of your standing outside?” It is like the tenth man not counting himself, and therefore always finding that there is one person less.

The world is defective on account of our not being able to isolate and identify ourselves with the world structure. There is no harmony between ourselves and the world of objects. There is a tension between the subject and object. The tension is caused by the vitiating habit of love and hatred, because the limited mind cannot love all things in the world, nor can it hate all things in the world. It is impossible. The mind works in fractions. A little bit of thought, of cogitation, arranges itself into a particular pattern at some time, and classifies objects as desirable or undesirable according to the condition through which the body and the mind pass. Therefore, the whole of perception is not given to the mind. We neither like the whole world nor hate the whole world. Thus, neither of these attitudes of ours can be regarded as finally tenable.

Psychological judgment charged with sentiment is no judgment. It should be a super-rational judgment arisen on account of the inference that the reason can draw on the basis of a universal substance that is there. The premise has to be universality, and from there we can deduce particularity. But we cannot rise from particularity to universality, because particulars cannot tell us that there is a Universal.

All logic in India is deductive in the sense that it takes its stand on the Supreme Reality first, as Sankhya has taken. The essence of thinking is consciousness; it has to be indivisible and, therefore, it should be Universal. So, there is a distinction between the approach of Western philosophers and Indian philosophers. The empiricists, such as Bacon and others, count things: “The sun rises in the east. The sun rose in the east yesterday, the sun rose in the east today. Millions of times the sun has risen in the east and, therefore, it must always rise in the east.” This kind of conclusion is called induction. From many particulars, we gather a generalisation. But it may not be a correct conclusion because even if the sun has been rising in the east for millions of years, one day it may not rise in the east. For some reason the whole thing may change, and it may rise in the west. Therefore, induction is not correct. Indian philosophy never relies on induction. It relies on deduction. The fundamental reality has to be ascertained first, and that is possible only by an investigation of the investigator himself. As Ramana Maharshi was fond of saying, “Whenever you put a question, tell me who is putting the question.” Therefore, go deep into yourself.

Arjuna could not do this. Sankhya is the knowledge of the structure of the world as it is really constituted, inclusive of the perceiving individual, on account of which fact there is no such thing as individual action at all. Therefore, there is no individual judgment either. Hence, whatever Arjuna had been saying was gibberish; it was nonsense. Now Arjuna says, “Please lead me onto the right path of action in this world, in the light of this great knowledge that you have given to me.”

“I have told you Sankhya, now I shall tell you yoga,” replies Sri Krishna. Eṣā te’bhihitā sāṅkhye buddhir yoge tvimāṁ śṛṇu (2.39): “All that I have been telling you up to this time is the wisdom of the Sankhya, which is the knowledge of the structure of the universe as it is in itself, including you. Now I shall tell you how to live in this world—how to live in this kind of world in which you are also involved—and how to act in an impersonal manner, and not in a personal manner.” That is the yoga of action, which Sri Krishna subsequently gives.

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Discourse 4: The Second Chapter Continues – How to Live in the World

Sankhya also implies the knowledge of the immortality of the soul. At the very beginning of Sri Krishna’s instructions in the Second Chapter of the Bhagavadgita, emphasis is laid on the eternity of the soul. Deathless, immutable is the Atman: avināśi tu tad viddhi yena sarvam idaṁ tatam (2.17). The word ‘avināśi’ means it is indestructible. Not only that, it is all pervading: yena sarvam idaṁ tatam. The Atman is involved in all things, warp and woof. The deathlessness or the indestructibility of the soul implies the timelessness of the soul because that which is involved in time cannot be deathless, as time is the factor that kills everything. The process of time is the process of decay, transformation and final extinction.

Therefore, anything that is involved in the process of time cannot be immortal. Hence, the immortality of the soul also suggests the timelessness of the soul. And the timelessness of the soul implies the spacelessness of the soul because when time goes, space also goes. As space and time are two facets of empirical involvement, when one goes, the other also goes. We cannot think of time without space, as we always consider time as a kind of movement or succession in space; and, we cannot think of space without the process of time involved in it. Thus, the whole world is subject to mutation, transition, and the conditions involved in the very existence of space and time.

The Atman, or the soul of man, is not in space and time. The soul is not in space and time because it can know that there is space and time. The knower of an object is itself not the object. The consciousness in us, which is the Atman basically, is aware of the existence of such a thing as space and time; therefore, the knower, which is consciousness, cannot itself be involved in space and time. The knower of space is not in space. The knower of time is not in time. Hence, basically, essentially, the soul within is spaceless and timeless—avināśi and tatam—spread out everywhere, wider than space and more durable than time. This soul, which is deathless, is encased, as it were, in a perishable body. The human being is partly in the world of death and partly in the world of the immortals. We are involved physically, and to some extent psychologically, in space and time. We know very well that we have a location in space; we cannot be spread out everywhere. Also, there is a movement of our life in the process of time. We are born, we grow, we decay, and one day we perish. Therefore, this psychophysical organism, which is the human individual, is itself subject to destruction, notwithstanding the fact that it is a tabernacle of this deathless soul.

We think in two ways. We think in terms of space, time and objects, and we also think in terms of an aspiration for eternal existence. We know very well that we cannot live long in this world. Everybody has to pass away. Nobody can deny the fact that one day everybody has to go. In spite of this knowledge of the surety of the death of this body—the negation of this psychophysical individuality—we fear death. We do not want to die.

Who is it, actually, who does not want to die? The body cannot aspire for deathlessness because it is involved in the very process of dying, which is time. And the mind, which is psychophysical, is also perishable on account of its transitory nature. So why do we fear death? Who fears death? Is it the body that fears death? The body is not even conscious; it is a physical substance. There is something in us which does not want to die. The desire not to die cannot arise in something which is subject to death in any way whatsoever. The desire not to die implies the possibility of not dying—hence, our aspiration for deathlessness. The fear of death implies the existence of such a thing as immortality. We cannot fear death unless we do not want to die, and the desire to not die cannot arise in the physical body or in anything in this world; it has to arise from something which is superior to all physical matter. That is to say, we have a root in eternity, which is the cause of our aspiration that takes us beyond all extension in space and duration in time. We would like to possess the whole world. We would like to become masters of the entire space, and we would like to live as long as time itself. This desire cannot arise in time. It cannot arise in space. It arises in something which is not in space, not in time, and which is not an object.

Thus, Sri Krishna tells Arjuna, “Don’t be a coward, saying that one day you will die and afterwards everything will be annihilated, saying that you don’t know what will happen afterwards.” The fear of death implies the futurity of the soul. We say that we must do good actions, we must be righteous, we must live moral and ethical lives. These injunctions cannot have any meaning unless the soul is deathless, because at any moment one can pass away. If tomorrow is the end of this individuality, all good actions also go with it. Therefore, all the injunctions for being righteous and good and humane become futile but for the fact that there is a possibility of the continuity of life after the perishing of this body. That is, rebirth of the soul is implied in the very injunctions to be good in this world, to do some service, and to have a worthwhile existence in this world.

The rebirth of the soul is also very interesting. The soul perpetually takes these successive forms in the period of time on account of it being necessary, in the process of evolution, to advance further and further in the experience of life. It is necessary for us to die in order that we may learn better lessons in a newer form of existence. Death is not the extinction of individuality. Death is only the shedding of a condition imposed upon consciousness for a given period of time, a condition which is not necessary eternally. We shall advance further. Just as a student rises from one class to another class, transcending the lower for the sake of attaining the higher by shedding the conditions of the lower class and entering into the conditions of the higher class, in a similar manner, consciousness within the soul is now conditioned in the physical body and in this physical world for the purpose of fulfilling certain desires which it entertained in previous births. When these conditions of desires are broken—that is to say, when they are fulfilled completely—the conditions necessary for the existence of this body in space and time are transcended automatically, and we enter into a new realm, a higher state of education, as it were, where a wider perception and a deeper insight of things is possible. This process of transmigration, metempsychosis, coming and going, will never cease as long as the soul does not learn the lesson that it is essentially eternal, and it becomes totally desireless.

The body is perishable: antavanta ime dehā nityasyoktāḥ śarīriṇaḥ (2.18). The soul is, of course, eternal—but, nevertheless, this body is perishable. How interesting! Eternity is enshrined in perishable clay, which is this body—two contraries indeed. Prakriti and purusha are very intriguingly juxtaposed in this experience of body-consciousness. As I mentioned yesterday, the artificiality of the soul assuming this body and becoming the body is as artificial as the assuming of colour by pure crystal. We have become the body itself, and we think that we are only the body. As long as we are intensely body-conscious, the soul is only a theoretical construct. But this is not correct perception, in the same way as the redness that we see in a crystal is not correct perception.

Sri Krishna’s argument goes on, from stage to stage. Firstly, the fear of death is to be ruled out because of the possibility of attaining immortality, and the whole process of evolution through birth and death being a journey to the finality which is the end of all transmigration. As the river will meet the ocean, the soul will reach the sea of all-pervadingness. Not only that, the performance of duty, which is the main subject of the Bhagavadgita, involves the consideration of the manner in which a human individual lives in this world as a combination of spirit and matter, soul and body, consciousness and objectiveness.

There is a duty imposed upon every person on account of the very involvement of consciousness in space and time. We have to do our duty, our svadharma. Svadharmam api cāvekṣya na vikampitum arhasi (2.31): “Considering the essentiality of performing your duty, at least from this point of view, you should not shirk doing what you actually ought to do.” The duty as such is implied in our involvement in the atmosphere. The components of our psychophysical individuality actually belong to the world outside. The physical body is constituted of the five elements, the mind also is constituted of rarefied forms of tanmatras, and the sense organs are superintended by divinities like the sun, the moon, and others. In a way, we may say that we are living a borrowed existence. We have no independent existence in ourselves. The physical stuff belongs to the physical universe, the mental stuff belongs to the tanmatras, and the sense organs cannot even think and perceive without the operation of the superintending divinities which control the workings of the sense organs. Inasmuch as there is such an involvement of the person in the divinities that superintend over the sense organs, and we also are subject to the conditions of material existence, which are the five elements, we have a duty of maintaining a harmony with these elements.

Duty is nothing but the maintenance of harmony with the atmosphere. We should not be in a state of conflict with anybody. The atmosphere in which we are living may be a family atmosphere, a community atmosphere, a provincial atmosphere, a national atmosphere, an international atmosphere, or it may be the atmosphere of the whole of physical creation. Whatever it is, it is an atmosphere with which we have to be in a state of harmony—that is, neither our body, nor our mind, nor our conduct in life should be in a state of conflict with the demands of other such existences which also require a harmonious existence. We should concede the same rights to other people as we concede to our own selves. The privileges and rights that we expect in this world are also the privileges and rights expected by other people.

Inasmuch as there is no superiority or inferiority among individuals, there is a necessity for a mutual concession granted to each other by way of a sacrifice. My asking for freedom should not in any way deter the asking for freedom by another person. That is, I should not deny freedom to another just because I want to be free. Therefore, a hundred percent freedom for an individual is not possible because if each individual wants one hundred percent freedom, there will be no freedom at all because there will be a clash of aspirations. So the freedom that we can have in this world is a sort of sacrifice that we have to make at the same time—that is, we cannot expect one hundred percent freedom, though we can have as much freedom as is possible under the condition of others also having to be in a state of freedom. Hence, duty is the performance of that act which will maintain harmony in society and in the world. It also implies a sacrifice that we not only do something for the maintenance of life in a state of harmony, but we also conduct and perform a sacrifice in the form of not going beyond the limits of possible freedom.

Absolute freedom is not possible because there is nothing that is absolute in this world. Everything is relative; everything is hanging on something else; everything is limited by others. Our existence is conditioned by the existence of other people. The very fact that we are existing as individuals shows that there are other individuals. Hence, our existence itself is conditioned by the existence of others. Thus, we cannot have one hundred percent freedom. Nobody can have it. The whole world is limited to relativity. Therefore, in this condition of mutual cooperation that is required of the individual, it is incumbent on everyone to participate in the harmony that nature maintains.

The whole cosmos is nothing but a balance of forces. We may say it is a big electromagnetic field which tries to maintain itself always and will not brook any intervention from others. The moment we intervene or touch this electromagnetic field of the cosmos with an external attitude, it gives a kick; that is what is called the nemesis of karma. The karma that we speak of is nothing but the reaction of the universal electromagnetic field with which we are interfering every day as outsiders, as it were, which it does not permit. Under these circumstances, it is necessary to perform one’s duty both from the point of view of the individual and from the point of view of human society and the welfare of all beings.

In India there is a great injunction called the panchamahayajna, the five great sacrifices which every householder has to observe. Firstly is deva-yajna, the acceptance of there being superior divinities that control our destiny. Therefore, the worship of the divinities, the gods, is a pre-eminent duty of every person, and if we ignore the existence of these divinities, we will not be permitted to even exist in this world. We also have to be grateful to the great rishis and masters who have handed down the knowledge of the scriptures—the Vedas, Upanishads, etc. We have to be grateful to our teachers, our masters, who have enlightened us, and the greatest of masters are the rishis whose pronouncements come to us as scriptures.

There is also a necessity to be grateful to the people who permit us to exist as individuals in the same way as they exist as individuals. There is a mutual sacrifice among ourselves. If I have to exist, I have to see that you also exist. It is not possible to have conflict among individuals. Everybody has a desire to exist in a state of harmony. This necessity to maintain harmony among human beings demands a consideration and a humane attitude among people. We cannot suddenly get into a fit of anger. We cannot condemn people, we cannot criticise, we cannot subordinate a person and consider him as a tool or exploit him. Nothing of the kind is possible. No person is a tool in our hands, and we cannot exploit anybody. Nobody is a servant in this world; everybody is a master and, therefore, we have to treat everybody with respect. Manushya-yajna is the respect to athithis, guests, and people generally. We also have to be considerate to living beings who are not able to speak, such as animals: bhuta-yajna.

That is to say, this pancha-mahayajna, or the five great sacrifices enjoined upon every person, implies that we are in a world of divinity with life pervading everywhere and love ruling the cosmos. Hatred is not the rule; love is the rule. There is a power of attraction which is seen in every little atom and in every molecule, in every component of molecules, in every organism, and even in the whole solar system. The attraction that one exercises on others is physically known as gravitation. Biologically it is known as health, psychologically it is called sanity, rationally it is called logic, and spiritually it is called Universality.

All these graduated appreciations of the Universal Being in particulars should be considered as the foundation of ethics and morality. A person is good to the extent that he is able to recognise the Universal in the particular. A person is divine only to the extent he is able to recognise Universal principles in particular individuals. This is the essence of svadharma, which Sri Krishna refers to. Apart from the immortality of the soul—which is the basic consideration and, therefore, we should not fear death—the other aspect of the matter is that we have to live in this world, performing our duties. As long as we are in this world, in this physical body, it becomes incumbent on us to perform the social duties, the personal duties, and the other duties mentioned. If we do even a little good in this world, it will be credited to our bank balance. One day or the other, we will find that interest has been accrued to it.

Nehābhikramanāśo’sti pratyavāyo na vidyate (2.40). No reaction will be produced by our actions if our actions are motivated by the consideration of a Universal principle existing between ourselves and the object which we are dealing with. And as long as this consciousness of a Universal presence between ourselves and others conditions and rules our behaviour, action will not produce a reaction—that is, karma will not bind us: na karma lipyate nare (Isa 2).

In the Isavasya Upanishad is the pronouncement īśāvāsyam idaṁ sarvam (Isa 1): All this is pervaded by the One Reality. Therefore, we should not be greedy. We should not try to possess things, because the idea of possession of property is also the idea of converting some part of the world into a tool for our purposes. As I mentioned, we cannot exploit anything. If we perform action with this knowledge of God being present everywhere—that is, the principle of Universality ruling all things—we will be purified by our actions; karma becomes a purifying medium, and not a binding medium.

Furthermore, action is a must: karmaṇyevādhikāras te mā phaleṣu kadācana, mā karmaphalahetur bhūr mā te saṅgo’stvakarmaṇi (2.47); na hi kaścit kṣaṇam api jātu tiṣṭhatyakarmakṛt (3.5). This refers to the action that we generally speak of, which includes duty, the performance of obligatory works. This injunction on action is born of the very structure of prakriti, which never ceases from moving further; and, all prakriti is potential activity. Even if we keep quiet and do not do any work, that consciousness of our not doing any work is also a work. Hence, nobody can be without any kind of action. Total inactivity is not possible because every cell of the body is active. The mind is active, the growth which the body undergoes is an activity, and even death is an activity. There is continuous movement in the cosmos. It is like a train moving eternally on the rails, and inasmuch as there is no inactivity anywhere on account of the involvement of all things in the processes of prakriti, we should make the best of things. Finally, in the state of the ultimate purusha, there is no activity, because there is no contact with prakriti and there is no flux or natural reaction. But until that time, as long as the purusha, or the consciousness of the Atman, is involved in this body, there is a reciprocal action of the Atman and the body.

The Atman illumines the mind and enlivens the body, and the body limits the experience of consciousness by subjecting it to the laws of nature. The laws of nature rule this world. This body is conditioned by every law that is applicable to natural phenomena; therefore, our jivatva, our consciousness, our very existence itself seems to be conditioned by geographical conditions, historical conditions, and forces such as gravitation, etc. There is no gravitation for the soul; it is only for the physical body. The more are we externalised in our perception, the more devoted we are to the objects of sense, the more we think that we are the body, the more we are subject to the laws of nature, and the more is the way karma will bind us and compel us to work for the sake of participation in the work of prakriti. When we cannot consciously and deliberately participate in the work of prakriti, we will be forced to this by the very nature of prakriti, which is working inside us, which is working through us—and, as a matter of fact, we ourselves are embodiments of the three gunas of prakriti.

Our duty is to act in such a manner that action does not bind us. The consideration of the fruit of an action is contrary to the concept of duty. A person who expects something from the performance of duty has not performed duty. Duty is not a wage earner. A person does not perform duty because something comes out of it. It is a necessary obligation on our part to participate in the very structure of the cosmos. If our legs walk, they are performing their duty, but they do not get salary because they are walking. The limbs of the body work independently, and no limb asks for recompense or consideration from the other parts of the body. If the eyes show us the way to go and the legs walk, the eyes may tell us to give them something because they helped us by showing the direction. This does not happen because mutual cooperation is the essence of duty; and in mutual cooperation, no expectation of fruits is possible because the very fact of mutual cooperation brings all the fruits that are required.

Duty is also, automatically, a privilege. The gods in heaven know that we deserve whatever is necessary for our existence under the conditions of the duty that we have to perform. So there is no point in our working in this world, or doing anything, for that matter, under the impression that something will come. The futurity of the expectation of fruits of action is, again, a concept in time. We feel that if we do something, then some future fruit will follow. The idea of the future is, again, an involvement of our consciousness in time. We have already been told that we should not perform any action with a notion of our involvement in space and time. Our consideration should be a Universal principle present in all things, and not our involvement in space and time. So we should not think that if we do something good today, tomorrow we will get some fruit. The idea of tomorrow should not arise in us because the idea of tomorrow implies space and time and, again, it is a bondage. The meaning of duty is very difficult to conceive, and even great sages are bewildered in understanding what it actually is. Kavayo’pyatra mohitāḥ (4.16): “Even learned people, even masters with insight, are bewildered as to what action is, what karma is, and how it works. Anyway, I shall tell you how it works.” Sri Krishna goes on further.





















Discourse 5: The Second Chapter Concludes – The Establishment of the Soul in Universality

The impulsion to act arises due to the compulsion of prakriti’s modes, which always revolve and rotate in a cyclic fashion. Like the incessant movement of the spokes of a wheel in motion, the gunas of prakriti—sattva, rajas and tamas—keep perpetually moving and never resting. Inasmuch as everybody—myself, yourself, and all things—is constituted of these essentials of prakriti, the mutation which prakriti perpetually undergoes has a direct impact upon our individual existence, and we also undergo the same mutation. Whether we want to or not, we are forced to act in a particular direction. The whole point is: In what direction are we acting?

Action by itself is something like electricity, which is neither good nor bad. Action is a kind of impulsion in some given direction. The effect that action will produce depends upon the direction of the action. The direction depends upon the mind and the reason of a particular individual conditioning the movement—just as a driver steers the vehicle in a given direction though the engine does not know the direction in which the driver is making it go. Prakriti is like an engine which moves; therefore, when it moves, everything also moves, but the direction in which it moves depends upon the intelligence of the driver. In the case of the individual, it is the reason or the understanding, the viveka shakti, that is responsible for the direction.

The direction can be twofold. It can be a movement away from the centre or it can be a movement towards the centre. All movements away from the centre are called centrifugal movements. All movements towards the centre are called centripetal movements. Our activities, our works, our performances of any kind may take us away from ourselves more and more, or they may bring us nearer and nearer to our own selves. That is to say, our works and deeds in this world may be either integrating or disintegrating. When we do work, we may feel exhausted, and feel we have had enough of everything; or we may feel energy, enthusiasm, and we would like to do more work. The energy comes from the integrating faculty operating behind our action. Our soul is the centre of everything. The more is the force exerted by our soul, the greater is the integration that is taking place in our action; it is a cohesive, harmonious action in which we get involved. But if the soul is practically dead, as it is in most people, the sense organs take the upper hand, and instead of the soul motivating the direction of the action, the sense organs start controlling the movement, and they pull us out of ourselves.

The sense organs have only one work, which is to take us out of ourselves and place us somewhere where we are not. That is to say, we are compelled by the sense organs to be continuously conscious of something which is not ourselves; and the more we are conscious of an object, the less we are conscious of ourselves. There is a loss of Self. This is called atma-hana in the Isavasya Upanishad. Asuryā nāma te lokā andhena tamasā vṛtāḥ, tāṁs te pretyābhigacchanti ye ke cātmahano janāḥ (Isa 3). The killers of the Self, as the Isavasya Upanishad puts it, are those people who ignore the very existence of the Self by not being conscious of its existence, and of the role it plays in their life and in the direction of their actions. They depend entirely on the impulses of the eyes and the ears, and the sentiments or the feelings engendered by the power of the sense organs.

Here is the foundation, or the anatomy, of what we call action—individually, as well as cosmically. As I mentioned, there is a cosmic action taking place like the engine of a vehicle which does not know in which direction it is going. Prakriti is not concerned with the direction that we take in our action. It propels us to act, and we may go this way or that way. The direction that we take depends upon our intelligence—buddhi sarathi. In the Kathopanishad, our intelligence is called sarathi. Like Sri Krishna acting as the charioteer for Arjuna who was in the chariot, the buddhi, or the intelligence in us, acts as the charioteer in this chariot of the body, of which the rider is the jiva. This is the image that we have in the Kathopanishad.

Now, having said all this, we go to the great injunction of the Bhagavadgita: karmaṇyevādhikāras te mā phaleṣu kadācana, mā karmaphalahetur bhūr mā te saṅgo’stvakarmaṇi (2.47). Our duty is to act—that is karmaṇyevādhikāras—but we have no right to expect any result or particular fruit to accrue from our action. From a cursory point of view, this looks like a very hard teaching, like a cruel employer telling a labourer to work hard without expecting any wages. But does God say that we should go on working and He will give us nothing? God is not a cruel master. The principle behind the obligatory duty incumbent upon every individual is the involvement of every individual in the structure of the universe, to which I made reference when I explained what Sankhya is. The whole universe is one single body, whose limbs are the modes of prakriti, and whose soul is the all-pervading purusha: yena sarvam idaṁ tatam (2.17).

Now, why is it that we should act? And why is it that we should not expect the fruits of action? This will be clear to us if we analyse the reason behind our action, and the reason why fruits will not accrue as we desire. Our actions are obligatory on our part on account of our involvement in this psychophysical organism, which is controlled by the movement of the gunas of prakriti. Therefore, as long as prakriti moves, as long as the gunas rotate and revolve in this cosmical process of creation and evolution, we also will be involved in that action. Thus, our activity is a participation in the universal action of prakriti; we are not acting independently. The Sankhya knowledge, which we have had an insight into earlier, tells us that, individually, we do not have any kind of prerogative because we are an organic part of the whole structure of prakriti, of which the ruling principle is the purusha.

Therefore, work is a must. We have to do; we have to act. But why is it that we do not get the result that we expect? The answer to this question is not in the Second Chapter. The answer is in a verse in the Eighteenth Chapter: adhiṣṭhānaṁ tathā kartā karaṇaṁ ca pṛthagvidham, vividhāś ca pṛthakceṣṭā daivaṁ caivātra pañcamam (18.14). When we do something, we have a very narrow notion of what result will follow from our action. The narrow notion arises on account of our limitation to our body and social conditions, and our completely ignoring our cosmical relation. The fruit accrues according to the sanction of the involvement of ourselves in the cosmic structure, notwithstanding the fact that we have individually, so-called, initiated the action. The action that we perform is not a stereotyped movement in a simple manner, as we think. Our action is very complicated. It involves many factors. When we take a morsel of food, how many organs in our body act? The entire organism rises up into action. Even if it is only one raisin that we are putting into our mouth, the entire mechanism starts acting. Similarly, any action that we perform sets in motion the whole rotation of prakriti, and it will act and react according to its laws.

The physical body is the adhisthana that is spoken of. The limitations of the physical body are also the limitations of our action. We cannot work like elephants. We can work only to the extent that the frail human body permits. There are many weaknesses as far as our physical body is concerned, and those weaknesses diminish the effect of the action that we perform. Hence, the adhisthana, or the physical lodgement of our consciousness, limits the effect of the action to that extent.

Karta is the ego principle. When we do an action, the ego asserts itself in a particular manner. The manner in which the ego acts at the time of the performance of an action is entirely dependent on the desire which it has on the subconscious level or the conscious level, and the direction of the action will be motivated by the implicit desires. The ego is nothing but a bundle of desires. It has latent desires as well as expressed desires. So when it acts, it will act either for the fulfilment of a very obvious desire, or it will have a thought of the possibility of fulfilling some latent desire in the future. This will be a restriction on the nature of the fruit that accrues, because the restriction is nothing but the limitation of our desire. We cannot desire everything. We have only petty desires. Our desires are so small and so weak that the limitation of the desires, which condition the action of the ego, is another limitation, apart from the limitation of the physical body.

Kartā karaṇaṁ ca pṛthagvidham. The instruments of action also limit our action. What are the tools we employ? A spade, a pickaxe, a gun, a hand or a foot are the instruments that we use. The limitations set by the instruments are also the limitations of our action. Vividhāś ca pṛthakceṣṭā: There are various other distractions in the mind at the time of performing an action. The mind is not very clear. Nobody’s mind is very clear at the time of performing an action because there is suspicion and doubt; there is a fear of not succeeding, or that the right step has not been taken, or that it is not the proper thing at the proper time. These kinds of distractions also limit our action.

Vividhāś ca pṛthakceṣṭā daivaṁ caivātra pañcamam. The last trump card that the Lord places before us is that the will of the Supreme Being is final. At the time of creation, the Supreme Being wills what kind of universe it has to be, and that kind of universe is characterised by certain abilities to provide us with the fruits of whatever kind they be. Therefore, we cannot expect something more or less than what can be available under the conditions of this particular universe willed by Hiranyagarbha, or Ishvara. Whatever be our individual will, it is prompted finally by the Ultimate Will. Though we may will a particular action, we cannot will the particular manner in which we will it.

It is said that a right action should be judged from four angles of vision. Firstly, the intention in doing a thing should be justifiable. We should not have an offensive intention behind our action. Secondly, the consequence that may follow from our action should also be justifiable. Thirdly, the very reason behind our intention—why we developed this intention to do a particular action—has a reason behind it which is superior to our psychological intention, and that also has to be justifiable. Finally, it should not harm any person. If our action does some harm to somebody, knowingly or unknowingly, it will have a reaction.

Actions done either knowingly or unknowingly will produce some reaction. Many times we feel that we have made a mistake unknowingly and, therefore, we should be pardoned. The law does not seem to think exactly the same way. There are one or two interesting stories in the Mahabharata and the Puranas. There was king who had many cattle, and in that country there was a Brahmin who had a cow. One day it so happened that the Brahmin’s cow strayed into the herd of cattle which belonged to the king. As was the custom of ancient rulers, charity of cattle and gold were given to people every day. One day the king gave some cattle in charity to a Brahmin, and it so happened that this stray cow was included. The Brahmin was leading this cow which was a gift from the king, and on the way the real owner came to know about it.

He said, “This is my cow. Why are you taking it?”

The reply was, “I don’t know anything. It was given to me by the king.”

The Brahmin went to the king and asked, “Why did you give my cow as a gift to somebody else?”

The king said, “I did not know that it was your cow. I never knew that your cow had strayed. Don’t get angry with me. I will give you one thousand cows. Don’t worry about this cow.”

The Brahmin replied, “I do not want one thousand cows. I want only my cow.”

It became a great predicament because the Brahmin who got the gift would not give it back. He said, “King, you have given it to me. Are you going back on your word?”

It is said that this peculiar moral crisis in which the king found himself made him a lizard in the next birth. What terrible punishment is this! This story is found in the Bhagavata. Sri Krishna touched the lizard, and it once again became the king.

There is also the story of Mandavya, the great sage. He was sitting in a corner, meditating. One day there was a theft in the treasury of the king. The priests and the army started searching for the culprit, and the thieves who took the treasure ran helter-skelter. Finally, they became afraid of being caught so they threw away the stolen treasure, and it happened to land near the sage who was meditating. The army found it, and concluded that the sage was the thief. They dragged him away and brought him before the king.

The king said, “Impale him immediately.”

In those days the king was the only judge, and he could pass any sentence. They impaled the sage on a spear. Mandavya was hanging there, but because of the great power of his meditation he did not die.

Finally his soul went to Yama, and he asked Yama, “For what wrong action of mine have you punished me with impalement? To my knowledge, I have never done any wrong action in my life. How has this kind of punishment been meted out to me? You have made some mistake!”

Yama replied, “You cannot recollect. When you were a child, you took a little broomstick and pierced a fly. Therefore, you have been pierced.”

“When did I do it?” asked the sage.

“You were about eleven years old,” Yama replied.

“Oh! You are punishing me for having done something without the knowledge that it was wrong. I was an innocent child. I did not know anything.”

“Innocent or not innocent, the law acts!”

Then, it is said, Mandavya furiously cursed the law and changed it so that in future, from that day onwards, no punishment would be meted out to anybody for a mistake that they committed before the age of fourteen years. This is Mandavya’s rule. Today there are judges to decide these cases. Anyway, the law of karma is very intricate: gahanā karmaṇo gatiḥ (4.17).

The reason why the fruit of an action should not be expected by us is that it is not in the hands of any one person. It is in the hands of a big cabinet of forces, as it were, as I mentioned earlier, and, finally, the will of the Supreme. Inasmuch as the fruit comes from all sides though the action proceeds from one side, we should not concentrate our minds on the fruit of the action.

Because our desired fruit is not going to accrue from our particular action, and we are disappointed because somebody is controlling the destiny of our actions, what is the good of doing anything at all? We will keep quiet. We should not be attached to action with the desire for fruit, nor should we be attached to non-action: mā karmaphalahetur bhūr mā te saṅgostv akarmaṇi (2.47). Attachment can be positive or negative. Even if we look at a thing, it is attachment. If we do not look at a thing, it is also attachment. Either way, it is a question of the mind working. Hence, action is a must, and we cannot keep quiet just because our cherished desire is not going to be fulfilled and it is in the hands of somebody else.

Thus, we are placed in a very difficult situation. But the Sankhya knowledge, when applied to the yoga of action, becomes a discipline whereby we free ourselves from this chaotic way of thinking and the fear that our actions may go wrong or our inaction may not be permitted. The discipline that is yoga follows from the knowledge of the Sankhya: eṣā te’bhihitā sāṅkhye buddhir yoge tvimāṁ śṛṇu (2.39). In the Bhagavadgita, yoga means action and sankhya means knowledge. All action should be based on knowledge. But, our actions are not based on the knowledge of the Sankhya. The knowledge of the Sankhya is the knowledge of our organic involvement in the whole of prakriti, in the entire creation. We should not forget this point. But what do we do, actually? When we start doing anything, we have some ulterior motive and an object in front of us. Whenever we think of an object, we have a desire to go near it and possess it: dhyāyato viṣayān puṁsaḥ saṅgas teṣūpajāyate(2.62).

When we contemplate an object—which is the only thing that we are doing every day, as some object or the other is on our mind—we do not think of the Universal principle involved in the object. Very few can do that. We think mostly in the exteriorised fashion of the sense organs working in terms of an object outside. The moment we think of an object, the desire of the sense organs increases. They want to possess it. Saṅgāt sañjāyate kāmaḥ (2.62). The desire to possess that particular object many a time comes in conflict with a similar desire that others may also have to possess it. There is some land. We want to possess it, and another person also wants to possess the same land. There is a clash. So there is a possibility of our coming in conflict with other people and other forces operating in the world due to our clinging to a particular object or a particular set of objects; and when there is an intervention from outside, we get angry: kāmāt krodho’bhijāyate (2.62). When we get angry, our intellect ceases to function: krodhād bhavati saṁmohaḥ (2.63). When our intellect ceases to function, we become bewildered in our understanding; saṁmohaḥ takes place. Sammohāt smṛtivibhramaḥ, smṛtibhraṁśād buddhināśo (2.63): We become idiots, as it were. Then there is a perishing of the very aim of the human individual.

There is a necessity, therefore, to maintain a balance in our attitude to things. Samatvaṁ yoga ucyate(2.48); yogaḥ karmasu kauśalam (2.50). These are two definitions of yoga in the Second Chapter. Balance of attitude is yoga; dexterity in the performance of action is yoga. The balance that is spoken of as yoga arises on account of our being rooted in the sankhya, or knowledge—which is to say, we are cosmically determined, and not individually motivated. This is the fault that Sri Krishna found in Arjuna: “You lack sankhya!” When our sankhya, or knowledge, is absent, we do not have a comprehensive vision of the things involved. That is to say, we never think in terms of universals; we think only in terms of particulars. The balance that is required in the practice of yoga arises automatically from the knowledge of our involvement in the cosmic structure of things; and then we become able, very dexterous and adroit in the performance of action. We will never make a mistake in the deeds that we do, because we have a comprehensive vision of the pros and cons of our actions. This is because our yoga, our action, is based on sankhya, or knowledge.

Such a person is a siddha purusha, a person established in perfect understanding. His understanding does not waver; it does not flicker. It is like the flame of a lamp in a windless place. Arjuna put the question: “What kind of person is this?” Prajahāti yadā kāmān sarvān pārtha manogatān, ātmanyevātmanā tuṣṭaḥ sthitaprajñas tadocyate (2.55): A person of stable understanding is one who wants not anything. Again, if we come to sankhya, or knowledge, the question of wanting is redundant in this world where everything is ours finally, and also nothing is ours, from another point of view. In a family of which we are a member, we cannot possess everything for ourselves, though everything is ours in one way. In a family we have the freedom to take whatever we want, yet we do not have the freedom to arrogate everything to ourselves. There is, therefore, a freedom together with a restriction.

The ability to perform right action is the same as the ability to maintain a balance of consciousness. No one can be an expert in the performance of action. Expertness means not committing a fault, taking into consideration all aspects of the matter, as I mentioned just now: the consequence, the intention, the reason behind the action, etc. An action that we perform should not be deleterious either to ourselves or to others. Sometimes we may ruin ourselves in the interest of the welfare of other people. Sometimes we may ruin other people in the interest of our own personal welfare. Neither of these things is permitted. Killing ourselves and killing another should be considered as equally culpable offenses. We have no right to kill ourselves, because as individuals we are as sacred as any other person with whom we can interfere. This is the judicial point of view of the spiritual outlook.

A sthitaprajna is a person who has become stable in understanding because of the absence of motivating desires. Kāmān sarvān pārtha: He abandons all the motivation for desires toward particular ends. When we desire the acquirement of particular ends, we forget that we are ignoring the other factors which also condition the fulfilment of our desire, about which I mentioned just now. So there will be resentment from other parts of nature which we have ignored in our attachment to the particular limited objective, and then we will suffer because of our action. Hence, all aspects of the action—the past, present and future aspects of the action, we may say—should be taken into consideration, and then we will feel that our participation as a duty in whatever station we are placed in society will automatically bring the desired fruit from the cosmic forces, and we need not have to dig the earth in order to cultivate fields. God, Who is the Supreme, will see that our stomachs are filled and our thirst is quenched, and we need not even think of the morrow because the morrow will take care of itself. Thinking of the morrow is thinking in terms of time, and we have already decided that thinking in terms of time is to invite death because time is the killing medium in life.

The soul does not think in terms of space and time and, therefore, we should not invite this unnecessary suffering by expecting a result of a particular action. “Today if I do something, tomorrow I will get something”—this idea must go because there is no tomorrow for our soul. All teaching is centred in this involvement of the soul in our action. That is called sankhya. Sankhya is nothing but the continuous action of our soul in every kind of action that we do. If the soul is outside and does not at all participate in our activities, and if our activities are only physical and sensory, then we will be like logs of wood in the ocean thrown here and there, not knowing which direction they will take.

That is a sthitaprajna, a person so established in yoga that he wants nothing because he has everything. When we have everything, we do not want anything. It is because we do not have everything that we have a particular desire for certain things. This sthitaprajna is one whose consciousness is established in the Soul of the cosmos and, therefore, he wants nothing. The question of wanting does not arise on account of his soul being everywhere: yena sarvam idaṁ tatam(2.17).

To him, this whole world looks like a dark dream, as it were. Where we see values, he does not see values; and where he sees values, we do not see values. For us, this world is the only reality, and God is a possible conceptuality. For him, God is the only reality, and the world is only a conceptuality. Yā niśā sarvabhūtānāṁ tasyāṁ jāgarti saṁyamī, yasyāṁ jāgrati bhūtāni sā niśā paśyato muneḥ (2.69): This world is a dream for him, while for us it is a hard, waking reality. For him, the Ultimate Supreme Essence is the final waking, but not for us who, like owls in the daytime, know not that the sun is shining. In the bright light of the solar orb, the owl sees nothing but darkness; similarly, in this dazzle of the Supreme Being everywhere, in this pervasive action of the soul of all things perpetually, we are totally blind. The very existence of it is obliterated, as it were. The soul’s existence is completely obliterated from our perception because our perception is sensory, whereas spiritual perception is an insight into the soul. Parāñci khāni vyatṛṇat svayambhūs tasmāt parāṅ paśyati nāntarātman: kaś cid dhīraḥ pratyag-ātmānam aikṣad (Katha 2.1.1). The Kathopanishad says that God has cursed us, as it were; Brahma cast an imprecation on every one of us by piercing the sense organs in an outward direction.

Why has he cursed us like that? It is an imprecation, the compulsion of the sense organs in the direction of what is not the Self. That is, the anatman, or the object, is so intense that we live in the world of the sense organs only. Therefore, we are in a world of death and destruction. Anityam asukhaṁ lokam (9.33); duḥkhālayam aśāśvatam (8.15). Anityam is the word that is used in the Bhagavadgita for what the world is. The world is not at all permanent, and we should not expect any permanent value in this world. It is engendered by sorrow from beginning to end. Asukhaṁ lokam, duḥkhālayam: This is the house of sorrow.

In a cloth shop, we can get cloth. In a cutlery shop, we can get cutlery. In a grocery shop, we can get groceries. But we cannot get what is not there. This world is the shop where there is sorrow—duḥkhālayam—and, therefore, we will reap only sorrow if we are tethered to the demands of the sense organs. The whole of yoga is nothing but the restraining of the powers of the sense organs, which compel us to think in terms of the anatman, and centring it in the Atman. It is a movement from the centrifugality of the sensory activity to the centripetality of the soul’s contemplation on itself. Tadā draṣṭuḥ svarūpe avasthānam; vṛtti sārūpyam itaratra (Y.S. 1.3-4). These are Patanjali’s sutras: When you are established in your own Self, the vrittis of the mind cease; but when you are not established in the Self, the mind operates in terms of the vrittis and compels you to know the world as an outside object, and at the same time compels you to want it or not want it. Ᾱpūryamāṇam acalapratiṣṭhaṁ samudram āpaḥ praviśanti yadvat, tadvat kāmā yaṁ praviśanti sarve sa śāntim āpnoti na kāmakāmī (2.70). Who will have peace in this world? Only that person can have peace into whom all desires conceivable in the world enter, like rivers enter into the ocean. “Let there be millions of desires; I shall absorb them into myself, into the Universality that I am, like the ocean.” Any number of rivers can touch the ocean, and the ocean is not tired of absorbing them. All the desires, together with the objects of desire, are melted down into this oceanic consciousness of the realisation of the sthitaprajnata. As the ocean is filled with the waters of all the rivers, so is the sthitaprajna filled with all the values that we can think of, earthly or heavenly. Most blessed is this state of being a realised soul—that is to say, a soul that has established itself in its own Universality, and therefore wants nothing, and therefore is the happiest person.