SRIMAD BHAGAWAD GITA CHAPTER 6(GITA.6)

SRIMAD BHAGAWAD GITA CHAPTER 6(Gita.6)

https://youtu.be/IbXKXplcnJk

SRIMAD BHAGAWAD GITA CHAPTER 6 

अथ षष्ठो‌உध्यायः ।

श्रीभगवानुवाच ।
अनाश्रितः कर्मफलं कार्यं कर्म करोति यः ।
स संन्यासी च योगी च न निरग्निर्न चाक्रियः ॥ 1 ॥

यं संन्यासमिति प्राहुर्योगं तं विद्धि पाण्डव ।
न ह्यसंन्यस्तसङ्कल्पो योगी भवति कश्चन ॥ 2 ॥

आरुरुक्षोर्मुनेर्योगं कर्म कारणमुच्यते ।
योगारूढस्य तस्यैव शमः कारणमुच्यते ॥ 3 ॥

यदा हि नेन्द्रियार्थेषु न कर्मस्वनुषज्जते ।
सर्वसङ्कल्पसंन्यासी योगारूढस्तदोच्यते ॥ 4 ॥

उद्धरेदात्मनात्मानं नात्मानमवसादयेत् ।
आत्मैव ह्यात्मनो बन्धुरात्मैव रिपुरात्मनः ॥ 5 ॥

बन्धुरात्मात्मनस्तस्य येनात्मैवात्मना जितः ।
अनात्मनस्तु शत्रुत्वे वर्तेतात्मैव शत्रुवत् ॥ 6 ॥

जितात्मनः प्रशान्तस्य परमात्मा समाहितः ।
शीतोष्णसुखदुःखेषु तथा मानापमानयोः ॥ 7 ॥

ज्ञानविज्ञानतृप्तात्मा कूटस्थो विजितेन्द्रियः ।
युक्त इत्युच्यते योगी समलोष्टाश्मकाञ्चनः ॥ 8 ॥

सुहृन्मित्रार्युदासीनमध्यस्थद्वेष्यबन्धुषु ।
साधुष्वपि च पापेषु समबुद्धिर्विशिष्यते ॥ 9 ॥

योगी युञ्जीत सततमात्मानं रहसि स्थितः ।
एकाकी यतचित्तात्मा निराशीरपरिग्रहः ॥ 10 ॥

शुचौ देशे प्रतिष्ठाप्य स्थिरमासनमात्मनः ।
नात्युच्छ्रितं नातिनीचं चैलाजिनकुशोत्तरम् ॥ 11 ॥

तत्रैकाग्रं मनः कृत्वा यतचित्तेन्द्रियक्रियाः ।
उपविश्यासने युञ्ज्याद्योगमात्मविशुद्धये ॥ 12 ॥

समं कायशिरोग्रीवं धारयन्नचलं स्थिरः ।
सम्प्रेक्ष्य नासिकाग्रं स्वं दिशश्चानवलोकयन् ॥ 13 ॥

प्रशान्तात्मा विगतभीर्ब्रह्मचारिव्रते स्थितः ।
मनः संयम्य मच्चित्तो युक्त आसीत मत्परः ॥ 14 ॥

युञ्जन्नेवं सदात्मानं योगी नियतमानसः ।
शान्तिं निर्वाणपरमां मत्संस्थामधिगच्छति ॥ 15 ॥

नात्यश्नतस्तु योगो‌உस्ति न चैकान्तमनश्नतः ।
न चातिस्वप्नशीलस्य जाग्रतो नैव चार्जुन ॥ 16 ॥

युक्ताहारविहारस्य युक्तचेष्टस्य कर्मसु ।
युक्तस्वप्नावबोधस्य योगो भवति दुःखहा ॥ 17 ॥

यदा विनियतं चित्तमात्मन्येवावतिष्ठते ।
निःस्पृहः सर्वकामेभ्यो युक्त इत्युच्यते तदा ॥ 18 ॥

यथा दीपो निवातस्थो नेङ्गते सोपमा स्मृता ।
योगिनो यतचित्तस्य युञ्जतो योगमात्मनः ॥ 19 ॥

यत्रोपरमते चित्तं निरुद्धं योगसेवया ।
यत्र चैवात्मनात्मानं पश्यन्नात्मनि तुष्यति ॥ 20 ॥

सुखमात्यन्तिकं यत्तद्बुद्धिग्राह्यमतीन्द्रियम् ।
वेत्ति यत्र न चैवायं स्थितश्चलति तत्त्वतः ॥ 21 ॥

यं लब्ध्वा चापरं लाभं मन्यते नाधिकं ततः ।
यस्मिन्स्थितो न दुःखेन गुरुणापि विचाल्यते ॥ 22 ॥

तं विद्याद्दुःखसंयोगवियोगं योगसञ्ज्ञितम् ।
स निश्चयेन योक्तव्यो योगो‌உनिर्विण्णचेतसा ॥ 23 ॥

सङ्कल्पप्रभवान्कामांस्त्यक्त्वा सर्वानशेषतः ।
मनसैवेन्द्रियग्रामं विनियम्य समन्ततः ॥ 24 ॥

शनैः शनैरुपरमेद्बुद्ध्या धृतिगृहीतया ।
आत्मसंस्थं मनः कृत्वा न किञ्चिदपि चिन्तयेत् ॥ 25 ॥

यतो यतो निश्चरति मनश्चञ्चलमस्थिरम् ।
ततस्ततो नियम्यैतदात्मन्येव वशं नयेत् ॥ 26 ॥

प्रशान्तमनसं ह्येनं योगिनं सुखमुत्तमम् ।
उपैति शान्तरजसं ब्रह्मभूतमकल्मषम् ॥ 27 ॥

युञ्जन्नेवं सदात्मानं योगी विगतकल्मषः ।
सुखेन ब्रह्मसंस्पर्शमत्यन्तं सुखमश्नुते ॥ 28 ॥

सर्वभूतस्थमात्मानं सर्वभूतानि चात्मनि ।
ईक्षते योगयुक्तात्मा सर्वत्र समदर्शनः ॥ 29 ॥

यो मां पश्यति सर्वत्र सर्वं च मयि पश्यति ।
तस्याहं न प्रणश्यामि स च मे न प्रणश्यति ॥ 30 ॥

सर्वभूतस्थितं यो मां भजत्येकत्वमास्थितः ।
सर्वथा वर्तमानो‌உपि स योगी मयि वर्तते ॥ 31 ॥

आत्मौपम्येन सर्वत्र समं पश्यति यो‌உर्जुन ।
सुखं वा यदि वा दुःखं स योगी परमो मतः ॥ 32 ॥

अर्जुन उवाच ।
यो‌உयं योगस्त्वया प्रोक्तः साम्येन मधुसूदन ।
एतस्याहं न पश्यामि चञ्चलत्वात्स्थितिं स्थिराम् ॥ 33 ॥

चञ्चलं हि मनः कृष्ण प्रमाथि बलवद्दृढम् ।
तस्याहं निग्रहं मन्ये वायोरिव सुदुष्करम् ॥ 34 ॥

श्रीभगवानुवाच ।
असंशयं महाबाहो मनो दुर्निग्रहं चलम् ।
अभ्यासेन तु कौन्तेय वैराग्येण च गृह्यते ॥ 35 ॥

असंयतात्मना योगो दुष्प्राप इति मे मतिः ।
वश्यात्मना तु यतता शक्यो‌உवाप्तुमुपायतः ॥ 36 ॥

अर्जुन उवाच ।
अयतिः श्रद्धयोपेतो योगाच्चलितमानसः ।
अप्राप्य योगसंसिद्धिं कां गतिं कृष्ण गच्छति ॥ 37 ॥

कच्चिन्नोभयविभ्रष्टश्छिन्नाभ्रमिव नश्यति ।
अप्रतिष्ठो महाबाहो विमूढो ब्रह्मणः पथि ॥ 38 ॥

एतन्मे संशयं कृष्ण छेत्तुमर्हस्यशेषतः ।
त्वदन्यः संशयस्यास्य छेत्ता न ह्युपपद्यते ॥ 39 ॥

श्रीभगवानुवाच ।
पार्थ नैवेह नामुत्र विनाशस्तस्य विद्यते ।
न हि कल्याणकृत्कश्चिद्दुर्गतिं तात गच्छति ॥ 40 ॥

प्राप्य पुण्यकृतां लोकानुषित्वा शाश्वतीः समाः ।
शुचीनां श्रीमतां गेहे योगभ्रष्टो‌உभिजायते ॥ 41 ॥

अथवा योगिनामेव कुले भवति धीमताम् ।
एतद्धि दुर्लभतरं लोके जन्म यदीदृशम् ॥ 42 ॥

तत्र तं बुद्धिसंयोगं लभते पौर्वदेहिकम् ।
यतते च ततो भूयः संसिद्धौ कुरुनन्दन ॥ 43 ॥

पूर्वाभ्यासेन तेनैव ह्रियते ह्यवशो‌உपि सः ।
जिज्ञासुरपि योगस्य शब्दब्रह्मातिवर्तते ॥ 44 ॥

प्रयत्नाद्यतमानस्तु योगी संशुद्धकिल्बिषः ।
अनेकजन्मसंसिद्धस्ततो याति परां गतिम् ॥ 45 ॥

तपस्विभ्यो‌உधिको योगी ज्ञानिभ्यो‌உपि मतो‌உधिकः ।
कर्मिभ्यश्चाधिको योगी तस्माद्योगी भवार्जुन ॥ 46 ॥

योगिनामपि सर्वेषां मद्गतेनान्तरात्मना ।
श्रद्धावान्भजते यो मां स मे युक्ततमो मतः ॥ 47 ॥

ॐ तत्सदिति श्रीमद्भगवद्गीतासूपनिषत्सु ब्रह्मविद्यायां योगशास्त्रे श्रीकृष्णार्जुनसंवादे

आत्मसंयमयोगो नाम षष्ठो‌உध्यायः ॥6 ॥

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https://youtu.be/iTMxKPcEsDE

VI

The Yoga of Meditation

Summary of Sixth Discourse

Sri Krishna emphasises once again that the Yogi or Sannyasin is one who has renounced the fruits of actions, not the actions themselves. The performance of actions without an eye on their fruits brings about the purification of the mind. Only a purified mind, a mind free from desires, can engage itself in constant meditation on the Atman. Desire gives rise to imagination or Sankalpa, which drives the soul into the field of action. Therefore, none can realise permanent freedom and tranquillity of mind without renouncing desires.

The lower self must be controlled by the higher Self. All the lower impulses of the body, mind and senses must be controlled by the power of the higher Self. Then the higher Self becomes one’s friend. He who has perfect control of the body, mind and senses and is united with God, sees God in all objects and beings. He sees inwardly that there is no difference between gold and stone, between friends and enemies, between the righteous and the unrighteous. He is perfectly harmonised.

Sri Krishna proceeds to give various practical hints as to the practice of meditation. The aspirant should select a secluded spot where there is no likelihood of disturbance. He should arrange his meditation seat properly and sit in a comfortable posture, with the head, neck and spine erect but not tensed. He should fix his purified mind on the Atman by concentrating between the eyebrows or on the tip of the nose.

The practice of Brahmacharya is absolutely necessary if one is to succeed in meditation. The conservation and transformation of the vital fluid into spiritual energy gives immense power of concentration. Fearlessness, too, is an essential quality on the Godward path. It is faith in the sustaining protection and Grace of God.

The aspirant is advised to practise moderation in his daily habits—in eating, sleeping, recreation, etc. Extremes are to be avoided as they hinder the practice of meditation. Living a life of such moderation, and gathering up all his forces and directing them towards meditation upon the Atman, the aspirant gradually transcends the senses and intellect and merges himself in the blissful Atman. He finds that the bliss of the Atman is incomparable, that there is no gain greater than the Self. Having thus attained perfect union with the Self, the Yogi no more descends into ignorance or delusion. He does not relish any more the pleasures of the senses.

Lord Krishna again emphasises that the concentration of the mind on the Atman should be like a steady flame in a windless place. This ultimately leads to the vision of the Lord in all beings and creatures. Arjuna is doubtful whether it is at all possible to engage the mind steadily on the higher Self, as its very nature seems to be one of restlessness. Krishna assures him that the practice can succeed through Vairagya (dispassion) and constant effort.

Arjuna wishes to know the fate of the aspirant who fails to realise the Supreme in spite of his faith and sincerity. Krishna tells him that the accumulated power of his Yogic practices will assure him a better birth in the future, with more favourable conditions for Sadhana. The aspirant will then be compelled to carry on his Yogic practices with greater vigour and faith and will finally achieve God-realisation.

Krishna concludes that the Yogi—one who has attained union with the Supreme Lord—is superior to the ascetics, to the men of book knowledge and the men of action, as the latter have not transcended ignorance and merged in the Self.

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Sri Bhagavaan Uvaacha:

Anaashritah karmaphalam kaaryam karma karoti yah; 
Sa sannyaasi cha yogee cha na niragnirna chaakriyah.

The Blessed Lord said:

1. He who performs his bounden duty without depending on the fruits of his actions—he is a Sannyasin and a Yogi, not he who is without fire and without action.

Yam sannyaasamiti praahuryogam tam viddhi paandava; 
Na hyasannyastasankalpo yogee bhavati kashchana.

2. Do thou, O Arjuna, know Yoga to be that which they call renunciation; no one verily becomes a Yogi who has not renounced thoughts!

COMMENTARY: Lord Krishna eulogises Karma Yoga here because it is a means or a stepping stone to the Yoga of meditation. In order to encourage the practice of Karma Yoga it is stated here that it is Sannyasa.

Aarurukshormuneryogam karma kaaranamuchyate; 
Yogaaroodhasya tasyaiva shamah kaaranamuchyate.

3. For a sage who wishes to attain to Yoga, action is said to be the means; for the same sage who has attained to Yoga, inaction (quiescence) is said to be the means.

Yadaa hi nendriyaartheshu na karmaswanushajjate; 
Sarvasankalpasannyaasee yogaaroodhas tadochyate.

4. When a man is not attached to the sense-objects or to actions, having renounced all thoughts, then he is said to have attained to Yoga.

Uddharedaatmanaatmaanam naatmaanamavasaadayet; 
Atmaiva hyaatmano bandhuraatmaiva ripuraatmanah.

5. Let a man lift himself by his own Self alone; let him not lower himself, for this self alone is the friend of oneself and this self alone is the enemy of oneself.

Bandhuraatmaa’tmanastasya yenaatmaivaatmanaa jitah; 
Anaatmanastu shatrutwe vartetaatmaiva shatruvat.

6. The self is the friend of the self for him who has conquered himself by the Self, but to the unconquered self, this self stands in the position of an enemy like the (external) foe.

Jitaatmanah prashaantasya paramaatmaa samaahitah; 
Sheetoshna sukha duhkheshu tathaa maanaapamaanayoh.

7. The Supreme Self of him who is self-controlled and peaceful is balanced in cold and heat, pleasure and pain, as also in honour and dishonour.

Jnaana vijnaana triptaatmaa kootastho vijitendriyah; 
Yuktah ityuchyate yogee samaloshtaashmakaanchanah.

8. The Yogi who is satisfied with the knowledge and the wisdom (of the Self), who has conquered the senses, and to whom a clod of earth, a piece of stone and gold are the same, is said to be harmonised (that is, is said to have attained the state of Nirvikalpa Samadhi).

Suhrinmitraary udaaseena madhyastha dweshya bandhushu; 
Saadhushwapi cha paapeshu samabuddhirvishishyate.

9. He who is of the same mind to the good-hearted, friends, enemies, the indifferent, the neutral, the hateful, the relatives, the righteous and the unrighteous, excels.

Yogee yunjeeta satatamaatmaanam rahasi sthitah; 
Ekaakee yatachittaatmaa niraasheeraparigrahah.

10. Let the Yogi try constantly to keep the mind steady, remaining in solitude, alone, with the mind and the body controlled, and free from hope and greed.

Shuchau deshe pratishthaapya sthiramaasanamaatmanah; 
Naatyucchritam naatineecham chailaajinakushottaram.

11. In a clean spot, having established a firm seat of his own, neither too high nor too low, made of a cloth, a skin and kusha grass, one over the other,

Tatraikaagram manah kritwaa yatachittendriyakriyah; 
Upavishyaasane yunjyaadyogamaatmavishuddhaye.

12. There, having made the mind one-pointed, with the actions of the mind and the senses controlled, let him, seated on the seat, practise Yoga for the purification of the self.

Samam kaayashirogreevam dhaarayannachalam sthirah; 
Samprekshya naasikaagram swam dishashchaanavalokayan.

13. Let him firmly hold his body, head and neck erect and perfectly still, gazing at the tip of his nose, without looking around.

Prashaantaatmaa vigatabheer brahmachaarivrate sthitah; 
Manah samyamya macchitto yukta aaseeta matparah.

14. Serene-minded, fearless, firm in the vow of a Brahmachari, having controlled the mind, thinking of Me and balanced in mind, let him sit, having Me as his supreme goal.

Yunjannevam sadaa’tmaanam yogee niyatamaanasah; 
Shaantim nirvaanaparamaam matsamsthaamadhigacchati.

15. Thus, always keeping the mind balanced, the Yogi, with the mind controlled, attains to the peace abiding in Me, which culminates in liberation.

Naatyashnatastu yogo’sti nachaikaantamanashnatah; 
Na chaatiswapnasheelasya jaagrato naiva chaarjuna.

16. Verily Yoga is not possible for him who eats too much, nor for him who does not eat at all; nor for him who sleeps too much, nor for him who is (always) awake, O Arjuna!

Yuktaahaaravihaarasya yuktacheshtasya karmasu; 
Yuktaswapnaavabodhasya yogo bhavati duhkhahaa.

17. Yoga becomes the destroyer of pain for him who is always moderate in eating and recreation (such as walking, etc.), who is moderate in exertion in actions, who is moderate in sleep and wakefulness.

Yadaa viniyatam chittamaatmanyevaavatishthate; 
Nihsprihah sarvakaamebhyo yukta ityuchyate tadaa.

18. When the perfectly controlled mind rests in the Self only, free from longing for the objects of desire, then it is said: “He is united.”

COMMENTARY: Without union with the Self neither harmony nor balance nor Samadhi is possible.

Yathaa deepo nivaatastho nengate sopamaa smritaa; 
Yogino yatachittasya yunjato yogamaatmanah.

19. As a lamp placed in a windless spot does not flicker—to such is compared the Yogi of controlled mind, practising Yoga in the Self (or absorbed in the Yoga of the Self).

COMMENTARY: This is a beautiful simile which Yogis often quote when they talk of concentration or one-pointedness of mind.

Yatroparamate chittam niruddham yogasevayaa; 
Yatra chaivaatmanaa’tmaanam pashyannaatmani tushyati.

20. When the mind, restrained by the practice of Yoga, attains to quietude, and when, seeing the Self by the Self, he is satisfied in his own Self,

Sukhamaatyantikam yattad buddhi graahyamateendriyam; 
Vetti yatra na chaivaayam sthitashchalati tattwatah.

21. When he (the Yogi) feels that infinite bliss which can be grasped by the (pure) intellect and which transcends the senses, and, established wherein he never moves from the Reality,

Yam labdhwaa chaaparam laabham manyate naadhikam tatah; 
Yasmin sthito na duhkhena gurunaapi vichaalyate.

22. Which, having obtained, he thinks there is no other gain superior to it; wherein established, he is not moved even by heavy sorrow,—

Tam vidyaad duhkhasamyogaviyogam yogasamjnitam; 
Sa nishchayena yoktavyo yogo’nirvinna chetasaa.

23. Let that be known by the name of Yoga, the severance from union with pain. This Yoga should be practised with determination and with an undesponding mind.

Sankalpaprabhavaan kaamaan styaktwaa sarvaan asheshatah; 
Manasaivendriyagraamam viniyamya samantatah.

24. Abandoning without reserve all the desires born of Sankalpa, and completely restraining the whole group of senses by the mind from all sides,

COMMENTARY: The mind is so diplomatic that it keeps certain desires for its secret gratification. So one should completely abandon all desires without reservation.

Shanaih shanairuparamed buddhyaa dhritigriheetayaa; 
Aatmasamstham manah kritwaa na kinchidapi chintayet.

25. Little by little let him attain to quietude by the intellect held firmly; having made the mind establish itself in the Self, let him not think of anything.

Yato yato nishcharati manashchanchalamasthiram; 
Tatastato niyamyaitad aatmanyeva vasham nayet.

26. From whatever cause the restless, unsteady mind wanders away, from that let him restrain it and bring it under the control of the Self alone.

Prashaantamanasam hyenam yoginam sukhamuttamam; 
Upaiti shaantarajasam brahmabhootamakalmasham.

27. Supreme bliss verily comes to this Yogi whose mind is quite peaceful, whose passion is quieted, who has become Brahman, and who is free from sin.

Yunjannevam sadaa’tmaanam yogee vigatakalmashah; 
Sukhena brahmasamsparsham atyantam sukham ashnute.

28. The Yogi, always engaging the mind thus (in the practice of Yoga), freed from sins, easily enjoys the infinite bliss of contact with Brahman (the Eternal).

Sarvabhootasthamaatmaanam sarvabhootaani chaatmani; 
Eekshate yogayuktaatmaa sarvatra samadarshanah.

29. With the mind harmonised by Yoga he sees the Self abiding in all beings and all beings in the Self; he sees the same everywhere.

Yo maam pashyati sarvatra sarvam cha mayi pashyati; 
Tasyaaham na pranashyaami sa cha me na pranashyati.

30. He who sees Me everywhere and sees everything in Me, he does not become separated from Me nor do I become separated from him.

COMMENTARY: The Lord describes here the effect of oneness.

Sarvabhootasthitam yo maam bhajatyekatwamaasthitah; 
Sarvathaa vartamaano’pi sa yogee mayi vartate.

31. He who, being established in unity, worships Me who dwells in all beings,—that Yogi abides in Me, whatever may be his mode of living.

Aatmaupamyena sarvatra samam pashyati yo’rjuna; 
Sukham vaa yadi vaa duhkham sa yogee paramo matah.

32. He who, through the likeness of the Self, O Arjuna, sees equality everywhere, be it pleasure or pain, he is regarded as the highest Yogi!

Arjuna Uvaacha:

Yo’yam yogastwayaa proktah saamyena madhusoodana; 
Etasyaaham na pashyaami chanchalatwaat sthitim sthiraam.

Arjuna said:

33. This Yoga of equanimity taught by Thee, O Krishna, I do not see its steady continuance, because of restlessness (of the mind)!

Chanchalam hi manah krishna pramaathi balavad dridham; 
Tasyaaham nigraham manye vaayoriva sudushkaram.

34. The mind verily is restless, turbulent, strong and unyielding, O Krishna! I deem it as difficult to control as to control the wind.

COMMENTARY: The mind ever changes its point of concentration from one object to another. So it is always restless. It is not only restless but also turbulent and impetuous, strong and obstinate. It produces agitation in the body and in the senses. That is why the mind is even more difficult to control than to control the wind.

Sri Bhagavaan Uvaacha:

Asamshayam mahaabaaho mano durnigraham chalam; 
Abhyaasena tu kaunteya vairaagyena cha grihyate.

The Blessed Lord said:

35. Undoubtedly, O mighty-armed Arjuna, the mind is difficult to control and restless; but, by practice and by dispassion it may be restrained!

Asamyataatmanaa yogo dushpraapa iti me matih; 
Vashyaatmanaa tu yatataa shakyo’vaaptumupaayatah.

36. I think that Yoga is hard to be attained by one of uncontrolled self, but the self~controlled and striving one attains to it by the (proper) means.

Arjuna Uvaacha:

Ayatih shraddhayopeto yogaacchalitamaanasah; 
Apraapya yogasamsiddhim kaam gatim krishna gacchati.

Arjuna said:

37. He who is unable to control himself though he has the faith, and whose mind wanders away from Yoga, what end does he meet, having failed to attain perfection in Yoga, O Krishna?

Kacchinnobhayavibhrashtash cchinnaabhramiva nashyati; 
Apratishtho mahaabaaho vimoodho brahmanah pathi.

38. Fallen from both, does he not perish like a rent cloud, supportless, O mighty-armed (Krishna), deluded on the path of Brahman?

Etanme samshayam krishna cchettumarhasyasheshatah; 
Twadanyah samshayasyaasya cchettaa na hyupapadyate.

39. This doubt of mine, O Krishna, do Thou completely dispel, because it is not possible for any but Thee to dispel this doubt.

COMMENTARY: There is no better teacher than the Lord Himself as He is omniscient.

Sri Bhagavaan Uvaacha:

Paartha naiveha naamutra vinaashas tasya vidyate; 
Nahi kalyaanakrit kashchid durgatim taata gacchati.

The Blessed Lord said:

40. O Arjuna, neither in this world, nor in the next world is there destruction for him; none, verily, who does good, O My son, ever comes to grief!

Praapya punyakritaam lokaanushitwaa shaashwateeh samaah; 
Shucheenaam shreemataam gehe yogabhrashto’bhijaayate.

41. Having attained to the worlds of the righteous and, having dwelt there for everlasting years, he who fell from Yoga is reborn in the house of the pure and wealthy.

Athavaa yoginaameva kule bhavati dheemataam; 
Etaddhi durlabhataram loke janma yadeedrisham.

42. Or he is born in a family of even the wise Yogis; verily a birth like this is very difficult to obtain in this world.

Tatra tam buddhisamyogam labhate paurvadehikam; 
Yatate cha tato bhooyah samsiddhau kurunandana.

43. There he comes in touch with the knowledge acquired in his former body and strives more than before for perfection, O Arjuna!

Poorvaabhyaasena tenaiva hriyate hyavasho’pi sah; 
Jijnaasurapi yogasya shabdabrahmaativartate.

44. By that very former practice he is borne on in spite of himself. Even he who merely wishes to know Yoga transcends the Brahmic word.

COMMENTARY: One who had fallen from Yoga is carried to the goal (which he intended to reach in his previous birth), by the force of the impressions of his past Yogic practices, though he may be unconscious of it and may not be willing to adopt the course of Yogic discipline due to the force of some evil Karma.

Prayatnaadyatamaanastu yogee samshuddhakilbishah; 
Anekajanmasamsiddhas tato yaati paraam gatim.

45. But, the Yogi who strives with assiduity, purified of sins and perfected gradually through many births, reaches the highest goal.

Tapaswibhyo’dhiko yogee jnaanibhyo’pi mato’dhikah; 
Karmibhyashchaadhiko yogee tasmaad yogee bhavaarjuna.

46. The Yogi is thought to be superior to the ascetics and even superior to men of knowledge (obtained through the study of scriptures); he is also superior to men of action; therefore, be thou a Yogi, O Arjuna!

Yoginaamapi sarveshaam madgatenaantaraatmanaa; 
Shraddhaavaan bhajate yo maam sa me yuktatamo matah.

47. And among all the Yogis, he who, full of faith and with his inner self merged in Me, worships Me, he is deemed by Me to be the most devout.

Hari Om Tat Sat
Iti Srimad Bhagavadgeetaasoopanishatsu Brahmavidyaayaam
Yogashaastre Sri Krishnaarjunasamvaade
Aatmasamyamayogo Naama Shashtho’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 sixth discourse entitled:

“The Yoga of Meditation”

---

Swami Sivananda.

https://youtu.be/C1PRDbuWBFw

Commentary on the Bhagavadgita

by Swami Krishnananda

Discourse 14: The Sixth Chapter Begins – The Characteristics of a Sannyasi and a Yogi

śrībhagavānuvāca
anāśritaḥ karmaphalaṁ kāryaṁ karma karoti yaḥ
sa sannyāsī ca yogī ca na niragnir na cākriyaḥ (6.1)
yaṁ sannyāsam iti prāhur yogaṁ taṁ viddhi pāṇḍava
na hy asaṁnyastasaṁkalpo yogī bhavati kaścana (6.2)
ārurukṣor muner yogaṁ karma kāraṇam ucyate
yogārūḍhasya tasyaiva śamaḥ kāraṇam ucyate (6.3)
yadā hi nendriyārtheṣu na karmasvanuṣajjate
sarvasaṅkalpa sannyāsī yogārūḍhas tadocyate (6.4)
uddhared ātmanātmānaṁ nātmānam avasādayet
ātmaiva hyātmano bandhur ātmaiva ripur ātmanaḥ (6.5)
bandhur ātmātmanas tasya yenātmaivātmanā jitaḥ
anātmanas tu śatrutve vartetātmaiva śatruvat (6.6)
jitātmanaḥ praśāntasya paramātmā samāhitaḥ
śītoṣṇasukhaduḥkheṣu tathā mānāpamānayoḥ (6.7)

This Sixth Chapter, which we are commencing now, is a culmination of the very spirit of the first six chapters of the Bhagavadgita. The first six chapters of the Bhagavadgita deal with the discipline of the human individual. It starts with the lowest condition, as is described in the First Chapter, which is a state of conflict. From the state of conflict, the mind is gradually raised to the necessity to have knowledge of a wider perspective of things. Greater and greater detail about this is provided in the Third Chapter, even more detail is provided in the Fourth Chapter, and an even wider detail on the very same theme is given to us in the Fifth Chapter. Bandhur ātmātmanas tasya yenātmaivātmanā jitaḥ, anātmanas tu śatrutve vartetātmaiva śatruvat. All these are graduated descriptions of the ascending series of self-discipline that is absolutely necessary to become totally disciplined in one’s own individuality.

Our psychological apparatus is not aligned properly; it is mostly disarrayed. The non-alignment of the psyche consists of various functions—understanding, feeling, willing, etc.—and their not being in a state of psychological mutual collaboration splits the personality into fractions. Therefore, a person who is not properly integrated in his psyche behaves differently in different conditions, and one cannot know which mood a person will put on at what time because of the possibility of putting on different contours of behaviour. This is because of the fact that people generally live a fractional life; they never live a whole life. They are either emotionally moody or disturbed in some other way, or they are arrogant due to their understanding and their academic qualification or wealth or power, etc. Under different conditions they behave in different ways, the emphasis being laid on one or another aspect of the mind. This is the characteristic of an undisciplined mind, a mind that has been dissected into little pieces of behaviour and conduct due to a non-aligned personality, a disturbed personality, an undecided personality, a changing personality, an unsettled personality and, finally, an unhappy personality.

This has to be gradually overcome by a process of integrating the so-called fractions of the mind into a gestalt, as it is called in modern psychology, so that all thinking becomes a total thinking. Towards the achievement of total thinking, the chapters gradually take us to higher and higher levels, as medical treatment gradually moves in an ascending order from the worst of conditions, which is the illness of a patient, towards a gradual improvement in health, until it becomes total perfect health.

The final integration process is described in the Sixth Chapter. We are still only in an individual state. In the first six chapters we are not told what is beyond the individual, as there is no use speaking of what is beyond an individual to someone who is incapable of receiving this knowledge. What is beyond the individual is not an individual. Therefore, it is not possible for an ordinary split personality to receive knowledge of higher realities that are super-individual. So it becomes necessary to prepare oneself for the reception of this knowledge through graduated training in psychological integration; and the highest integration is achieved through dhyana, or meditation, which is the subject of the Sixth Chapter.

Anāśritaḥ karmaphalaṁ kāryaṁ karma karoti yaḥ, sa sannyāsī ca yogī ca na niragnir na cākriyaḥ. In ancient India, Sannyasins were supposed to be in a mature condition, transcending the Brahmacharya, Grihastha and Vanaprastha stages. The Grihastha, or the householder, maintains a sacred fire which is to be worshipped every day. When he takes Sannyasa, he no longer worships that fire. This verse says that merely because a person does not maintain a fire, it does not follow that he is a Sannyasin. Na niragnir na cākriyaḥ: A Sannyasin is supposed to be a person who does not take part in active work of any kind. The verse says that, in this regard, it does not mean that a person is a Sannyasin merely because he does not do any work.

In the traditional pattern, there are two characteristics of Sannyasa. A Sannyasin does not do any work in the ordinary social sense, nor does he worship fire as a householder does. So can one give up doing any work, and give up worshipping the fire of the householder, and say that one is a Sannyasin? Bhagavan Sri Krishna says here that it does not follow that a person is a Sannyasin merely because he has given up fire worship and he is not doing any work. The characteristics of Sannyasa do not mean non-work, nor do they mean the non-worship of fire. The characteristics of Sannyasa are an internal illumination, a maturity of thought, and a widening of perspective. It is an internal achievement, and not an outward performance.

When a person does not depend on the fruits of an action—anāśritaḥ karmaphalaṁ—and yet goes on doing the work for the welfare of the world, he may be considered to be a Sannyasin. That is, work does not in any way hinder a person from being a Sannyasin; but work hinders if it is done with an ulterior motive for achieving some future fruit. Not depending on the fruit of action, we have to engage ourselves in action. This has been described in detail in the earlier chapters. The duty that is incumbent upon an individual is performed. Duty is a must on the part of every individual. There are different types of duty that are called for—physical, psychological, social—and these duties are incumbent on the individual merely because of the fact that the individual exists in an environment which calls for such work or duty.

Therefore, such a person can be called a Sannyasi—sa sannyāsī—such a person can be called a yogi—ca yogī—who performs duty for duty’s sake, and works not with a motive for the fruit. But a Sannyasi is not necessarily a person who does not do any work and keeps quiet, nor is a Sannyasi a person who does not perform the rituals of a householder. External dissociation does not mean internal illumination. Yoga and Sannyasa are internally connected: yaṁ sannyāsam iti prāhur yogaṁ taṁ viddhi pāṇḍava. Sannyasa and yoga finally mean one and the same thing in the sense that a person who has not totally withdrawn himself from attachments of every kind cannot unite himself with the cosmic spirit. The union that we attempt with the cosmic spirit is yoga, but this cannot be attempted unless there is a total detachment of the consciousness of the individual from involvement in external objects. Yaṁ sannyāsam iti prāhur yogaṁ taṁ viddhi pāṇḍava: Whatever is called Sannyasa is also called yoga, and whatever is yoga is also Sannyasa. A person who is united with the cosmic reality is automatically detached from every kind of sense contact; and conversely, a person whose consciousness is totally detached from contact with objects is also a yogi because he enters into a wider dimension of experience due to the withdrawal of consciousness from sense contact.

Yaṁ sannyāsam iti prāhur yogaṁ taṁ viddhi pāṇḍava, na hy asaṁnyastasaṁkalpo yogī bhavati kaścana. A Sannyasin has another quality: he does not will that something has to be done. He has no volition in any particular direction. He does not decide that something should be ‘like this’, and he does not decide that it should not be ‘like this’. Such a decision, such a determination, such a wish does not arise in his mind. He has no sankalpa. Sankalpa means a kind of desire-filled determination of the will. As a Sannyasin does not have any desire, he cannot have a determination in respect of doing something and avoiding something else. The Sannyasin, having withdrawn his self from contact with sense objects, cannot have a desire to decide matters in favour of certain things or against certain other things. Na hy asaṁnyastasaṁkalpo yogī bhavati kaścana: A person who is asaṁnyasta-saṅkalpa—that is, a person who has not freed himself from this desire-filled willing in terms of achievements in the world—such a person who has not attained this freedom cannot become a yogi.

We cannot commune ourselves with realities until we are free from contact with unrealities. We cannot attain to the Self until we are free from the clutches of the non-Self. We cannot attain the Atman until we are free from contact with the anatman. We cannot attain the Universal until we are free from clutches of the external. The external and the Universal are opposites, and the externality that characterises ordinary sense perception precludes all possibility of Universal Consciousness. Therefore, a person who is not a Sannyasi—that means to say, a person who has not freed himself from desire for contact with objects of sense—such a person also cannot become a yogi. This is because yoga is union with Reality, and that is possible only if one is free from the life of unreality, which demands attachment to things, etc.

Yaṁ sannyāsam iti prāhur yogaṁ taṁ viddhi pāṇḍava: “O Pandava Arjuna! Know that whatever is Sannyasa, that is also yoga.” Perfect renunciation is the same as perfect attainment. The highest achievement is effected through the highest renunciation. The total withdrawal from contact with externals is automatically contact with the Universal, and contact with externals is automatically an obliteration of the consciousness of the Universal. Thus it is that Sannyasa and yoga are identical in their meaning, and one who is not one also cannot be the other: na hy asaṁnyastasaṁkalpo yogī bhavati kaścana.

Ᾱrurukṣor muner yogaṁ karma kāraṇam ucyate, yogārūḍhasya tasyaiva śamaḥ kāraṇam ucyate. This is a very difficult verse, whose meaning has been brought out in various commentaries on the Bhagavadgita. Literally, this verse means that action is the means to perfection for a person who attempts to practise yoga, and non-action is supposed to be the characteristic of a person who has already attained yoga. This is the literal translation. God, in the form of Bhagavan Sri Krishna teaching the Bhagavadgita, does not propagate non-action, as we have already seen. Therefore, we cannot interpret the word ‘śama’ as absence of activity, although many a commentator has thought that śama, which means internal tranquillity, automatically means withdrawal from external activity. This is what commentators generally say. But we cannot conclude that the word ‘śama’, or tranquillity, which is supposed to be the characteristic of one who is established in yoga, is opposed to activity or work, because throughout the Gita the point is hammered into our ears again and again that inaction does not mean yoga, and inaction does not mean Sannyasa. Hence, the state of total, perfect establishment in yoga should not necessarily be interpreted as a state of total negativity, or absence of action.

The other day, I gave you a homely example of intense activity appearing as no activity at all. The higher forms of activity do not look like the ordinary activities of a labourer in a field. Even in ordinary parlance, a person who is sitting quietly on a chair in an office may be doing greater work than a labourer carrying bricks on the road, although visibly the labourer is doing more work than a person sitting in an office. This is because a person who administrates a big office works in a different way and in a different realm altogether. His actions are of a higher quality, though in quantum it appears as if the bricklayer is more active. As the level of administration rises higher and higher, it may appear less and less active to the onlooker, though in quality it is actually an increase in a person’s responsibility—and responsibility is the same as work.

When a person is beginning to practise yoga, there are preparatory actions of self-purification—ārurukṣu—which are: sandhya vandana, or the daily worship in the morning and evening; worship of Suryanarayana through surya namaskara, etc.; Gayatri japa, etc.; and in the case of a householder, the performance of the pancha mahayajnas and the worship of the holy fire, and charity. All these activities are the visible forms of work that are self-purifying in their nature because these actions are done with no motive for the fruit of action. These actions are done as a perfect duty and, therefore, it purifies the self; and this kind of purifying activity is supposed to be a means to perfection in the case of a person who is attempting to practise yoga.

In the case of a person who is totally established, action is not supposed to be the means. Śama, or tranquillity, is the means. ‘Tranquillity’ is a very intriguing word because, as I mentioned, various commentaries have looked upon it from various perspectives. But keeping in view the total vision of the intention of the Bhagavadgita, we should consider the life of Bhagavan Sri Krishna as the best commentary of the Bhagavadgita. There is no commentary on the Gita greater than the life of Bhagavan Sri Krishna himself. How did he live? This is perhaps his intention in teaching the Bhagavadgita. He wants us to be a Bhagavan Sri Krishna ourselves, and to think and act as he thought and acted. In my opinion, Sri Krishna’s life is perhaps the best commentary on the Gita, and not any other commentary, academic or otherwise.

Sri Krishna was a total inclusive personality. Was Sri Krishna a householder? Was he a Sannyasin? Was he a warrior? Was he a saint? Was he a Brahmin or a Kshatriya? What kind of person was Bhagavan Sri Krishna? We will not be able to have a straight answer to this because it is an incarnation of the Absolute that came in the form of Sri Krishna. The Absolute does not behave like a householder, and it does not behave like a Sannyasin. It does not behave like a person who keeps quiet. It may appear to behave like a warrior, but it does not mean that it is really behaving like a warrior. It is calm and quiet—utter tranquillity. And, the Brahmana-Kshatriya distinction does not apply. As a matter of fact, from a purely physical point of view, Sri Krishna was a Kshatriya, and not a Brahmin. Sri Rama was also a Kshatriya.

The power that Sri Krishna wielded is commensurate with the knowledge that he had. Sri Krishna was a mastermind who had the power to contact even Brahma, Vishnu and Siva. He could immediately contact these great gods, and he could work on earth as a labourer in the battlefield, driving Arjuna’s chariot with five horses into the battle. He could speak the highest philosophy as in the Bhagavadgita, and he could be in his palace in Dvaraka like an emperor. He could be like a child, a baby in the lap of Yasoda. He could be a terror to wicked people like Kamsa. What kind of person was he? It is like asking what kind of person God is. Our minds are not fit to accommodate these characteristics of total personalities. We call these people supermen. Since supermen do not behave like men, we should not interpret their behaviour in terms of human behaviour. Many people read the Mahabharata and say that Krishna did this and Krishna did that. They are judging things from the human point of view. It was a superhuman intervention of divinity that behaved in the necessary fashion from the cosmic point of view and, therefore, any kind of human ethics should not be applied to divine activities.

Thus, Sri Krishna was not an inactive person; nor can we say he was an active person restlessly moving about here and there, trying to uplift the world, doing charity, and building hospitals or schools and colleges. Neither was he that type of person, nor was he the type who kept quiet without doing any service. And no Sannyasin could equal him. Millions of Sannyasins could not stand before him, and yet he was a general and a field marshal. What a contradiction: a Sannyasin behaving like a field marshal before whom no warrior could stand! No Sannyasin could stand before him, no yogi could stand before him, and even the gods could not stand before him. What kind of a person was he? This is the kind of personality that he wants us to become, and that state is the ultimate tranquillity that we achieve in the condition of establishment in yoga: the divine tranquillity of God Himself, Who is not a restless individual. Yogārūḍhatva is a state of utter tranquillity in the divine sense, not in the sense of absence of activity, because we cannot say that God is free from activity. Varta eva ca karmaṇi (3.22): “I am always busy,” is what Lord Krishna tells Arjuna. But his being busy is totally different from our being busy—because we are busy physically, socially and psychologically, but Lord Krishna is the Absolute itself working. We cannot know how the Absolute acts because its action is within itself and, therefore, it may look like non-action. An action that is taking place within itself is no longer an action, and yet it is a tremendous action, a most heightened form of action. But because it is the highest form of action, it looks like no action. Śama, which is the tranquillity that is spoken of here as the characteristic of a perfect yogi, is to be understood in this sense. This is my own individual commentary based on my own insight, as it were, and not based on any book or academic knowledge. My feeling about it is that we have to work like God Himself, and that is what Bhagavan Sri Krishna is telling us in the Bhagavadgita: yogārūḍhasya tasyaiva śamaḥ kāraṇam ucyate.

Yadā hi nendriyārtheṣu na karmasvanuṣajjate, sarvasaṅkalpasannyāsī yogārūḍhas tadocyate: This state is when there is no contact of the senses with objects, and we do not see anything even with open eyes. We can keep our eyes open, and yet see nothing. Our ears can be open, and yet we hear nothing. This is possible. Opening the eyes and apparently looking at things, but yet seeing nothing, is called sambhavi mudra. People say that Ramana Maharishi was doing sambhavi mudra. He would appear to look at things with open eyes, but he was seeing nothing. The mind becomes withdrawn from the outer organ which is the eye. Similarly, we may not even hear a gunshot if the mind is concentrated on something and does not register the sound of the gunshot. When the sense organs do not receive reports from outside objects, when a person is not attached to the activities of the sense organs, and does not get attached to any kind of ordinary fruit-yielding actions—yadā hi nendriyārtheṣu na karmasvanuṣajjate; when a person is rid of all decisions in a particular direction—that things should be ‘like this’ or should be ‘like that’, and feels that either way is all right—such a person who has no particular will in any given direction is called a sarvasaṅkalpasannyāsī, and he is also called yogārūḍha, established in yoga.

Uddhared ātmanātmānaṁ nātmānam avasādayet, ātmaiva hyātmano bandhur ātmaiva ripur ātmanaḥ. Never feel despondent. Never complain that you are not able to achieve anything in meditation. Do not put on a sour and castor-oil face, as Swami Sivanandaji Maharaj used to say. He used to say, “Don’t put on a Sunday face.” Do not feel diffident. Do not feel discomfiture within yourself that you have come to the ashram and have been practising yoga under the guidance of Swami Sivanandaji Maharaj’s blessings for so many years but you have achieved nothing. This kind of feeling should not arise. How do you know that you have not achieved anything?

There was a person called Madhusudhana Saraswati, and a person called Vidyaranya. They did twenty-four purascharanas of Gayatri, and no divinity appeared before them. They were great masters, more powerful in their minds than any one of us. They were wonderstruck that after so much tapasya they had no experience at all.

A voice said, “You shall not have a vision of me in this life.”

The person who was called Vidyaranya, who wrote the Panchadasi and other works, was known as Madhava in his pre-Sannyasa days. He was a very learned person. His brother, called Sayana, wrote a commentary on all the four Vedas. They must have been geniuses. We cannot imagine such great wisdom.

Madhava did Gayatri purascharana for attaining siddhi, and a voice said, “You shall not have a vision of me in this life.”

He got disgusted that after having done so much, nothing had come. He took Sannyasa.

When he took Sannyasa, immediately the divinity appeared and asked, “Why are you doing do much purascharana? What do you want from me?”

To that Madhava said, “You said that you will not appear before me in this birth.”

“But this is a second birth,” the voice said. “You have taken another birth. Therefore, I came.”

“I want nothing now,” said Vidyaranya. “I was a poor man. As the householder Madhava, I would have certainly asked for wealth and riches, and anything that would make me prosperous. But I have taken to renunciation, the path of Sannyasa. Now I cannot ask for anything. So I am very sorry, great divinity. You have come too late, and now I cannot ask anything from you.”

But the divinity said, “I cannot go without giving something. When I appear, I must give something before going.”

“But I cannot ask for anything.”

“You must ask for something.”

“But I want nothing.”

Then the divinity said, “Because you want nothing, you shall have everything,” and it vanished. And Vidyaranya became omniscient.

What I mean is, you should not say that after twenty-four purascharanas you have achieved nothing. Some pratibandhaka karma, some rajasic karma of your previous birth has obstructed the appearance of divinity, but it does not mean that you have not progressed. The purascharanas have destroyed your sins, and when all the obstacles have been eliminated completely, immediately illumination will come. This was the case with Buddha also. The day before illumination, he felt as if everything was a waste. He was crawling like a half-dead man, and he felt that all the tapasya that he had done was a waste; but that very night he had illumination. As they say, the night is darkest just before sunrise. It does not mean that it is really dark; illumination is to immediately take place. So even if after many years of meditation in an ashram you have achieved nothing, it does not mean that really you have achieved nothing. You have achieved something; some obstacle is there which is being eliminated gradually. So do not be despondent. Do not complain about yourself. Do not complain against God, and do not be diffident. Do not have a lack of faith in the scriptures, in the Guru, and in God.

Raise yourself: uddhared ātmanātmānaṁ. Always be positive in your nature: “I am strong. I am healthy. I can walk three miles without any fatigue, and I can digest any food that is given in the kitchen. I have no problem.” Swami Sivanandaji Maharaj used to say, “My disciple can digest any food. He can wash vessels better than any servant. He can walk three miles and not feel any fatigue. He can type better than a good typist. He can speak better than professors. Such is my disciple. My disciple is not a diffident man; he is a very confident man. My disciple is unequalled in any field.” So he is a genius, almost like a superman.

Therefore, uddhared ātmanātmānaṁ nātmānam avasādayet. Never become depressed. “It is a waste! So much japa has been done. What is the good of it? God may be there or may not be. I don’t understand anything. The scriptures may be saying a hundred things. I don’t know which path to pursue. This Guru has been telling me something, but finally he has brought nothing. I will go to another Guru, and I will stay in some other place. I will go to Uttarkashi. I will go to Benares.”

These kinds of ideas should not arise in the mind. You should feel, “I have taken to this path, and I am sure that I will get it.” If there is no visible progress, it is due to some rajasic karma operating in you. It does not mean that no progress has been made. So do not deprecate yourself. Never condemn yourself. Do not say that you are a sinner. “I am not a sinner. I am a disciple of a Guru and a devotee of God, and I will attain the final liberation one day. So why should I think that I am unfit? I am as fit as anybody else.” Have this confidence, and you will really become that—because what you think you are, that you really become.

Uddhared ātmanātmānaṁ nātmānam avasādayet: Never deprecate yourself. Raise yourself by the power of the Self. Uddhared ātmanātmānaṁ nātmānam avasādayet, ātmaiva hytmano bandhur ātmaiva ripur ātmanaḥ: You are the friend of yourself and you are the enemy of yourself. If you go on condemning yourself, you are actually becoming the enemy of your own self; but if you raise yourself with the power of the spirit of higher aspiration, you are becoming the friend of yourself. You will be healthy, strong and prosperous.

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Discourse 15: The Sixth Chapter Continues – Requirements for the Practice of Meditation

uddhared ātmanātmānaṁ nātmānam avasādayet
ātmaiva hyātmano bandhur ātmaiva ripur ātmanaḥ (6.5)
bandhur ātmātmanas tasya yenātmaivātmanā jitaḥ
anātmanas tu śatrutve vartetātmaiva śatruvat (6.6)

Ᾱtmaiva hyātmano bandhur ātmaiva ripur ātmanaḥ: We must not criticise our own selves or deprecate our own selves or feel diffident about our own selves when we are on the spiritual path, because it is said elsewhere that even a little practice that we do is a great credit in our name and there is no loss of effort. No effort in the direction of spiritual practice is going to be a loss. It is always going to be a gain, even if it is a very insignificant gain. Nehābhikramanāśo’sti pratyavāyo na vidyate (2.40). It is mentioned in an earlier chapter that no effort in the direction of spiritual realisation can be a waste. Even a penny that is credited in our bank is a credit, though it is only one penny. So no one should imagine that there is some serious defect in one’s own self when one has decided to tread the spiritual path. Once one has taken the step, one should not turn back due to diffidence. It is said that he who has put his hand on the plough cannot look back. Once he has started doing the work, no diffidence is permitted. Hence, uddhared ātmanātmānaṁ: The self has to be raised with the Self’s power. Nātmānam avasādayet: Do not depreciate your effort. Ᾱtmaiva hyātmano bandhur ātmaiva ripur ātmanaḥ: We are our own friend, and we are our own enemy. All troubles come to us due to our own errors; also blessings come due to our proper adjustment of personality with reality.

Bandhur ātmātmanas tasya yenātmaivātmanā jitaḥ: When we have conquered our lower self with the power of the higher Self, we have become our own friend. When the lower self disobeys the regulations and rules of the higher Self, we become an enemy of our own self. This is because our real self is the higher Self, and the higher we go, the more real we become in our own personality. The lower we go, the less and less we are in our own reality. When comprehensive regulations of the higher Self restrain the instinctive activities of the lower self, we are supposed to be our own friend. The higher Self is our friend because we ourselves are the higher Self.

Anātmanas tu śatrutve vartetātmaiva śatruvat: God Himself may look like an enemy when we disobey His orders, which operate in the form of rita and satya.

Bandhur ātmātmanas tasya yenātmaivātmanā jitaḥ, anātmanas tu śatrutve vartetātmaiva śatruvat: The more we are attached to the objects of sense, the more are we inimical to our own Self. The lesser our desires and greater the capacity of our consciousness to establish itself in itself, the more are we friendly with our own Self.

Actually, there is no separate God sitting somewhere in the cosmos. It is the largest dimension of our own Self that is called Brahman. The miniature of that Brahman is the Atman. That itself, expanding to the widest dimension, is Brahman. Hence, there is no God outside us. There is an immanence of that Universal Being in our own selves. Therefore, if our so-called self is inimical to the regulations of the highest realm, it is acting against the requirements of the highest Self, and there will be a reaction from the cosmic forces in the form of karma phala, or nemesis. This is the way in which God works if we disobey God’s law. Thus, obedience to the law that is operating in the cosmos is the way in which we can accommodate the highest reality into our own self—which is to be a friend of the highest Self, and which is equal to being a friend of one’s own self also. To be a friend of the highest Self is equal to being a friend of one’s own self, because we are the highest Self. Otherwise, the lower self will take an upper hand, the instincts will take revenge, and the sense organs will set up a revolt; and in that case, we will become a friend of the lower self, which is the enemy of the higher Self—which is another way of saying that we are an enemy of our own Self.

This is a psychological foundation which is laid in the first few verses of the Sixth Chapter, from the first sloka onwards, describing the actual practice of yoga. The Sixth Chapter concerns itself with the actual practice of yoga. Apart from a few minor details, it is similar to the yoga of Patanjali in many ways. Actually, some commentators, such as Madhusudhana Saraswati, have appended many sutras from Patanjali to supplement their explanations of the Sixth Chapter of the Bhagavadgita. There are abundant quotes from Patanjali in Madhusudhana Saraswati’s commentary on the Gita’s Sixth Chapter.

Yogī yuñjīta satatam ātmānaṁ rahasi sthitaḥ, ekākī yatacittātmā nirāśīr aparigrahaḥ (6.10): A yogi is a person who is attempting to practice yoga, and a yogi is one who is established in yoga. Whether we are in the second standard in primary school or we are studying in college at the postgraduate level, we are undergoing education. So ‘yoga’ is a common word that applies to the preliminary stages of attempt, as well as to the final establishment. Therefore, a yogi who is a student of spiritual practice in any level—the first, the second or the third, or whatever level it is—such a person should undergo certain disciplines that are described in this chapter in order to carry on meditation.

Yogī yuñjīta satatam ātmānaṁ rahasi sthitaḥ: Aloneness being our friend—living in a secluded place and not in a place of disturbance or noise—we try to collect ourselves into ourselves. We collect our energies, muster the forces of the mind and the senses, and try to be more and more in ourselves instead of being more and more in the objects of sense. This is the meaning of this half-verse: yogī yuñjīta satatam ātmānaṁ rahasi sthitaḥ. We have to unite our self with our own Self. The uniting of one’s self with one’s own Self is a process of psychological integration, whose methods have been described in the previous five chapters.

Ekākī: We should sit alone in a secluded place for meditation, unbefriended, unknown. Yatacittātmā: Bringing about a union of the mind and the intellect and the Self, so that there is no disparity among the thoughts of the mind or the understandings of the intellect or the yearnings of the soul. They must be in a state of balance. Such a state of attaining balance is yatacittātmā. Ekākī: Being alone to oneself and united in mind, intellect and spirit.

Nirāśīr aparigrahaḥ: Expecting nothing from the world outside, having no desires for anything in the world is nirāśīḥ; and aparigrahaḥ means expecting no gifts from anybody. When we have abandoned things, we may expect gifts to come from different sources—and actually gifts will come, as that is the law of action and reaction. The more we renounce things, the more are things abundantly poured on us. The more we try to renounce the world, the more it will try to pursue us and become our friend and be with us. Therefore it is said that when we are desireless, we should not expect any recompense or remuneration for our desirelessness. Expecting to obtain something as a result of being desireless is another kind of desire and, therefore, the desire to receive something because of our desirelessness has also to be given up. That is aparigrahaḥ—nirāśīr aparigrahaḥ. Yogī yuñjīta satatam ātmānaṁ rahasi sthitaḥ, ekākī yatacittātmā nirāśīr aparigrahaḥ.

Śucau deśe pratiṣṭhāpya sthiram āsanam ātmanaḥ, nātyucchritaṁ nātinīcaṁ cailājinakuśottaram (6.11). We have to sit on a seat which is a non-conductor of electricity. That is why it is said a grass mat may be spread on the ground. A grass mat is a non-conductor of electricity. Some people place a deerskin or some such thing over the grass mat, and then spread a cloth to sit on. The seat should not be directly on the ground, nor should it be too high. Nātyucchritaṁ nātinīcaṁ: Neither too high nor too low. This is because if the seat is too low, insects may crawl on us and disturb our session; and if it is too high, there is a possibility of our falling down while in the state of concentration. The seat should be of moderate height. A very practical suggestion is given here that we should sit in one particular posture. The yoga meditation posture is the same posture in which most of us are sitting now (crosslegged on the floor with spine held upright), or it can be any other meditation pose such as padmasana, siddhasana, etc. Whatever is convenient to us and does not cause us discomfort is the posture that we may assume for meditation. In Patanjali’s Sutras, a very non-committal description is given of the asana: sthira sukham āsanam (Y.S. 2.46). Patanjali does not say that we should be seated in padmasana, sthira, etc. Nothing is mentioned; no nomenclature is used. We can assume any pose which will enable us to be fixed and not cause pain in the knees or the joints. The pose should be fixed, and it should also be comfortable: sthira sukham āsanam. Whatever be the pose that we assume, it should be fixed and comfortable. Śucau deśe: In a pure spot be seated. Nātyucchritaṁ nātinīcaṁ cailājinakuśottaram: The seat should not be too high or too low.

Tatraikāgraṁ manaḥ kṛtvā yatacittendriyakriyaḥ, upaviśyāsane yuñjyād yogam ātmaviśuddhaye (6.12). Then, what should we be doing while seated there? We should try to bring the mind to a point of concentration. Yatacittendriyakriyaḥ: By restraining our mental function and restraining our sense functions by pratyahara, we should try to bring the mind to a point of concentration. Tatraikāgraṁ manaḥ kṛtvā yatacittendriyakriyaḥ, upaviśyāsane yuñjyād yogam ātmaviśuddhaye: For the purification of the self, for the raising of the lower self to the higher Self, one should resort to the practice of yoga which is meditation.

Samaṁ kāyaśirogrīvaṁ (6.13): We must be seated erect with the head, neck and the spine in a straight line so that the prana may move harmoniously through the channels of the body. If we sit in a distorted position, it will be difficult for the prana to move in a harmonious manner. Therefore, we remain in a stabilised pose in order to help the prana move in a stabilised fashion. We should be fixed; there should be no shaking of the personality.

Dhārayannacalaṁ sthiraḥ: With eyes neither open nor closed, we should gaze as if we are looking at the tip of the nose. It does not actually mean that we should concentrate on the tip of the nose. This is only a metaphor for not opening the eyes entirely because objects outside—colours and forms—may disturb our mind. So we should not keep our eyes open, nor should we close them completely, as that may lead to sleep.

Saṁprekṣya nāsikāgraṁ svaṁ diśaś cānavalokayan: Therefore, the eyelids are half-closed, as if we are looking at the nose.

Diśaś cānavalokayan: We should not look here and there, in different directions.

Praśāntātmā vigatabhīr brahmacārivrate sthitaḥ, manaḥ saṁyamya maccitto yukta āsīta matparaḥ (6.14). Praśāntātmā means subdued in one’s own self, calm and quiet, and never susceptible to any kind of disturbance from outside events or sources. Praśāntātmā also means calm, quiet and subdued because of desirelessness in the mind. We are not agitated either by the operations of the mind inside or by the activities of people externally.

Vigatabhīḥ: Fearless are we. Fearlessness comes only when we are sure that we have a very secure position individually. If we are insecure, fear will haunt us from all directions. Yoga is the attempt at assuming a tremendous security of oneself in the world of cosmic rulers. In the Yoga Vasishtha, it is clearly mentioned that an ardent student of yoga who is sincerely attempting to achieve perfection will be guarded by the rulers of the cosmos. The divinities that superintend over the powers of nature will open their eyes and befriend us and, therefore, we need not be in a state of agony or insecurity. The more are we dependent on people outside, the more are we insecure. The more we are dependent on the inner forces that are commensurate with the cosmic forces, the more are we fearless. But many a time doubts arise in the mind, and these doubts cause a diminution of the level in the state of meditation. Then we may suddenly come down from the level in which we are protected by the cosmic forces, and we may feel disturbed, as if some tremendous trouble is going to take place.

These fears do not come in an ordinary manner. They come in a tremendously ferocious form, and are highly disturbing. It is impossible to describe what kind of fears can come upon us. The terror and the temptations that Buddha had to face during his meditations are described in a beautiful poetic style in the sixth chapter of Edwin Arnold’s Light of Asia. Edwin Arnold was a very good writer who also wrote Light of the World, which is about the life of Christ, and Song Celestial, which is the Bhagavadgita rendered in English poetry.

The sixth chapter of Light of Asia is a description of the fear, agony, temptation and torment that Buddha had to undergo before he attained illumination. These temptations and troubles—the devils attacking us from all sides—may be a phenomenon that everybody has to face one day or the other, because what one person has experienced may be the experience of everyone else also. Because there is only one road to God, whatever we see on the way has been seen by others, and future meditators will also see the same thing. Vigatabhīḥ: Therefore, we must be fearless by establishing ourselves in ourselves and having confidence in ourselves.

Praśāntātmā vigatabhīr brahmacārivrate sthitaḥ: Completely restraining the sense organs from disturbing the energy of the body and the mind is called Brahmacharya. Brahmacharya does not mean a physical dissociation from contact with things. Viṣayā vinivartante nirāhārasya dehinaḥ, rasavarjaṁ raso’pyasya paraṁ dṛṣṭvā nivartate (2.59): Physical dissociation is not Brahmacharya, because the mind will be brooding. What our body is doing is not actually our action. What the mind is doing is our action. Therefore, there should be a withdrawal of the desire to see through the eyes, and a withdrawal of the energy that makes the ears hear. There should also be a withdrawal of all the powers of the ten sense organs—the five organs of perception and the five organs of action. All these must be restrained. There must be no inclination to move at all. We are seated in stability. That condition is the filling of our entire personality with the total energy that we consist of, and no energy should leak out through any organ of sense. Then we become indomitably strong, physically as well as mentally, and we develop a sharp memory that will not forget things.

Praśāntātmā vigatabhīr brahmacārivrate sthitaḥ, manaḥ saṁyamya maccitto yukta āsīta matparaḥ. This is the first time that the Lord uses the words “depend on Me”. Later on it will be told in more elaborate form. In the Bhagavadgita up to this time, the Lord has not said, “You should depend on Me.” He has only said, “Do this work,” “Do that work,” “You should not be reactive,” “You should conduct yourself in this fashion,” “This is the discipline that you have to practise,” and so on, but he did not bring God into the picture. In a way, he brings God here by saying maccitto yukta āsīta matparaḥ: “Depending on Me entirely, be united with your own Self.”

Manaḥ saṁyamya: With great effort, restrain the mind. The mind will not yield so easily. It will wander here and there. Wherever it goes, from there we bring it back, as we control a horse with the reins. The sense organs are like horses, and they have to be restrained by the power of the higher reason. Maccitta: entirely depending on God’s grace, and on nothing else. Manaḥ saṁyamya maccitto yukta āsīta matparaḥ: United with our own Self, integrated in our psyche, fearless in our behaviour and vision of life, depending entirely on the grace of God for His mercy and His coming to us quickly, thus we should be seated for this highest form of concentration and meditation.

Yuñjann evaṁ sadātmānaṁ yogī niyatamānasaḥ, śāntiṁ nirvāṇaparamāṁ matsaṁsthām adhigacchati(6.15). We should do this practice continuously, every day. It may be for a few minutes in the beginning, and later on for half an hour, one hour, etc.; nevertheless, this practice should be carried on daily, continuously, and without remission.

Śāntiṁ nirvāṇaparamāṁ: One who has restrained oneself perfectly attains a peace which is a reflection of Ultimate Bliss. Nirvana itself is reflected in our personality, and heaven throbs in our mind, as it were. We will automatically feel such bliss inside, and will not know from where that happiness comes.

Matsaṁsthām adhigacchati: Actually, this bliss comes from God. The meaning is that this internal joy or satisfaction which we feel in this form of contemplation or meditation is a reflection of God Himself in our personality.

Certain formulas are now mentioned so that we may not go to excesses in the practice of yoga. Yoga is a practice of a kind of harmony in every kind of behaviour. Nātyaśnatas tu yogo’sti (6.16): We should not eat too much. A glutton cannot practise yoga. This is because as gluttons we make the body so heavy and tamasic that sattvic qualities cannot manifest in us and, therefore, we cannot practise yoga. Na caikāntam anaśnataḥ: That person who is abstemious to an extreme extent and is starving also cannot practise yoga. This is because if we go to the other extreme, which is starvation, we cannot sit or stand or breathe. We cannot even think. At that time, the mind will not concentrate. Nātyaśnatas tu yogosti na caikāntam anaśnataḥ: Neither a glutton nor an abstemious person going to the extreme is considered fit for meditation.

Na cātisvapnaśīlasya jāgrato naiva cārjuna: A person who sleeps too much is so tamasic that he is not fit for meditation. But a person who never sleeps at all is also not fit for meditation because his mind is disturbed by certain psychological or biological factors, which is why there is sleeplessness to such an extent. It is a kind of illness. Therefore, a person who is always awake, who never rests, as well as a person who always sleeps, cannot practise yoga.

Then who is fit to practise yoga? Yuktāhāravihārasya yuktaceṣṭasya karmasu, yuktasvapnāvabodhasya yogo bhavati duḥkhahā (6.17): Yoga, which is the destroyer of all sorrow, will come to us; yoga, which is the destroyer of all pain and suffering, will come to us. When will it come? It will come when our diet is harmonious, when our behaviour is harmonious, when our activities are harmonious and not disturbing to anybody. One who is harmonious in his waking and his sleeping, such a person is fit for yoga because he is himself in a state of harmony

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Discourse 16: The Sixth Chapter Continues – Meditation on the Ishta Devata

Yadā viniyataṁ cittam: When the mind is settled in its own Self through being perfectly restrained, it is tantamount to its settling itself in the Atman. Yadā viniyataṁ cittam ātmany- evāvatiṣṭhate, niḥspṛhaḥ sarvakāmebhyo yukta ity ucyate tadā (6.18): Free from the necessity to allow the mind to work in terms of the sense organs, feeling happy within on account of the proximity of the mind to the Self, one attains to a unity with one’s own Self, which is equal to the unity with the Self of all things.

The meditational process can be carried on in three ways: internally, externally, and universally. The Atman is generally considered to be the Self of an individual. It is the deepest root of any particular person, and the idea that the person is located in some place also gives rise to the idea that the Atman is in one place. People refer to themselves as ‘myself’, ‘my Atman within’. They touch their heart when referring to the Atman and the Self, indicating that the Self is their deepest subjectivity. The Atman, or Self, is a pure subject. The purity of the Self arises on account of it not being contaminated by the desire for objects. The self that desires an object is an impure self—the lower self, the instinctive self, the sensory self. The Self that is not contaminated by any longing for outside things is the purified Self.

This Self, which is generally considered to be dominating the personality of an individual, is also the Self that dominates the personality of any individual anywhere. When it is agreed that my Atman, or Self, is within me, it is also agreed that it is within everyone. The within-ness of the Atman in the case of a particular individual does not preclude the very same Self also being within other persons, other individuals, other beings. Now, if it is within some particular individual and it is within all individuals, it would be equal to saying that it encompasses all things, that it is everywhere. Because of the fact of its being within all things, it has to be understood as being present everywhere, inasmuch as individuals are everywhere. Even in the littlest forms of individuality, the Selfhood can be recognised.

When we investigate into the consequences that follow from agreeing that the Self which is within us is also within all people, the internality of the Self as the Atman becomes the universality of the very same thing as Brahman. Therefore, the Atman is Brahman. The Self within is the Self that is everywhere. The internality of the Self automatically becomes a universalised form of internality, as the Self is not within anything, because to be within only something would be equal to not being within something else. When we accede that the Self is within all things, the within-ness exceeds the limit of its little location of individuality and becomes an all-pervading presence. For example, the space in thousands of pots may look like the individualised contents in those pots. We may say that the space in the pot is the Self, or the Atman, of the pot. But it is present in all the pots. When the dividing factor, which is the bodily egoism, is dispensed with—when the pots are broken—we will find that the very same space which was apparently within the pots is everywhere. It was always everywhere. It appeared to be within only on account of our interpreting it as the presiding principle over individual bodies. This Atman which is within me is also the Atman that is within everyone. Therefore, it is a universal internalising. Universal does not mean an expanse in space and time, because space and time are objects of consciousness. We are aware of there being such a thing as space, and we are aware of there being such a thing as time. Inasmuch as space and time, or even space-time blended together, are objects of consciousness, they cannot be regarded as universal. The consciousness itself is universal. Space and time are not universal, because they are limited objects. Thus, the universality of consciousness is different from the sensorily cognised universality of space, because space can be cognised by the mind and perceived by the eye. The Atman cannot be cognised or perceived, because it is the cogniser and the perceiver. “Who can see the seer? Who can know the knower?” says Yajnavalkya, the great sage in the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad. Vijñātāram are kena vijānīyād (B.U. 2.4.14): He is the knower of all things. Who can know him?

Therefore, it is not a universalisation like an objectivity of space; it is a conscious universality. And inasmuch as consciousness cannot be an object, it is pure subjectivity. It becomes necessary for us to stretch our imagination to some extent in order to accommodate these two thoughts into a single point of concentration. Consciousness—which is the pure subjectivity without any kind of objectivity in it, and yet it is everywhere—is difficult to meditate on. Therefore, people generally do not go to such advanced practices in meditation unless they themselves are advanced and have a purified mind and were born with good samskaras. The initial stages of meditation are not conducted along these lines, which stretch the brain to the breaking point by making it imagine something which cannot be easily imagined.

The earlier stages of meditation are objectively conducted as concentrations on what are called the ishta devatas. An ishta devata is our own God, whom we worship and adore. Now the idea of God being something whom we can worship and adore brings into our minds the idea of His location. Though theoretically it is conceded that God is everywhere, the mind cannot conceive this everywhereness. Even when we agree that God is everywhere, the idea of God being everywhere will be a kind of externalisation of form. Even if we think of God as the universal Virat Himself, when we think of the Virat, He will appear to be an object which we are cognising. The necessity to visualise God as an object, or an ishta devata, arises on account of the difficulty felt by the mind in transcending space and time.

Therefore, this attempt at going beyond space and time should not be worked on or attempted in the earlier stages, because it will be a great strain to the mind. We have an ishta devata. It may be our dear God. It may be Rama or Krishna or Devi or Surya or Jesus Christ or Mohammed, or any incarnation. Whatever be the dearest and the nearest and the best that we can think of, that is our object of meditation.

It is many a time indicated that we can concentrate on anything; we can concentrate on even a pencil or a candle flame or a rose flower. Yes, it is possible for us to concentrate on anything, but this effort at concentrating on such objects as a pencil, etc., will not succeed finally because the emotions will have their say. The emotions will cry out and proclaim that the pencil is not going to bring anything. We cannot love a pencil; we cannot hug it; we cannot consider it as a dear object. At least here, in the case of meditation, the ishta is the dearest and the best that we can think of; and inasmuch as we have conceded that it is the best, there cannot be anything better than that anywhere in the world.

Hence, in meditation the choice of the ishta devata is very important, and it is not all right if we just choose anything for the purpose of practice. We should be clear that we have chosen the best, and there cannot be anything better than that. There cannot be anything better than the best. That is to say, when we have chosen the object as something capable of fulfilling all our desires because it is the dearest and the nearest to us, then the mind in concentration on that ishta devata will not move out in any other direction. The distractions and the oscillations of the mind in meditation—its moving away from the object of concentration to some other thing—are due to a feeling that this ishta devata is not all-in-all, that there are also other things in the world which are dear and which are capable of satisfying the mind. It feels that all satisfaction—the highest satisfaction, and every kind of satisfaction—cannot be expected from this particular object. This is due to a defect in the choice of the ishta devata. If we have not chosen the ishta devata properly, the mind says that there are other things which are also equally good, and so it runs here and there during concentration.

It is not possible to conceive any object in the world which is so dear, because every object in the world has a defect of its own, and we cannot consider anyone or anything as the dearest. Not even jewels, not even diamonds, not even the most glorious valuable objects can be considered as the dearest, because they lose their value under different conditions. The ishta devata becomes, for our purposes, a conceptual ideal that we have placed before us, on which we foist all the greatest qualities of God. We consider the ishta devata as an all-pervading essence concretised in one form, like the sun manifesting one ray. But, one ray is not all rays, and one form is not all forms. Nevertheless, through this one form we can reach all forms because the quality of the ishta devata is something like the quality of the rays of the sun, and one ray is equal to any other ray in its quality.

We must foist all the characteristics of the best of things on our object of meditation. We must think that it is alive, and not dead. If we think that our god is dead, and it is not speaking, that it is only an image, then we will not have any affection for that object. If possible, we should choose an object that is mentally construed as a symbol of all the perfection that we can think of. We should feel that it can connect us to the omniscient and omnipotent Godhead, and it can melt into a universal existence if necessary. We should feel that the ishta devata is an ambassador of God Almighty, and that it has all the powers of the government which has brought it and employed it here, and we can speak to it.

It is true that our ishta devata can speak to us. The lives of saints like Purandaradas, Tukaram, Ekanath, Namdev and such people have illustrated this before us—as Vitthala danced with the devotees. Though for us it is only a stone image, it broke into action. The other day I mentioned to you how the image of Kali broke into action and became alive, as it were, to protect Jada Bharata when dacoits wanted to finish him off. Did not Narasimha come from a brick pillar? Therefore, we should not say that there are only inanimate objects in this world. The idea that our object is an image or a picture or that it is not going to bring us that which we expected should be removed from the mind. The conceptualisation of the ishta devata should be as a specimen of God Almighty Himself.

In the beginning, the ishta devata will look like somebody standing before us. Lord Krishna, Rama or Devi is standing before us. All right, let them be before us. It looks as if they are only in one place. In the earliest stages of meditation, we can feel that God is in front of us—Lord Krishna, Devi, Durga, Surya or whoever it is. Later on, in the advanced stage of meditation, we should be able to recognise that this particular god is present everywhere, as if the ishta devata is filling all space. It is just as when we look at one tree in the forest we will see only that tree and nothing else, but when we notice that this tree is one tree in the forest, we will find that there are only trees everywhere. Hence, the next stage of meditation may be an attempt on the part of our mind to feel the presence of the ishta devata as filling all space so that, as some devotees sing in their poetry, jidhar dekhta hun, udhar tu hi tu: “Wherever I look, I see only you, God.” It appears that Ravana saw Rama everywhere at the last moment; and at one moment in the war, Duryodhana saw Sri Krishna everywhere. Wherever he looked, he saw only Krishna. This kind of expansion of the location of our ishta devatais an advanced stage of meditation, higher than the stage where we saw our god only standing or seated before us. Then, the original location where we thought the ishta devata was gets increased on account of our seeing it everywhere.

There is an even higher stage, where it is not enough if we feel that Lord Krishna is everywhere like there being many trees in a forest. There is only the ishta devata everywhere, and there is nothing else. It is not many Krishnas or many Devis or many Narayanas that we are seeing. It is only one Narayana, just as when we do not see many waves but see only one ocean. The so-called individual conceptual forms of the ishta melt into the larger liquid of the sea in which they exist, which is the substance of these manifested forms. This stage which I am describing is something like savikalpa samadhi, where we see the light everywhere—but we see the light. This is the penultimate stage of an experience that has to transcend itself further on, because we too should melt into the light. When we perceive the light as being everywhere, it is a great thing indeed. It is a great experience. It is the highest form of experience that we can imagine; but we still maintain an individuality of ourselves as a worshipper, an adorer, an onlooker, etc. When we enter into it, that stage becomes nirvikalpa samadhi, the highest union that one attains in meditation.

So from the internality of the Atman, we conceived the universality of the very same Atman as being present in all individuals; and also we felt the necessity to worship an ishta devata through mantra japa, the glorification that we are singing by these mantras, and nama japa. We sing like Hanuman, in great ecstasy. This is a kind of invocation of God. Immense longing for God, which will manifest in the loud chanting of a mantra or in musical songs that we sing, or even dancing in the glorification of God, is supposed to be one of the ecstatic conditions that the devotee reaches in the heights of devotion and communion with his ishta devata.

Thus, internal meditation in the light of the Atman being within us may give way to a larger conceptualisation of the Atman being everywhere. This is the philosophical, Vedantic method of meditation. In the devotional, bhakti method, the ishta devata concept is prescribed; and there also, the ishta devata is a transcendent reality, and not merely an externally existing object. The god who is the ishta devata is not an outside something; it is that which is pervading all things, including ourselves. Therefore, it is able to give us light; and it can also receive light and speak to us. There is nothing in the world which cannot speak. Even a stone, even a leaf in the tree, has a Selfhood of itself; and when our self pervades all things, things assume their Selfhood in themselves, and they react by way of a conscious response. Even the trees responded to the call of Vyasa when he summoned Suka, his son. “Oh my son, where are you?” “I am here, my dear father,” was the response that came from every leaf of every tree. That means Suka was not in one particular place. Therefore, the ishta devata is our God, and becomes the universally inclusive reality which finally inundates us also. Yadā viniyataṁ cittam ātmanyevāvatiṣṭhate, niḥspṛhaḥ sarvakāmebhyo yukta ity ucyate tadā (6.18).

Yathā dīpo nivātastho neṅgate sopamā smṛtā, yogino yatacittasya yuñjato yogam ātmanaḥ (6.19): As a flame, say a candle flame, flickers not when it is burning in a windless place, so will be the mind concentrating, as it were, at the height of absorption in the Atman. Yathā dīpo nivātasthaḥ: That which is located in a windless place. Neṅgate: Does not flicker. Sopamā smṛtā: That is the illustration that is used here. Yuñjato yogam ātmanaḥ: The Atman reflects itself as an immense steadiness in the mind that is concentrating. The fickleness of the mind, which is otherwise a form of distraction, ceases on account of the entire Atman reflecting itself in this condition of intense concentration.

yatroparamate cittaṁ niruddhaṁ yogasevayā
yatra caivātmanātmānaṁ paśyannātmani tuṣyati (6.20)
sukham ātyantikaṁ yat tad buddhigrāhyam atīndriyam
vetti yatra na caivāyaṁ sthitaś calati tattvataḥ (6.21)
yaṁ labdhvā cāparaṁ lābhaṁ manyate nādhikaṁ tataḥ
yasmin sthito na duḥkhena guruṇāpi vicālyate (6.22)

These are some illustrations of the condition of intense concentration of the mind. It flickers not. The mind is not any more distracted, because the steadiness of the Atman is reflected here in this highly concentrated mind. Joy manifests itself from within. The mind ceases.

Uparamate cittaṁ: It melts into the Self, as it were. Niruddhaṁ yogasevayā: Because of the restraint continually exercised on the mind, it melts into the Atman itself. Yatra caivātmanātmānaṁ paśyannātmani tuṣyati: Where beholding the Self in the self, one delights within oneself. There is no delight that is equal to this delight.

Sukham ātyantikaṁ yat tad: This happiness is absolute happiness. It is not a relative happiness that we gain by the contact of the mind with the objects of desire, because when the object of desire vanishes there is no happiness and, therefore, it is not actual happiness. It is a relatively tantalising form of joy.

Buddhigrāhyam: This happiness can be experienced only by the higher purified reason, and not by the sense organs. The higher purified reason can reflect the highest reality within itself in the same way as it can infer the existence of God Almighty, though usually such a perception is not possible through the sense organs.

We will not be able to arrive at God by an inductive logic of collecting particulars to arrive at generals. No amount of particulars that we collect in this world will make God. Therefore, inductive logic does not help us here. The ancient masters took resort to an intuitive perception by which they started with the Universal first, and not with the particular first. Thus, they deduced everything from the Ultimate Reality. That is, we may say they followed a kind of deductive logic, and not the inductive logic of Francis Bacon, etc. The indubitability of the existence of the Universal Reality is established first. That is, the Universal is taken for granted in the beginning itself by logic, which we find explained in great detail in commentaries on the Brahma Sutras written by Sankaracharya, etc. The existence of the Universal Reality is established by pure logic, and once this is established as the consequence of the work of the higher reason, everything follows. All creation can be explained in terms of this Universal Reality. It is infinite happiness. All other happiness in this world is relative.

Sukham ātyantikaṁ yat tad buddhigrāhyam atīndriyam, vetti yatra na caivāyaṁ sthitaś calati tattvataḥ: In that state, we will never be shaken even by the winds of the world. Yasmin sthito na duḥkhena guruṇāpi vicālyate: Even the heaviest sorrow cannot shake us from that happiness. Even if the earth cracks and the sun falls on our head, even if such a thing can be imagined, we will not be shaken at that time, because of our entry into the very substance of all things.

Taṁ vidyāddh duḥkhasaṁyogaviyogaṁ yogasaṁjñitam, sa niścayena yoktavyo yogonirviṇṇacetasā (6.23). Anirviṇṇacetas means by a non-despondent mind, by a courageous mind, by a heroic attitude of the spiritual seeker. With this bold attitude of spiritual aspiration, one should seek to attain this union of the self with the Self. Taṁ vidyāddh duḥkhasaṁyogaviyogaṁ: At one stroke, it cuts us off from all sources of pain, and we will no longer know what pain is. Taṁ vidyāddh duḥkhasaṁyogaviyogaṁ yogasaṁjñitam, sa niścayena yoktavyaḥ: That is called yoga which is the separation of consciousness from all sources of pain. We must definitely attain it, and unite ourselves with it—yogonirviṇṇacetasā—by not being despondent, and by total union with the Self, which is the ultimate yoga.

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Discourse 17: The Sixth Chapter Concludes – God's Great Promise to Us

Śanaiḥ śanair uparamed buddhyā dhṛtigṛhītayā, ātmasaṁsthaṁ manaḥ kṛtvā na kiṁcid api cintayet (6.25). Here we are in the meditational technique of the Sixth Chapter of the Bhagavadgita. Gradually, slowly, step by step, we have to subdue the mind. We should not try to control the mind hurriedly, quickly, by force of will.

There is a story to illustrate the way in which the mind can be controlled. The mind is like a ferocious bull that will not allow us to go near it. A wild bull is so ferocious that we dare not go near it. How will we be able to control that wild bull and ride on it? Our first step is to put a fence around it. Now we have restrained its movement to some extent. We can restrain the mind in a similar manner by putting a fence around it, allowing it to go so far and no further. Even if we have desires, they should be permissible, justifiable desires, conducive and healthy. Unjustifiable and harmful desires should not be entertained. Therefore, the first step is to permit the mind to have some desires, but not allow it to go beyond a limit—like the fence that we put around the wild bull.

The next step is to bring some green grass to the bull, stretch our hand inside the fence, and call out to it. Because of the green grass, it will come near us. We have no fear of the bull because we are on the other side of the fence. It can look at us threateningly, but it cannot harm us. Because we are giving it green grass, it is a little subdued and its mind is concentrated on the grass. If we bring the bull green grass every day, it gets accustomed to our face, and we can touch it on the head with the fence still between us. If we go on doing this for a long time, we can even hold the bull’s horn, and it will not do us any harm. It will not make noise and threaten to gore us. Then we can gradually open the gate a little and thrust the green grass inside. It will look at us in a friendly manner because it is habituated to seeing our face. After some time we can go near it, and then touch it. A day will come when we are able to ride on it.

This is an illustration of how the mind is threatening us, trying to control us like a wild bull, and how it pulls our consciousness in any direction whatsoever just as a wild bull may run amok, hither and thither; but gradually, we can bring the mind under control by circumscribing its activity, putting a fence around it, allowing it to move only within a certain area. Suppose we are in an ashram or a monastery; we can do whatever is permissible. We can eat, we can play, we can talk, we can go for a walk, we can have a cup of tea. All these are permissible. But drinking, gambling, a non-vegetarian diet, and smoking are not allowed in these institutions and, therefore, we are automatically weaned away from them.

Circumscribing the number of desires, and making them operate within a certain limit, is the first step. Then we reduce the desires gradually by deciding which are unavoidable and which are avoidable. There are unavoidable desires and avoidable desires. For instance, we require one meal, and we have to have one meal or even two meals if it is necessary. But we go on snacking on varieties of things between meals. These snacks are not necessary, and can be avoided. Therefore, we may restrain our eating to the minimum number of items that we require.

Then we can prescribe to ourselves a discipline, as certain Swamis in Haridwar have done. They take kshetra sannyas and do not go out of Haridwar. This is also a limit that we put on the mind. Otherwise, the mind says that we can go anywhere we like—to Mussoorie or to San Francisco. We take a decision that we shall not go beyond Rishikesh; this is kshetra sannyas. That Swamiji who took kshetra sannyas then restrained himself still further by taking ashram sannyas—that is, he would not go out of the ashram. If we maintain such disciplines, the mind gradually attains tranquillity: śanaiḥ śanair uparamed. It may take many years for us to restrain the mind and make it come back to the point of concentration, which is the Self. Buddhyā dhṛtigṛhītayā: With a bold determination by our reason, with discrimination, with vichara and viveka shakti, the mind has to be brought under control very, very slowly. Abrupt actions are not permitted.

Ᾱtmasaṁsthaṁ manaḥ kṛtvā na kiṁcid api cintayet: Once the mind becomes settled in itself, we should not disturb it. There should no longer be any necessity to speak or to think or to do anything whatsoever because the settling of the mind in the Atman is the final goal of life, and once the mind tastes the nectarine bliss of the Atman’s contact, it will not want anything else. Yaṁ labdhvā cāparaṁ lābhaṁ manyate nādhikaṁ tataḥ (6.22): Having gained this, we do not consider any other gain in the world as equal to it. Yasmin sthito na duḥkhena guruṇāpi vicālyate: Established in this, the heaviest of sorrow cannot shake us. Let anything happen; nothing will shake us out of our balance because of our establishment in the Self.

Yet, the mind will move here and there. It goes here, it goes there. What do we do at that time? Yato yato niścarati manaś cañcalam asthiram, tatas tato niyamyaitad ātmanyeva vaśaṁ nayet (6.26): Whatever be the direction in which the mind is moving, from that direction it should be pulled back. When a horse is restive and kicks and moves backwards and forwards, the rider controls it with the reins. If the horse goes in one direction, the rider pulls it back from that direction. If it goes in another direction, he pulls it back from that direction. When the mind is pulled back from the particular direction that it has taken, it will move in another direction.

If there are ten holes in a pot which is filled with water, water will start leaking through one hole; and if we plug that hole, water will leak through another hole. Similarly, if we control the eyes, the ears will wreak havoc. If we control the eyes and the ears, the nose will say something. If the nose is also controlled, the tongue will go out of control. One sense or the other will be there to trouble us. Therefore, whichever be the direction of the action of the mind, from that direction we should pull it back with the reins of self-control because the mind is very fickle and it will never rest in any particular given point. Hence, the habit of the yogi, the student of yoga, should be to bring the mind back to the point of concentration by intense exercise of will and reason, allowing it to rest in itself for some time. And if the mind goes in another direction, we should gradually bring it from there also, until it is habituated to being controlled and it knows that it will be pulled back from wherever it goes. Then the mind settles, one day or the other. Yato yato niścarati manaś cañcalam asthiram, tatas tato niyamyaitad ātmanyeva vaśaṁ nayet: From whichever direction the mind goes, bring it back to the Self. We should be steadied in our nature.

Praśāntamanasaṁ hyenaṁ yoginaṁ sukham uttamam, upaiti śāntarajasaṁ brahmabhūtam akalmaṣam(6.27): Such a person who has restrained his mind, and who is established in the Self, has made the mind subdued and calm. Praśāntamanasaṁ: A great bliss manifests itself from within. Śāntarajasaṁ: One becomes free from all rajas, free from the distractions of the senses and the mind. Akalmaṣam: The mind becomes spotless and pure. Brahmabhūtam: One veritably expands one’s dimension to the state of the Absolute. When we sink below a particular wave in the ocean, we enter into the very ocean itself. Though it may be only one wave among the many waves into which we have sunk, sinking into the root of the wave takes us to the very foundation of all waves. That is to say, sinking into our own Self is like sinking into a wave in the sea of consciousness so that, in that sinking in an individual fashion, so-called, we enter into the Self of all beings. We become sarvabhūtātmabhūtātmā (5.6), the veritable Self of all beings.

Yuñjann evaṁ sadātmānaṁ yogī vigatakalmaṣaḥ (6.28): The yogi, one who is an ardent student of yoga, daily practising this meditation continuously and without remission, gets freed from all the dirt and evil of rajas and tamas. Sukhena brahmasaṁsparśam atyantaṁ sukham aśnute: Easily he contacts Brahman because he has contacted the Atman. The contact of the Self in us is the same as the contact of the Brahman in the cosmos. The illustration to make it clear is that sinking into the root of the wave is equivalent to sinking into the ocean of all waves.

The four verses that follow may be recited like a mantra. The Lord places a great dictum before us in these four verses. These verses give the quintessence of divine mercy and divine involvement in human life. A kind of quintessential divine blessing is put into a little capsule, as it were, in these four verses; and we may recite these verses every day as a mantra to purify the mind and to enable us to concentrate on God.

sarvabhūtastham ātmānaṁ sarvabhūtāni cātmani
īkṣate yogayuktātmā sarvatra samadarśanaḥ (6.29)
yo māṁ paśyati sarvatra sarvaṁ ca mayi paśyati
tasyāhaṁ na praṇaśyāmi sa ca me na praṇaśyati (6.30)
sarvabhūtasthitaṁ yo māṁ bhajatyekatvam āsthitaḥ
sarvathā vartamānopi sa yogī mayi vartate (6.31)
ātmaupamyena sarvatra samaṁ paśyati yo’rjuna
sukhaṁ vā yadi vā duḥkhaṁ sa yogī paramo mataḥ (6.32)

Sarvabhūtastham ātmānaṁ means one who recognises the presence of the universal Self in all beings. Sarvabhūtāni cātmani means one who recognises the presence of all beings in the universal Self. Firstly we behold the universal Self in all beings, and conversely, we behold all beings in the universal Self. Īkṣate yogayuktātmā: One who is united in yoga beholds the realities of things in this manner, as the location of all beings in God and the location of God in all beings. Sarvatra samadarśanaḥ: Equanimously he sees the same substance in the variety that is this world.

Everything in the world is made up of five constituents: asti, bhati, priya, nama, rupa. Asti means existence; bhati means consciousness; priya means bliss, joy; nama means name; rupa means form. Every object in this world has a name and a form. It exists, it has a self-consciousness, and it enjoys itself. The nama and the rupa, or the name and form complex of a particular object, is a characteristic of its location in space and time. If the object is relieved of its involvement in the space-time complex, it will not appear as something having a name or a form. But nama-rupa prapancha, or the world of names and forms, is supposed to be relative and not absolute. Therefore, nama and rupa—name and form—cannot be attributed to God, because God is absolute. Name and form are relative to the circumstance of objects in the world in terms of space and time. But asti-bhati-priya—Existence-Consciousness-Bliss, known also as sat-chit-ananda—are the essences which constitute the basis of all things, and are permanent.

An eternity and a temporality characterise all things in the world. The eternity in things is in the form of Existence-Consciousness-Bliss, sat-chit-ananda. The temporality or perishability of objects is in their name and form. Name and form are rejected by the yogi, and he sees the essence. As I mentioned previously, he sees the gold in all ornaments. Whatever be the shape of the ornament, he sees one substance there, which is the shining gold.

Sarvabhūtastham ātmānaṁ sarvabhūtāni cātmani, īkṣate yogayuktātmā sarvatra samadarśanaḥ. Prior to this, the Lord had said yo māṁ paśyati sarvatra: “He who beholds Me everywhere”; sarvaṁ ca mayi paśyati: “and beholds all things in Myself.” Therefore, “He who beholds Me in all things sees My presence in everything, and also sees all things located in Me.” To repeat, yo māṁ paśyati sarvatra sarvaṁ ca mayi paśyati and then tasyāhaṁ na praṇaśyāmi: “I shall not lose him, and he shall not lose Me.” God will not desert us. We will never be disconnected from God. He shall be at our beck and call. He shall be our servant, as it were. All things shall be provided to us by this Great Being, provided that we are able to convince ourselves in the heart of our hearts that all things are located in the Absolute and the Absolute is located in all things. Yo māṁ paśyati sarvatra sarvaṁ ca mayi paśyati, tasyāhaṁ na praṇaśyāmi: We are dear to God and God is dear to us in such an intensive manner that we are perpetually inseparable. That state of life is the attainment of great godliness where yo māṁ paśyati sarvatra sarvaṁ ca mayi paśyati, tasyāhaṁ na praṇaśyāmi.

Sarvabhūtasthitaṁ yo māṁ bhajatyekatvam āsthitaḥ: “One who adores Me as residing in all things, as the Atman, or the Self, or the essence of all things; one who worships Me in this way—locating Me everywhere, worshipping Me in all things, beholding Me in every little form and name—whoever does this is able to achieve this great unity with Me.” Ekatvam āsthitaḥ means he who has attained to a unity of perception in the midst of the diversity of things. Whatever be the mode of that person’s life, that person is one with God. God has been very kind in giving a blank cheque to us: “Behave in any way you like, but be rooted in Me.” These days people sometimes say, “Love, and then do what you like.” In a similar way, God says, “Love Me, and then do what you like.” Whatever be the mode of one’s living, whether one is poor or rich, tall or short, whatever be the circumstance of one’s life and the occupation that one is practising, it matters not. Sarvathā vartamānopi sa yogī mayi vartate: Such a person, irrespective of his occupations, location and circumstances, is rooted in God because of the great concentration that he has practised on the deepest Self in him as the Self of all beings.

Ᾱtmaupamyena sarvatra samaṁ paśyati yo’rjuna, sukhaṁ vā yadi vā duḥkhaṁ sa yogī paramo mataḥ: “Hey Arjuna! He who beholds all things as he beholds himself…” This is a very difficult thing, to look at all things as we look at ourselves. Things outside look ugly, but we do not look ugly to ourselves. We have a contour of pleasantness and beauty, and other things may look otherwise in comparison to us. The difficulty in practising this doctrine of seeing everything as one would look upon oneself arises on account of the egoism of the individual.

If we are hungry, others are also hungry. If we feel fear, others also feel fear. If we are deprived of our possessions, others can also be deprived of their possessions. We have desires, and others also have desires. We have problems, and others also have problems. Therefore, we must be in a position to sympathise with the circumstances of all people and things. Even an ant would not like to die. Even an insect would not like to be trampled on by an elephant. An insect loves itself as much as an elephant loves itself. It crawls, wriggles, runs or flies if somebody tries to catch it and kill it. Every living being has a love for itself, and the largeness or the smallness of the body is immaterial here. Though the body of an elephant is larger than the body of an ant, the selfhood of the ant is not in any way smaller than the selfhood of the elephant. The ant feels hunger as intensely as the elephant feels hunger. The physical dimension of the body is not in any way a deterrent to feeling pain and pleasure, whatever be the circumstance and the species into which one is born.

Ᾱtmaupamyena sarvatra samaṁ paśyati: We love all things as we love ourselves. Even the trees and the stones will respond to our call. There are no non-living or dead elements in this world. The various levels of creation such as matter, vegetable, plant, animal, human, etc., are only various stages of the expression of consciousness, but no level is totally without consciousness. It is present even in a stone. If that were not the case, there would be no possibility of evolution. Inasmuch as we are able to locate our Self as the deepest reality of all things, we will be able to locate the same reality even in a stone. Everything in the world will shine like the light of the sun, and sparks of flame, as it were, will be seen jetting forth from every atom in the cosmos. If we see solar light emerging from every atom and every electron, only then does it become possible for us to consider outside things as beloved, as valuable as our own self.

Ᾱtmaupamyena sarvatra samaṁ paśyati yo’rjuna, sukhaṁ vā yadi vā duḥkhaṁ sa yogī paramo mataḥ: “Whether he is in a happy state or in an unhappy state, that great yogi is lodged in Me.” This is a great promise, a kind of manifesto, as it were, that the Lord has bequeathed to us in these four verses which tell us how great God is, how compassionate God can be, how near God is to us, and how easy it is to contact Him. All these aspects of our relationship with God are brought out in these four verses, which we should recite. They can be recited in any language.

A doubt arises in the mind. “Well, all this is very well. I practice yoga, and I am struggling to achieve perfection in this life itself. But suppose, in spite of my ardent struggle and striving, I do not attain the goal before the discarding of this body. Suppose death overtakes me before the attainment of the goal of yoga, notwithstanding the fact that I have been practising yoga. What will happen to me? Is it going to be a waste of effort? Is it true that when death takes place, everything is destroyed? Then all the effort in the direction of God-realisation by way of yoga will also be destroyed. Years of practice will become futile. Is this going to be my fate or anybody’s fate if, per chance, one dies in the middle of the practice of yoga? Will not the soul perish into shreds of unfulfilled aims like a cloud rent apart? What good is there in practising yoga when death is at the elbow and it can kill me at any moment?”

To this, a great consoling reply comes from the great Lord. There is no perishing of effort. The body may be discarded, but the force that is generated by our concentration, by our practice of yoga, will come with us because in death the body perishes but the mind does not perish. What takes rebirth is the mind. The desire-filled mind discards this body because it cannot have any more experience through this body. As we discard an old shirt because it is worn out, and put on a new shirt, the mind that is to fulfil further desires in some form or the other discards the old shirt of this body and puts on a new shirt in the form of a new body. Therefore, the mind does not die in death. It is only the body that goes. Hence, because all effort in yoga is a mental effort, a conscious operation, our yoga practice will not be futile or a waste because the mind will take with it all its assets in the form of the great work that it has done in meditation. The power of meditation which is impregnated into the very structure of the mind will be carried with it even if we take another birth. So, we should not be afraid that if we die in the midst of the practice of yoga there will be a loss of effort. No such thing will take place.

Because of the power of our practice, we may be born in a highly conducive atmosphere in which there is no kind of disturbance to us. Now we have a lot of disturbances—political disturbance, social disturbance, personal disturbance, communal disturbance, and all kinds of things. Due to difficulties of this kind, we cannot easily practice yoga in this world. No such difficulty will be there afterwards. All factors will be conducive to our practice. We will be born into such a noble family, into a royal family, as it were, due to the great practice that we have carried on in this present life. Or we may even become the son or daughter of a great yogi such as Vasishtha or Vyasa. Then what else would we require? Such blessedness is difficult to attain, but it is possible to attain it. Thus, there should not be any fear in the practice of yoga. Even if we die having practised only a little, the whole effort will be carried forward as assets are carried forward in a balance sheet.

 

Discourse 18: A Summary of the First Six Chapters

We may cast a retrospective glance over the studies that we have made up to this time, which comprise the first six chapters of the Bhagavadgita. These first six chapters form an independent book by themselves. The eighteen chapters of the Gita have been classified into three books: the first six, the next six, and the last six. The first six chapters, as we might have noticed, lay emphasis particularly on the individual’s discipline by rightly directed activity. We have been told several things in all these six chapters: how an individual should behave, how an individual should conduct himself, and how yogic discipline has to be the central motif of every spiritual seeker.

In the First Chapter we are introduced to the scenery of the actual workaday world of what we may call mutual conflict, and an inner instinct for waging war even with one’s own neighbour, kith and kin, and family members. This was the predicament in which Arjuna found himself; and man is symbolised by Arjuna. We have the representative of man in Arjuna. We can find the weaknesses and the strengths of human individuality in Arjuna’s personality. Whatever we feel, he too felt. Whatever is our forte and foible, that was also his forte and foible. Actually, every day we do the same things that he was doing, but in a different magnitude. We may not actually find ourselves on a large field of battle with elephants, chariots, horses and drawn swords; but in a miniature, more modified form, we are on a battlefield every day, each one of us, if we consider the fact that there is some conflict that we have to face from morning to evening. This conflict is partly in our own selves because it has not always been easy for us to reconcile our judicial and rational understandings with our instinctive feelings, biological calls, and the like. We also feel some difficulty in adjusting ourselves with people outside. Great effort is necessary to see that we do not come in conflict with other people. Though a person may be very near us, maybe living next door, we have to adjust ourselves with him, notwithstanding his nearness. We experience a strain owing to the necessity that we feel to adjust ourselves from moment to moment in the atmosphere that we are placed; and we know that we are always placed in some atmosphere every day socially, geographically, naturally.

Now there is a big storm, which we never expected; yesterday it was so hot, and tomorrow it may be something else. This is a geographical and natural phenomenon with which we have to adjust ourselves so that we may not fall ill. And, of course, there are various ways in which people think. Not everyone thinks in the same manner every day. As evolution advances, the pattern of thinking in individuals also goes on changing. We cannot take any person in this world for granted, because every individual undergoes even psychological modifications on account of the gunas of prakriti—sattva, rajas, tamas—modifications in the onward march through the process of evolution.

A peculiar difficulty has been briefly picturised before us in the First Chapter of the Bhagavadgita—a chaos of mental activity, and a peculiar difficulty whose causes are not easily detectable. Fortunately for Arjuna, Sri Krishna was his guide and, therefore, he was in a better position than many of us here who do not have guides of that kind. Sri Krishna immediately placed Arjuna in the proper context of his activity, saying that all the social and psychological difficulties he felt, which he expressed in the First Chapter, were due to a lack of knowledge.

Here, by ‘knowledge’ Sri Krishna meant the structure of the universe in the light of the components of prakriti as detailed for us in the Sankhya philosophy. Everything in the world—outside as well as inside, individually as well as cosmically—is supposedly constituted of twenty-four principles; and the relationship of oneself with this world is not actually a sentimental one. Our relationship to people outside and to the world is not sensory, not sentimental, not emotional; it is a different thing altogether. That our relationship with the outside world is altogether different from what we assume it to be was not known to Arjuna. And many of us are in the same condition; we do not know the world properly. Therefore, every day there is a peculiar anxiety in our minds, either in a submerged form or in an expressed, patent form.

Sankhya knowledge was lacking in Arjuna. Apart from that, even supposing he had been initiated into the doctrine of Sankhya, which is the pattern of the working of the cosmos, he could not implement it in daily life, especially in the conflict-ridden field where he was stationed. So he was lacking knowledge of both Sankhya and yoga.

The Second Chapter briefly lays the foundation for all the teachings in the Gita that follow. The various verses of the Second Chapter sow the seeds for more detailed enumeration of the very same theme that will come in the later chapters.

In the Third Chapter we saw in larger detail how one has to conduct oneself in this prakriti-ridden world—the world constituted of sattva, rajas and tamas—by applying the knowledge of Sankhya in our day-to-day activity. We should not be under the impression that we are the agents of action or the doers of anything whatsoever, as independent individuality is not permitted in the cosmic setup of the three gunas, which constitute the outside world as well as our own selves. Guṇā guṇeṣu vartanta iti matvā na sajjate (3.28), says the Third Chapter. Knowing that the three gunas in the form of the components that make up the individual collide with the very same gunas in the form of objects of sense—knowing this truth of prakriti itself working individually on the one side and cosmically on the other side—one does not get attached to any particular individual, event or activity.

We are born with a determination, a will and necessity to perform sacrifice. Sahayajñāḥ prajāḥ sṛṣṭvā purovāca prajāpatiḥ, anena prasaviṣyadhvam eṣa vo’stviṣṭakāmadhuk (3.10): By mutual cooperation and mutual sacrifice, we will be able to live here comfortably in this world. If we are friendly with other people, those other people will also be friendly with us. A little sacrifice that we do will evoke the very same spirit of sacrifice from other people. Total independence of an individual is not possible in this world where individuality is weak in many ways and cooperation from other people is necessary. Hence, we have to show respect, and a sacrificial spirit should be our attitude towards other people because we expect the same sacrifice from others. It is a kind of mutual give-and-take policy of harmonised behaviour among individuals in society.

After hearing all this, the student may be perturbed: “This teaching is too high for me; it goes over my head. I seem to understand what You are saying, Lord Krishna, and the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. My body is trembling, my mind is running here and there with its distractive activities, and my soul is not able to reconcile itself with the demands of the sense organs, the physical body, and the fickle mind. How am I to actually utilise this knowledge that You have imparted to me in my daily work? I have got weaknesses of a hundred varieties.”

The Fourth Chapter tries to give a solacing reply to this doubt. Whenever we have such difficulty and we find ourselves in an impasse which we cannot easily cross, God Himself will descend in the form of an incarnation in order to help us. A descent of divine light will suddenly illumine the dark corners of our daily work. Yadā yadā hi dharmasya glānir bhavati bhārata, abhyutthānam adharmasya tadātmānaṁ sṛjāmy aham; paritrāṇāya sādhūnāṁ vināśāya ca duṣkṛtām, dharma- saṁsthāpanārthāya saṁbhavāmi yuge yuge (4.7-8). We noticed that God’s incarnating is a perpetual activity. It is not something that took place centuries back and may take place again after several centuries. It is the direct action that God takes at every crucial moment whenever there is an impossible situation, as it were, which we cannot handle even with the guidance of our associates.

A great problem is before us. We do not know whether to live or to die. Sometimes such situations arise, and it is then that we have to invoke a higher power. We had such difficulties in the ashram during Gurudev Swami Sivananadaji’s time—to be or not to be, to do or not to do. “Swamiji Maharaj, tomorrow there is a very difficult situation for us. We have no food to eat.” Or—“That person is giving this trouble. This person is a problem. What is to be done? Gurudev, these kind of problems are there.” His answer was, “Don’t bother. It will be all right”; and it became all right.

Now this sentence, “It will be all right,” is a kind of incarnation of God. It is a blessing that comes from a source that is not of this world, and we could not have handled it individually. In the same manner, Bhagavan Sri Krishna gives us a solacing message that we need not feel perturbed that it may be difficult for us to practise yoga. We should not think it is difficult, beyond us totally, physically as well as mentally. No! When we feel difficulty of this kind, when it is impossible for us to take even one step, if our hearts are pure and our feelings are sincere, we will see a light like a candle flame in front of us. Some good Samaritan will suddenly come to our help. Miracles take place every day, and they can be known to us if we have eyes to see and ears to hear. Therefore, no problems will be there.

Different kinds of spiritual practice are further described in the Fourth Chapter—the kinds of yajna, or sacrifice, in the form of worship, etc., that we have to perform. We went through this in detail towards the end of the Fourth Chapter.

The same subject was taken up in more detail in the Fifth Chapter, especially touching upon the qualities of a great siddha purusha: how he behaves, how he conducts himself in this world, how undetectable is his behaviour. Knowing everything, he behaves as if he knows nothing; and knowing that people are ignorant, he does not find fault with them. Like a good psychologist or a good teacher, he educates people at the level that they are in, whatever be the level. Whether it is the kindergarten level or the first standard or whatever it is, from that level the teacher who is a siddha purusha, who knows all the secrets of the cosmos, educates people. He does not criticise anybody, and he never says they are on the wrong path. He says they are on the right path, but it is an initial step that they have taken and, therefore, it is not adequate. We cannot say that the blundering difficulties that a child in the first standard is facing in school are to be condemned. It is a phase that everyone has to pass through, and it has to be a base for us to construct the subsequent structure of the mind. This is how the great sages behave in this world. Friendly, loving, compassionate, and very, very attractive—these are the qualities of a great saint. When we see him, we are attracted as if we are seeing the full moon, and we feel a solace, a kind of comfort even if he does not speak a word. That is the power his personality emanates in the form of an aura around him; and sometimes he teaches even without uttering a word. His very presence is an ashram, and his very presence is a solution to all our difficulties. Such things were described in the Fifth Chapter, towards the end of which three seed-like verses were mentioned as a preparation for what we have to study in the Sixth Chapter: sparśān kṛtvā bahir bāhyāṁś cakṣuś caivāntare bhruvoḥ, prāṇāpānau samau kṛtvā nāsābhyantaracāriṇau; yatendriyamanobuddhir munir mokṣaparāyaṇaḥ, vigatecchābhayakrodho yaḥ sadā mukta eva saḥ; bhoktāraṁ yajñatapasāṁ sarvalokamaheśvaram, suhṛdaṁ sarvabhūtānāṁ jñātvā māṁ śāntim ṛcchati (5.27-29).

By restraining the sense organs and settling the energy of the senses in the mind, settling the mind in the intellect, and settling the intellect in the buddhi, or the self inside, one restrains the total personality of oneself and attains the goal of self-discipline. And the greatest solace for us is not merely the confidence that we have attained some perfection in the process of self-discipline, but that God is our friend: suhṛdaṁ sarvabhūtānāṁ jñātvā māṁ śāntim ṛcchati. Our heart will well up with joy in one second if we know that God is our best friend. He is at our beck and call, and He is just now ready to come to us. If we are sure that this is a fact, our disciplines are surpassed by this great joy that arises in our hearts that God is with us, in us, and is ready to come to us just at this moment.

In the Sixth Chapter, we were introduced to the necessity for self-control by way of the subjugation of the lower self by the higher Self, whereby the higher Self becomes a friend of the lower self. But if the lower self insists or persists in its own egoistic behaviour in terms of objects of sense, etc., the higher Self will act as an enemy, the world will look like an enemy, and God Himself might look like an enemy; and He will not help us if we are disobedient to the laws of nature and the requirements of God’s ordinance.

The practical instructions went on as follows: We have to be seated in a particular place, on a seat that is comfortable, in a posture that is helpful, concentrating the mind on our ishta devata—the god whom we have chosen as the object of our concentration. I mentioned that the god, or the ishta devata, is not necessarily an object outside us; it is a transcendent principle that envelops us and is above us. Even in the initial stage of the concept of the ishta devata, the power that is God is a transcendent element that includes us, and is not just some image that is outside us. God is not outside even in the lowest of His manifestations. He is above us always.

Whether it is a Guru or a god, we must not consider a Guru or a god as some outside person. The Guru is above us, and not outside us, in the same way as the teacher is above the student, though he looks as if he is sitting outside on a chair. The outsideness of the teacher does not make him an external object to the student. He transcends the student in his comprehension of the teaching capacity and his knowledge. We have to be able to understand what transcendence means. The teacher’s knowledge includes whatever the student has and, therefore, he is above the student, even though he looks like an outside object sitting in front of the student. This also applies to the Guru. The Guru is not an object whom we can photograph and keep a picture of. The Guru is a force; and in that sense, we may say the Guru never dies. As God cannot die, the Guru also cannot die. It is a generated power which includes us, is above us and, therefore, it is not a physical individual. The Guru is a force.

We know that the physical body of the Guru will perish one day, since it is as much a component of physiology and anatomy as anybody else’s and, therefore, there is nothing especially valuable or divine in the physical body of the Guru. The divinity that is the Guru is in the essence that is inside, which is emanating a graceful energy around us as an aura; and that does not die. The Guru that we worship, in spite of our imagining that it is a physical body in front of us, is actually a force.

We hang a photo of our father on the wall, even though our father is dead. We have been worshipping our father even though he has gone. Who has gone? We cannot actually know who our father is. Our father is there in the form of a dead body, and we say that our father is still there. The father whom we were worshipping and photographing and considering as our superior in our daily life is still there in the form of the dead body, and we are actually hanging the photograph of only the body. But we say that our father has gone. What has gone? Our father is actually not the body that we are worshipping, and it is also not the photograph that is hanging on the wall. It is a force which we could not detect with our physical eyes, but which evoked a respect from us. So is the case with a Guru, and with God Himself.

Neither our father, nor our Guru, nor God Himself can be considered to be external objects. They are transcendent principles. This is an insight that we have to draw from the teachings of the Bhagavadgita, where Sri Krishna stood as the paramount Guru, or teacher, to Arjuna. Meditating on the ishta devata can mean meditating on any concept of God that we have in our minds. Some people ask to be initiated into meditation or to be given a mantra for japa. Generally, we ask them what concept they have of God. Some people say they worship Jesus. Some say they are devotees of Lord Krishna or Devi or Durga, etc. Some say they meditate on light as an all-pervading illumination. Some meditate on the bhrumadhya, which is the point between the eyebrows, or the heart, etc. These are indications of the way in which the mind of the student works, and the student has to be taken from that level and initiated into a mantra or a method of meditation.

In the beginning, meditation is externally construed because the mind is not capable of universally perceiving all things at the same time. Even when we think of God, notwithstanding the fact that we feel that He is everywhere, we picture Him as an external something which we can behold. Even when we are told that Arjuna saw the Visvarupa, we feel that the Visvarupa was spreading itself everywhere and Arjuna was standing somewhere outside and looking at it, as one would look at a movie on a cinema screen. Our involvement in space and time and objects creates such a peculiar defect in our minds that, somehow or the other, even a universal principle gets externalised.

The mind can think only in four ways: in terms of quantity, in terms of quality, in terms of relation, and in terms of a condition or mode. Quantity, quality, relation and modality—these are the four types of crucibles into which our mind is cast, and no one can think of anything except in terms of quantity, quality, relation and mode. Because of this helplessness that the mind feels on account of being cast into this crucible, it cannot conceive universality. The Universal is not a quantity, it is not a quality, it is not a relation, and it is not a condition, so how can we think of God as Universal Being? Hence, the Guru initiates us into a god whom we can conceive as something outside, and our dear god is standing in front of us as Lord Krishna, as Sri Rama, or Devi, or Jesus, as the case may be. Then we have to slowly educate our minds into higher concepts of this very god by feeling that the ishta devata that we are imagining to be present, or standing in front of us, is pervading all places. Krishna is not only in one place; Jesus is not in one place, etc. We universalise the concept of the otherwise localised ishta devata so that we may feel at home with all things in the world. Whoever beholds God everywhere and sees God in all things, and also sees all things in God, is never bereaved of God’s presence. These are the last instructions which are given towards the conclusion of the Sixth Chapter.

Arjuna raises a question regarding what happens to a person who dies even before he achieves perfection in yoga. It is frightening to conclude that one dies and achieves nothing in spite of all the effort in meditation. Sri Krishna’s answer is that nothing dies in spiritual effort. Only the physical body dies; the spiritual practice that we did or the yoga that we practised was not conducted by the physical body. It is the mind that did the sadhana, and the mind does not die. The deathless individual principle in us will carry itself forward like a rocket, rising up into a new body where we will find favourable circumstances for the completion of our sadhana and our onward march. Because of the sadhana that we have performed in this life, we will be reborn into a well-to-do family that will not disturb us or place obstacles in front of us. All favourable conditions will be provided to us in the family into which we are born. Due to a premonition of the previous practice, we will suddenly take up the thread from the very point which we left in the previous life. We will be able to grasp things quickly. There are precocious people who immediately understand things, who catch things better than other students. This precocity is due to the experience, learning, practice and goodness that they had in the previous life, which carries them forward. Sri Krishna says that we may even be born as sons or daughters of great yogis, which is a still greater blessing than to be born under favourable circumstances in a well-to-do family. But this is very difficult to attain. To become the son of Vasishtha or Vyasa is not an easy thing, but it is worthwhile attempting.

Therefore, the total activity of the cosmos is an onward march, and we are included in this total activity of the cosmos in the process of evolution. Hence, all the participation that we extend by way of our harmonious relations with the world and by the practice of yoga will carry us forward, onward, and we will be more blissful and more juxtaposed in our relationship with the Ultimate Reality.

This is a kind of summing up of the essentials that the Bhagavadgita places before us in the first six chapters. We would have noticed there is not much mention of God here. Very little or no mention at all is made. The first six chapters just tell us what we have to do, and in what manner. But the individual is not a complete reality in itself. Even a highly disciplined individual is, after all, an individual. It is a finite entity. How will the finite contact the Infinite?

From the Seventh Chapter onwards we will be brought in contact with the cosmos, in whose relation we are placed as individuals organically connected with realities that go beyond our finitude. This subject we shall take up from tomorrow onwards.