Bhaja Govindam

Bhaja Govindam
Satsanga with Sri Swami Viditatmananda Saraswati
Transcribed and edited by Krishnakumar (KK) S. Davey and Jayshree Ramakrishnan.

Introduction

This is a poem consisting of 31 verses composed by Ādi Śaṅkarācārya. He was a wise man, a great teacher, devotee and karma yogi. He appeared in India about 1200 to 1500 years ago at a time when the people were mired in confusions and misconceptions about religion and the scriptures. There were many schools of philosophy prevalent at that time and the common man was unclear about the teachings of the scriptures. There were also many distortions in the interpretations of the various rituals and stipulations of the scriptures, and the people were distressed by the many practices that involved the sacrifice of animals etc. Thus, at the time that Ādi Śaṅkarācārya appeared, a desperate situation obtained for the spiritual seeker and the confusion and desperation within, manifested in the behavior and conduct of the people.

Śrī Śaṅkarācārya is said to be an incarnation of Lord Śiva because in the short span of his life of 32 years his accomplishment was so phenomenal. Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru said of him, that what Śrī Śaṅkarācārya accomplished in one short life is much more than what many people would accomplish in many life times. While there are many legends about Śrī Śaṅkarācārya, as is the case with most of the ancient sages of India, there are not many historical facts available to us. We can only learn about him through his works.

Śrī Śaṅkarācārya’s most important work is, of course, his commentary upon the Upaniñads, the Brahma-Sūtra and the Bhagavad Gītā. This provided access to the knowledge contained in these basic texts of our culture. Until then, the teachings of the scriptures were not available to the common man because there were not many teachers who could unfold what the scriptures had to say.

Śrī Śaṅkarācārya was a great teacher, who traveled along the entire country as many as three times, teaching the truths of the scriptures to the people. He conducted debates with learned people wherever necessary, in order to make them appreciate the true vision of the scriptures. Many of his opponents subsequently became his disciples. Thus, he had a large following in India among kings and scholars as well as ordinary people. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya can be credited with reviving the Vedic culture and Hindu tradition. If not for him, India would perhaps be different from what it is today.

Legend has it that he knew his native language, Malayālam, by the time he was two, and Sanskrit, by the age of three. By the age of five, he knew the Vedas, and completed all his studies at the gurukulam when he was seven. He took sannyāsa at the age of eight and by the time he was twelve, he had completed the study of all the scriptures like the Brahma-Sūtra and the Upaniñads. Between the ages of 12 and 16, he traveled, wrote his commentaries, and taught his disciples. His life was supposed to end at 16, but it is believed that he was given another 16 years to live by the great sage Veda Vyāsa.

Bhagavān Vyāsa is supposed to have come to Śrī Śaṅkarācārya in the guise of an old Brahmin and at the end of a lengthy debate blessed him with another 16 years of life. Sage Vyāsa apparently urged him to go around the country and spread the knowledge and therefore, the last 16 years of Śrī Śaṅkarācārya’s life were spent in spreading this knowledge throughout India.

Background and Circumstances of Composition
There are legends relating to many of the hymns composed by Śrī Śaṅkarācārya, and there is a similar background to this composition. It is said that once, when Śrī Śaṅkarācārya was in Benares, he came upon an old pundit, a scholar, repeating the aphorisms of the grammarian Pāṇini. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya was moved that the scholar who was almost at the point of death was repeating the aphorism. He wondered whether the old man understood the value of this kind of accomplishment. He could see that the man was confused, and in the poem, addresses him as a mūḍhaḥ. A mūḍhaḥ is not so much a fool, as one who is lost or deluded.

A person who knows that he is lost will ask for the right way, and can then correct his path, but a person who is lost and unaware that he is lost goes about doing what he is doing, without knowing it. You can compare a deluded person to one who is intoxicated and does not know what he is doing, and has to be slapped back into consciousness or brought to his senses in a harsh manner. This old scholar thought that whatever he was doing was right. Seeing him, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya decided that it was necessary to draw his attention to the realities of life. In these 31 verses Śrī Śaṅkarācārya addresses the common man who imagines certain realities, unaware that he is pursuing something that is unintelligent.

Mūḍhamati means one whose mind is ‘lost’ as it were. The common man is lost in his life. It is as though Śrī Śaṅkarācārya is slapping us in order to bring us back into consciousness. There are certain realities of life to which we have not been awake so far. He wants to awaken us from sleep, and perhaps, therefore, uses what may appear to be a harsh word, mūḍhamate.

This poem is known as the Bhaja Govindam because the first verse begins with the words, “Bhajagovindaṃ bhajagovindam”. It was originally called the Moha Mudgara. A mudgara is a mallet or hammer, and moha means delusion. Delusion, like intoxication, requires to be dealt with firmly, and through these verses Śrī Śaṅkarācārya delivers some strokes of the mallet in order to rouse us out of delusion and restore proper consciousness to those of us who are lost in life.

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Verse 1


Verse 1

भज गोविन्दं भज गोविन्दं गोविन्दं भज मूढमते ।
सम्प्राप्ते सन्निहिते काले नहि नहि रक्षति डुकृङ्करणे ॥ १॥
bhajagovindaṃ bhajagovindaṃ govindaṃ bhajamūḍhamate,
samprāpte sannihite kāle nahi nahi rakñati ḍukṛïkaraṇe.

Worship Govinda, worship Govinda, worship Govinda, oh deluded mind! (Intellectual pursuits such as) rules of grammar will not save you at the time of your death.

ḍukṛïkaraṇe. In Sanskrit, the verbal root kṛ, in the sense of karaṇe, means to do. This is an aphorism in the dhātu pāta, a list of the verbs provided by Pāṇini. It is symbolic of all the aphorisms of grammar in the pursuit of the knowledge of grammar. Here, the knowledge of grammar stands for any intellectual pursuit. Thus, ḍukṛïkaraṇe represents the various intellectual pursuits in life.

Nahi rakñati, does not protect. The accomplishments in various intellectual fields do not serve to protect you. When? 

Samprāpte sannihite kāle. Samprāpte means very well obtained. Kāla means time or death. Samprāpte sannihite kāle is when the appointed time draws near, or when death arrives. At that time, none of these intellectual accomplishments will protect you or save you.

Every pursuit in our life is a pursuit of freedom
What kind of protection is being talked about here? It is protection from death itself. Everyone wants to be saved or protected from the very idea of death. No one likes death; death represents all my grief, all my sorrow, all my sufferings, isolation, and fear. Therefore, what one is seeking is freedom from death. If we analyze our pursuits in life we will appreciate that we are all seeking freedom from death. Nobody ever wants to die. One always wants to perpetuate existence, live for a day more. Even though I may be a totally useless entity in this world, I do not think so. People may say, “The time has come, why don’t you quit?” But I will not want to quit. Why? Because I have a natural love for life, a natural love for existence, a desire for immortality.

We are all seeking freedom from bondage, dependence, and smallness. Seeking freedom from death is one way of expressing that freedom. It appears as though everyone is going in different directions, seeking different things. One wants to be wealthy, another wants to be powerful. What one is looking forward to, somebody else wants to get rid of; one wants to be famous, another wants to renounce fame, and while one wants power and position, yet another is seeking to be free from them. What anyone is doing in life seems to be different from what everyone else is doing, but each one is seeking the same end in life.

Everyone is seeking to be protected, seeking to be saved, seeking to be free. If everyone wants to be free, how are they doing different things? Different people have different concepts of freedom and each one pursues freedom according to his or her notions. That is why in the very pursuit of freedom we wind up, more often than not, with more bondage and more entanglement. 

All our pursuits only create new bondage
Everything that gives me freedom also creates some bondage. I build a house thinking that I will be free, but then I find that the very house binds me! The very thing that I pursued in order to gain freedom, does give me some freedom, but also gives me a certain other kind of bondage. When I do not have a job, I set about looking for a job. Then I get a job, but find that I have to leave for work early in the morning every weekday. I lose the freedom of getting up late in the morning! I have to pay a price for everything. That seems to be the nature of everything in this world. We are not saying that it should not be this way. All of these things, a job, a house, or a car, are required in life and do have a place in our lives. They contribute something to our life, but the point is, do they have what we are seeking? Are they capable of providing what we are looking for?

Every happiness is accompanied by some unhappiness, burden, or responsibilities and every gain is associated with some loss or price. That is the reason why we do not seem to get what we want. We are pursuing freedom from death, ignorance, and unhappiness. Through our various pursuits, we are seeking to be saved from something. We are seeking rakñanam or protection from mortality, ignorance, and pain or suffering. That is why Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says nahi nahi rakñati. He asks us to think about what we are seeking to accomplish, and then inquire into whether what we are doing can truly enable us to accomplish our goal.

Suppose you want to go to Chicago, which is west of Pennsylvania, and you take a highway that goes east, will you ever be able to reach your destination? Similarly, will these various pursuits enable you to accomplish what you are seeking in life? The answer is nahi nahi rakñati, all these accomplishments will not provide you what you are seeking. They will not give you the freedom or the immortality or the happiness or the joy that you are seeking. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya is pointing out here that what all human beings are seeking is universal. Since everybody is seeking freedom, there is one common solution to the human problem. What is the solution? It is, “bhajagovindaṃ bhajagovindaṃ govindaṃ bhajamūḍhamate”.

Seeing the impermanent as permanent is delusion
Mūḍhamate, mūḍha mati. A mūḍhamate is one whose mati or perception is deluded, one who does not know what one is seeking and, therefore, is not aware of the real purpose of life. Moha or delusion is aviveka. Viveka is discrimination, seeing a thing for what it is. The opposite of discrimination is aviveka or moha. It is also called adhyāsa, superimposition, which results in seeing one thing where it is not, atasmin tad buddhiḥ. In Vedanta, moha is seeing that which is not there, or seeing something to be different from what it is in reality, e.g., taking the rope for a snake, or seeing happiness where it is not. Seeing the impermanent as permanent is delusion, just as taking the permanent to be impermanent is also delusion. In the same way, seeing the non-self as the self is delusion, as surely as seeing the self as non-self is delusion. Therefore, the true purpose of life is gaining freedom from moha.

‘I’ consists of the Person and the Personality
Who am I? That which I call ‘I’ is a complex entity consisting of two aspects, a person and a personality. In the same way as an actor consists of his person and his costume, within me, there is both a person and a personality. My mind and intellect form the personality. This body is part of the personality. Associated with the personality is the person, who is a simple, conscious being, the I. However, I do not discriminate between the person and the personality, and therefore, these two are lumped together. If I do not know the identity of the actor playing a beggar, I may take him to be a real beggar. What we call ‘beggar’ is really the attribute of the costume and not of the one who is wearing that costume. When one does not know this, one takes both to be one entity, when, in fact, they are two. The ignorant person may feel that there is a beggar and may even go ahead and give him a penny.

The limited personality is mistakenly regarded as ‘I’
As in the example of the actor and his costume, there are two entities in the ‘I’: the person and the personality. The personality is the costume that the ‘I’, the person, is wearing. We do not have that viveka or discrimination and, therefore, take ourselves to be this personality. Each one of us takes ourselves to be a limited individual. Having taken myself to be a limited being, just this body or this limited personality, I am constantly struggling to become free from this limitation, this smallness. This is the story of our life. Therefore, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says mūḍhamate. It is not only the old paṇḍita who is mūḍha or deluded. Each one of us is deluded.

Taking the person for the personality is delusion
We do not even have to make an effort to be deluded; we are born deluded. In the Gītā [7-27] Lord Kṛṣṇa says, “Hey Arjuna, all beings, at the time of birth itself, are deluded about their true nature, sarvabhūtāni sammohaṃ sarge yānti parantapa”.

I do not know what my true nature is. Everything that I do is an attempt to become free from my sense of limitation. The question is of whether this sense of limitation is real. Am I really limited? Vedanta says that the ‘I’, the person, is not limited. It says, tat tvam asi, you are already that free and limitless being, the whole being that you are seeking to be. Taking the free self to be bound is delusion and taking the whole being to be small is delusion. This body is a costume, a dwelling place, and the mind, an instrument given to me. The body and the mind are given to me to perform various functions. They are the non-self, and to take them to be me, the Self, is delusion.

You are a simple conscious being, free, complete, and whole. This is the true nature of the Self. You take yourself to be bound, to be small, and to be limited, but it is not the truth about you. It is merely a notion. Why does that notion arise? It is because you take the body, the mind, and the personality to be the Self.

I find that the body is mortal, and, therefore, I take myself also to be mortal. As a result, I seek to be immortal by perpetuating the existence of this body. I find that the mind is small, its abilities are limited, its skills are limited, and its accomplishments are limited. Therefore, I seek to become free from that sense of limitation by making my mind limitless. I keep accumulating a variety of information and knowledge thinking that I will become all-knowing. I want

to control more people, I want more strength and more energy so that I may become omnipotent, all powerful, and I want to become immortal at the level of the personality. This is a futile effort. Regardless of what I do, the body can never be made immortal. What is born is definitely going to die. Regardless of what I do, I can never become omniscient. My knowledge is always going to be limited.

Govinda is the Person, my own Self
What should I do? Bhajagovindaṃ bhajagovindaṃ govindaṃ bhajamūḍhamate. Bhaja means worship. Bhajagovindam means worship of Govinda. What is Govinda? Govinda is that freedom, the wholeness, the immortality, and the totality that I am seeking. In common usage, Govinda means Lord Kṛṣṇa. The word go means cow. The one who protects the go is Govinda, gam vindati iti govindaṃ. The Lord was a cowherd, so he was called Govinda. It seems to be

said here, may you worship Śrī Kṛṣṇa, but the word go has several other meanings as well. When we analyze the meanings of the word Govinda, we understand that, in this context, Govinda means the limitless Self. 

Another meaning of the word go is pṛthvī or earth. Lord Kṛṣṇa is called Govinda, the protector of the earth, in his incarnation as a varāha or boar. It is said that Hiraṇyākña, the asura, took the earth and went into the rasā-tala or waters. When the earth disappeared the people were upset and approached the Lord and asked Him to save the earth. So the Lord appeared as a varāha, battled Hiraṇyākña, killed him, and brought the earth back from the waters. Lord Kṛṣṇa is thus Govinda, the retriever of the earth.

Go can also be taken to mean the sense organs. Govindaṃ, then, is the one who impels the sense organs, the one who enlivens the sense organs, or the one who directs the sense organs to perform their appointed functions. For example, take the fan, which rotates in the presence of electricity. We can see the movement of the blades, but not the electricity which causes it. Similarly, we observe the functioning of our organs of action and our organs of perception, but while we may not perceive it, Govinda alone enables the various faculties to perform their various functions. The Kenopaniñad [5] says:

yad vācānabhyuditaṃ yena vāg abhyudate
tad eva brahma tvaṃ viddhi nedaṃ yad idam upāsate

May you understand that Brahman is that (Consciousness) which is not revealed by speech, but by which (Consciousness) the speech is revealed. This (deity) which (people) meditate upon is not (Brahman). 

The Self that is Govindaḥ is that which cannot be revealed by speech, but because of which speech is revealed, that which cannot be seen by the eyes, but because of which the eyes are able to see, and that which cannot be thought of by the mind, but because of which the mind thinks.

The word go also means speech. In this sense, it means the one who is behind all speech. Govindaḥ is the one because of whom all speech occurs, and because of whom words have the ability to reveal their meanings.

Thus, the name Govinda is not necessarily limited to Śrī Kṛṣṇa. In a broad sense, it means the Self, the truth or the Consciousness. It is the happiness that is behind every name and form and, indeed, that which is behind everything in the creation. That Self is Govindaḥ. Therefore, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, bhajagovindaṃ bhajagovindaṃ govindaṃ bhajamūḍhamate, may you worship Govinda, which is your very Self. It is not only your Self, but the Self of all. May you realize that it is not what you are seeking at the moment. It is not to be found in the pursuit of intellectual or material accomplishments. What you are seeking is to be found in this Govinda alone.

Seeking Govinda is the purpose of life
What is the purpose of life? Bhajagovindam bhajagovindam. Seeking or knowing Govinda is the purpose of life. Samprāpte sannihite kāle. Why is death mentioned here? The one to whom this is addressed, the old paṇḍita who is close to death, does not understand the importance of time or of priorities. This is called pramāda or inadvertence. It is an involvement with something other than which the situation demands. Of course, this does not mean that grammatical rules or secular achievements are condemned. Rather, it is their inappropriateness that is shown here. When you are dying, you should be preparing for death.

The jīva has come in the human form in order to accomplish a certain purpose, but we come here and get distracted by so many fascinations and attractions that we forget the reason why we are here. It is like taking a scenic route on the way to our destination and getting distracted along the way. A story is told to illustrate this. Once upon a time, a king made an announcement

to all his subjects that on a given day, he would be available to them throughout the day. The citizens could come and ask for whatever they wanted, and he would fulfill their desires. On that day, he was in a house on top of a hill in a beautiful garden. All the people in the kingdom started coming in the morning to see him. They had to pass through the great big garden to reach his home. In the garden, they found shops selling clothing and jewelry, they found restaurants, games, shows, entertainment etc. The people were distracted by all these wonderful attractions, and that entire day, not even a single person managed to reach the king’s house. This is an example of mūḍhamatiḥ. They were all distracted, deluded and lost. They came there in order to see the king and fulfill their desires, but got lost on account of these other fascinations on the way. They lost sight of their priorities. The Bhajagovindam is a reminder that your journey has to be in keeping with your objectives.

No other pursuit gives us what we are seeking
Every accomplishment holds a lot of fascination for me, only, when I get it, I find that it is not what I was looking for. There is another story that shows what a human being does in the various pursuits of life. It is of a time when Lord Rāma and Sītādevī had come back from Lanka, having conquered Rāvaṇa. One day, they were going for a walk, and Hanumanji was following them. In reminiscing about the olden days, and how Hanumanji had served them, Sītādevī was so pleased with Hanumanji that she took off a beautiful pearl necklace that she was wearing, and gave it to him. After a while, Sītādevī heard some cracking sounds coming from behind, and when she looked back, she saw that Hanumanji was cracking open the pearls one by one in his mouth. She was surprised and asked him what he was doing. “I am looking for my Rāma,” he replied. Hanumanji was cracking open each pearl, looking to see if Lord Rāma was there, and not finding Lord Rāma in it, throwing it away. Similarly, we are also searching for Lord Rāma or Govinda in each of our pursuits; searching for that freedom, that happiness, or that immortality.

Everybody wants all the happiness that one can get. Everybody wants happiness all the time and in all the places, without any limitation of time and space. Moreover, we do not want any strings attached to our happiness; we want unconditional happiness. Also, we do not want to exert ourselves at all in order to be happy. It is what we call ānanda, happiness without any limitation. The happiness that lasts all the time is called sat. I want to feel happy and also know that I am happy. That means I want happiness with knowledge. Awareful happiness is called cit. Therefore, what every man is really seeking in life is this sat cit ānanda. We may not know this. We may perhaps never have given thought to what we are seeking in life. When we do give thought to what we are seeking in life, we realize that we are seeking nothing less than sat cit ānanda.

The limitation of all our pursuits is pointed out to us. Is there any pursuit that will give us what we are seeking? No. That is why each one of us, like Hanumanji, takes a pearl and cracks it open to see whether or not it contains sat cit ānanda. I work hard for something, I get the result, and I examine it to see whether what I seek is there. It is not there, and I am not satisfied. I work hard for another pearl. I crack it open. Again, I am not satisfied. I go for yet another. Thus, there is no end to what one is seeking. How is it that we do not seem to be satisfied with any accomplishment? Every accomplishment seems to give me satisfaction for a period of time, no doubt, but then again, I find that I desire something else. Why is it so? It is because there is no accomplishment that is capable of providing what I am seeking, that sat cit ānanda, that fullness called God or the Self. This is what Śrī Śaṅkarācārya is pointing out here. Samprāpte sannihite kāle, when death comes at the appointed time, all of your accomplishments are there in front of you, but you find that they are insignificant. That is what is meant by nahi nahi rakñati ḍukṛïkaraṇe. These secular accomplishments will not protect you, meaning they will not give you a sense of fulfillment. The worship of Govinda should be the priority of our life.

Dedicate all your actions to Govinda
Does this mean that I should stop all my pursuits? Should I become a renunciate? Should I give up my job and start repeating the name, Govinda? What is the meaning of worshiping Govinda? Worshiping Govinda is not doing any particular thing, but realizing that whatever I do should become a means for the attainment of the ultimate goal. All the accomplishments in life have a purpose, alright, but they are a means and not the end. Let all your accomplishments become a means for the attainment of Govinda, the ultimate goal. This is what the scriptures teach us.

The Bhagavad Gītā teaches us how to make our life a means for the attainment of Govinda. Lord Kṛṣṇa says, “Remember me at all times, and continue to perform your duty, tasmāt sarveñu kāleñu mām anusmara yudhya ca” [Bhagavadgītā, 8-7]. Here, we are provided with a vision of life. Whatever action you perform, do it with a particular attitude, as an offering to the Lord. Your whole life, then, becomes a means for attaining Govinda. A river is totally devoted to reaching the ocean. Whatever the river does is towards that purpose. If an obstacle comes in its way the river may change course, but eventually, it will go back to the pursuit of reaching the ocean. In the same manner, let all your activities be focused like those of the river. Keep in mind that what you are seeking in life is Govinda. Therefore, let the purpose of every activity be to reach Govinda.

There is nothing wrong in serving the world or even acquiring wealth etc. However, pursue all your activities keeping that goal in mind. Everybody is a devotee. Some are devoted to wealth, and some to their spouse, or children, or job. Don’t be a devotee of any of these things. “Then how about my spouse, and children?” Let that devotion also be a means for worship of Govinda. Realize that the attainment of Govinda is the only true goal of your life.

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Verse 2

Verse 2


Even when there is nitya-anitya-vastu viveka or discrimination between the eternal and the ephemeral, there are various internal and external obstacles. The following verses, therefore, mention some of the important obstacles that we have to overcome in order that the bhajnam or worship of Govinda can be performed without difficulty or distractions. One important obstacle is mentioned in the second verse.

मूढ जहीहि धनागमतृष्णां कुरु सद्बुद्धिं मनसि वितृष्णाम् ।
वितृष्णाम् यल्लभसे निजकर्मोपात्तं वित्तं तेन विनोदय चित्तम् ॥चित्तम् २॥
mūḍha jahīhi dhanāgamatṛiṣāṃ kuru sadbuddhiṃ manasi vitṛiṣām,
yallabhase nijakarmopāttaṃ vittaṃ tena vinodaya cittam.

Oh deluded one! May you give up your craving for the accumulation of wealth; (and) may you contemplate upon Govinda in your mind. Be content with whatever wealth is obtained through your honest efforts.

Mūḍha is the deluded one who is distracted on account of the various fascinations in life, and therefore, distracted from the path. Jahīhi is give up. Tṛiṣāṃ is thirst. Dhanāgamatṛiṣāṃ is the thirst or craving for the accumulation of wealth.

Human beings are greedy
Greed is a big problem for the human being, and an important obstacle in the way of worship. He not only wants wealth, but also the accumulation of wealth. There is no grudge against wealth in this observation. We do require wealth to provide for our basic necessities such as food, shelter, and clothing. Without money, day-to-day life cannot be sustained. Therefore, it is not money itself, but dhanāgamatṛiṣām, the craving for money, that is the problem.

The human being has some kind of fascination for money. We can never be satisfied, regardless of how much we have. The more we acquire, the more we want. This is called greed, dissatisfaction with what we have and a need for more. As long as there is greed, all our energy and concentration is going to be directed towards acquiring more and more wealth. Therefore Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, ‘May you give up that thirst for wealth’. He does not say give up wealth, because he knows that money is necessary for the sustenance of life.

Only the human being derives joy from possession and accumulation. We do not find this tendency elsewhere, in other life forms. We are not satisfied with the money that is just enough to fulfill our needs. We always want more and more. When I was a child, I used to fill up a box with my marbles. Every night I would shake it, hear the noise, and count the number of marbles. It gave me great satisfaction to get more marbles. Although I had a hundred marbles, I would not part with even one to my younger brother. Why? They were all mine. What satisfaction is that? It is the satisfaction of possession. We accumulate not only wealth, but even clothes, shoes etc. We look at these things with great satisfaction, even though we may not wear most of our clothes. Similarly, even though we may not use that money, we want more and more of it. Why? Our satisfaction appears greater with the possession of more wealth. Unfortunately, a man cannot enjoy what he has because his mind is always preoccupied with what he does not have. He continually compares himself with others and is always trying to keep up with the Joneses. He exhausts himself completely, but will still find no satisfaction at all.

Greed is an obstacle in the worship of Govinda
Tṛiṣa, or the thirst for accumulating wealth is a destructive thing. It destroys the personality and completely exhausts our energy because we will never be free from this thirst.

The one who has no money wants a 100. The one who has a 100 wants a 1000. The one who has a 1000 wants a 100,000. The one who has a 100,000 wants to be a king. The king wants to be a sovereign of the earth. The sovereign of the earth wants to be Indra, the king of the heavens. Indra wants to be Brahmā. Brahmā wants to be Viṣṇu. Viṣṇu wants to be Śiva.

Who has ever attained the end of craving? When a man does not have a single rupee, all he wants is one hundred rupees. Give him a hundred rupees and ask him if he is satisfied. He will want one thousand, śatī daśaśatam. If he has one thousand, he wants a million. If he has a million, he wants more, he wants to be a minister, and so on. The thirst is never ending; it merely changes form.

Therefore, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, ‘May you give up the craving or thirst for the accumulation of wealth, jahīhi dhanāgamatṛiṣām’. It is an obstacle in the worship of Govinda. It is not possible for these two objectives to be present together. It is impossible to have that thirst and worship Govinda at the same time.

People ask this question, “How can I get peace of mind? When I sit down for prayer, I am not able to concentrate”. Unless we bring about some fundamental changes in our perceptions and values of life it is not possible to control a mind which is under the control of greed. The Īśāvāsya Upaniñad [1] also says, ‘May you not have greed for anybody’s wealth,’ “tena tyaktena bhuïjīthā mā gṛdhaḥ kasyasviddhanam”. Be satisfied with what you have.

Focus on Govinda
Kuru sadbuddhiṃ manasi vitṛiṣām. Manasi means in your mind, and buddhi means thought. Sadbuddhi is thoughts about sat, the truth or reality, or about Govinda. May you contemplate upon Govinda in your mind, says Śrī Śaṅkarācārya. It is the focus that is important here. People tell me that they have focus as long as they are in the ashram, but once they go out and start working, the mind gets preoccupied with so many other things that the focus gets lost.

We can maintain the focus on Govinda if we make all our actions revolve around Govinda. Just as we do pradakñiṇa or circumambulation around the Lord fixing him at the center of our focus, so also, in the worship of Govinda, the Lord should become the focus of whatever we do. How can we make this happen? This will happen when we are alert, when our mind is free from distractions. When would that be? That will come about when the mind is free from tṛiṣām or craving. Vigatā tṛiṣām yasmāt tat vitṛiṣām, that from which the craving or tṛiṣām has gone away is vitṛiṣām. What makes us dwell upon wealth and money is not the money itself, but the craving, the greed for more. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya is pointing out that the craving for wealth is an obstacle because the mind can focus either outwardly or inwardly, not both ways.

Eliminate craving by developing a correct attitude towards wealth
Our mind does not have to be controlled. All we have to do is seek to eliminate those factors which distract the mind. Certain things draw my mind away from me. If you remove those factors the mind will not be drawn away, and will remain stable and focused. The tṛiṣa or craving in the mind can be removed by realizing that the craving does not have any value beyond providing certain basic necessities in our life. We should have a healthy attitude towards wealth. We should recognize the place wealth has in our life, and assign it that place. To say that wealth is useless is wrong. To say that wealth is everything is also wrong. If you have responsibilities towards the family, you have to provide for that. At the same time, understand that there is no end to your requirements. You can keep on increasing what you consider to be your necessities and find that there is never enough money to fulfill them. The same people who lived happily in an apartment in India with no car, soon learn to live in a six-bedroom house with three cars in the USA! As Pujya Swami Dayanandaji says, what we call progress is merely converting luxuries into necessities.

Spiritual life requires an understanding of all of our priorities. An austere life with the minimum necessities is definitely one of the first requirements. I give only as much importance to wealth as belongs to it, and not beyond. We give undue importance to wealth because we are insecure and seek security in wealth. Here, the ācārya is saying that money cannot provide security. Where is security to be found? Can an insecure thing give you security? Somebody can take your money away, and the money will go with him; it will not protest. Therefore, neither money nor wealth or anything else can give you security. Security is that which you discover from within yourself. Money has no role to play besides satisfying your basic necessities. If you have more, may you give it to the people who need it, deyaṃ dīnajanāya ca vittam [Bhajagovindam, 27]. Bhajanam or worship of Govinda is possible only in a mind that is free from tṛiṣa or the craving. What is the attitude required to become free from this craving?

Develop contentment
Yallabhase nijakarmopāttaṃ vittaṃ tena vinodaya cittam. Yat vittaṃ labhase, whatever money that you get, nijakarmopāttam, earned as a result of your honest karma or effort, tena vinodaya cittam, makes your mind happy or cheerful. Here, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya is teaching us the value of santoña or contentment. This is called pratipakña bhāvanā in yoga śāstra. Pakña means standpoint. Pratipakña means an opposite standpoint or opposite point of view. In this, whenever a given point of view disturbs your mind, you replace it with the opposite point of view and thus calm the mind. For example, you get agitated or excited when you are angry. If you replace that anger by kindness or compassion for the person who is causing it, your anger will get diffused.

What is the standpoint that is opposed to tṛiṣa or craving or greed? Yallabhase nijakarmopāttaṃ vittaṃ tena vinodaya cittam. Satisfaction or contentment is the antidote for this craving. May you have contentment or santoña in your life. It is not said here that you stop acting or working, and be content with air or water. Do make the required effort, perform your duty, but be satisfied with
whatever results you get for your actions. Generally speaking, we are not satisfied with the reward that we get and, therefore, find ourselves running or chasing after wealth. So contentment is the pratipakña of tṛiṣa or craving. 

Contentment is important for spiritual growth
Whenever we talk of contentment, I am immediately asked the question, “Swamiji, if everybody is content, how will there be progress in our life? I will never exert myself if I am satisfied. I am inspired to do something only when there is discontentment.” It is perhaps true that as far as material progress is concerned, discontent will help. However, what we are seeking is true progress, an inner growth in life in which contentment has great value.

Contentment does not mean not acting. It does not mean remaining passive. It means being satisfied with the rewards of your action. If we are not contented, we will never be happy. When we are contented, at least we have an opportunity to enjoy what we have. I often tell the story of the poor man who went to see a saint and said, “Revered Sir, I do not have anything. Please show me how I can become rich.” “Alright. I will give you one million dollars if you give me your two eyes.” “I can’t do that.” “Ok, I will give you a million dollars for your arms.” “I can’t do that.” “What about a million dollars for your legs?”

“Sir, don’t be ridiculous.” In a few minutes, the saint showed the man that what he already had was worth a few million dollars! There is never any satisfaction in our lives. We think that we will make more progress if we have dissatisfaction, but while we may or may not make progress, we will always be miserable if we are dissatisfied. It is true that there may be a long list of what we do not have. However, if we were to make a list of what we do have, we will find that we have quite a lot of things also. This is satisfaction or santoña.

Let us learn to enjoy what we have
Contentment is not restricted to wealth. It applies to every other aspect of life in which dissatisfaction deprives you of the joy that you might otherwise have. Learn to enjoy what you have. If you find that you really need something, go ahead and work for it. Make sure, however, that it is a genuine need and not an imagined need. You don’t need to do what somebody else does. We are all influenced by the world or by the society. We don’t have to always follow the values that others follow. We should have our own priorities and our own values. In short, kuru sadbuddhiṃ manasi vitṛiṣām, may you make your mind free from tṛiṣām, the craving or the greed.

In the Kaṭhopaniñad, the eight-year old Nāciketas goes to Yamarāja, the Lord of Death. Yamarāja is so pleased with Nāciketas that he offers him three boons. As the first boon, Nāciketas asks for the welfare of his father. As the second boon, Nāciketas asks for the welfare of the society, and as the third boon, Nāciketas asks for the knowledge of the Self. Yamarāja is surprised at such a young boy asking for knowledge of the Self. Not knowing whether the boy knew the value of what he was asking for, he decides to test him. He offers him all sorts of attractive gifts in place of self-knowledge. He offers wealth, kingdoms, horses, elephants, gold etc. Nāciketas does not even consider the offer. Yamarāja then makes his offer more attractive. “I will give you all pleasures that are available only in the heavens and not to human beings. Come on, take them. Take these musicians, take this chariot. Take them all. ” Nāciketas is clear what he wants, and replies that a man can never be satisfied by wealth, “na vittena tarpaṇīyo manuñyaḥ” [Kaṭhopaniñad, 1-1-27]. It is true that regardless of how much wealth you offer, it can never satisfy man. Therefore, what is mentioned here is the tṛiṣa or craving. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya talks some more about wealth in ‘arthamanarthaṃ bhāvaya nityam’ [29]. We will see that later. The first line of this verse, ‘kuru sadbuddhiṃ manasi vitṛiṣām’ is important. May you entertain thoughts of sat, thoughts of Govinda. May you maintain the focus on the goal of life by giving up the tṛiṣa for artha, wealth. People say to me that they cannot worship God because he or she has so many other commitments. That is not really the obstacle. The obstacle is their order of priorities in life.

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Verse 3

Verse 3
The third verse points out another obstacle to the worship of Govinda. The human being’s infatuation or craving for kāma, sense gratification, is another obstacle to spiritual life.

नारीस्तनभरनाभीदेशं दृष्ट्वा मा गा मोहावेशम् ।मोहावेशम् |
एतन्मांसवसादिविकारं मनसि विचिन्तय वारं वारम् ॥वारम् ३॥
nārīstanabhara nābhīdeśaṃ dṛñṭvā māgāmohāveśam,
etanmāṃsāvasādi vikāraṃ manasi vicintaya vāraṃ vāram.

Do not fall prey to infatuation upon seeing a woman’s bosom or navel. These are nothing but the modification of flesh, etc. Deliberate on this repeatedly in your mind. 

Nārīstanabhara nābhīdeśaṃ dṛñṭvā māgāmohāveśam means do not fall prey to infatuation upon seeing the bosom or navel of a woman. This verse is addressed to both sexes. What should I do in order to make my mind free from this infatuation?

‘Etanmāṁsāvasādi vikāraṁ manasi vicintaya vāraṃ vāram’, may you dwell upon the truth that the object of infatuation is nothing but a bundle of flesh, bones, and marrow. It is beautifully packaged and, therefore, attractive. The pratipakña bhāvanā or opposite standpoint to one’s general view is provided here. Man does not think about what he is attracted to. He does not look beyond the superficial attribute of that which attracts him so much. It is the nature of the mind to superimpose on objects, a value that they do not have. We superimpose a veil of fascination or a veil of pleasantness over them and then desire them. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya, therefore, proposes a pratipakña bhāvanā.

Give up unnecessary preoccupations that distort priorities
Some people feel that there is a condemnation of money, pleasure etc. in these verses. We must keep in mind that there is no such condemnation here. There is only a condemnation of an unnecessary preoccupation with these things that leads to distraction and a waste of precious time, and a distortion of one’s priorities. These little things assume a great importance in our mind and take up our energy because we do not appreciate them for what they are. Whenever the mind is unduly distracted, the rule is to apply the pratipakña bhāvanā to release it from the disturbance.

Śrī Śaṅkarācārya does not recommend that you should suppress your feelings. Suppression will only result in a distortion of the mind. Sense gratification is a tremendous waste of energy that should be conserved and redirected towards something positive, towards one’s own self-development.

Etanmāṃsāvasādi vikāram. He proposes a harsh but realistic way to look at the realities of life. The human body towards which the mind is attracted is nothing but a vikāra, a modification of flesh and bones, a packet of filth that is well packaged. It certainly appears very attractive on the outside, but when we look at the content, it is nothing but filth. The second line says, manasi vicintaya vāraṃ vāram. Vicintaya means by deliberation. Vāram means repeatedly. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, may you contemplate the true nature of this attraction, vāraṁ vāram, over and over again. This pratipakña bhāvanā is a way of releasing the mind from the fascination with the human body.

Most of humanity pursues two of the four puruñārthas
Animals merely follow their instincts. If human beings also merely follow their instincts, they are not much different from animals. In this context it is said, ‘āhāra-nidrā-bhaya-maithunaṃ ca sāmānyam etat paśubhir-narāṇam.’ It means that human beings and animals have these things in common: āhāra, the need to appease hunger, nidrā, the need for sleep, bhaya, the need to protect oneself, and maithunam, the need for self-gratification. These are the natural instincts that are present in animals as well as human beings. Animals exhaust their lives in simply fulfilling these basic instincts. These are the values that are glorified today; a person who is intense about the fulfillment of these basic instincts is considered to be more successful than others. Here, however, we are saying that this is the life of animals.

Dharmo hi tesām adhi ko visesaḥ. Dharmena hīnaḥ pasubhis-samānaḥ. The human being has something that sets him apart from the animals. He has an intellect, a discriminative faculty, with which he can think and assign the place to these things that is justifiably theirs; no more and no less. Today, we see that all of humanity is exhausting itself in the pursuit of artha, security, and kāma, sense gratification. When they become the predominant impulses in life, dharma or the value for virtue is bound to suffer.

The Hindu scriptures talk about the four puruñārthas or ends that the human being seeks – dharma, artha, kāma, mokña. Dharma is righteousness. Artha is the pursuit of wealth and security. Kāma is the pursuit of sense pleasures. Mokña is the attainment of total freedom. Artha and kāma or the pursuit of security and sense gratification is natural. As long as this is based on dharma, it is alright. However, having the license to merely satisfy one’s impulses, man will adopt any means at his disposal to satisfy them. These two verses warn us against exactly that. May you seek to employ your energy for more profitable purposes rather than simply dissipate it through these channels.

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Verse 4

Verse 4
The fourth verse talks about the unsteadiness or unpredictability of life.

नलिनीदलगतजलमतितरलं तद्वज्जीवितमतिशयचपलम् ।
तद्वज्जीवितमतिशयचपलम् विद्धि व्याध्यभिमानग्रस्तं लोकं शोकहतं च समस्तम् ॥समस्तम् ४॥
nalinīdalagata jalamatitaralaṃ tadvajjīvitamatiśaya-capalam, viddhi
vyādhyabhimānagrastaṃ lokaṃ śokahataṃ ca samastam.

The life of a person is as unsteady as rain drops trembling on a lotus leaf. May you understand that the whole world remains a prey to disease, pride, and grief.

Tadvajjīvitamatiśayacapalam. Jīvitam means life, and capalam, unsteady. Atiśaya capalam is extremely unsteady. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya gives an excellent example here, to illustrate the unsteadiness of life. Nalinīdalagata jalamatitaralam. Nalinī is the lotus, dala means leaf, and jalam is a drop of water. Nalinīdalagata jalam is a drop of water resting on a lotus leaf. Atitaralam, how unsteady it is! Tadvat, in the same manner, our life also is extremely unsteady or extremely unpredictable.

Life is unsteady and unpredictable
A very important fact about human life and things that we generally take for granted is brought to our attention. Life is as unsteady and unpredictable as the droplet of water, which rests on the lotus leaf. Interestingly enough, this drop of water does not touch the leaf itself. It is therefore so unsteady that even the slightest breeze will cause it to slide off. Life departs in much the same way as the droplet, with the blowing of a breeze. We just do not know what the next moment is going to bring. It could be anything, a stroke, a heart condition, a cancer detected, or an accident. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya points out that we cannot take this life for granted.

People generally plan for the future. When the young are advised to read the Bhagavad Gītā, they commonly say that they will do it when they retire. However, the young man who takes up a job and gets married, goes ahead and buys an insurance policy. “Who knows what will happen to me? I am providing for my wife,” he says. The fellow understands that life is unpredictable; otherwise, a life insurance policy would not have any place in it. While on the one hand, life is unpredictable when it concerns security, on the other hand, when it comes to reading the Bhagavad Gītā, it is predictable. He expects to live long and decides that the time to study the Bhagavad Gītā is later. The complacency of the human mind is amazing. We take it for granted that we have a long time ahead of us, but we do not know when the ‘lub’ of the heart will not be followed by the ‘dub’. This clock is ticking away and nobody knows when it will stop ticking.

Unfortunately, in India, people never want to talk about death. It is considered inauspicious, aśubha. Vinobabhave, a saint, used to say that people want to close their eyes to death, like the deer does when it is chased by the tiger. The deer runs very hard, but the tiger is much more poweful and, ultimately, the deer gets tired. It knows that the end is coming near. It then buries its head in the earth because it does not want to face the reality of life. Similarly, we don’t want to talk about mortality and somehow avoid facing the reality of life as being unsteady and unpredictable. When it comes to such things, we think that everybody else’s life may be unpredictable, but we ourselves are fine. The mind just wants to avoid facing up to the facts of life.

Do not waste your time
In certain unsympathetic ways, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, life is atiśaya capalam. What does it mean? It means that there is no time to waste. Do not postpone what must be done, to the future. We procrastinate that which is unpleasant or difficult; when I start reading the Gītā, I get a headache and put it off for later; I start doing japa, my mind wanders and, again, I decide to do it later when I am free from worries and anxieties. However, it is when there are too many tensions and anxieties in life that you should do japa. It is meant to relieve us from the pressures that we ourselves unnecessarily create. While there may be some genuine reasons why we may have tensions, many are self created because we follow some wrong values or wrong priorities in life. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, be alert to this and start utilizing your time properly.

The time to start studying Vedanta as well as implement it in our lives is now. Vedanta talks about our life and tells us how to be happy. How can we postpone being happy to some time in the future? If we do, we do not understand the value of it. Therefore, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, start worshiping Govinda now.

Keep Govinda as your primary objective
The worship of Govinda could be in the temple by way of archana, or by way of prayer, or japa; all are necessary. At the same time, in performing all actions with the best of intentions, our lives also can be turned into a worship of Lord. Let this awareness be there in my mind.

In the Gītā [8-7], bhagavān says, “tasmātsarveñu kāleñu māmanusmara yudhya ca,” remember me all the time, and perform your duty. That is why japa or nāma smaranam, repetion in the mind, has great value. Repetition of a name is a constant reminder to us about our objectives. Whatever you do, always keep this as an objective. Do not have artha or kāma as an objective in your mind, may Govinda or mokña always be your objective. Life is very short even though we may think that we have 100 years to live. When Yamarāja offered long life to Nāciketas, he replied, “With reference to infinite time, whatever life you offer is bound to be limited.”

Oh Yama! All these ephemeral (things) weaken the power of all the sense organs of the mortal (human being). Moreover, every form of life is short only. Let all your vehicles, dance, and music be yours only [Kaṭhopaniñad, 1-1-26].

We have to remember that life is momentary and, therefore, the task that is before us requires all our attention and all our effort.

All other pursuits lead to disease, pride, and sorrow
The second line of this verse says, viddhi vyādhyabhimānagrastaṃ lokaṃ śokahataṃ ca samastam. Viddhi is may you further understand. Vyādhyabhimānagrastaṃ lokam means that this loka or the whole world is grastam or grasped, from the jaws of vyādhi, disease, and abhimānam, pride. Whatever life we do have is stricken by vyādhi and abhimānam, arrogance and conceit. At the level of the body, there is always some kind of disease present. The body is never completely healthy, though it may be healthy for periods of time. At the level of the mind, there is abhimānam or conceit. Therefore, the life that you are spending away in the pursuit of artha and kāma, only appears to bring you vyādhi and abhimānam.

Lokaṃ śokahataṃ ca samastam The world is śokahatam, afflicted by sorrow. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya points out that besides vyādhi and abhimānam, this is another thing that dominates our life. People are always under the spell of sorrow; this world is always grief-stricken. Therefore, what is it that you are working for or waiting for? Why does the bhajanam of Govinda not seem to find priority in life? If you think that there are pursuits in life more worthwhile than the worship of God, know that those pursuits only serve to bring pride, arrogance and disease, resulting in sorrow or sadness. Therefore, realize the true nature of life and utilize whatever time you have, properly.

Set proper priorities
In the Bhagavad Gītā [13-9], Lord Kṛṣṇa asks us to reflect constantly upon the fact that there is pain of different kinds all the time; in janma or birth, in mṛtyu or death, in jara, old age, and in vyādhi, disease, janma-mṛtyu-jarā-vyādhi-duḥkha-doñānu-darśanam. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, remember that there is only pain all along and, therefore, utilize whatever opportunity you have, for a worthwhile cause. Even elsewhere, in talking about life, he points out:

Day by day, a man comes nearer to death; his youth wears away; the day that is gone never returns; time, the almighty, swallows up everything [Śivāparādhakñamāpaṇa Stotram, 13].

Life is ebbing away with the passing of each day, pratidinam āyurnaśyati. Even as we watch, yauvanam or our youthfulness is also slowly getting exhausted. Pratyā-yānti gatāḥ punar-na divasāḥ, the days that have passed by, never return. Kālo jagad-bhakñakaḥ. Kāla or time devours the entire creation. What Śrī Śaṅkarācārya means is that we should keep in mind that time is constantly devouring our days, eroding our life, and we should, therefore, do what is necessary. In his teachings, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya always reiterates the importance of setting priorities in our life and utilizing our time properly.

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Verse 5

Verse 5
The nature of relationships and the attachment that people have to their families and friends is brought to our attention in this verse.

यावद्वित्तोपार्जनसक्त स्तावन्निजपरिवारो रक्तः ।
पश्चाज्जीवति जर्जरदेहे वार्तां कोऽपि न पृच्छति गेहे ॥ ५॥
yāvadvittopārjana saktaḥ stāvannija parivāro raktaḥ,
paścājjīvati jarjara dehe vārtāṁ ko’pi na pṛcchati gehe.

So long as a man is fit and able to support his family, see what affections all those around him show. But no one at home cares to even have a word with him when his body totters due to old age.

Man seeks security in relationships such as those of family, husband, wife, brothers, sisters or children, in the hope that they will always be with him. Those who sit all around you are called parivāra. Paritaḥ means to surround you. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya again points out a very crude fact of life here. You are so attached to your parivāra, your family, your friends and retinue, but only so long as you are capable of earning and making money, yāvad vitto pārjana saktaḥ, is this parivāra committed to you, tāvad nija parivāro raktaḥ.

Typically people respect what you have, not what you are
Śrī Śaṅkarācārya then goes on to say, paścājjīvati jarjara dehe. Paścāt is later on. Jarjara dehe, when you become old and infirm, and are no more capable of earning any money or commanding any respect, what happens to you? Vārtāṁ ko’pi na pṛcchati, nobody will ask after your welfare, gehe, even in your own home.

Today, you are receiving a lot of respect from people because you are capable of earning money. Here, money implies all potential; you may be a good musician, or lawyer, or even a svāmi for that matter, and you may talk, teach, and give good lectures. Whatever you may be, as long as you have this capability you find that people are committed to you, that people are attached to you. It is unfortunate that often, people respect me not for what I am, but for what I have. When they grow old, even very powerful people who dominated everybody in their lives find themselves ignored. Earlier, everybody would ask for advice, but now nobody wants to even stop and listen to them. That is why people who retire have a lot of problems once they lose the power they are accustomed to having. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says that this will happen to you one day.

These verses bring to our attention the facts that we prefer to ignore. Like the deer at the end of the chase, we turn our face away from these realities and like to think that everything is fine and wonderful. But then, that is not the case. Wealth begets respect from friends and family There is an old saying in Sanskrit, sarve guṇāḥ kānchanam āśrayante. The person who has kānchana, gold, is the best in the world. Anything he does is wonderful because he has wealth. Everybody praises him. People will remark upon how handsome he is or how he comes from a noble family, and see wonderful qualities in this person. However, when a person does not have any money, others see no value in him. If you are not smart and do not have the ability to earn money, nobody, not even your own family, will have value for you. Even within a family, if there are many sons, the one who earns the most money gets the best treatment. The fellow who gets the worst treatment is the one who does not make much money. The truth is that all the children are not equal even in the eyes of the parents. The one who earns the most money gets their respect or love. The others are supported, but they do not get respect.

There is an interesting story from Gujarat. It is about a poor man called Ramlal who would be derogatorily addressed by various names as he walked down the street. Once, it so happened that he bought a lottery ticket and, as luck would have it, hit the jackpot. He became a millionaire. After that, whenever he walked in the streets, people would salute him and call him ‘Rambhai’ in greeting. One day he was walking with a friend, when someone saluted him. To that, Ramlal muttered, “Ok, I will tell him.” Another person passed by and greeted him. Again Ramlal muttered, “Ok, I will tell him.” His friend then asked, “Why do you mutter, ‘I will tell him’?” In reply, Ramlal took his friend home. He went into an inner chamber and opened his vault. There was a lot of money in it. He told his friend, “Nobody salutes me. They are all saluting my money. So every evening I dutifully come here and tell this money who and how many saluted it.” As the story shows, it is a person’s wealth or a person’s power that receives the salute.

When he loses an election, even the President becomes an ordinary man, and nobody cares for him either. This is how it is. We might perhaps deceive ourselves into thinking that we enjoy a lot of respect and support from a lot of people, but in this world, relationships are always like this. You get something because you give something. When you are not capable of giving anything in return, a simple fact of life is that you will slowly also stop getting.

Depend on the Self for security
We don’t say that there is anything right or wrong about it. This is the way of the world and the nature of relationships. As the world becomes more materialistic, relationships are corrupted or polluted. Today, the equation has altered even in such a relationship as between husband and a wife. You cannot depend upon the parivāra any more for your security. “Swamiji, does this mean that I should have a separate bank account for my own security and not depend upon anybody?” We are not saying that. No bank account can give you any security. The only thing that can give you security is that which is discovered from your own Self.

Nothing in the world can give you security, because everything is so small and insignificant. You can only get a false sense of security from such things as power or wealth. As we are told in a later verse, even these can go away in a moment. You cannot seek security in the people who are around you or from the people who you think are dependable. The only place where you can seek security is within your own Self. Do not wait for a day when you are rejected by people. That day will surely come; be prepared for that. Therefore  seek security in yourself right now. Discover from within your own Self, an inner freedom or inner security so that you do not depend upon the acceptance of the people. That does not mean that you have to abandon friends or relatives or whatever you are now doing. Go ahead and live your life, but bear in mind that as far as security of life is concerned, you cannot depend on any of this.


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Verse 6

Verse 6
The sixth verse is somewhat similar to the earlier verse. It talks about the tremendous attraction or fascination that people have for their body. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya points out that the preoccupation with the body is another obstacle to attaining the goal of life.

यावत्पवनो निवसति देहे तावत्पृच्छति कुशलं गेहे । 
गतवति वायौ देहापाये भार्या बिभ्यति तस्मिन्काये ॥ ६॥
yāvatpavano nivasati dehe tāvatpṛcchati kuśalaṃ gehe,
gatavati vāyau dehāpāye bhāryā bibhyati tasminkāye.

When one is alive, his family members inquire kindly about his welfare. But when the soul departs from the body, even his wife runs away in fear of the corpse.

Yāvat means as long as, and pavana means air, breath or life. As long as there is life in the body, pṛcchati kuśalaṃ gehe, so long do your loved ones and others enquire after your welfare. You think that people love you; yes they do, but only as long as you are alive.

Gatavati vāyau, when this vāyu or life departs from the body, dehāpāye, the body slowly starts decaying. Then what happens? Bhāryā bibhyati tasminkāye.

Bhāryā means wife. Even the wife that loved the body so dearly is afraid of it. Once life is no more, the body, which has been an object of adoration and love of other people starts decaying or degenerating and becomes an object of fear and Contempt.

Use the body properly to worship Govinda
Again, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya brings to our attention the inevitable fact of life that a day will come, when life will depart from this body. The body has a place in our life. It is a means for the accomplishment or achievement of our goal, and to that extent, we should give it the importance that is its due, and care for it. However, there are people who spend their whole lives simply looking after the body, feeding, polishing, and decorating it; it is their preoccupation. The body is not everything in life. How long is this body going to remain an object of the love of others? Only until the day that life departs from the body, and then, no more will it attract anyone. In fact, it then becomes an object of dread.

The body may be kept preserved for a few days with the use of chemicals. However, in India, the body is not kept in the house for more than a few hours. Once the person dies, the next thing that they think of is cremation. That is where the body belongs. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya points out that there is love for a person only as long as the person is alive. The body is a means provided to you, and therefore, use it properly. Use it as an instrument for the worship of Govinda.

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Verse 7

Verse 7
Now we come to the seventh verse where, again, the life of a common man is recounted. There is a sense of regret at the way in which man spends his life, or squanders away the opportunity to achieve his goal.

बालस्तावत्क्रीडासक्तः तरुणस्तावत्तरुणीसक्तः । 
वृद्धस्तावच्चिन्तासक्तः परमे ब्रह्मणि कोऽपि न सक्तः ॥ ७॥ var परे
bālastāvatkrīḍāsaktaḥ taruṇastāvattaruṇīsaktaḥ,
vṛddhastāvaccintāsaktaḥ parame brahmaṇi ko’pi na saktaḥ.

The childhood slips away in attachment to playfulness. Youth passes away in attachment to women. Old age passes away worrying about many things. Alas, there is hardly anyone who wants to be lost in parabrahman.

Bālastāvatkrīḍāsaktaḥ. As a bālaḥ or child, he is engaged in sport and play. Childhood slips away in this. Taruṇastāvattaruṇīsaktaḥ. As a young man, his attention is totally taken up by the taruṇi or young woman. Youth also passes, thus, in the enjoyment of sensuous pleasures. Vṛddhastāvaccintāsaktaḥ. When the man becomes old, his mind is full of worries and anxieties. Parame brahmaṇi ko’pi na saktaḥ. Alas, at no stage of life is he parame brahamaṇi saktaḥ, devoted to the parabrahman, Govinda. People have time for all kinds of things, but not for Parambrahman.

We fail to think of the Lord at all stages of our life 
In one of his famous stotras, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya seeks the pardon of Lord Śiva for having failed to do what he should have done at every stage of his life. He says:

Even before I saw the light of this world, my sins from previous births, through which I passed because of desire for the fruit of my deeds, punished me as I lay in my mother’s womb. There I was boiled in the midst of unclean things. Who can describe the pain that afflicts the child in

its mother’s womb? Therefore, Oh Śiva! Oh Mahādeva! Oh Śambuḥ! Forgive me, I pray for my transgressions [Śivāparādhakñamāpaṇa Stotram, 1].

This aparādhaḥ, this fault of omission on my part, should be pardoned, kñantavyaḥ. There was a time when I was in the womb of my mother because of my past karma or actions. I could have worshiped you when I was there, Oh Lord, but I could not remember you because I was preoccupied with all the pain that I was going through. I was being tortured by the heat and the filth of that miserable place as I was growing. Jāṭharo jātavedāḥ, the stomach fire was scorching me all the time. The scriptures say that when the jīva is in the womb of the mother he is crying and praying to the Lord to release him from that prison, that hell. At that time, he promises that he will never forget to worship the Lord. “The only thing I could think of when I was in the womb of my mother was when I would be released from that. I did not think of you then, or even after I was born. Therefore, kñantavyo me’parādhaḥ.”

In childhood my suffering never came to an end. My body was covered with filth and I craved for my mother’s bosom. Over my body and limbs, I had no control. I was pursued by troublesome flies and mosquitoes. Day and night I cried with the pain of many an ailment, forgetting Thee, Oh Śaṅkara! Therefore, Oh Śiva! Oh Mahādeva! Oh Śambuḥ! Forgive me, I pray for my transgressions [Śivāparādhakñamāpaṇa Stotram, 2].

When I was bālaḥ, a small child, duḥkhātirekaḥ, I underwent all kinds of pain. Stanyapāne pipāsā, I suffered hunger and thirst. No śaktaścendriyebhyo bhavaguṇajanitāḥ jantavo māṃ tudanti, I was incapable, I could not move my hands and legs. 

Nānārogādi-duḥkhādrudanaparavaśaḥ, all kinds of rogās or diseases came to me one by one. Rudanaparavaśaḥ, it was a period of crying and weeping. I could not remember you, śaṅkaraṃ na smarāmi, because I was suffering from some pain or the other.

Oh Lord, as a young child I was suffering pangs of hunger and thirst, and feeling the pain of being bothered by all kinds of insects and all kinds of diseases. It was a period of sorrow and therefore, I could not pray to you or even think of you. Please forgive me, kśantavyo me ‘parädhaḥ.

In youth, the venomous snakes of sound and sight, of taste, touch, and smell, fastened upon my vitals and slew my discrimination. I was engrossed in the pleasures of wealth and sons and a youthful wife. Alas! My heart, bereft of the thought of Śiva, swelled with arrogance and pride.

Therefore, Oh Śiva! Oh Mahādeva! Oh Śambuḥ! Forgive me, I pray for my transgressions [Śivāparādhakñamāpaṇa Stotram, 3].

Prauḍho’haṃ yauvanastho, when I became a young man, viñaya-viñadharaiḥ païcabhir-marmasandhau dañṭo, all the various objects of this world and these five sense objects became like poisonous snakes and kept on stinging me. As a young man I experienced the various objects of the world through my sense organs.

They would enter through my five-fold organs of perception, and attack my mind. Just as when a snake stings we lose consciousness, so also, when the attraction of these objects stung my mind, nañṭo’vivekaḥ, my viveka or sense of discrimination was lost. I lost control over myself. How could I help it? It is you who have created this world of objects, as well this mind.

Suta-dhana-yuvati-svādu-saukhye niñaṇṇaḥ. I could only think of my suta, son or child, dhana, wealth, yuvati, woman, svādu, all kinds of taste, and saukhyam, all kinds of comforts. Mama hṛdayamaho mānagarvādhirūḍham, my heart was filled with māna and garvā, pride, honor, and arrogance. Therefore, Oh, Lord, śaivīcintāvihīnam, I had no time to think of you. My youth was wasted in this manner, and therefore, please forgive me, kñantavyo me’parādhaḥ.

Now in old age, my senses have lost the power of proper judging and acting. My body, though still not wholly bereft of life, is weak and senile from many afflictions, from sins and illnesses and bereavements. But even now my mind, instead of meditating on Śiva, runs after vain desires and hollow delusions. Therefore, Oh Śiva! Oh Mahādeva! Oh Śambuḥ! Forgive me, I pray for my transgressions [Śivāparādhakñamāpaṇa Stotram, 4].

Vārdhakye cendriyāṇām. Vārdhakye, when I became old, my body and my sense organs also grew weak. In my younger years, my mind was so powerful that it was not in my control. In my old age, my mind became so old and weak that I found that I could not make it do what I wished to do. I was suffering because of all my past misdeeds. There was only a sense of regret, a sense of hurt and guilt for all the wrongs I had committed, and the wrongs that were done to me. I could not think of anything else. There was viyoga, I was separated from my friends and others because I had grown old, and I was worried at what would happen to me and who would take care of me. Thus all the time, my mind was occupied with thinking and worrying, and filled with anxieties. Therefore, Oh, Lord, I could not worship you or think of you even in my old age. Please forgive me, kñantavyo me’parādhaḥ. In this manner, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya seeks the forgiveness of Lord in the Śivāparādhakñamāpaṇa Stotram.

We do not have the inner leisure for spiritual pursuits 
There is an account of how man spends his life in this verse as well. Bālastāvatkrīḍāsaktaḥ, as long as he is a little boy, all he can think of is play. Taruṇastāvattaruṇīsaktaḥ, as a youth he is preoccupied with the sensuous pleasures. Vṛddhastāvaccintāsaktaḥ, once he grows old, he has nothing else but cinta, worries and anxieties. Therefore, parame brahmaṇi ko’pi na saktaḥ, no one is to be found here, who is attached or committed to Brahman.

This is a beautiful observation so that we may reflect upon our priorities in life. Unfortunately, at no time in our life, do we seem to have viveka or discrimination. It requires a certain leisure of mind to think about life. At no time do we seem to have that leisure. It is said that people in India are so preoccupied with fulfilling their basic needs and necessities, that they have no time to think about life. When they come to the US and their needs are more than satisfied, you would presume that they have a lot of time here. On the contrary, it is people in India who seem to be able to manage their time better and attend to the requirements of a spiritual life also. People here in the US are not always able to do this. The mind is so tricky that it always finds some excuses. It always has some justification that there are more important things to do.

As Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, everybody is constantly busy worshiping something or the other whether as a child, a youth, or an old man. Therefore, bhajagovindaṃ bhajagovindaṃ govindaṃ bhajamūḍhamate. Lord Kṛṣṇa also says this in the Bhagavad Gītā:

I know all things that have gone before, that exist now and will exist in the future, Arjuna. But no one at all knows Me [Bhagavadgītā, 7-26]. Though we have time for everything else in the world, we have no time or leisure for our own Self. We can never be with ourselves. Parame brahmaṇi ko’pi na saktaḥ, no one is attached to parabrahma, to the Self, to Govinda. We are therefore told, bhajagovindaṃ bhajagovindaṃ govindaṃ bhajamūḍhamate. Remember why you have come here. Do not be diverted from your goal like the people were, in the story of the king and his distracted subjects that we discussed earlier.

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Verse 8

Verse 8
Now in the eighth verse, the ācārya addresses people who are totally engrossed in this worldly life.

का ते कान्ता कस्ते पुत्रः संसारोऽयमतीव विचित्रः ।
कस्य त्वं कः कुत आयातस्तत्त्वं चिन्तय तदिह भ्रातः ॥ ८॥
käte kāntā kaste putraḥ saṁsäro’yamatéva vicitraḥ,
kaḥ kutaṁ āyātaḥ tattvaṁ cintaya tadiha bhrātaḥ.

Who is your wife? Who is your son? Extremely strange is this saṃsāra. Who are you? Of whom are you? Where have you come from? Oh brother, may you dwell upon these truths. In the course of life, we are preoccupied with the ideas of our wife and children. This is either because we are totally infatuated with them due to strong attachment, or because of worry about our responsibilities, duties, and concerns regarding them. The teacher agrees that there is such a thing as a family, and all the relationships such as husband, wife, son or daughter are valid. Addressing the person who is totally attached to his wife or children, whose life centers around them to the exclusion of all else, he asks, ”What is the purpose of this family life? Is this relationship between a husband and wife merely meant for pleasure?”

Relationships help discover oneness
The man and woman come together in a particular association, but this is not restricted to seeking pleasures in life. In this alliance, each becomes a complement to the other. The relationship helps discover the inherent oneness and harmony that obtains between them in spite of their obvious duality at the level of the body, their individual personalities etc. This is meant to achieve another goal in life; the worship of Govinda.

Relationships are nothing but ‘roles’
Śrī Śaṅkarācārya asks, “Kāte kāntā kaste putraḥ”. Kāntā means wife. Kāte kāntā, who is your wife? Kaste putraḥ, who is your son? Who are they that you call wife or son? Being wife or son is only a role. Therefore, do not exhaust yourself in these attachments.

At the wedding ceremony the priest declared both of you as husband and wife, and you became husband and wife. This is called saṃskāra, an idea put in the mind. There is no entity called ‘husband’, or ‘wife’. That is a notion that you superimpose upon a person who has an independent existence. The roles are relative and only exist in our mind.

Relationships are transformations of one fundamental substance
The son was in the womb of the mother, before birth. Before that, he was there in your own body as an energy. Before that it was nothing but food, the plants and vegetables in the fields, which, even before that, was nothing but earth. What we call earth transformed into food, and later into energy in my body, and then became a fetus, a child in the mother’s womb. Therefore, when we look at the whole process of transformation, what we call wife, son and husband are nothing but transformations of a fundamental substance called the five elements. We should be aware of this truth.

We come together in relationships by chance
Each individual is on a journey. It is only by chance or fate that these people have presently come together in the relationship of husband, wife, son or daughter. There is a verse in Sanskrit which likens this coming together, to the journey of logs of wood along a stream. These pieces of wood come together and travel together for some time, and again separate. Similarly, in this life, these souls come together by a stroke of luck or stroke of fate, live together for a period of time, and again depart or separate to go their own way.

In India, the mahātmās always explain that the relationship among the members of the family is similar to that of passengers traveling together on a train journey of one or two days. In the course of that journey they share a particular compartment, talk to each other, share their food and develop friendships and affection. However, when their destinations arrive, one passenger after another departs. At that time, do we cry and weep because someone goes away? We do not, because we know that each has come from his own place and each will get down at his own destination. In the same way, every individual soul has his own journey to perform.

Remain free from attachment
The soul does not have any gender. Gender exists only at the level of the gross body. Within the gross body there is a subtle body, which is what we call the jīva. That subtle body travels from one gross body to another, from one life to another. In a given life, it has its own prārabdha, or fate. Therefore, he comes together with other people in the relationship of family and friends. He remains in that relationship for some time, and when the prārabdha is exhausted he goes his own way.

The institution of the family is an arrangement that we have accepted for harmonious living. Here, we are told about the kind of attitude we should have in our relationships as members of the family. We should realize that different members of the family are there only for a period of time. Therefore, let there be love, let there be charity, let there be compassion, and let there be service. Let this be the spirit obtained between the different members of the family.

As far as possible, remain free from attachment. We become so attached and become so dependent that we cannot do without the other members. As a result, when we are left alone by fate, we are unable to function. Relationships take away a lot of our time and energy. They also get polluted with all kinds of demands and attachments. So let there be a relationship of giving and of love, as much as possible, free from demands or attachments.

Don’t get entangled in relationships
Saṃsāraḥ ayam atīva vicitraḥ. What you call saṃsāraḥ is extremely strange, atīva vicitraḥ. We imagine this is real, but the reality is something that we have assigned to it. Children often play the game of make-believe and assume roles of parent and child, or teacher and student. We may laugh at them, but this game is a very serious business. Be aware that as grown-ups we are also playing similar games. How long can this game go on? It can endure only as long as the members playing the game decide to follow the rules. All these sets of relationships are atīva, very strange. Saṃsāraḥ ayam atīva vicitraḥ, they are merely a figment of our imagination.

Life has a greater purpose, beyond the performing of mundane functions. We get so entangled in the various relationships that we forget the purpose of our life. Each person is a seeker in search of his own individual ends. Therefore, bhajagovindaṃ bhajagovindam.

Kasya tvaṃ kaḥ kuta āyātaḥ. Kaḥ, who are you? Kasya tvam, to whom do you belong? The husband thinks that he belongs to the wife and vice versa. We cannot think beyond the relationships that seem to define our life. How long does this belonging go on? It exists only as long as you are together in this particular span of life. There are stories about this in the purāṇas, like the Mahābhārata. In one such story, a childless king performs a penance to the sages in order to beget a son. His wish is granted and a son is born. Unfortunately for the king, the son dies at the young age of six or seven years. He is left grieving and unable to overcome that pain. Sage Nārada happens to pass by and asks him what happened. “Why is my son taken away? I want him back.” “What will you do with him?” “I just want him back. That is all.” Sage Nārada invokes his powers and brings the son back to life. The king calls out, “Oh son, please come back to me”. The son asks, “Who is the son? Who is the father? Do you know how many lives I have passed through? I have been your son many times and you have been my son many times too!” This story provides a much wider perspective on life. Living within our little shells, we are entangled in our mesh of relationships. The teacher is addressing this deluded or distracted person.

Kuta āyātaḥ, where have you come from? What is the purpose of your life? Tattvaṃ cintaya tadiha bhrātaḥ. Brātaḥ is brother. Oh brother, he says, may you dwell upon or think of the tattvam or the truth, the reality of life. Ask yourself some fundamental questions. What is the purpose of life? Why am I joined or united with other members of my family? Why am I where I am? What exactly is the role that I have to perform? What is the destination that I have to reach? We don’t have the time to contemplate this because we are so preoccupied with our mundane duties of life. Koham, who am I? There is no time or opportunity to think about who I am. Kāte kāntā? Kaste putraḥ? May you think of that. Thus, focus your attention on the more essential aspects of life.

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Verse 9

Verse 9
We seem to be swept away by the current of life and in the process, lose our focus on the true goal. The ninth verse tells us how to maintain that focus. In a very short verse, the whole ladder of self-development or self-unfoldment is presented here by Śrī Śaṅkarācārya.

सत्सङ्गत्वे निस्सङ्गत्वं निस्सङ्गत्वे निर्मोहत्वम् ।
निर्मोहत्वम् निर्मोहत्वे निश्चलतत्त्वं निश्चलतत्त्वे जीवन्मुक्तिः ॥ ९॥
satsaṅgatve nissṅgatvaṃ nissaṅgatve nirmohatvam,
nirmohatve niścalatattvaṃ niścalatattve jīvanmuktiḥ.

Through the company of the wise or the good, there arises non-attachment; from non attachment comes freedom from delusion; where there is freedom from delusion, there is abidance in self-knowledge, which leads to freedom while alive.

Satsaṅgatve nissṅgatvam. Satām saṅgaḥ, satsaṅgaḥ. The saṅga or company of the wise, or of good people is called satsaṅgaḥ. The importance of satsaṅga is talked about thrice in this text because their company is extremely important.

Our mind often comes under the influence of our environment and it is necessary that we create a conducive environment that will have an agreeable influence on us.

Our mind requires a conducive environment to grow
The mind requires a suitable atmosphere to grow, in much the same way as a little plant does. As a sprout, it is very delicate and requires a lot of care and nurturing. It has to be provided the right fertilizer, manure, water etc. and also protection from animals. As it slowly grows it needs less and less care and when it is fully grown it is free and self-sufficient, and is then able to care for others. It is able to provide flowers, fruits, and shade. Before it acquires that kind of status, however, it begins as just a little sprout. Our mind is also like this sprout. It has to be taught and trained to follow certain values and priorities so that we get a proper perception of life.

Assimilating self-knowledge is difficult
As we listen to Vedanta, what arises first is an understanding at the level of the intellect. Speak the truth, follow dharma, satyaṃ vada, dharmaṃ cara [Taittirīyopaniñad, 1-11]. I begin to understand the importance of these values. I understand that this life is meant for the worship of Govinda and not meant to be squandered away in various pursuits. I understand that every pursuit should become the means for reaching the knowledge of Truth. We encounter a lot of

difficulties when it comes to putting this understanding into practice. There are difficulties within the mind itself such as our habitual problems, which come in the way. At the same time, the temptations of the outer world create a disturbance or distraction. The Kaṭhopaniñad says,

The self-existent (God) has rendered the senses (so) defective that they go outward, and hence man sees the external and not the internal self. Only a wise man desirous of immortality turns his eyes in, and beholds the inner ātman [Kaṭhopaniñad, 2-1-1].

Parāïci khāni vyatṛṇat svayambhūḥ, the Lord has made the sense organs and the mind extroverted. Tasmād parāṅpaśyati na antarātman, that is why man always looks outward and never into himself. In seeking pleasure or security, or a solution to his problems, he is drawn into the objects and situations of the world and never looks within himself. Kaścid dhīraḥ, the wise discriminating person, pratyagātmānam aikñat, who wants to see the self, āvṛttacakñuḥ, withdraws his attention from the preoccupation with the pursuits of the world.

Amṛtatvamicchan means he desires amṛtatvam, or immortality. In withdrawing his wordly attentiveness, he does not become isolated. His relationship with the world simply changes. It is now not one of exploiting, but one of giving. It is a relationship of worship. He becomes an introverted person, meaning he acquires an abiding mind. Then alone is it possible to dwell upon this fundamental question of life.

Satsaṅga is important for assimilation
Satsaṅgaḥ, or the company of those who are good and have wisdom and insight exerts a positive influence upon us. We need an inspiring atmosphere in order to maintain our enthusiasm in a conducive and positive manner. Saint Tulsidas compared the mind to a beautiful garden of plants and fruits. The mind is a garden in which we hope to cultivate good attitudes and thoughts. This garden has a protective fence around it but there are five gaps in the fence through which animals may enter and destroy it. The five openings are the five organs of perception: the eyes, the ears, and the faculties of taste, touch, and smell. The influence of a myriad fascinating objects enters through these sense organs as we interact with the external world. This can become so compelling that whatever little good thinking we have developed, can be easily overpowered.

For example, when people attend classes and public discourses some inspiring values and ideas are generated in their mind. However, even as they go out, they come across some friend who asks them what they were listening to. “Swamiji said God is all powerful, omniscient etc.” “Who is this God? Has your Swamiji seen God? Where is God? If there is a God, why would the world be like this?” In ten minutes, the friend manages to shake up the śraddhā of this person despite his listening to the discourse for one and half hours! We are very gullible and can be easily influenced both ways. It is therefore necessary to choose our company carefully because a bad company will definitely have a bad influence on us.

The influence of satsaṅga can completely change a person. Ashrams, gurukulams, temples etc. provide a suitable atmosphere and conducive environment that have a good influence on us. It is true that we are all born with our own peculiarities and saṃskāras or personalities, yet, both the place where we are born and the company that we keep have a tremendous influence upon us.

The mind should be carefully nurtured in satsaṅga
There is no better satsaṅga than the direct exposure to the teaching. An indirect exposure to the scriptures such as listening to tapes, studying the books or participating in a study group are also valuable and provide ways to be in company of like-minded people. That is how a new family grows, one that entertains the same kind of values and respects and reveres the same kind of scriptures, and one in which our śraddhā is slowly enhanced. The most important strength that we have is śraddhā, faith in the scriptures, faith in the wise, faith in the Lord, and faith in ourselves. This is the most important thing. At any cost, we must avoid the company of the bad and the company of non-believers or those who can shake our śraddhā. We should avoid discussion with others; there is no need for you to go around convincing others, or preaching to them. More often than not, they will convince you otherwise. What is necessary is that we must grow and realize how important this self-growth is.

The mind is very delicate and is like a fine instrument that must be treated with care. Therefore, be careful about what you are exposed to. We should keep ourselves away from undesirable influences, not only people, but even certain television shows, literature etc. I have nothing against them, but it is best to stay away from that which influences the mind in an unfavorable way. Be careful about what you read, the thoughts that you entertain, and the kind of things you do. Even your social company should become some sort of spiritual gathering in some ways, and become a means for self-growth. Thus, company at different levels is very important.

Satsaṅga creates detachment
Satsaṅgatve nissṅgatvam. Saṅga means company or attachment. Nissṅgatvam is detachment or non-attachment. What does satsaṅga do? It creates nissṅgatvam, the lack of attachment. Where there is attachment with the good, there is a detachment from the bad. Thus, when I keep the company of the good, I slowly grow out of the influence of the bad. We always hear in Vedanta that we should give up attachment, but what is attachment? Attachment is dependence upon the world. Very often, people think that giving up attachment means giving up contact with the family, or running away from the world. In fact, you cannot run away from the world because it is present everywhere in some form or the other. Therefore, it is not the physical objects of the world, but your dependence on them that has to be given up. 

To have love for your family, your wife or children, is not attachment. We should be able to discriminate between love and attachment. Love is something we should always have; attachment is that which pollutes this love. People mistakenly interpret detachment as being an aversion to the sense objects or to the world. The teachers do not ask not to have any contact with the world. The world is meant for our enjoyment. They are only teaching us how to enjoy things. Enjoyment is having a relationship which is free from either dependence or demand, either attachment or aversion. Aversion is but a distorted form of attachment. Therefore, attachment and aversion, rāga and dveña, are the two sides of the same coin. Both represent bondage and dependence. They lead to an unhealthy relationship in which I lose my objectivity to the situations of the world; I allow my happiness to be determined by the situations and objects around me.

In being attached, I superimpose a greater value on something than it has, and in having aversion, I see less value in it than it deserves. Thus, when it is said that we should become free from attachment, it also means that we should seek to become free from aversion. It is satsaṅga, the company of the good, that enables us to slowly become free from both attachment and aversion. 

Becoming more objective is detachment 
We do not really see the world as it is. We interpret it in the light of our own notions and superimpositions. In not being able to appreciate the thing for what it is, we find ourselves attracted to something or repelled by something else. What is meant by satsaṅgatve nissṅgatvam is that in the company of the wise, I slowly become objective. I learn to develop an objective perception of the world and deal with the realities of life, rather than living in a world defined by how I see it. For example, when I call something mine, or say that it is yours, it is

purely a notion in my mind. When I call something good or bad, or beautiful or ugly, it is, again, because of a certain notion in my mind. These notions are entirely subjective for the very simple reason that what to me is beautiful may seem ugly to another, or what I think is delicious may not appear so to another person. Then again, even these notions are not constant because we are as though riding a fence in the mind all the time. Our whims are so fanciful that what appears to be appealing or beautiful today, may not seem so desirable the very next day and the mind does not want it anymore.

In satsaṅga, we are not only in the physical company of the wise, but also learn from their words and their actions. We see how they conduct themselves, how they relate to people and situations, and how they are able to remain free from reactions. We see that they are able to maintain their composure in various situations and realize that it is really the way of their life. This is how we also slowly develop a composure of the mind and a freedom from the reactions of likes and dislikes. This is satsaṅgatve nissṅgatvam.

Detachment purifies the mind
Nissaṅgatve nirmohatvam. As the mind becomes clear, it slowly becomes free from moha or delusion. A deluded mind superimposes an unjustified value upon the things of the world. As the mind slowly becomes free from this moha it becomes free from rāga and dveña. This is called purification of the mind. What is meant by purification of the mind? When do I know that my mind is pure?

Rāga-dveñas or attachments and aversions are the impurities of the mind. A mind under the influence of rāga-dveñas is a reactive mind. When something confirms my attachment I get elated and when something contradicts it I get depressed. Elation is the product of rāga and depression is the product of dveña. While I cannot see my rāga-dveñas directly, when I find myself reacting I can see the product of these rāga-dveñas. These reactions could be anger, greed, resentment, repression, sadness etc. A reactive mind is an impure mind. As my mind becomes free from these reactions, I know that my mind is pure. To the extent that the mind is free from rāga-dveñas, it is pure. To the extent that the mind is pure, it enjoys peace, serenity, and composure, and to the extent that the mind is composed, it enjoys balance or equipoise. Just as water becomes transparent and pure when you remove the dirt from it, so also, as the rāga-dveñas are removed from the mind, it becomes pure and serene, and we enjoy tranquility of the mind.

A pure mind can understand the Truth
Nirmohatve niścalatattvam. When the mind becomes tranquil, it becomes objective. It is then able to understand the purport of the scriptures. Until then, whatever we hear is processed by a mind which is distorted by rāga-dveñas. When those distortions are not there, the mind is able to truly appreciate the unfoldment of the vision of the scriptures. When the saṅga, or rāga-dveñas go, the moha or delusion goes; when the delusion goes, the mind is able to understand clearly what the scriptures reveal. That is how the knowledge takes place and one slowly gains an abidance in that knowledge.

Understanding the Truth leads to liberation while living
Niścalatattve jīvanmuktiḥ. When this abidance in the knowledge happens, there is freedom even while one is alive. This is the growth that the scriptures present before us, the goal presented by Vedanta. The goal is jīvanmuktiḥ, becoming free even when we are in this body. It is not the mukti or liberation after death, but the liberation or the freedom even while I am here. Vedanta says very clearly that liberation or freedom has to come even when I am alive. Then alone can I be liberated after this body falls. It is satsaṅgaḥ, the company of the wise or the company of the good, which ultimately leads to jīvanmuktiḥ. A tree does not require any water or manure; it is free and itself a source of shade, flowers, and fruits. Similarly, the jivanmukta does not require anything. He becomes a source of love and inspiration for others.

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Verse 10

Verse 10
Some questions are asked in the tenth verse, showing us the relationship between cause and effect.

वयसि गते कः कामविकारः शुष्के नीरे कः कासारः ।
क्षीणे वित्ते कः परिवारः ज्ञाते तत्त्वे कः संसारः ॥ १०॥
vayasigate kaḥ kāmavikāraḥ śuñke nīre kaḥ kāsāraḥ,
kñīṇevitte kaḥ parivāraḥ jïāte tattve kaḥ saṃsāraḥ.

What good is lust when youth has fled? Where is the lake when the water has dried up? Where is the retinue when the wealth is gone? When the Truth is realized, where is saṃsāra?

When we remove the cause, the effect goes away 
Vayasigate kaḥ kāmavikāraḥ. Vayas is age, and vayasigate means the passage of youth. Kāmavikāraḥ is the expression of lust in the human body. How can there be an expression of lust in the body when youthfulness is no more? There cannot be lust when youthfulness is spent because youthfulness is a cause, and the expression of lust, an effect. The idea is that when the cause is gone, the effect cannot remain.

Śuñke nīre kaḥ kāsāraḥ. Kāsāraḥ is a body of water, a pond or a lake. We call it a pond or lake only when it is filled with water. When the water has dried up, śuñke nīre, where is the pond or the lake, kaḥ kāsāraḥ? You can see this happen in India where, in the heat of summer, the water in the rivers and lakes is reduced to a trickle. The Sābarmati, for instance, is a flowing river only for a couple of months in the year. At other times, there is no water in that river.

Kṣīṇevitte kaḥ parivāraḥ. Vitta is wealth. Kṣīṇevitte, after the wealth is exhausted, kaḥ parivāraḥ, where is the family or retinue? There are people around you only when you have something to offer them or when they have something to gain from you. When your wealth is no more, where are the followers? Wealth here means money or power, position, or some skill. Only as long as these things are there will people look up to you or follow you. When the cause is no more, the effect is no longer there as well.

Once, when my eyes were closed, I was bitten by an ant. I brushed it away. There came another ant, and then another. I opened my eyes and saw that there was a whole line of ants. I swept them away. After a while I saw that they had come back and I swept them away again. Soon the ants returned and I had to sweep them away yet again. When this had happened a few times, I examined why the ants were coming and found some small sugar crystals lying on the ground. The ants were coming there to get them. I then removed the sugar cystals and the ants went away. What we have to learn from this is that if you remove the cause the effect goes away by itself.

Anger is an effect
Very often people ask me how they can get rid of anger. Most people know that anger hurts them, and they take a vow that they will not get angry anymore, except that anger comes anyway. You try to sweep away anger by changing the situation or doing something temporarily, but some other situation is created, and anger comes. Pujya Swami Dayanandaji tells the story of someone who came to him and said, “Swamiji, I have given up anger. I have not been angry at all for the past four months.” Swamiji told him, “Well, it is just a matter of situation. Maybe a situation has not arisen that would make you angry.” “No Swamiji, I have given up anger.” “No, no. I am sure that a situation has not been created to make you angry.” “Swamiji, I have not gotten angry,” he bangs on the table. Swamiji tells him, “No, but I am telling you that it is just a matter of the situation being created.” And the person gets angry. Anger waits to come out. All that it calls for is a certain situation. This is a typical example of how the effect cannot be removed when the cause is not removed.

Binding desires and demands lead to anger
Our attempts to get rid of anger are not successful because anger is a symptom or an effect, and has a cause. Arjuna asked Lord Kṛṣṇa, “What is it that makes me sin or make me do things that are unbecoming of me?” Lord Kṛṣṇa says, “kāma eña krodha eña [Bhagavadgītā, 3-37].” It is kāma, or strong desire, that becomes anger. Why do I get angry? It is because some of mine has not been fulfilled. Therefore, anger invariably springs from some desire or some demand. We are very demanding people and we demand things from the whole world. We demand a certain behavior from our family, friends, and everybody around. We demand that they act in a certain way, talk in a certain way etc. At the moment that my demand is not fulfilled, I get angry. The more demanding a person I am, and the stronger the demands I make, the more likely it is that I am going to be angry. Anger springs from strong desires and demands.

To get rid of anger, become less demanding
Every time that you have been angry, sit quietly when the anger has gone away and ask yourself this question, “Is it necessary for me to maintain that demand or hang on to that demand, or can I give up that demand?” If you can give up the demand, one cause of anger is given up. I want people and situations to function according to my requirement. As I learn to accept the world as it is, and as I gradually become less demanding, the occasions for anger will also be fewer. Thus, the effect can go only when the cause goes. If the cause remains, the effect will spring up some time or the other. As the rains come, the grass and the weeds start growing because the seeds are there in their potential form. When they get an opportunity, they sprout. Remove the seed and the sprout goes away. This verse tells us how to deal with the effect by eliminating the cause.

Saṃsāra arises out of self non-acceptance
Jïāte tattve kaḥ saṃsāraḥ. This is the most important segment of the verse. We are all interested in becoming free from saṃsāraḥ. What is saṃsāra? Samyak sarati asmin iti saṃsāraḥ. The word saṃsāra is made up of sam and sāra. The word sāra is derived from sṛ, to move. Sarati is the one who moves. Sam comes from samyak, meaning constant. Saṃsāraḥ is samyak sāra, that in which there is constant movement. What kind of motion is this? It is motion from one birth to another, from one situation to another, one accomplishment to another, and one becoming to another. Man is always trying to become something. This life of becoming is called saṃsāraḥ.

The problem of saṃsāra is the constant sense of self-rejection or self non acceptance. There is a constant current of self non-acceptance in me. I am not satisfied with the way I am now. On the one hand I do not accept myself as I am, and on the other, I cannot tolerate this self non-acceptance either. Therefore, there is an immediate impulse or urge to become acceptable to myself. Thus arises an effort or action on my part to become acceptable; a poor man wants to

become rich, a weak man wants to become strong, a strong man wants to become stronger, a man who is not educated wants to get educated, a man in the east wants to go to the west, and so on. Every man or woman wants to become something, and this need reflects the dissatisfaction with one’s present state.

Thus, the fundamental problem of the human being is his constant dissatisfaction with himself. Animals do not have this problem. A cow with a twisted set of horns does not seem to be jealous of the cow with shapely horns. Why does this complex arise in the human being? It arises out of self non acceptance. Animals are called vimuktāḥ, liberated. They are ever free from all these complexes. We torture ourselves because of our various complexes, most of which result in self-rejection. In fact, there is a constant battle going on within us; we don’t require a battle outside. That is saṃsāraḥ.

Self non-acceptance arises out of ignorance
What is this freedom from saṃsāraḥ that we seek? It is nothing but freedom from this sense of self non-acceptance or self-rejection, freedom from the need to become something. In reality, the only freedom that we have to acquire is inner freedom, a freedom from the compulsion within, that I must change. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, jïāte tattve kaḥ saṃsāraḥ. When the tattva or truth is known, where is the saṃsāra? What is this truth? It is the truth of the Self. It means that my self non-acceptance or self-rejection is there because I do not know the truth of myself. It is not only ignorance, but a false notion or a misconception about my own self that brings this about.

There is no reason why I should not like myself, but I do not. That is why I expect the world to love me. There is a need that the world should honor me because I do not honor myself, a need that the world should say that I am alright and accept me because I do not accept myself. It is one thing that the world honors me, but quite another, that there is a need that the world should honor me. That need is called saṃsāra. That is why, generally, all the needs are nothing but expressions of self non-acceptance. Desire represents saṃsāra because avidyā-kāma-karma, ignorance leads to desire, which leads to action. There is nothing wrong with desire. Vedanta is not against desire. However, the desire represents self non-acceptance, and is the cause of saṃsāra. Where does it arise from? It arises from an ignorance of my own self, a self-ignorance that results in self non acceptance.

Self-knowledge is distinguishing between the Person and the Personality
I do not know who I am. Am I this body? If I am, I can never become an acceptable self because this body can never fulfill my expectations regardless of what I do with it. Am I this mind? This mind is also limited equipment and I can never be fully satisfied with this mind either. Am I, then, this intellect? This intellect is also a limited entity, and therefore, I can never be satisfied even with this intellect. I am never fully satisfied with my knowledge, with my wisdom, or with my understanding. Therefore, as long as I take myself to be this body or upādhi, I can only see myself as a limited being suffering from all kinds of limitations and deficiencies.

You are different from this upādhi; the body is your dwelling and the mind and sense organs are the various instruments with which you perform different tasks. You are essentially the witness of all this. The body, the sense organs, and the mind form a personality comparable to the costume that an actor wears. Just as an actor is different from the costume, so also, the person wearing this personality is different from it. It is aviveka or non-discrimination that associates the person with the personality. The personality is always limited, and when I see myself from the standpoint of the personality I can only be a limited being.

Jïāte tattve. What is the tattva or truth of my Self? The truth is that I am a a person, a conscious being without any attributes, strengths or limitations attached, simple, pure, and beautiful. When can that truth be known? Nirmohatve niścalatattvam, the truth can be known only when the mind is free from rāga-dveñas and has the clear perception that enables it to see the truth. This clarity comes as a result of worship of God, and therefore, the worship of God becomes a means for gaining the knowledge of the Self.

Self-knowledge leads to self-acceptance
Self non-acceptance comes about because I have a misapprehension about myself as being limited in every way. Jïāte tattve, when I see the truth of myself as a whole and complete being, this self non-acceptance or self-rejection remains no more. There is, instead, a total self-acceptance. I then abide in myself. When I am happy with myself, I find myself happy with everyone else. When I find myself rejecting things in the outer world, I must know that it is a result of a rejection of myself, a discomfort with myself. That discomfort with myself goes when I discover my own beauty.

When the tattva or truth of life is known, where is saṃsāra? Where is this life of birth and death? Where is the struggle of this life of becoming? Where is that compulsion of self non-acceptance? Those conflicts are no more. Thus, to become free from saṃsāra, you should eliminate ignorance, the cause of saṃsāra. When the ignorance is gone, saṃsāra can no longer be there. The Upaniñads declare that you already are that which you are trying to be. As the 10th man is told, you already are the 10th man. The fullness which you are seeking is your very own nature.

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Verse 11

Verse 11
In verse 11, the teacher again points out the proper order of priorities in our life. He talks of becoming free from false pride and deceit.

मा कुरु धनजनयौवनगर्वं हरति निमेषात्कालः सर्वम् ।
सर्वम् मायामयमिदमखिलं हित्वा var बुध्वा ब्रह्मपदं त्वं प्रविश विदित्वा ॥ ११॥
mā kuru dhana jana yauvana garvaṃ harati nimeñātkālaḥ sarvam,
māyāmayamidamakhilaṃ hitvā brahmapadaṃ tvaṃ praviśa viditvā.

Do not take pride in wealth, friends, and youth. Time takes away all these in the blink of an eye. Free yourself from the illusion of the world of māyā and may you know the abode of Brahman and enter it. 

Mā kuru dhana jana yauvana garvam, do not take pride in dhana jana yauvana. Garva is pride. Jana means people and yauvana is youthfulness. Dhana is wealth or possessions. Dhana includes power, position, name, and fame. Do not have pride that you have followers, or that you command the respect of people or control some people. Do not take pride in your youth. Do not have any pride in your life because these things are not yours.

Wealth is fleeting
I can be proud only of something that I have created or something that I own, or control. I have not created either this jana or yauvana. I cannot claim even dhana or wealth as mine. It is only by chance that the wealth is with me. Elsewhere, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya describes the fleeting nature of wealth. He says that wealth is as unstable or unpredictable as a bubble or a wave in the water, lakñmīstoyataraṅgabhaṅgacapalā [Śivāparādhakñamāpaṇa Stotram, 13]. Wealth can never be yours. Dhanam or Lakñmī is the consort of Lord Nārāyaṇa. As Swami Dayanandaji always says, if Lakñmī devī comes to your home and you want to claim possession or ownership of her, naturally, Lord Nārāyaṇa cannot tolerate it. You never know when he will ask Lakñmī devī to go away with him! Therefore, you can lose her in a moment.

Our earning power has been given to us
There is no reason to take pride in having wealth. How is it that I have wealth? I have either inherited it or earned it. If I have earned wealth, it is because I possess certain abilities by God’s grace. These abilities or skills that I possess because of which I am a wealthy man are not something that I have created. We know very well that we have not created this body; it is a gift given to me. Along with the body, all the intelligence and knowledge and skill that I have are also given to me. Whatever I possess is a gift. This is because when I was born, I had nothing and was totally ignorant. In the course of these years so many teachers and so many other people have actually worked hard in order to impart this knowledge and skills to me. Now, I feel that I possess this knowledge and claim to be smart or intelligent or skillful. I claim to be an engineer, a doctor or a lawyer and when I earn money on the strength of that knowledge, I think that the money also is my private property.

We have been ‘favored’
Lord Kṛṣṇa says that there is no private property at all. Even your own body is not personal property. He says the one who enjoys objects given by the gods without offering to them in return is indeed a thief, tairdattānapradāyaibhyo yo bhuṅkte stena eva saḥ [Bhagavadgītā, 3-12]. All the favor is constantly done to you. It is on account of this favor alone that you are what you are and enjoy this whole universe. If you do not acknowledge that favor, and consume everything that comes to you thinking that it is on account of your own personal effort, you are a thief. I have to appreciate the amount of favor that I have received from the whole universe. That is why they talk of ṛñi ṛṇa, our debts to the sages, pitṛ ṛṇa, our debts to our forefathers, and deva ṛṇa, our debts to the gods.

We are indebted to the sages, to our ancestors, and to the gods 
Ṛñi ṛṇa is our debt to the ṛñis, the sages and thinkers, because they have dedicated their whole life to the pursuit of knowledge and made this vast storehouse of knowledge available to us. We draw from this freely, and then call ourselves very knowledgeable people. Pitṛ ṛṇa is our debt to our parents and ancestors for having given us the gift of this body, and for having raised it and nourished it. Deva ṛṇa is our debt to the many devatās, meaning cosmic forces, which are constantly functioning in order to support us. The sun, the moon, the earth, the fire and the waters, all these elements are working constantly in order to support us. Without their favor, we could not survive or even exist. Therefore, we must realize that all these factors are constantly contributing to make our life what it is. 

You cannot lay claim to your wealth, youth, or power
Pujya Swami Dayanandaji says, you cannot even claim the body that you possess to be your own because so many have claims over it. The wife has a claim on this body, as do the parents, the children, the employer, and even the state. Even the bacteria in your stomach have a claim over your body! Of course, the vultures which are flying over there are waiting for our body to drop off. Therefore, when we really think about the realities of life, there can be only humility and no pride. You cannot lay claim to your wealth or youth or power.

Enjoy what you have without any pride
Harati nimeñātkālaḥ sarvam. Kālaḥ is time, or death. Nimeṣāt means at the blink of an eye. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, time or death can rob us of everything in a mere moment. A great scholar loses his memory in an accident and becomes a vegetable. A young and active person is suddenly discovered to have a tumor in his brain and, by the time he goes in for surgery, loses many of his faculties. You never know what will happen the next moment. Therefore, enjoy what you have. It is not that you have to become a fatalist or pessimist, or be afraid of the future. Only, enjoy what you have in the present without any pride. Have humility and recognize the contribution of so many other elements to what you think is yours.

Worldly objects cannot offer security or happiness
Māyāmayamidamakhilaṃ hitvā. Pride deprives me of a realistic or objective perception of life. I am not able to appreciate the world for what it is. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, māyāmayam idam, may you realize that all of this creation is māyāmayam, a product of māyā. The word māyā actually means magic. It is like a magician who, with his power of magic, creates a world which is really not there. For instance, he takes a piece of newspaper and turns it into a $100 bill. He produces an apple out of thin air. Do not think that you can appease your hunger with that apple, or buy something with that $100 bill. They are there, but not really there. The idea is that though they seem real enough, they do not have real content in them. So also, none of the things that appear to offer you security and happiness can ever do so.

The dhana, jana, and yauvana which you think are real and will always remain with you do not possess that which you seek. The objects of this world manifest happiness like a brass object that shines like a piece of gold, or a piece of mirrored glass that may shine like a diamond. Just as this glitter does not mean that the objects are what they appear to be, so also, the glitter of security and happiness etc. in the objects of the world is not real.

Renunciation is a certain attitude towards the worldly objects
Idam māyāmayam akhilaṃ hitvā. Realize that happiness is not to be found in any of this and renounce it. In Vedanta, renunciation is not an action; it is a state of mind, a certain attitude towards the things of the world. In renouncing, I do not do something or discard something outwardly. When I give up something and yet feel its loss, it only means that I have not really given it up inwardly. Therefore, while we recognize that the world and all its achievements are there and have a certain value, what we call renunciation is nothing but seeing it for what it is and knowing the true worth of things.

Worldly objects can solve only certain problems
As we saw earlier, there are two kinds of problems in life. One is centered upon the self and relates to the subject. The other is centered upon the non-self and relates to the objects around us. For instance, the problems of hunger, poverty, or illiteracy are centered upon the object or the non-self. You need the object, wealth, in order to solve these problems. However, the problems of sadness or sorrow, fear, inadequacy or incompleteness, limitation, or bondage are centered upon the self. We cannot find solutions to these problems in the non-self. Thus, we should understand the nature of the problem and apply solutions that are appropriate to those problems. The recital of the Bhaja Govindam will not remove illiteracy or poverty; it will not appease the hunger in my stomach either. The appropriate solution for hunger is to eat food. If I am suffering from a disease, I have to take medicine. We can see that the solution to the various problems centered upon the non-self lies only in the non-self itself. Therefore, what we call the world, and perceive as its objects, is definitely useful and required for solving those problems.

However, the worldly objects can’t solve problems centered on the Self
Unfortunately, we look to the world for a solution to problems that pertain to the self, such as sadness, fear, or insecurity. These cannot be solved by the objects of the world. Recognizing this fact is renunciation. Renunciation is recognizing things for what they are, accepting that everything has a certain degree of reality or usefulness, and assigning them that degree of reality. As we have already been told, the solution to the problems of the self lies only in the knowledge of the self, jïāte tattve kaḥ saṃsāraḥ.

Self non-acceptance can be solved only by Self-knowledge
Brahmapadaṃ tvaṃ praviśa viditvā. Viditvā is known. Having known the truth about yourself, tvaṃ brahmapadaṃ praviśa, may you enter the abode of Brahman. I can enter the abode of Brahman only when I have renounced the world. This renunciation happens when I understand that the fundamental problem of self non-acceptance, the sense of inadequacy or bondage etc. can be solved only by the knowledge of the Self, and cease to look to the world for solving these problems. Two important facts have to be known: brahma satyam, and jagat mithyā. Upon having discovered the mithyātvam of the jagat, your mind will be free from any distractions, and then you will be able to focus your attention upon the knowledge of the Self. Thus, we are told, focus your attention upon the knowledge of yourself and abide in that truth or knowledge.

These verses are uttered one after the other, and each touches a different aspect of our life. However, we do not see any particular train of thought being followed here because each verse seems to go off in a different direction. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya was addressing the old pundit, but he must have been looking around and seeing other people as well, with their own problems. Perhaps he is addressing different people in each of these verses.

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Verse 12

Verse 12
In the 12th verse, we find that he is drawing our attention to the play of time.

दिनयामिन्यौ सायं प्रातः शिशिरवसन्तौ पुनरायातः ।
कालः क्रीडति गच्छत्यायु-गच्छत्यायु स्तदपि न मुञ्चत्याशावायुः ॥ १२॥
dinayāminyau sāyaṃ prātaḥ śiśiravasantau punarāyātaḥ,
kālaḥ krīḍati gacchatyāyuḥ tadapi na muïcatyāśāvāyuḥ.

Day and night, dusk and dawn, winter and spring come and go again. Time sports and life ebbs away, and yet the gust of desire never leaves (us). Dina means day, and yāmini means night. Dinayāminyau is in the dual, meaning day and night. Sāyam is evening, prātaḥ is morning, śiśira is winter, and vasanta is spring. Punarāyātaḥ means they come again and again. A very beautiful picture of time is portrayed here. Referring to the inexorable passage of time, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, kālaḥ krīḍati, time is constantly sporting. The wheel of time is constantly moving ahead and waits for no one. Signifying the passage of time, the cycles of day and night, morning and evening, and spring and winter come and go over and over again. Gacchatyāyuḥ, life ebbs away. The inevitable truth of life is that with the passage of time, life is also slowly ebbing. Tadapi na muïcatyāśāvāyuḥ. Aśāvāyuḥ is the gust of desire. The problem is that even as life is slipping away, the āśāvāyuḥ or gust of desire, tadapi na muïcati, does not leave the person.

Our life is steadily ebbing away
Bhartṛhari, the great sage-poet, also makes a similar observation on life. He says that the rising of the sun each morning marks the passing of one more day of our life.

Daily, with the rising and setting of the sun, life shortens and time is not felt on account of affairs heavily burdened with manifold activities. Neither is fear produced at beholding birth, death, old age, and sufferings. Alas, the world has become mad by drinking the stupefying wine of delusion [Vairāgya Śatakam, 43].

Ādityasya gatāgatairaharahaḥ, every day that Aditya rises, saṅkñīyate jīvitam, our life is slowly exhausted. Every day looks like every other day, especially in a tropical country like India where there is no significant change of weather. However, while we think that it is the same sun that has risen, and the same day that has returned, our life is slowly getting depleted. The days that have gone by never return. The days are passing us by, one after another, but what do we do during the day? We do not even know how the whole day passes, kālo api na jïāyate. The morning comes, and because we are so busy and preoccupied during the day, it is night even before we realize it.

Vyāpārairbahukāryabhāragurubhiḥ, there is such a big burden of work to be accomplished. We are so engrossed in one activity or the other that we do not even heed the passing of each day. Man constantly looks around, and what does he find? He sees janmajarāvipattimaraṇam, the phenomenon of birth and death, and old age and disease. However, in spite of seeing this constant suffering and pain everyday, trāsaśca notpadyate, there is no fear in this heart at all. How is it that man feels no urgency inspite of observing all this? Why is it that he does not strive to bring about the real fulfilment of life? Pītvā mohamayīṃ pramādamadirāmunmattabhūtaṃ jagat. The poet says that man does not know what is happening because he is intoxicated with pramādamadirā, the wine of inadvertent. That is why he does not know what is happening and nobody seems to take note of the realities of life.

Desires, however, grow with time
Many poets and teachers have referred to the play of time with reference to our life. Kālaḥ krīḍati gacchatyāyuḥ, with every moment, as time marches on, our life is also slowly but steadily ebbing. It is said that everything gets exhausted, grows old, or perishes under the influence of time. However, if there is one thing that does not diminish with time, it is desire. Tadapi na muïcatyāśāvāyuḥ. Āśāvāyuḥ or desire is something that only grows with time. It is not we who enjoy them, but the pleasures that enjoy us Bhartṛhari offers another interesting observation on life. He says:

The worldly pleasures have not been enjoyed by us, but we ourselves have been devoured; no religious austerities have been gone through, but we ourselves have become scorched; time is not gone (being ever-present and infinite), but it is we who are gone (because of approaching death). Desire is not reduced in force, though we ourselves are reduced to senility [Vairāgya Śatakam, 7]

What the poet means here is that it is not as if we have enjoyed the various pleasures of life. Instead, we discover that it is the pleasures that have enjoyed us. For instance, I might think that I am drinking tea, but, in reality, the tea is drinking me. How is it? This is because without realizing it, I soon become addicted to drinking tea, and from then on, it is not I who am drinking tea, but the tea that demands or commands that I should drink it. The act of eating food is another example. The primary purpose of food is merely to appease hunger, but more often than not, food is eaten to satisfy the palate. I think that I am eating the food, but I am a compulsive eater, or require a certain kind of food alone. Therefore, it is really the food that commands that I should eat. The word for food, annam, is derived from the root ad, which means to eat. It is defined in the Taittrīya Upaniñad [2-2] as adyate iti ca bhūtāni, that which is eaten by people and which simultaneously eats the people. We think that we are eating food, but it is food that is constantly consuming us. Like this, we are addicted to so many things in life. Bhartṛhari says that on account of having made us dependant upon them, it is the objects and pleasures of the world that are enjoying us and not we who enjoy them.

In fulfilling desires, more desires arise
It is not as if we have performed penance, but the penance that seems to have performed us, tapo na taptaṃ vayameva taptāḥ. It is not time that has perished, but we who have perished in time, kālo na yāto vayameva yātāḥ. It is not our craving that has subsided, or become old or exhausted, tṛiṣā na jīrṇā vayameva jīrṇāḥ. It is we who have become dilapidated and decrepit in the process of fulfilling our cravings; the craving has only become stronger and stronger. The unfortunate truth of life is that in the process of the fulfillment of desires, more desires arise.

Desires arise because of inner inadequacy
Every desire is the inner manifestation of the inadequacy or the incompleteness that I am feeling. Unless I address that inner incompleteness, the desires will keep on springing up and I will always keep on exerting myself to fulfill them. You may ask, “But Swamiji, if we do not have desires, how can there be any progress?” There is nothing wrong with desire. It is something that is naturally there and we can go ahead and fulfill these desires in legitimate ways. However, there is no end to these desires. They arise in the mind and we fulfill them thinking that no new desire will arise, except that the fulfillment of one desire only brings about ten more desires. Has it ever happened that somebody has fulfilled all his desires and can claim that all his desires are fulfilled? That is why Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, jïāte tattve kaḥ saṃsāraḥ. Vedanta addresses the problem of the inner inadequacy or incompleteness, which is the cause of desires.

Desires exploit the weakness in our mind
Desires keep on propelling us from one situation to the other. Once they know our weakness, they will arise in our mind. We may resist them at first, but we are vulnerable and soon they get the better of us. I am reminded of an incident in this context. In Ahmedabad, there were many children in the huts in our neighborhood. I would see them when I returned from class

and decided to give them some prasād. I would ask them to chant ‘Hari om’, and give them some candy. Soon, even as they saw me coming, they would start chanting, “Hari om! Hari om!” and lined up for prasad. Slowly, they began to consider that getting the prasād was their right. What in the beginning was a privilege or favor became a right, and they began to demand candy even for their brothers and sisters who could not come on that day. That also was ok with me. However, one afternoon at 2:30 pm, when I was resting, there was a knock on my door. Nobody would disturb me at that time, but whoever it was obviously did not know that practice. I did not respond to that knock, but they continued to knock. I got up a bit irritated and opened the door and found a six-year old boy there. Naturally, my irritation went away. I asked him, “What do you want?”

He said, “Maharāj, prasād”. I told him, “I have distributed the prasād already this morning.” “I was not there this morning.” “Where were you?” “I had gone to school.” “So what? Come tomorrow!” “But I have not got my prasād for today! You must give me my share for today.” He knew that if he kept bugging me I would relent, and ultimately, he did manage to extract prasād from me. That morning, I had distributed only some sugar crystals because there were so many of them, but since he came alone, I gave him a piece of candy, and told him, “Don’t tell anyone, ok?” He promised not to tell anyone, but within minutes of his leaving, there was another knock. Another fellow had come for the candy. This went on until, one by one, all of them had come! They knew very well that the Swami was vulnerable, and by cajoling or coaxing him, they could get prasād. Similarly also, the desires know me well. When a desire arises in my mind, I may resist it in the beginning, except that, ultimately, the desire does get the better of me and I wind up fulfilling it.

Our desires keep growing
I am in India before coming to the United States looking for better prospects here. I go to school and get a degree. I start working and plan to return to India in 3-4 years after having saved a certain amount of money. I imagine that about $25,000 would be quite adequate, only, I soon realize that it would not be enough and my target goes upto $50,000. That means another three years of living here. By the time I save up $50,000 the cost of living in India goes up, and in Bombay, $50,000 will not fetch me an apartment. Therefore, my target saving goes up to $100,000. All the while, I imagine that I am making progress, but I should understand that it is this desire that is taking me for a ride.

This is not a condemnation of desire or a condemnation of doing or accomplishing something, but what happens is that the desires keep on arising, and I do not stop to think of what causes this. Neither do I realize that it is a manifestation of a more fundamental problem or more fundamental ill. Thus, I do not address that original problem. As we saw earlier, what I am desiring is happiness. How much happiness do I want? I want boundless happiness and I want unconditional freedom. I do not realize that no accomplishment in this world has a capability of giving me either, except to a limited extent. Unless that need is fulfilled, these desires are not going to go. Of course, most people don’t think so much. They are simply driven by their desires and the sense of gratification. As a result, the hunger only keeps on growing, and slowly, we become greater experts in seeking entertainment and fulfilling pleasures. According to a Sanskrit saying, as time passes, man becomes more and more skillful in enjoyment. Formerly we were happy with some kind of a radio. Then the transistor came. Then followed the tape recorders and stereos, the TV, the video, the DVD, the mp3 player and so on. In fact, not many people are interested in the radio these days. Everyone must have cable TV and video! Similarly, there was a time when even simple food would suffice, and having some ‘kichdi’ or rice was considered a luxury.

Now we have to have rice and ‘chapati’ and two or three vegetables everyday. Today, there are 123 flavors of ice cream available in Ahmedabad, and a new flavor is launched almost everyday.

As our requirements and demands keep on growing, newer and newer products are created everyday and older models and designs are constantly becoming obsolete. All the while, we think that we are making progress, but we are only becoming more and more dependent. This is a game, and we don’t realize that we are being exploited constantly. The entire marketing industry would not be there, unless they knew that we were gullible and could be exploited. Present a new product, and some fellow will want it. Somebody wears a new sari, and I want it, somebody wears a new ornament, and I want it, somebody has a new car, and I want it. We keep comparing ourselves with other people, find ourselves inadequate in something or the other, and thus, whether in our wardrobe or elsewhere, there is a growing collection of possessions. We must keep on acquiring more and more. This is a game in which, as the time ebbs away, my energy also slowly gets exhausted. The capability of the sense organs, even to derive enjoyment, slowly diminishes, but my mind continues to demand more and more. I may be suffering from diabetes, but my demand for sweets only grows. I cannot do without sweets. I will take insulin, but sweets I should have. How we become slaves to these things!

The gust of desire grows even in old age
Bhogā na bhuktā vayameva bhuktāḥ, it is not we who enjoy pleasures, but the pleasures that are enjoying us. Tṛiṣā na jīrṇā vayameva jīrṇāḥ. Our tṛiṣām, thirst or seeking has not become old. It is we who have become old while the craving becomes more and more powerful. Unfortunately, the person who has more is considered to be more successful. In the US, even at the age of 65 or 70 a person can enjoy life as though he were only 25! That means he has not grown in all these years. At the age of 70, the fellow gets married, for the third time. What for? These are the misplaced values of life. People in India are also beginning to follow this lifestyle thinking that we are civilized and modern, not realizing that as the body grows old the mind should also grow in maturity. That is what the ācārya means when he says tadapi na muïcatyāśāvāyuḥ. The gust of desire and craving does not leave the individual even as in his

old age. He becomes infirm and incapable of fulfilling his desires, and is incapable of even eating the food that he has cooked because his stomach or health does not permit it. These people are doing tapas, but not out of choice!

With all the food that is available, they are not able to eat anything. If these people were fasting for the sake of god or something like that and not for the sake of the body, they would at least derive some puṇya from it. The poet Bhartṛhari says, throughout my life I have done all that the great yogis do, but have not derived any benefit from it. The yogis left their home, I also left my home. For what? For the sake of earning money. The yogis wander in the sun, in the heat, and the cold, and I also wandered in the heat and the cold. For what? Again, for the sake of making money. The yogis are constantly in contemplation. They contemplate upon the feet of Lord Śiva. I also did that. I did everything that the yogis do, but did not get anything in return. Whether we

like it or not, we do all this. Like the poet, we also exert ourselves and undergo much trouble and suffering, but it is all in vain. This is being pointed out here in, kālaḥ krīḍati gacchatyāyuḥ tadapi na muïcatyāśāvāyuḥ. Time does not spare anybody; as it sports, life ebbs away.

Growing out of desires is living intelligently 
As we grow older, the mark of maturity is that we become more and more free. There is a greater sense of satisfaction, and fulfillment within. Maturity means that my requirements reduce as I grow. In our tradition, we have the four āśramas – bramacarya, gṛhstha, vānaprastha, and sannyāsa. Who is a vānaprastha? He is the one who lives a life of austerity in the forest. When can you do that? It can happen only when you have the satisfaction of having lived your life properly in gṛhsthāśrama. At some age, whether 55 or 60 or 65, we should retire. This means retiring from needs and necessities, not merely sitting idle. Otherwise where is the retirement? If my needs and necessities have not gone away, and I retire and am idle, there is a terrible problem because outwardly I cannot do anything, but inwardly all my needs have remained. When people talk to me about retirement, I always wonder whether they have retired in their mind. Retirement should begin in the mind. It implies a withdrawal from needs and necessities and the development of self-sufficiency. A mature man is a man who is self-sufficient.

The experience of the life of a householder is called growth only when we become self-sufficient. At the end of gṛhsthāśrama, then, I have the satisfaction that I have enjoyed enough. My mind is free from any cravings. Then alone can I apply the mind or focus that mind on penance, austerities, or worship, in leading the life of vānaprastha. If that does not happen, it can only mean that we have not grown. Thus, the burden of desires or burden of cravings always remains in my head, tadapi na muïcatyāśāvāyuḥ. This is a pitiable situation and is outlined further in subsequent verses, as to how the person has become old, but his desires and cravings are as young as ever.

This verse is cautioning us and telling us to lead our life intelligently. May you drink, but not let the drink consume you. May you eat the food, but not let the food eat you. May you enjoy the objects doubtless, but not let the objects enjoy you. We should enjoy our life in such a manner that we retain our freedom and, in course of time, discover an inner self-sufficiency so that we become free from the dependence upon the world for our enjoyment.


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Verse 13

Verse 13
In the 13th verse, again, a piece of advice is offered.

का ते कान्ता धनगतचिन्ता वातुल किं तव नास्ति नियन्ता ।
त्रिजगति सज्जनसङ्गतिरेका भवति भवार्णवतरणे नौका ॥ १३॥
kāte kāntā dhana gatacintā vātula kiṃ tava nāsti niyantā,
trijagati sajjanasaṃ gatiraikā bhavati bhavārṇavataraṇe naukā.

O distracted one, why worry about wife, wealth etc. Isn’t there an ordainer for you? The association with the wise or the good is the only one boat available to cross this ocean of becoming.

The question asked earlier was, kāte kāntā kaste putraḥ [8]. Kāte kāntā, who is your wife? She is a woman, and is married to you, but do you think your wife is merely this body or is there something more to her than that? Kaste putraḥ, who is your putraḥ or son? Again, is it merely this body, the individual, or is there something else? Know that there is a different dimension to life. Have you ever thought that in your silly relationship of pleasure and pain, and likes and dislikes with the individual who you call your wife, there is a person behind that personality? Have you ever thought about who you are dealing with? Similarly, you have various expectations of your son alright, but do you think that the outer form that appears is all there is to him? Kaḥ, who are you? Kastvam, are you merely this body, this personality experiencing pleasure and pain, or is there something more to you?

Kāte kāntā dhana gatacintā, why do you have this cintā? The word cintā means cintanam, thinking. How is it that you are constantly preoccupied with the thoughts of kāntā, dhana etc.? Kāntā is the wife or the beloved. Dhana means wealth, possession, name, fame, and power. Vāta is the wind. Vātula is one whose mind is under the spell of vāyu or the wind, meaning one who is deluded or distracted. Here, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, Vātula, oh distracted one, kiṃ tava nāsti niyantā, do you not have anything else to think about other than thoughts of money and wealth?

Think of the Ordainer, above and beyond our perception
You are constantly thinking of money, as to how much you have, how much more you will have etc. You are constantly making plans about how to add one more bedroom or another air conditioner or a garage etc. and are thus constantly planning and thinking. “I just had my breakfast, what am I going to have for lunch?” And then, even before finishing lunch, “What am I going to have for dinner?” “What am I going to be doing this weekend?” Do we have anything else to think about? Kiṃ tava nāsti niyantā. Isn’t there an ordainer, niyanta, a God or something other than all these things in life? Do you think your life merely consists of only these things?

There are some serious questions raised here. Do you think the world is merely that which is perceived through the eyes and ears, or is there something above and beyond? Is life merely to be exhausted in pursuing and experiencing just what is perceptible? What is it that gives the mind the capacity to perform its functions? What is it that gives the various sense organs the capacity to perform their functions? What is it that gives the world the ability to exist and survive and function the way it does? Vātula kiṃ tava nāsti niyantā? Don’t you think that there is a niyantā or ordainer, some fundamental Truth or greater dimension to life? You see that the perceptible world exists, that it is constantly in motion, and that it is supported or sustained, but do you realize that there is some principle that sustains this creation, and because of which the creation is? This principle is that which cannot be revealed by speech, but because of which speech is revealed, yad vācāanabhyuthaṃ yena vāg abhyudyate [Kenopaniñad, 1-5]. Do you realize that speech is not the ultimate reality, but there is something because of which the speech is revealed? It is that which cannot be comprehended by the mind, but because of which the mind comprehends, yanmanasā na manute, yenāhurmano matam, [Kenopaniñad, 1-6]. Do not think that the mind is the only reality, but enquire into what it is because of which the mind is able to think, perceive, realize, understand, and know.

Life has a different dimension beyond what you perceive it to be. If you do not take that dimension into account, you have not taken life into account at all. That is the reason why, in the Kenopaniñad [2-1], the teacher says to the student, if you think that you know god, meaning that god is confined to that which is perceptible or knowable, you have known only one small fraction of god, yadi manyase suvedeti dabhram evāpi, nūnaṃ tvaṃ vettha brahmaṇo rūpam. This is because there is something that is beyond, that sustains this perceptible creation. Therefore, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says here, vātula kiṃ tava nāsti niyantā? Isn’t there a substratum which sustains this entire creation as you understand it? Have you ever taken that into account when you make calculations in your life, that you are going to do this, you are going to achieve that etc.? In all of these calculations, schemes, and planning, have you ever taken into account the fact that there is something that sustains all this? Śrī Śaṅkarācārya is pointing out how you permit yourself to be completely preoccupied with just the concerns, worries, anxieties, and thoughts about this gross perceptible creation, which is called kāntā and dhana, without looking beyond it.

Alternative interpretation: The Ordainer, not you, sustains the creation
Another way of interpreting this statement would be to see kāte kāntā dhana gatacintā to mean, why are you worried about your wife and wealth and everything else. Vātula, kiṃ tava nāsti niyantā? Oh distracted one, isn’t there a niyantā, the ordainer who actually sustains the creation? Do you imagine that it is you who support and sustain this family, your wife and child and everything else? Do you not realize that there is some principle, niyantā, who has created this world and is supporting it? Do you not know, that when you think that you are sustaining, or supporting, or accomplishing, in fact you are able to do all this on account of this very niyantā?

Each of us is but an instrument In the Bhagavad Gītā, this lesson was very vividly given to Arjuna. When Arjuna requested Lord Kṛṣṇa to reveal his cosmic form, Śrī Kṛṣṇa showed him

his cosmic form. Arjuna soon saw that this cosmic form was nothing but the embodiment of death; Lord Kṛṣṇa manifested himself as the very death, devouring the creation. Arjuna saw that death was in front of him, devouring the whole creation. All the great warriors were entering the mouth of the Lord, and he was chewing them up, masticating them, and enjoying the whole exercise, licking his lips. Arjuna was shaken up, “Lord, what are you doing? Who are you? How are you visible in this form?” “I am death and I am here to devour everything.” “If you are devouring everything, what am I doing here?” “You are doing nothing. Whether you are on this battlefield or not, nobody here is going to survive. All these people who appear to be alive and fighting with you are, in fact, already taken care of. Nobody is really alive. I have already consumed them.” “Then what is my role?” “Your role is to stand up and do what you have to do, and take all the credit. I have chosen you to win this battle and get the credit. Thus, history will say that Arjuna won this battle and conquered the unconquerable ones such as Bhīñma and Droṇācārya. While you are doing this, however, realize that you are just the nimitta or instrument in my hands.”

This is the truth of life. Each one of us is only an instrument, but then we have the arrogance or pride to think that we are doing all of this. I should realize that I am merely an instrument, and that things are being done through me; that I am doing this because there is a grace or favor. Therefore, when I think that I have built the house, I have earned this money, and I have accomplished this, or think that this is my family, or this is my responsibility, I am always anxious.

There is an anxiety and fear of what will happen to my wife, or to my children etc. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, why do you concern yourself with these worries and anxieties? Do you think that you have taken care of them so far? Do you think that you have supported and sustained them? Isn’t there a niyantā or ordainer? Do you not realize that there is a creator, one who sustains this creation? He is the one who actually supports them.

Don’t be unnecessarily proud
There is a story told, of Chatrapathi Shivaji. He was a great man and a great king. It seems that during his reign there was a famine brought on by a drought. So Shivaji initiated many social work projects, such as the digging of wells, digging of ponds etc. to keep the people engaged, and to give them food and support them. When such projects were going on, Shivaji was once

observing them, inspecting things with a certain pride. A certain thought apparently arose in his mind, “Oh, look at what I am doing. If I were not there, what would have happened to these people?” It seems that his teacher Samartha Rāmadas was with him at that time. He was really samartha, endowed with various powers. He realized what was happening in the mind of Shivaji, and saw that he had pride that he was doing these things. He ordered Shivaji to bring a hammer, and then asked him to split open a big rock. Shivaji hit the rock several times till it split apart. Inside the rock, he found a small cavity in which there was a small insect, and there was one little particle of grain. Rāmadas asked Shivaji, “Who is the one supporting the little insect inside this stone? Are you providing that grain to the insect?” “No, sir.” Rāmadas then explained, “It is God who is taking care of that insect. It is God who has created that creature, and therefore, God also provides for him. When he gives you teeth, he also gives you food. This is the scheme of life.” Shivaji then realized that he had been unnecessarily proud in thinking that he was responsible for supporting all those people.

Pride breeds all kinds of anxieties
If pride gave me a sense of happiness then it would have been alright. But even as I feel proud that I am the one who has accomplished or achieved something, the pride gets transformed into worry about how to achieve further or what will happen to my achievement. Similarly, there are anxieties regarding what will happen to my wife, or my children, my wealth or my position. Bill Clinton has just won the election, and do you know what they are already thinking about? His re-election is the concern now! They are wondering how to go about engineering the economic policies, so that at the end of four years the economy appears improved and he can get re-elected.

All that we are concerned about is how to maintain what we have, yoga and kñema. Yoga here is acquiring what I do not have, and kñema is protecting what I have. This consumes my life, and I think that I am responsible for doing all of this. This is the kind of a pride that is pointed out in kiṃ tava nāsti niyantā. Don’t you realize that there is a niyantā, an ordainer, who is the creator, sustainer, governor and controller who is doing all of this? You are only an instrument in his hands. This is the second interpretation. In my opinion, the first interpretation is perhaps better. How is it that you are so completely preoccupied with the thoughts of your wife, children, wealth, possessions, power and position? Don’t you have anything else to think about? Don’t you realize that there is a higher principle, something superior that really fills up this life? Why don’t you think about that?

Saṃsāra is like an ocean
Trijagati sajjanasaṃ gatiraikā bhavati bhavārṇavataraṇe naukā. Jagat means creation or the world. Trijagat is the threefold world. We look upon the universe as consisting of three worlds, the pṛthivī or bhū loka or this world, the antarikña or bhuvar loka, the intermediate world, and svaḥ or svarga loka, the heavens. In all these three worlds, sajjana samgatiḥ eka bhavati bhavārṇavataraṇe naukā. Arnava is an ocean. Bhava is saṃsāra or the life of becoming, this life of birth and death, the life of struggles. This bhava or saṃsāra is comparable to the arnava or ocean because there is no end to it at all. It is just as endless as the search for the 10th man. When will he ever discover the 10th man? Never. As long as he is searching for the 10th man, he can never find the 10th man. Why is it that he cannot ever find the 10th man? Because he himself is the 10th man. So also, as long as I am searching for the fulfillment of my life elsewhere in the world, so long can I never find it, because what I am searching for is my own nature. That is why this life of becoming, this life of struggles, this life of gaining a sense of fulfillment is saṃsāra and is compared to the ocean.

Bhu means to be. Bhava means becoming; a life of becoming. Bhava also means birth. There is also change, there is constant modification, constant movement, a becoming from one state to the other, from one life to the other. Lord Śiva is also called Bhava, because he is the creator. As the creator he is called Bhava, when he is the destroyer he is called Hara, and when he is the sustainer he is called Mṛda. When he is beyond all these three, he is called Śivaḥ. Bhava means this life of becoming. We have been struggling in this arnava, this ocean. As Pujya Swami Dayanandaji would say, we are neither completely floating nor completely drowning; now and then we come to the surface, breathe fresh air, and are again pulled down, suffocated and struggling. This is the story of our lives, one that has been going on from time beginningless, perpetuated from one embodiment to another, and therefore, called arnava or ocean.

The company of the wise will help us cross the ocean
How is one to cross this ocean? With the help of a naukā, which means boat. What is that boat? It is sajjana samgatiḥ. Sangati is company, and sajjana, good or wise people. As we saw earlier, this satsaṅga or sajjana samgatiḥ, the association with the wise or the good is the eka naukā, the one boat available to us to cross this ocean of saṃsāra in all the three worlds. Even if you go to heaven, you will not find another boat. The idea of a boat is a very beautiful upama or comparison, because while riding a boat we are protected and safe from the assaults of waves and other aquatic creatures. Similarly, when in the company of good people or wise people, we are protected from any assaults of the world which we would otherwise constantly experience such as honor and dishonor, or the sense of hurt and guilt. It is not as if these experiences will not be there, but being with the wise people gives us a viveka or discrimination because of which we slowly discover a poise in spite of the experiences of life. Today, every experience seems to disturb me. I am upset, I am worried, and I am anxious.

The association with the good shows us that all these worries and anxieties, and all the hurts and problems arise not because there is a reason for those problems, but because we do not have a proper perception of life. This right perception, viveka or discrimination, protects us from the assults of the world, and therefore, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says that in all the three worlds, sajjana samgatiḥ is the only boat that can enable us to cross this ocean of saṃsāra.

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Verse 14

Verse 14
Now the disciples are presenting their observations, and each one has something interesting to say.

द्वादशमञ्जरिकाभिरशेषः कथितो वैयाकरणस्यैषः ।
उपदेशोऽभूद्विद्यानिपुणैः श्रीमच्छङ्करभगवच्छरणैः ॥ १३अ ॥
jaṭilo muṇḍī luïchitakeśaḥ kāñāyāmbarabahukṛtaveñaḥ,
paśyannapi cana paśyati mūḍhaḥ udaranimittaṃ bahukṛtaveñaḥ.

One ascetic with matted hair, one with shaved head, one with hair plucked out one by one, one in ocre robes – all these are distracted ones who, though seeing, do not see. These are different disguises are only for their living.

Many different traditions
There are different traditions in India, and a variety of sādhus or renunciates and ascetics such as Jains or Bauddhās. Jaṭilaḥ are those who have matted locks. Muṇḍī are those who shave their head. Luïchitakeśaḥ are those who, like the Jain monks, pluck out their hair one by one. Jain monks are known for their severe austerities and penances because that is their belief. The kind of sādhana or penance that a person follows will always depend upon how they perceive life, how they perceive bondage and, therefore, how they perceive liberation. The Jain monks believe that the self or ātmā is under the weight of the dust of karma. Past actions result in a very subtle dust-like thing, which sticks to the ātmā or the self, and therefore the self, under the weight of the karma, is under this world, the lowest world. What you have to do is release the self from the dust of karma and, therefore, these monks are constantly performing very severe penances.

Kāñāyāmbara are those that wear ocre robes. In India, the sādhus wear different kinds of robes. There are those who wear white robes, those who wear ocre robes, others who wear yellow, and yet others, who wear red. There are also those who wear some other colors. There is a large variety of paramparās, each with a different variety of robes. Ocre is not the predominant color. Bahukṛtaveñaḥ refers to these ascetics who wear a variety of costumes or robes.

Symbolism of orange, shaving off the head, and matted locks 
Why do some wear these orange robes? Orange is the color of fire, and fire stands for renunciation. We invoke different deities in the fire when we perform the yāga, and make offerings or oblations. Fire is where we renounce things or offer things, and so fire stands for renunciation. Therefore, the one who has renounced the pleasures of the world wears robes of this color. Why do we shave our heads? It is because hair represents attachment and beauty. Generally, a person is highly attached to hair, and we spend significant amounts of time over our hair during the day. Shaving off the hair is, again, a manner of renouncing the various attachments. Then why do some have matted locks? Keeping one’s hair groomed represents attachment and they have given that up. What about those who pluck the hair as a mark of austerity? This denotes a deliberate form of suffering.

Why do we find forms of self-mortification in India? It is not self mortification, but self-purification. There is a deliberate self-denial called vrata or tapas, austerity, that is performed to increase one’s will power and also deliberately deny oneself pleasures, in order to grow out of them. Thus people wear these robes and undertake to perform these various things.

These symbols signify the renunciate’s commitment It may be argued that if you are an ascetic, the renunciation is in the mind and not present outwardly. That is true. It is the mind which should wear the orange color. Yet, the robes always act as a reminder that I am a renunciate.

Therefore, they signify a commitment to certain values of life: renunciation, commitment to austerity, and commitment to the pursuit of knowledge. Every time I see the robe, I am reminded of it. That is why young children around the age of eight are given the yajïopavīta, which has three threads. The three threads stand for the three deities, Brahmā, Viṣṇu, and Śiva. You are the worshiper of these deities, and it stands for the commitment to worship, it stands for the commitment to certain rituals that they perform.

Renunciates are respected for their commitment
In India, sometimes, there is a fascination for becoming a sādhu, because sādhus are respected. They are respected not for their dress, but for what they are. But based on the robes that he is wearing, we give him the benefit of the doubt, and respect the costume. Ultimately, the respect for the person gets translated into a respect for the costume. Thus, whoever wears the costume also earns our respect. We prostrate to him, serve him, and do all kinds of things. This is part of the tradition. The Munḍakopaniñad [3-1-10] says, tasmādātmajïaṃ hyarcayet bhūtikāmaḥ, one who is desirous of bhūti or vibhūti, prosperity, may he worship the wise man. One who is desirous of knowledge should worship him, of course, but even one who is desirous of prosperity or wealth should serve him.

The reason why the mahātmās or ascetics are served by the society is because the society looks up to them. Behind that service, there is also a little desire that I may gain their favor and, therefore, my problem will be solved. So we touch the feet of the learned people, because we get some grace. That is why some sādhus are hesitant to let people touch their feet because every time someone touches their feet, a little bit of puṇya goes away. These are all beliefs. When people have grown in this belief, these things are ingrained in the personality. When we see a sādhu, habitually, we will always offer a salutation. Thus, the robes are put on because they represent a certain commitment. 

Some take up renunciation for physical sustenance
In this verse, however, the teacher is presenting the observation of an unfortunate fact that some people don these robes not because they are committed to what the robe stands for, but merely for the sake of the belly, udaranimittaṃ bahukṛtaveñaḥ. Udaram is the belly. Udaranimittam is for the sake of the belly. Bahukṛtaveñaḥ means the many disguises that are taken up for the sake of physical sustenance.

In India, you can be assured of food if you wear these robes. Wherever you go, bhikña will definitely be given to you. It is the privilege of the sādhu to go and beg for alms. It is not called begging; it is called bhikña. The householders who live a life of activity and of pleasures, know how difficult it is to renounce the pleasures, understand the value of renunciation, and consider it their privilege to support sādhus because there is a value for knowledge, there is a value for austerity, and there is a value for renunciation. There is great respect for the one who has renounced.

Today, in India, there are hundreds of refugees from Bangladesh and they find it very convenient to wear this kind of clothes. In Rishikesh, we find so many sādhus because of the anna-kñetras, or the public feeding places. The sādhus have the privilege of going there and getting their bhikña. To get the food, all you have to do is wear these clothes. Many people do that. It is very difficult to tell a true sādhu from one who is merely wearing these clothes for the sake of food. Thus, udaranimittaṃ bahukṛtaveñaḥ. For the sake of the belly, so many disguises are taken up. How sad it is! Sometimes, one finds it very convenient to wear this kind of a robe as a means of escaping life also, and be assured of sustenance without having to assume responsibility. It is possible, though not very common.

Even though some may know the value of renunciation, they do not follow it 
Paśyannapi cana paśyati mūḍhaḥ. Look at this mūḍhaḥ, the deluded fellow. Paśyannapi, even though he sees, na paśyati, he does not see. He sees himself wearing the robes, and he also understands what the robes stand for. Very often, when people prostrate to him or serve him, he realizes why people are doing that. Again and again, he realizes or sees exactly what his commitment should be, or exactly what the values of his life should be. Even then, he does not follow them, paśyannapi cana paśyati mūḍhaḥ udaranimittaṃ bahukṛtaveñaḥ. The other day someone told me, “Swamiji, look at all these sādhus. This sādhu in India committed a theft!” I said, “A sādhu will never commit a theft. A thief can appear as a sādhu, but a real sādhu will never commit theft.”

Some sincere renunciates are distracted
It may also be possible that one may sincerely take up renunciation, but after having taken up the robe find it rather difficult to sustain those values, and therefore, get distracted agian. When that happens, his life and the values that he is living are not compatible with the robes that he is wearing. Therefore, there is a split between what he appears to be and what he is. Then he should really give up wearing the robes. If he does not, it follows that it is merely for his sustenance that he remains a sādhu. This kind of sādhu must have been there. Imagine, if they were there at that time, then, what to talk of today?

This may even be an observation about a seeker who sincerely took up these robes, but may have become distracted along the way because he did not prepare himself. You should understand that before we enter any āśrama, or before we take up any commitment, there must be some preparation or maturity to accompany that. Even entering the role of a householder is a big responsibility, and calls for a great deal of maturity. We believe that just because a boy has grown to the age of 25 or so, or a girl is of the age of 22 or so, that they should be married. Mere age should not be the criterion. When a person gets married, one should realize that it signifies a commitment and comes with a responsibility. A lot of maturity is called for. Similarly, when you become a vānaprastha, another level of maturity is called for. When you become a sannyāsī, yet another level of maturity is called for.

Sannyāsa means samyak nyāsaḥ or proper renunciation. You may outwardly give up things, but if you have not given them up inwardly, they remain with you and continue to bother you. They continue to harrass you. Sometimes, out of some kind of a fascination or some kind of an āvega or impulse, somebody may take up sannyāsa. But then, adequate inner maturity is not acquired and then he is harassed by his past saṃskāras. It is possible that on the way he may get distracted. Therefore, he may not be capable of living the values that he wanted to live. Such a person is perhaps addressed in this verse. Mūḍhaḥ, oh lost one, or oh distracted one, understand why you have put on these clothes. How do you fail to see the values by which you should be living, or the objectives with which you have taken up this life? Otherwise, wearing these clothes continue to be merely for the sake of the belly, udaram.

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Verse 15

Verse 15
Another observation of life is presented in the 15th verse.

जटिलो मुण्डी लुञ्छितकेशः काषायाम्बरबहुकृतवेषः ।
पश्यन्नपि च न पश्यति मूढो ह्युदरनिमित्तं बहुकृतवेषः ॥ १४॥
aṅgaṃ galitaṃ palitaṃ muṇḍaṃ daśanavihīnaṃ jātaṃ tuṇḍam,
vṛddho yāti gṛhītvā daṇḍaṃ tadapi na muïcatyāśāpiṇḍam.

The body has weakened; the head has turned gray; the mouth has become toothless; the old man moves about with his staff. Even then, he does not give up his bundle of hopes and desires.

This is an observation of an old man, aṅgaṃ galitam, whose body has become old and decrepit. Muṇḍam is the head. The head has become bald or gray, palitaṃ muṇḍam. This is how we grow into old age. Slowly, the limbs become loose and the body becomes weaker and weaker. 

The hair starts turning gray. Tuṇḍam is the mouth and daśanam is the tooth. Daśanavihīnaṃ means toothless. The mouth is rendered toothless, daśanavihīnaṃ jātaṃ tuṇḍam. The teeth start falling one by one. That is how old age comes upon us. Vṛddha is an old man, whose body has ripened. Yāti gṛhītvā daṇḍam. With age, his spinal chord has become weaker, and he is not able to keep himself straight or sustain the weight of his body. Therefore, he requires a staff in order to support himself.

Vṛddho yāti gṛhītvā daṇḍaṃ, this is a picture of a tottering old man leaning upon his staff. There is nothing wrong with becoming an old person. To be old is not his fault; this is the way of life.

In India, we always respect old age. We always respect maturity, and maturity can be there because of age. An old man is called vayoḥ vrddhaḥ, one who is mature in age. Tapo vrddhaḥ is one who is mature because of his tapas or austerity. We respect them also. Jïāna vrddhaḥ, is one who is mature on account of jïāna, or wisdom.

An old person need not necessarily be emotionally mature
An elderly person, naturally, deserves our respect. However, we are told, tadapi na muïcatyāśāpiṇḍam. How sad it is that even though he has grown so old, and therefore incapable of really enjoying the sense pleasures anymore, tadapi, even then, na muïcatyāśāpiṇḍam, this old man still does not give up the bundle of hopes and desires. Piṇḍam is a heap or bundle. As you grow old, whether you like it or not, your body will also grow old. If there is one thing for which we do not have to make an effort, it is the fact of growing older. Whoever is born has to grow. Soon, before you realize it, you start shaving, and you are ready for marriage! A human being can grow in age, but may not grow in his mind. Or he may not grow in maturity. This kind of disparity or split can be there in a human being. Such a split is being pointed out here.

Emotional maturity implies a greater degree of self-sufficiency What is meant by growing in maturity? What is called growth in life? What do we call success in life? How do our scriptures look at success in human life? The success is growing in inner maturity, growing in inner purity, growing in inner freedom. As you go along in life, you discover greater and greater freedom, a greater and greater degree of self-sufficiency, and a progressively greater sense of satisfaction with oneself. You are able to say, now I have lived enough in this life, let me now proceed to the next step.

There was a time when I would play with marbles, and those days are long gone. Then I started playing with a bat and ball; those days also went. I used to ride a bicycle, and then I rode a scooter, and then later it was a motorcar. As we go along in our life, we keep dropping what is minor and keep picking up what is greater. This is how we grow. All the growth at the level of the body is fine, but what is meant by inner growth or emotional maturity? What is it? Emotional maturity is to grow in inner composure or inner equipoise, our inner balance and inner cheerfulness. It implies becoming free from reactions, becoming free from likes and dislikes, desires and fascination. It means becoming free from dependence, in as much as a desire represents dependence. When my mind desires something, it shows that I am dependent on that object for happiness or security. I expect to get some happiness or some security out of that. Otherwise I would not desire it. Thus, a desire represents a dependence upon that thing for my happiness or security.

A desire is a symptom or manifestation of an inner dependence or an inner bondage. That is the reason why the more the desires I have, the more bound or more dependent I am. A desire represents a kind of slavery. As we go through a variety of experiences in life, it should result in a satisfaction that I have enjoyed this life, that I have gained the pleasures and don’t need them anymore. This is because as I enjoy, I keep discovering an inner satisfaction, an inner maturity. So we would say that a man has become mature when at the end of his life as a householder, he is ready to retire. He is ready to give up the pleasures of the householder. He is now ready to take up a life of austerity, prayer, and worship. This is what we call vānaprastha āśrama, or going to the vanam or forest.

Going to a forest may not take place literally, because it is very inconvenient to live in the forest. In the US, nobody will allow you to live in the forest either. You perhaps won’t even survive. So one does not have to literally go to the forest, but going to the forest means retiring from daily involvement. The parents would hand over all the household affairs to the eldest son, and then retire. Today, people don’t retire. If he is in business or industry, this man does not hand over control to his children. Nobody really retires these days. I may not go to work, but all decisions must be made with my concurrence. Control is difficult to give up because I am seeking security from that. I feel I will be nowhere once I give up my position of power. I will be nothing and will not be respected. Therefore, I am seeking security from the respect, regard, and power that comes from controlling people. This shows my inner insecurity. So maturity is to discover an inner security as we go along in life.

Renunciation should be the goal of life
When I am past living the life of a householder, I am ready to give up my inner insecurity, I am ready to give up those crutches to which I was holding on so far for my happiness and security. I am ready to retire to a forest because the need for those crutches is no more, and I can now dedicate myself to prayers and worship, meditation and austerities. Then one matures from vānaprastha āśrama to completely renounce even that, and the fourth āśrama becomes the life of a renunciate. So sannyāsa or renunciation is the goal of life as presented by our scriptures. The life of a householder is, therefore, nothing but a preparation for renunciation. 

As we will see later, in the 18th verse, kasya sukhaṃ na karoti virāgaḥ, there is real happiness only in renunciation. As I discover that renunciation, a little inner fulfillment, I become freer. It does not matter if my body grows old. That is a biological phenomenon. I cannot stop it. It would be nice if I keep my body in fit condition, but a day will come when my teeth will fall, when my hair will turn gray, regardless of what I do. There is nothing wrong with it. I need not feel bad about it or ashamed of it. Today, we don’t even want to accept the fact of old age. I can’t stand this gray hair, and I do whatever I can to color them black. If the teeth have fallen, I put in some false teeth. There is nothing wrong in looking good, but why do I have such hesitation or shame in appearing as I am? Because, again, I do not accept myself as I am. Maturity lies in all of these respects. These are the facts of life and I learn to live happily with them. 

Mature with age 
The observation here is that this old man has not achieved this maturity that comes with age. Not that every old man is like that, or that every sādhu is like the one described in the previous verse, but this observation is presented for people who are not yet old and are growing old. Tadapi na muïcatyāśāpiṇḍam, this man, who is leaning on a staff because he cannot carry his own weight, still has a tremendous burden on his head of a variety of desires, expectations, hopes, and cravings. Bhogā na bhuktā vayameva bhuktāḥ; this man has spent his entire life seeking pleasures and fulfilling his cravings. Therefore, the cravings have grown more and more powerful even though the fellow has become weak and is incapable of even enjoying what he has, or incapable of giving expression to his cravings. This is a very miserable state of affairs. Therefore, here is a warning: lead your life intelligently and do not put yourself in a situation where inwardly all your powerful cravings are there, and outwardly you are incapable of fulfilling those cravings.

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Verse 16

Verse 16
This verse presents a picture of various ascetics. The other verses thus far have talked of householders, showing how they have been distracted and not lived intelligently, and have therefore, not accomplished or even attempted to accomplish the purpose of their life. A similar observation is made in verse 16 about an ascetic.

अङ्गं गलितं पलितं मुण्डं दशनविहीनं जातं तुण्डम् ।
तुण्डम् वृद्धो याति गृहीत्वा दण्डं तदपि न मुञ्चत्याशापिण्डम् ॥मुञ्चत्याशापिण्डम् १५॥
agre vahniḥ pṛñṭhebhānuḥ rātrau cubukasamarpitajānuḥ,
karatalabhikñastarutalavāsaḥ tadapi na muïcatyāśāpāśaḥ.

Behold there is the man who sits warming up his body with the fire in front and the sun at the back, at night he curls up the body to keep himself warm; he receives his alms in the bowl of his hands and lives under the shelter of trees. Even then he has not been released from the noose of desires. 

Here is the picture of a renunciate who has renounced everything, who has nothing with him. Agre vahniḥ pṛñṭhebhānuḥ. Agre means in front. Vahnih is fire. There is fire in front of him, and pṛñṭhebhānuḥ, at his back is the sun. Rātrau cubukasamarpitajānuḥ, at night he sits curled up against the cold. This is a person who has no possessions at all, not even a blanket to cover himself with. During the day, he sits in the sun and gets some warmth. When it gets cold at night, he lights up a fire, and when the fire goes out, cubukasamarpitajānuḥ, he sits with his knees folded and his chin touching his knees in order to ward off the cold. Karatala is the palm of the hand. He receives his bhikña, his alms, in his palms, karatalabhikñaḥ. He does not even have a begging bowl. He is satisfied with whatever bhikña he is able to receive in the palms of his hands. Where does he live? Tarutalavāsaḥ, he lives under a tree. Imagine an ascetic has no dwelling place, who does not have a begging bowl, and who does not even have a blanket to protect himself from the inclement weather. This is a great renunciate who has renounced everything, and still, the observation is, tadapi na muïcatyāśāpāśaḥ. Pāśaḥ is the noose, and āśāpāśaḥ is the noose of desire. In spite of having renounced every possession, and every form of pleasure or enjoyment in his life, he is still entangled in the noose of cravings and desire. The noose of desire does not leave this ascetic also. It is not that all ascetics are like that. This is only an observation, and the idea is that the desires or cravings do not leave you, regardless of where you go.

Renunciation is in the mind
You cannot escape desires merely by creating a distance between yourself and these cravings and desires. They do not go away by any kind of action on your part. It is not that if you leave home or wear certain clothes or lead a certain way of life you become a renunciate.

Renunciation is in the mind. The robes that you wear are nothing but the manifestation of your state of mind. It is in the mind that desires are to be renounced. What is to be renounced in life? Who is a renunciate? A renunciate is one who has renounced all cravings and desires.

Desires are to be grown out of, not given up
It looks as though, again, Vedanta seems to be against desires and cravings. Every time we listen to Vedanta we seem to hear, “Give up your desires and cravings.” But we don’t actually say that. We don’t ask you to give up your desires, but ask you to grow out of your desires. We have already seen the mechanism of desires. What is it that brings about a desire in my mind? A desire arises when I don’t feel good about myself, because there is a sense of incompleteness or inadequacy in my mind. I cannot accept myself to be incomplete or inadequate, and therefore, there is a basic urge to be complete, to be adequate.

The desire behind all desires
The desire behind all the desires is to become complete or become adequate. Depending upon my perception of adequacy, I seek to fulfill desires in different ways. Thus, one may seek to become wealthy, thinking that he will become adequate that way. Another may want to become a powerful person, while someone else seeks name and fame. People are searching for different kinds of powers such as powers at the physical level, including inner powers at the mental level. People are searching for all kinds of different things, hoping that by acquiring those things, they can become adequate. There is one quest that man has and that is to become adequate. Therefore, desire is an expression of the inner inadequacy that I am feeling and my attempt to fulfill the desire is nothing but an attempt to become adequate. You can’t grudge anybody for having a desire. It is not possible to give up desire, even if somebody preaches to us to renounce our desires. They are asking us to do something which we cannot do, because desiring is not under my control, it just arises. As long as there is inadequacy inside, nobody can give up desire. When there is a pressure cooker on the stove, as long as there is fire, there will be steam forming and blowing out of that cooker. You may pour some cold water on it and the steam may cool down for some time, but it will come out eventually and continue until you remove the cause, namely fire. Similarly, we may only suppress our desires by trying to forget about them, or even trying to fulfill them, but unless the basic inadequacy goes away, the desire will not go away. All that we can do is perhaps understand our desires.

Desires cannot be satisfied by conventional pursuits
We have to understand what it is that we desire. What I seek is to become a complete being, an acceptable being. What is required next is the discriminative power to understand what it is that can make me complete. That is where maturity or understanding is required. Are these pursuits going to make me complete? Does my experience show that I have become a more adequate person having achieved all these things in my life? Do I find myself to be a more adequate person than I was earlier? I was born a wanting person, but I continue to remain a wanting person. I go on wanting, except that while what I ask for keeps on changing, the demanding self ever remains there. I want this or I want that. The want does not go away; only its appearance changes. Thus, when I think about the experiences in my life, I realize that my want cannot be satisfied by these conventional pursuits. That is where Vedanta comes to our help and tells us that there is no reason to feel the inadequacy that we are feeling because you are the adequate self. Therefore, the sense of inadequacy is not because you have a reason for it, but because you are ignorant, or do not know your true nature.

Desires can be taken care of only by Self-knowledge
Vedanta points the problem of our life to be an ignorance of the nature of reality, rather than a real inadequacy. Thus the inadequacy or incompleteness that I feel about myself is not legitimate or genuine. It is something that is a result of ignorance. Unless the ignorance of the self goes, this sense of inadequacy will not go.

parīkñya lokān karmacitān brahmaṇo nirvedamāyānnāstyakṛtaḥ kṛtena,
tadvijïānārthaṃ sa gurumevābhigacchet samitpāṇiḥ śrotriyaṃ brahmaniñṭham.

Having analyzed the worldly experiences and achievements acquired through karma, a mature person gains dispassion and discerns that the uncreated (limitlessness) cannot be produced by action. To know That (limitlessness), he should go, with twigs in his hand (servitude), to a teacher who is learned in the scriptures and who is steadfast in the knowledge of himself [Muṇḍakopaniñad 1-2-12].

When one understands that what I am seeking is the limitless which cannot be created, but is only to be known, my attention is drawn to knowledge, and to inquiry, rather than to doing things. It is by viveka or discrimination that the desires can be transformed from the desire for the mundane to the desire for knowledge. Desire will always be there, except now it becomes a desire for mokña or a desire for knowledge. Thus, even in the one who has renounced life, there is a desire. What is his desire? He wants to know. He has understood that it is knowledge that is going to remove the sense of incompleteness. Therefore, what we call a renunciate is a mature person who has understood life, and has understood himself. He has understood his own urge, his own need. We don’t understand our own need and therefore, go around trying to fulfill the need. It is one who has understood that need who realizes that it is the knowledge of the Self and the study of the scriptures that will solve the problem. Out of this understanding, therefore, he gives up the pursuits of material achievement.

Renunciation without gaining maturity is suppression
Renunciation is nothing but maturity or understanding. When you have that you can certainly give up things, and not miss them. You will understand that you don’t need those things. Then alone is the mind free to do what it has to do because we require a relaxed mind in order to study, contemplate, learn, and gain knowledge. This is what is involved in renunciation. Suppose a person renounces things without having understood this, tadapi na muïcatyāśāpāśaḥ, the noose of desire does not leave him because that sense of inadequacy still remains as well as the need to remove that sense of inadequacy. A person becomes a renunciate by giving up all the means to fulfill his desires, and he has nothing left with which to fulfill the demands of his senses. However, if the needs and demands of the senses remain, then it is a very pitiable condition. It is pitiable to give up something but retain the need for it. By will, I resolve that I will not drink tea or coffee from tomorrow, but then every morning I crave that. That manner of giving up does not help me because it only creates a sense of deprivation and suppression.

Renunciation begins with giving up attachment and aversion
Doing something is not a solution. Not doing something is also not a solution; understanding alone is the solution. When that maturity is there, one is ready for the life of renunciation. Actually, one should become a renunciate before giving up anything. That is why Lord Kṛṣṇa teaches us karma yoga. The life of a householder should become a life of worship. The actions he performs then become an offering to the Lord, and that is how he is a sannyāsī in the making. The person who neither hates nor longs for anything should be known as always a renunciate, jïeyaḥ sa nityasannyāsī yo na dveñṭi na kāṅkñati [Bhagavadgītā, 5-3].

Lord Kṛṣṇa points out how the process of renunciation takes place. What is the first thing that you have to renounce? It is your rāgas and dveñas, meaning desires. When they say that we must renounce desires, it means that we have to renounce rāga or attachment and dveña or aversions, which have arisen, as we saw earlier, because of not understanding the nature of things. When I impose upon something a certain value that does not belong to it, there is rāga. Similarly, when I hate something, also because of not understanding, there is dveña. So rāga-dveñas are both results of aviveka or non-discrimination. They have thus to be eliminated. That is the training that you have to gain as a householder.

So, is a person mature when he grows old? When can we call him mature? As one advances in age, if he also advances in freedom from rāga-dveña, we know that he is a growing person. So growth in our life is becoming free from rāga-dveñas or reactions. Thus, it is when I become free from reactions that I am fit to become a renunciate, not otherwise. If I have a reacting mind, and I am a renunciate, then there is a big problem, because I do not have any means to fulfill my reactions and the reactions are all there. The impulses are all there. If they have not become quiet, the life of renunciation is a very wrong life to assume. Here, we have a person who has not become free from the impulses within, but has outwardly given up everything. However, just because you live the life of austerity, or self-denial, it does not mean that those desires or cravings are going to go away. They will go only as a result of mature living or mature thinking.

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Verse 17

Verse 17
This verse tells us of the means for mukti or liberation.

कुरुते गङ्गासागरगमनं व्रतपरिपालनमथवा दानम् ।
दानम् ज्ञानविहीनः सर्वमतेन मुक्तिं न भजति जन्मशतेन ॥ १७॥ var भजति न मुक्तिं
kurute gaṅgāsāgaragamanaṃ vrataparipālanamathavā dānam,
jïānavihinaḥ sarvamatena bhajati na muktiṃ janmaśatena.

One may go on pilgrimage, observe vows, and give away wealth in charity. Yet, devoid of the knowledge of the Self, nothing can give freedom even in a hundred lifetimes.

Jïānavihinaḥ sarvamatena bhajati na muktiṃ janmaśatena. The second line says, sarvamatena. This is the mata, or the opinion of all the scriptures, that jïānavihinaḥ, one who is devoid of jïānam, knowledge of the self, bhajati na muktim, will not be able to get mukti or liberation, janmaśatena, even in one hundred lives. We are not talking of a mundane person or a saṃsāri here, but of a very sincere seeker. Kurute gaṅgāsāgaragamanam, he goes on a pilgrimage to Gaṅgāsāgar. Gaṅgāsāgar is a place in Calcutta where the river Gaṅgā meets the ocean. It is a very holy place. This seeker could also be one who may go to the river Gaṅgā, and to the sāgara meaning ocean. Gaṅgā stands for the north, so he may go to Kāśi, the Himālayas or Rishikesh on pilgrimage. Sāgara stands for the south, meaning places like Rāmeśvaram. This just means that he may go to various places on pilgrimage.

The story of the Badrinath temple
Śrī Śaṅkarācārya is said to have gone to various places of pilgrimage like Badrinath, Kedarnath etc. You will find a story associated with Śrī Śaṅkarācārya in most of the temples of India. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya went to a number of temples on the way to Badrinath. At that time, many of these temples had become old, and the worship was not performed properly. There were also many distortions in the forms of worship, particularly in the worship of devī, in which a lot of sacrifices were being carried out. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya changed all this. He installed benign images of the devī, and installed the Śrī-cakra in the worship of the forms of devī. 

Badrinath is a temple of Lord Viṣṇu, where he is supposed to be doing penance. The rest of the kñetras in the Himālayas are Śiva kñetras. In Badrinath the Lord manifests as two ṛñis, Nara and Nārāyaṇa, and they are constantly doing penance. There are two mountains there, one called Nara and the other, Nārāyaṇa. What we have in the temple is a śāligrāma sila, or image. In this sila there is an image of Lord Nārāyaṇa seated in a meditative posture. It is supposed to be a very ancient temple. The temple is covered in snow for six months of the year. At that time, all human beings come away from there, and it is said that for those six months, the devatās perform the worship of the deity at the temple. This is the story. Enjoy it for what it is! It is said that the Buddhists went there and, being atheists, threw away the image of Nārāyaṇa into the river Ganges, which is called Alakānandā there. So the temple was without an image for a long time.

It is said that Śrī Śaṅkarācārya had a dream in which Lord Nārāyaṇa came to him and said, “ I am lying at the bottom of the river. Retrieve me and install me back in the temple.” So Śrī Śaṅkarācārya went to the Alakānandā, and took a dip in its waters. He retrieved the śāligrāma image of Lord Nārāyaṇa from the river and installed it back in the temple. It was then discovered that the image was khandita, or damaged. Of the four arms of Lord Nārāyaṇa, only two were clearly visible. The other two arms were broken, and this damaged idol could not be worshiped. Therefore, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya threw it back into the river. He is said to have had another dream in which he was told to reinstall the damaged idol, which he again did. Thus it is, that this is one temple where a damaged idol is worshiped.

It is said that Śrī Śaṅkarācārya installed a Namboodiri or priest from Kerala in Badrinath, and until today the tradition continues. Badrinath is in the northernmost corner of India and the priest who conducts the worship there is from the southernmost corner. In Nepal, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya installed a priest from Maharashtra to conduct the worship in the temple. This is what was done to bring about national integration in those days.

Pilgrimage unifies the people
The concept of a pilgrimage is a wonderful thing. In India, sightseeing is by way of pilgrimage. You go on a pilgrimage to Badrinath or Kedarnath, and the sightseeing of the Himālayas takes place. It is amazing how these temples are situated in very far away places. Sometimes they are in difficult places such as on the top of a mountain. While these days access to these places has become much easier, in the past, you really had to exert yourself in order to reach them. The custom of pilgrimage in India is widely prevalent. These pilgrims brought all the Indians together because people from all over India would visit these centers. Even though the language was different, and the dress and food were different, the culture was one. This was a unifying factor. People living in the south of India always aspired to visit the Gaṅgā, go to Benares or Kāśī, and have the darśan of Lord Śiva. They would carry with them a pot of water from the ocean, and pour that water upon Lord Śiva out there. The people living in the north, on the other hand, always aspired to go to the south. They would carry a pot of water from the Ganges, go down to Rāmeśvaram in the south, and pour that water on Lord Śiva there. This is how life was.

Pilgrimage is a process of self-purification
Pilgrimage formed a very important aspect of religious life. Even until 50 years ago, people had to walk two to three months to perform the pilgrimage to the four centers, Chardham, in the Himālayas (namely Gangotri, Yamunotri, Badrinath, and Kedarnath). In India, it is generally those who are retired and have nothing else to do that go on these pilgrimages. These people over the age of 55 or 60 do not have much strength to walk, but they undertake these pilgrimages which require walking on the mountains and suffering the cold etc. Those days, when such elderly people left on a pilgrimage we used to bid them goodbye. We never knew whether they would come back or not. They themselves did not know, and they were prepared. If their body dropped on the way to Badrinath or anywhere in the Himālayas, they were happy. If they came back after a few months, it was a miracle! Thus the pilgrimage tradition has been and an important form of worship.

When I went on a pilgrimage once, I was with a busload of people. We stopped in Srinagar for lunch. The Śrī Śaṅkarācārya of Badrinath was also in the same guesthouse on his way to Joshimath. We went and prostrated before him like all others. He asked us where we were going and we told him that we were on our way to Badrinath by bus. He told us that the real way to go on a pilgrimage is to go on foot. Nowadays, you can go to Badrinath from Rishikesh in one day. And one is not prepared for that, because Badrinath is at a height of about 10,000 ft. It is cold and uncomfortable. If you have come from the comparative comfort of Delhi, the first thought that comes to you is about when you can return. Before you go on this pilgrimage, you have to tune up physically. If you go on foot, it may take 15 or 20 days, during which you will slowly get acclimatized. You walk along the Ganges, constantly repeating the name of the Lord, constantly thinking about him and, therefore, your emotional fervor also rises. By the time you reach the temple, you are extremely eager to have the darśan of the Badrinath. On the way, you stop at all the holy places. You bathe in the Ganges every day. There are many ashrams, hermitages, along the way. There are many sādhus living there, and you have satsangs with them. There are also many temples and you can have darśan there. That is how the pilgrims used to be conducted in olden days. It is a process of self-purification. Austerities and penances formed the life of all householders. That is what is being mentioned here, in kurute gaṅgāsāgaragamanam.

Vows help cultivate willpower
Vrata paripālanam. People may observe a variety of vows. Fasting is very common and there are some people who are always on a fast! There are hardly days when they eat. They fast on Mondays, caturthī days, ekādaśī days, purṇimā days, in the month of śrāvana, and so on. This kind of vow is very common. What is a vow? It is a deliberate act of self-denial, that I will observe a fast; I will not eat, or I will eat once a day. This is how we cultivate our will power. When I fulfill that vow, vrata paripālanam, it gives me a certain satisfaction, and also increases the strength of my willpower. Merely observing a fast is not the vrata, of course. During the fast you use that time and energy in worship.

Gaining knowledge is the only means for freedom
Athavā dānam. Dānam is charity, giving to the people who are needy. These three observances, pilgrimage, vows, and charity, used to form the life of people. We are told here, that even if we were to do all of these things sincerely, if the effort is jïānavihinaḥ, without the knowledge, bhajati na muktiṃ janmaśatena, in spite of doing all of this even for a hundred lifetimes, one will not gain liberation or mukti. Liberation can only come about through jïānam or knowledge. The jïānavihinaḥ, one who is devoid of knowledge, cannot gain liberation even in a hundred lifetimes. This verse thus emphasizes the value or importance of knowledge. As we have seen earlier, the problem of bondage is not a legitimate problem. Bondage, or the sense of inadequacy, the sense of littleness, or sense of non-acceptance is an imaginary problem. It is a projected problem. What we call bondage is projected by the mind. In reality, the Self is free, but is still taken to be bound. It is taken to be limited because of aviveka or non-discrimination. This body or the mind which is not the Self is taken to be the Self. Therefore, there is constant suffering from a sense of mortality. I take myself to be a mortal being, subject to death, and so there is a constant fear of death. I take myself to be a limited being, and so there is an attempt to become big. I take myself to be a sad or unhappy person, and so there is an attempt to be happy. All of these notions arise on account of the identification with the body or with the mind. Therefore, the only solution to the problem of bondage is becoming free from that identification by recognizing the true nature of the Self.

The spiritual practices are necessary for self-purification, but are not sufficient 
You can gain a variety of siddhis and powers, but you cannot gain liberation unless you gain the knowledge of the Self, which is ever liberated. This verse says that the jïānavihinaḥ, one who is devoid of knowledge, will not be able to gain liberation merely by the spiritual practices even in one hundred lives! That does not mean that the spiritual practices do not have a place. All of this is required. It does not mean that for the pursuit of knowledge you need not observe any fasts, or need not have any values or discipline in life. It is not so. All of these spiritual practices are required for self-purification. Self-purification is an absolute requirement for gaining knowledge. However, mere purification is not an end in itself. These practices are all only the means, while the end is the gaining of the knowledge.

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Verse 18

Verse 18
In verse 18, we finally have the picture of a real renunciate. Earlier, we had seen renunciates who appeared to be renunciates, but were not. Here is the picture of one who is truly a renunciate.

रमंदिरतरुमूलनिवासः शय्या भूतलमजिनं वासः ।
सर्वपरिग्रहभोगत्यागः कस्य सुखं न करोति विरागः ॥ १८॥
sura mandira taru mūla nivāsaḥ śayyā bhūtala majinaṃ vāsaḥ,
sarva parigraha bhoga tyāgaḥ kasya sukhaṃ na karoti virāgaḥ.

Live in a temple or under a tree, wear the deer-skin for the dress, and sleep with mother earth as your bed. Renounce all your possessions and enjoyments. Blessed with such dispassion, could any fail to be happy?

Here is the picture of a wise man, a real ascetic or a real renunciate. He has no possessions. He does not have a house, and is constantly wandering from place to place. Which is his dwelling place? Where does he live? Sura mandira taru mūla nivāsaḥ. Taru means tree. Taru mūla nivāsaḥ, he lives under a tree. Sura mandira is a temple. He either lives in a temple or under a tree. He lives in public places because he has no place of his own.

We don’t require anything to be happy
We can imagine how the ideal of life in India is so opposed to the ideal of life in other places. In the US, for example, the ideal of life is to have an air conditioned six-bedroom house, with a three-car garage and wall-to-wall carpeting. The goal of life for the person who simply follows his sensuous requirements is maximum possessions and maximum comfort. Therefore, when you present this kind of a picture of an ascetic, people will ridicule you. “You don’t know how to live life. That is why you are living such a self-mortifying and unnatural way of life.” But in India, the picture of an ideal man is, sura mandira taru mūla nivāsaḥ, one who dwells under a tree or in a temple. He does not require his own dwelling place. Indeed, he is one who does not require any particular dwelling place.

The problem with us is that we not only require a dwelling place, but we require it to be ‘my’ dwelling place. Not only is a house required, but it has to be ‘my’ house. All kinds of comforts are required, the right softness of the mattress is required, or the right temperature is needed. I cannot fall asleep unless everything is perfect. This is because there are all kinds of anxieties and worries in my mind. This person can sleep anywhere, and does not require any particular creature comforts. Don’t pity him thinking that the poor fellow does not have anything. That is what they think about sannyāsīs.

We do not require any external security
When you take sannyāsa, people pity you, sympathize with you. Even your own parents sympathize with you. “What will happen to my child? He is going to suffer.” Some people privately ask me, “Swamiji, what happened to you? Why did you have to do this?” Why did I have to adopt such a strange way of life? We cannot imagine that the person can be happy in a mode of life other than what we are living in. Even one’s parents cannot imagine it. “Oh,

you won’t get married? What will happen to you? Who will look after you when you grow old?” Who knows who will take care of whom? We are so insecure that we always want to build all kinds of fences, all kinds of walls of security around ourselves. Very often, therefore, the institution of marriage, and having wealth and a house, is for the sake of security. This renunciate is a person who does not require any external security and, therefore, he can afford not to have a place that he can claim as his.

Renunciates grow out of the need for possessions
Sayyā bhūtalam, what is his bed? Bhū is earth and bhūtala is the surface of the earth. The earth is his bed. Ajinaṃ vāsaḥ, what kind of clothes does he have? Ajinam is the bark of a tree. This bark becomes his clothes. How can he live like that? Sarva parigraha bhoga tyāgaḥ. Parigraha is a possession. Sarva parigraha tyāgaḥ is one who has given up all possessions. I may give up possessions, but still I may not give up bhoga. I may not cook by myself, but I may make sure that they cook what I like when I go for bhikña. Does this renunciate have this kind of bhoga? No, he is a bhoga tyāgaḥ, one who has renounced all bhoga. 

In Vedanta, renunciation means growing out of the need for bhoga; it is not a giving up of bhoga. He has given up all his possessions. What do the possessions give me? Possessions give me a pride of possession, they also give me a certain sense of security. Suppose I feel secure with myself, then there is no need for possession. He has grown out of the need, or is free from the need for possessions. That is the reason why he does not possess anything.

A wise person is happy by himself
I need bhoga, a variety of enjoyments, good food, a comfortable dwelling etc. Why? I depend upon these things for my entertainment or the cheerfulness of my mind. Otherwise, I get bored. Here, this man does not require any external bhoga. Lord Kṛṣṇa describes a wise man as being ātmanyevātmanā tuñṭaḥ [Bhagavadgītā, 2-55], one who is tuñṭaḥ or happy with himself, and by himself. He has a different source of happiness altogether. Ordinary people seek sense objects and achievements, but here is a wise man who has tapped an unlimited fountain of happiness within his own heart. That is the reason why he does not have to depend on anyone else or anything else to be happy. It is a case of total self-acceptance or total self-liking. He has discovered the true nature of the Self, a self which is most acceptable or most lovable. Therefore, he has no need for bhoga or enjoyment, or for material pleasures. 

Many sādhus in Rishikesh deliberately renounce any kind of taste. They make sure that the food that they eat is without any taste, so that they will not get attached to any taste. When the sādhu goes for bhikña, all of it is collected in one bowl: ‘dal’, rice and ‘pāyasam’ or ‘kheer’. He then collects this bhikña in a bundle of cloth, goes to the Ganges and dips it in the water so that the food is wash off all the taste, and then eats it. This is a discipline. You don’t have to do it, but some do it. It is not easy to do it. It is bland food that you eat, so that you do not get addicted to any taste. Otherwise, there is an expectation of good food when you go for bhikña; there is always that hope in your mind, which is also undesirable. Sometimes, you don’t get any bhikña and then you get disappointed.

Here, we are talking about a person who does not require a particular taste. He is happy with whatever comes to him. It does not mean that he is incapable of enjoying food. He does relish it if it comes his way, but even if it does not, he is fine, yadṛcchālābhasantuñṭaḥ [Bhagavadgītā 4-22]. Yadṛcchā means Īśvara’s iccha, desire. He is truly content with whatever fate or prārabdha brings his way. As Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, sanjāte alam pratyayaḥ (source?) such a person has a constant sense of contentment or constant feeling of adequacy or sufficiency and is always happy. He is happy because that is his very nature. 

To discover happiness we have to purify our mind. To discover happiness in ourselves, all we have to do is to purify the mind. It is the impurities of the mind that deny me the happiness which is the nature of my own self. If there are a lot of impurities in the water of the lake, you are not able to see the lake-bed, but if you remove the dirt, the water becomes clear and the bed becomes visible to you. So also, the happiness of the self is comparable to the bed, upon which lies the mind, which is comparable to the lake. There are all kinds of impurities and disturbances in this mind as a result of which we are not able to experience happiness right now. That is the reason why, instead of running after bits and pieces of happiness in the outer world, it is better that we seek to remove the obstacles which deny us this happiness. These obstacles, which we call impurities, are our likes and dislikes, and reactions. These are the things which deny me the treasure in my own heart, and these reactions are compared to demons. They are the demons who rob me of the wealth which is my own self. Therefore we talk of values, e.g., becoming free from anger, free from greed, and free from reactions. The renunciate we see here is a person whose heart is pure, simple, transparent, and enlightened. Just as the water which is pure reflects what ever shining object there is, so also, the happiness of the self is always reflected in his heart. No deliberate effort is made to be happy because it is something spontaneous. So he is a spontaneously happy person.

Dispassion is developed by practicing karma yoga
Sarva parigraha bhoga tyāgaḥ. Tyāga means renunciation, but understand that the renunciate is one who has grown out of the need for any parigraha or any bhoga, need for any possessions or any enjoyment. This is an ideal person. Here, the ācāraya asks the question, kasya sukhaṃ na karoti virāgaḥ. For whom does virāga not bring any happiness? What is virāga? It means a state of freedom from rāga. Rāga, here, also includes dveña; therefore, in this context, it means attachment and aversion. Vigataḥ rāgaḥ yasmāt saḥ virāgaḥ, that from which all the attachments and aversions have gone away is virāga. Virāgasya bhāvaḥ or the state of virāgaḥ is called vairāgyam. So vairāgyam is a state of mind from which all the rāga-dveñas, or attachments and aversions have gone away. That is the reason why it should be the first attainment or siddhi that you should achieve. The Bhagavad Gītā teaches us how to do that through the practice of karma yoga. 

Through one’s duty, worshiping him from whom is the creation of the beings, by whom all this is pervaded, a human being gains success [Bhagavadgītā, 18-46].

Yataḥ pravṛttirbhūtānām, it is the Lord from whom this whole creation emerges, and by whom the whole creation is sustained, yena sarvamidaṃ tatam, and by whom the whole creation is pervaded and enlivened. The Lord is all-pervasive and of the nature of caitanya or consciousness; he is both the life of the creation and the very substance of the creation. Lord Kṛṣṇa teaches that by worshiping that Lord by my karma or actions, one attains siddhi or accomplishment, svakarmaṇā tamabhyarcya siddhiṃ vindati mānavaḥ. Therefore, the worshiping of God is the only means of purifying the heart. The worshiping of God means developing the idea of devotion and worship in my mind. It is that which purifies my heart. The ultimate purification subsequently comes through knowledge, by which the remaining impurity of ignorance is also removed.

Dispassion always brings happiness
The question here is kasya sukhaṃ na karoti virāgaḥ? For whom does virāgaḥ, dispassion, not bring happiness? Dispassion always brings happiness to everyone. The idea is that happiness is wherever dispassion is; there is unhappiness wherever passion is. Even in my day-to-day experiences, wherever I have a moment of happiness, I understand that I am enjoying a frame of mind where I am devoid of all the passions. We think that happiness comes because we get good food, or from a movie or some things like that. But really, happiness comes because at that moment my mind has become free from any kind of passion, from rāga or dveña. What the objects of the world are able to do is momentarily release my mind from rāga-dveñas, and what I enjoy is that state of mind. I might think that I am enjoying that food, but what I am really enjoying is my own mind, which has momentarily become devoid of rāga or dveña. This freedom from rāga-dveña, attachment and aversion, is called vairāgya.

Dispassion is not aversion
Very often people equate vairāgya with aversion, but aversion is not vairāgya. Aversion is only another form of attachment, a distorted attachment. Vairāgya is an aversion, which is opposed only to attachment. It doesn’t mean one does not like anything. Having vairāgya means that one is neither attached nor averse to anything.

Dispassion is not an action, but a state of mind
Vairāgya, like renunciation, is not an action. It is just a disposition of the mind. It arises on account of a healthy perception of the objects of the world. We all love vairāgya and we are all renunciates by nature. Our life can be looked upon as a life of constant renouncing. One way of looking at our life is to say that we are constantly acquiring; I acquire money, a house, a car etc. But another way of looking at life is to observe that we are constantly giving up something else. We can say that you have given up poverty, when you acquire money. Don’t say that you have acquired furniture, but that you have given up discomfort. When I acquire a car, I am giving up discomfort or my restricted mobility or my dependence on transportation. Really speaking, every moment that we acquire something, we are giving up something else. Are we acquirers, or are we renouncers? I would say that every one of us is a renouncer. So renunciation is something that we are doing every moment. But we have to learn what proper renunciation is. What we have to renounce is these rāga- dveñas, attachments and aversions, arising from aviveka, non-discrimination.

Discrimination leads to dispassion
From viveka arises vairāgya. We keep on discarding things from morning to evening. First thing in the morning, I sweep the house. All the dirt is gathered, and I discard that. While cooking, we peel off things from the vegetables and discard them. We keep discarding things. We discard things which we have discovered to be useless. As long as I think something is useful, I cannot give it up. The moment I discover it is not useful, I give it up. Here is the person who has discovered that nothing is necessary. To discover that you do not require anything, is total vairāgya. Kasya sukhaṃ na karoti virāgaḥ, to the extent that we discover a freedom from rāga-dveñas, to that extent we discover happiness in ourselves. Really, to be happy, you don’t need anything. For being wealthy, you require wealth, for being famous, you require fame, and for being powerful, you require power. For being happy, you don’t require anything. What do we require? We require just a mind which is free from rāga-dveña, a mind that is pure and transparent. We go about doing all things in our life without paying attention to the mind, and inadvertently keep on acquiring more and more impurities, more and more rāga-dveñas. On the other hand, a lifestyle which is designed to remove these rāga-dveñas becomes karma yoga. Whatever we do in our life, and whatever be our station in life, if we perform our actions in a manner that every action becomes a means of getting rid of these impurities, these rāga-dveñas, then every action becomes yoga. Every action becomes a means for leading us to happiness. Thus, kasya sukhaṃ na karoti virāgaḥ, for whom does virāgaḥ or dispassion not bring happiness?.

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Verse 19

Verse 19
This verse continues to give us a picture of the wise man.

योगरतो वा भोगरतो वा सङ्गरतो वा सङ्गविहीनः ।
यस्य ब्रह्मणि रमते चित्तं नन्दति नन्दति नन्दत्येव ॥ १९॥
yogarato vābhogaratovā saṅgarato vā saṅgavīhinaḥ,
yasya brahmaṇi ramate cittaṃ nandati nandati nandatyeva.

One may revel in yoga or pleasures; in the company of people or bereft of company. Only the one whose mind steadily delights in Brahman revels; indeed he alone is truly happy.

Nandati, he is happy. Nandatyeva, he alone is happy or he is always happy. He cannot but be happy. Who is he? Yasya brahmaṇi ramate cittam, or yasya cittaṃ brahmaṇi ramate. He is one whose cittam or mind dwells in Brahman, or one whose mind abides in the knowledge that the self is Brahman. The repetition of nandati three times suggests that he is happy at all times, in all places, and under all conditions. He is happy when awake, he is happy while in a dream, and he is also happy during deep sleep. He is happy when he does something, and he is happy even when he does not do something. It doesn’t matter where he is or what he does.

A wise person is happy in all circumstances
Yogarato vā, he may be reveling in yoga, bhogarato vā, or he may appear to be indulging in all kinds of pleasures. Whether he appears to be by himself, in samādhi or meditation, or appears to be indulging in all kinds of pleasures, he is happy. Saṅgarato vā, he may be found in the company of people, saṅgavīhinaḥ, he may be without the company of other people. He is happy whether in solitude or in the company of people.

This verse shows that it is not essential that the wise man necessarily be an austere person, or that he must necessarily be an active person, or even that he must live only in caves, or be on the banks of the Ganges. There is no presumption as to where he should be or how he should be. Very often, we associate some external appearance or form with wisdom, but it is not necessary that he must have a particular appearance or a particular lifestyle, or dwell in a particular place. The only qualification is that no matter where he is, his mind dwells on Brahman, in the knowledge that self is Brahman. The idea is that no condition can deny him the knowledge because Brahman is everywhere. The self alone is everything and, therefore, the self in yoga and the self in bhoga are the same self. It is the same Brahman outside and the same Brahman within. This is what Lord Kṛṣṇa teaches in the Bhagavad Gītā. What is this world? The world is nothing but the glory or vibhūti of the Lord.

The one who knows this glory of Mine and My connection with that in reality, he is endowed with unshaken vision. There is no doubt about this [Bhagavadgītā, 10-7].

Bhagavān says, etāṃ vibhūtiṃ yogaṃ ca, one who knows my vibhūti, glory, knows my nature and understands that the creation is nothing but the manifestation of my glory or that it is I alone who am both the manifest as well as the unmanifest. Saḥ, such a person yujyate, is always united with me, avikampena yogena, by the avikampa yoga or with the unshaken vision. He can never move away from me, because I am alone everywhere.

The Dṛk-dṛśya-vivekaḥ says,

Wherever the mind goes there occurs samādhi effortlessly when the identification with the body disappears and when the self is clearly known as Brahman [Dṛk-dṛśya-vivekaḥ, 30].

Dehābhimāne galite, when the identification of the body has gone away. Vijïāte paramātmani, when the self is known as paramātma. Yatra yatra mano yāti, tatra tatra samādhayaḥ, wherever the mind goes, there samādhi is.

The Vision of Oneness
In the vision of the Vedas, sarvam khalvidam brahma, whatever there is, is Brahman alone [Chāndogyopaniñad, 3-14-1]. This is something to be understood. It is not that I have to see Brahman. I have only to know that whatever I see is Brahman. The good, the bad, the right, the wrong, the ugly, the beautiful, whatever it is, is nothing but God. Here, God does not stand opposed to Satan or anybody. God alone is. What we call Satan, is also God. Whatever we call the good or the bad is the nature of the upādhi. Just as electricity alone manifests in and through various bulbs, so also, the one Brahman manifests through everybody and everything. The manifestation is different because the medium of manifestation is different, but what manifests is the same principle. One who knows Brahman does not have to do anything to abide in Brahman. He need not even close his eyes because even with eyes open, all he sees is Brahman alone. What is the nature of Brahman? It is satyam jïānam anantam, Existence-Consciousness-Limitlessness. Brahman is ananta, limitless, and therefore he is always happy. True happiness is for those who know the Self.

Relative happiness is also gained only by the one who has purified his heart. Running after the objects in search of happiness is a futile attempt. An intelligent man should work with his own mind to purify his mind of his rāga-dveñas, passions and impurities. To the extent that my heart is pure, to that extent I discover myself to be a happy person. Here, of course, his heart is totally pure because he has discovered his self to be Brahman. Therefore the verse says, nandati, nandati nandati eva.

Wisdom is not associated with any particular lifestyle
In the scriptures, we find all kinds of illustrations and references to the wise man. ‘Krishnobhogi, Sukhoyogi, Nrupaujanakarāghavavau karmanistāh vasiñṭhādhyāḥ’ (Attribution?). Lord Kṛṣṇa is seen as a bhogi. Can you imagine having 16,108 consorts? He always appears to be involved in pleasures.

Sukhoyogi refers to a great sage by the name of Sukhdev. He was a digambara, one who wore no clothes. He was also a wise man. King Janaka is said to have been a wise man and an illustrious king. Rāghava is Lord Rāma who was also a very wise king. Karmanistāh vasiñṭhādhyāḥ is sage Vasiñṭha and others like him who were wise and always engaged in performing rituals. As far as wisdom is concerned all of them are considered equal, but as far as their way of life is concerned we can see how each one is different. Therefore, we need not associate wisdom with any particular lifestyle.

Although the lifestyle of a renunciate may be more conducive and suitable for the purpose of pursuing knowledge, we need not believe that one must necessarily become a renunciate to do so. You can pursue knowledge, whatever be your station in life. Remember that renunciation is more a condition of the mind than any external arrangement. It is your perception and the disposition of your mind.

A wise person is happy at three levels
The ultimate happiness is only for the one whose mind dwells upon the Brahman, yasya brahmaṇi ramate cittaṃ nandati nandati nandatyeva. He alone is truly happy. Or you can say he is satisfied, he is happy and he alone rejoices. There are three levels of happiness. As Lord Kṛṣṇa says:

Whereas, for the person who would delight in the self, who is satisfied with the self, contented in the self alone, there is nothing to be done [Bhagavadgītā, 3-17].

Lord Kṛṣṇa describes the wise man as an ātmaratiḥ, one who revels in himself, an ātmatṛptaḥ, one who is satisfied with himself, and an ātmanyeva ca santuñṭaḥ, one who is content by himself. These are the three levels of happiness. To begin with, I am happy when I think of an object that I like. Then, I am more happy when I acquire that object. Finally, I am most happy when I enjoy that object. These different degrees of happiness are called rati, tṛpti, and santuñṭa. Thinking about something that you like, getting what you like, and enjoying what you like represents three increasing levels of happiness. For instance, when I think of my favorite dish that is going to be on my dinner table tonight, the very idea gives me happiness the whole day. When I reach home and smell the nice fragrance of my favorite dish, and then sit down to be served, my happiness is multiplied many times. When I taste the dish my happiness is complete. In much the same way, a wise man finds contentment in the happiness that he finds within himself. He is happy thinking about the self that is Brahman, he is satisfied with the self that is Brahman, and he revels in the self that is Brahma.


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Verse 20

Verse 20
This verse describes to us certain means for the attainment of this knowledge.

भगवद्गीता किञ्चिदधीता गङ्गाजललवकणिका पीता ।
सकृदपि येन मुरारिसमर्चा क्रियते तस्य यमेन न चर्चा ॥ २०॥
bhagavad gītā kiïcidadhītā gaṅgā jalalava kaṇikāpītā,
sakṛdapi yena murāri samarcā kriyate tasya yamena na carcā.

To the one who has studied the Bhagavadgītā even a little, who has sipped at least a drop of Ganges water, who has worshiped Lord Murāri at least once, there is no discussion with Yama, the Lord of Death.

Kriyate tasya yamena na carcā. Yama is the Lord of Death. Yamena carcā na kriyate, even the Lord of Death does not bother about such a person as is described here, tasya. This means that when the proper means are followed he is not afraid even of death; he goes beyond the realm of death. Bhagavadgītā is the text of the Bhagavad Gītā. Kincid means a little. Kiïcidadhītā, one by whom the Bhagavadgītā is studied even a little. Gaṅgājala, the water of the Ganges. Lava is a drop. Kaṇikāpītā, one by whom even a tiny drop of the Ganges has been sipped. 

Sakṛd means once, and api means even, so sakṛdapi means even once. Yena, by whom. Arcana means worship, and murāri means Lord Kṛṣṇa, murāri samarcā is the worship of Lord Kṛṣṇa. Mura was a demon, and ari means enemy. Lord Viṣṇu destroyed the demon Mura, so he is called Murāri. This refers to one who worships Lord Kṛṣṇa even once.

The study of the Bhagavadgītā is the first step to liberation
In this verse we see that in order to become free from death all one needs to have done is studied the Bhagavad Gītā a little, or taken a sip of the water of the Ganges, or performed the worship of Lord Kṛṣṇa even once. The study of the Bhagavad Gītā stands for the study of the scriptures. The Bhagavad Gītā is a sacred text, and is the essence of all the Upaniñads and the Vedas. The study of the Bhagavad Gītā or the study of Vedanta is the first step to liberation.

The sacred water of the Ganges also grants liberation. Most of us know the story of the Ganges. It is said that in the olden days, the river flowed in the heavens for the gods and was called Ākāsagaṅgā. It was brought down to flow on earth in order to give liberation to the sons of King Sagara, who were burned to death. According to the story, King Sagara, who had 60,000 sons, was performing the aśvamedha-yajïā. In that ritual, a horse was let loose to roam, and wherever it went became territory that had to be conquered by the king performing the yajïā. The king thus conquered each new territory, and the horse was ultimately sacrificed. It is said that whoever performs this yajïā 100 times will acquire the kingdom of the heavens and become the Indra.

King Sagara was performing his hundredth aśvamedha-yajïā and Indra was concerned that he would lose his position. Thus, he came in disguise and stole the horse. The 60,000 sons of Sagara were following the horse as an army to conquer the territory. The horse was gone and they were lost. They searched for it all over, but could not find it. They started digging through the earth and went to Pātāla, the nether land. Indra had stolen the horse and taken it to Pātāla,

where he had quietly left it in the hermitage of a sage called Kapila. The sage was in samādhi, but the horse was tied there in his hermitage. The sons of Sagara arrived at the hermitage and discovered the horse. Furious, they disturbed the sage and insulted him. Sage Kapila, who was stirred from his samādhi, realized that they were insulting him and was so angry that by his very glare, he burnt them to ashes. A big mountain of ashes was left there. King Sagara, worried about his sons, sent some people in search of them. Ultimately they came down to Pātāla, and found the mountain of ashes. They asked sage Kapila, and he told them the whole story. “What do we do? The sons of Sagara have met with an unfortunate death and will therefore go to hell. How can we save them?” Sage Kapila advised them, “If you bring Gaṅgā down from the heavens onto the earth, the water will purify the ashes and all of them will be liberated and go to heaven”. Gaṅgā had thus to be brought down from the heavens. King Sagara himself, leaving his kingdom to his grandson, Aṃśuman went to the forest and performed a great penance. However, he died before he could fulfill the task. After him, his son carried on the mission, but he also did not succeed. King Sagara’s grandson also tried, but again, without success. In the fourth generation after King Sagara, Bhagīratha, his great-grandson, went to the forest and performed a severe penance. Even today, when a very difficult task is to be performed, it is called ‘Bhagīratha-kārya’. He performed a penance beyond imagination, by which he was able to please Brahmāji, the creator.

Brahmāji asked him what he wanted. “I want the Ganges to come down to the earth.” “Very well. The Ganges will come to the earth alright, but she will come down with such a tremendous force that the earth will be completely crushed and destroyed. Therefore you require someone to bear the force of the falling Ganges.” “Who can do that?” “Only Lord Śiva can do that.”

The story of Gaṅgā
Bhagīratha performed another penance to please Lord Śiva. Lord Śiva was pleased and asked him, “What do you want?” “I want you to receive the flow of the Ganges when she comes down to the earth.” Lord Śiva agreed, and then the Ganges was invited to drop from the heavens to the earth. Gaṅgā was very proud and arrogant. “Who is there that can sustain my flow or bear my weight? Let me see how Lord Śiva does it.” With this pride, she began to flow down onto the matted locks of Lord Śiva. He knew her arrogance. She got lost in the matted locks and could not come out. Bhagīratha waited for the Ganges to come down, but no water emerged. “What happened?” “She is arrogant, and has to pay the price.” “She may pay the price, but I have to pay the price also.” Bhagīratha again prayed to Lord Śiva to show kindness and release the Ganges. Lord Śiva then released a small stream, which is called the Ganges today. Wherever there is Lord Śiva, we always see a small stream. Even on the head of the idol of Lord Dakñiṇāmūrti, we see a tiny maiden who stands for the Gaṅgā. The Gaṅgā came down, but she was still very proud, full of energy and surging down, without any consideration to where she was flowing. The plan was for Bhagīratha to ride a chariot, and the Gaṅgā to follow him. They came along the hermitage of a sage called Jahnu. He was a king who was living in a hermitage performing yajïās, and the reckless Ganges that was flowing without concern for anybody flooded the hermitage of sage Jahnu. He was so angry with her that he drank up the waters of the river. Bhagīratha, who was going ahead, looked back to discover that the Ganges had disappeared! He came back and pleaded with the sage Jahnu to release the Gaṅgā. It is said that Jahnu released her from his ears, and that is why she is called Jāhnavi. The yātra then proceeded without any further difficulties. Gaṅgā followed Bhagīratha to the hermitage of sage Kapila in Pātāla, and all the ashes were sanctified. All the sons of Sagara were finally released. That is how the ocean, sāgara, was formed. It is called sāgara because the sons of Sagara dug it. The Ganges filled the ocean completely. It is because of the Gaṅgā that the ocean has all this water. Whenever Gaṅgā is mentioned, all of this is understood to be mentioned.

Gaṅgā represents the flow of knowledge
What does Gaṅgā symbolize? Gaṅgā was released from the head of Lord Śiva and, therefore, represents the flow of knowledge. The Lord is the very first teacher from whom the knowledge has come down to us.

I salute the lineage of teachers, beginning with the ever auspicious Lord Śiva, linked by Ādi Śaṅkarācārya in the middle and extending up to my own teacher.

I salute the guru parampara, all the teachers in this tradition, which began with Lord Śiva. Śrī Śaṅkarācārya is the central link in this lineage, which continues down to our own teachers. Therefore, the Ganges symbolizes the perennial flow of the knowledge from the Lord right up to our own teachers. The Ganges originates in the Himālayās. The Himālayās are the abode of Lord Śiva who resides on mount Kailasa. The Himālayās are also the place where the ṛñis have always lived and continue to live. The re-emergence of the Ganges from the ears of sage Jahnu represents the karṇa-parampara, the tradition of oral instruction. This knowledge is imparted orally by the teacher to the student. All of this is symbolized by the story of the Ganges. 

Gaṅgā also represents sanctity
Symbolism apart, there actually is a river that flows in the plains of Northern India called the Ganges, which is considered to be the most sacred river in India. It is said that taking one dip in the river Ganges releases you from all sins. Of course, it is a matter of faith. If you have that faith, you will be released from all your sins. All of this is described in the Gaṅgā stotram. Tava cen mātaḥ, śrotaḥ snātaḥ punarapi jathare sopi na jātaḥ [Gaṅgāstotram, 7], oh mother, when someone takes a dip in your stream, he does not have to be born again in the womb of the mother. The Ganges is thus the most sacred river. It signifies the flow of knowledge and represents a great sanctity.

Three essentials of spiritual pursuit
There are three aspects in the spiritual pursuit: knowledge, devotion, and action. All three are symbolically represented in this verse. The study of the Bhagavad Gītā is the pursuit of knowledge performed by our intellect. It offers both the vision of life, and the way of life. It tells us what the goal of life is, and the path or sādhanam to be followed in order to attain that goal.

Bhakti or devotion is the second requirement in one’s spiritual pursuit. Sipping the water of the Ganges represents devotion. The Ganges also represents pilgrimage. In order to sip the water of the Ganges, you must live there, so it represents dwelling on the banks of the river and living a life of austerity and penance.

There was a great saint in India, by the name of Tulasidas. He compares the great sages to the most important of pilgrim centers, Prayaga. There is a confluence of the two holy rivers, Gaṅgā and Yamuna at Prayaga. It is said that there is a third river flowing underneath, called Saraswati, which is not visible. This place is called triveni sangama, the confluence of three holy rivers. Therefore, Prayaga is considered to be one of the holiest places in India. Tulsidas says that the great sages are also Prayaga, a wandering or traveling Prayaga. He says that a sage represents the confluence of the three qualities that the three rivers symbolize. Saraswati, as we all know, is the goddess of knowledge. Gaṅgā, according to Tulsidas, represents bhakti or devotion, and Yamunā represents karma or action. We find all the three in mahātmās; we find the knowledge or wisdom in them, we find in their heart, great devotion, and we find in their life, the right action. Thus, there is a confluence of wisdom, devotion, and action in the mahātmās. Tulsidas says that while you have to undertake a difficult journey to reach the pilgrimage center of Prayaga, you don’t have to go anywhere to see the saints. The saints themselves come to you.

The third aspect of spiritual pursuit is karma, action. The worship of the Lord represents action. What is the means of worshiping the Lord? Let every action become a means for worship of the Lord, svakarmaṇā tamabhyarcya siddhiṃ vindati mānavaḥ [Bhagavadgītā, 18-46]. We may worship the Lord through our actions. Archana in worship is when you utter the name of the Lord and offer a flower each time. But Lord Kṛṣṇa says, let all your actions become the archana.

Let every action be a flower. Remember the name of the Lord and offer every action at his feet. Thus, the performance of our day-to-day actions also becomes a worship of the Lord when these actions are performed in that spirit.

In this verse, the worship of Lord Murāri can be said to be karma, the sipping of the water of the Ganges can be seen to symbolize devotion, and the study of the Bhagavad Gītā can be understood to represent the aspect of jïāna, or the pursuit of knowledge. 

A person who pursues knowledge, devotion, and right action is liberated
Lord Yama is the great controller. He determines a person’s lot depending on the kind of karma that the person has performed, and dispenses justice accordingly. In this verse, we are told that when there is a confluence of all three aspects in a person i.e., knowledge, devotion, and the right action, the Lord of death is never going to bother him. This conveys the meaning that such a person gains knowledge and becomes free from the cycle of birth and death.

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Verse 21

Verse 21
This is a beautiful verse that talks of prayer.

पुनरपि जननं पुनरपि मरणं पुनरपि जननीजठरे शयनम् ।
शयनम् इह संसारे बहुदुस्तारे कृपयाऽपारे पाहि मुरारे ॥ २१॥
punarapi jananaṃ punarapi maraṇaṃ punarapi jananī jaṭhare śayanam,
iha saṃsāre bahudustāre kṛpayā’pāre pāhi murāre.

Being born again, dying again, and again lying in the mother’s womb; this saṃsāra is extremely difficult to cross over. Save me, O destroyer of Mura, through your infinite compassion.

This first line, punarapi jananaṃ punarapi maraṇam, describes the process of saṃsāra. Punaḥ is again, jananam is birth. Punarapi jananam means being born again, punarapi maraṇam means dying again. Punarapi jananī jaṭhare śayanam, sleeping again in the womb of the mother. 

Śayanam is lying. Saṃsāra is a cyclic process of birth and death amid a lot of pain 
Saṃsāra is nothing but a repeated process of birth and death. Why does this cycle go on? It is because what I am pursuing or seeking is not fulfilled in the journey of this lifetime. Naturally, then, when I die, there are unfulfilled desires in my heart, and those unfulfilled desires make me take another birth in a suitable environment so that I can fulfill my desires. If, again, the desires are not fulfilled, the journey is not concluded in that embodiment and I give it up only to acquire yet another new embodiment. This is the reason we talk of the process of repeated births and deaths. It is because a man is born incomplete and he dies incomplete as well. The journey goes on till a total fulfillment is gained. The description of this cyclic process also represents the pain and suffering that we constantly go through in life because birth and death are also extremely painful. In between, of course, there is old age, there is disease, and all kinds of other afflictions. Thus, there is constant pain. As Pujya Swami Dayanandaji points out, the nature of life is ‘duḥkham-duḥkham-sukham-duḥkham-duḥkham’; a little pleasure preceded by a lot of pain and followed by a lot of pain. If there were not even that little pleasure, we would not survive.

There is a story in the Yogavāsiñṭa, which illustrates this. A man was being chased by a tiger and was running for his life. He found a well and, not knowing where to go, plunged into it. Fortunately for him, some roots of a tree had grown through the wall in the middle of the well. He grabbed hold of the roots and managed not to fall into the water. As he hung there, he looked up and saw the tiger. He looked down, and below him was a snake in the water, waiting for him. Then he saw that there were two rats among the roots. The rats were gnawing away at the very root from which he was hanging. At that time, there was a honeycomb on a tree above the well, from which honey was dripping slowly. The story goes, that this fellow who was hanging for dear life, stretched out to catch a falling drop of honey in his mouth. Thus, even in the midst of tremendous fear, this little drop of honey caused him to go on. Such pessimistic pictures are given only in order to make us understand certain realities of life. 

Pain of saṃsāra should incite us to come out of it 
We are preoccupied and sometimes don’t realize how our life is constantly filled with struggle, pain, and sorrow. Everybody thinks that their life is sorrowful, but the truth is that they have not observed others’ lives. God has made no exception. There is a reason why there is pain and suffering in this life. It is so that some day we will have an incentive to get out of this business. If it were not so, we would remain stuck in this life. Therefore, the ācārya is saying, what a pity it is, lying again in the womb of the mother, being born again and dying again. There is only pain, all along. When will this end? Iha saṃsāre bahudustāre apāre. Saṃsāra, as we said earlier, is a sequence of birth and death. It is compared to an ocean. It is dustāra, extremely difficult to cross. Tru means to cross. Pāram means shore. Apāra is that which has no shore. This saṃsāra is described as being an ocean, which has no shore and is extremely difficult to cross. Not only are there waves that buffet and assault, but also aquatic creatures, which attack. Thus do we struggle in this life. There is no end to this kind of saṃsāra.

Seek the Lord’s help to get out of saṃsāra
This verse represents the prayer of the devotee, kṛpayā apāre pāhi murāre. Murāri is Lord Kṛṣṇa or Lord Nārāyaṇa, the ari, enemy, of the demon Mura. Mura stands for the ego. The only one who can destroy that demon is Lord Kṛṣṇa. The prayer is, hey Murāri, Oh Lord, oh enemy of the ego, pāhi, please protect me. I am drowning in this ocean of saṃsāra, totally helpless, and being attacked from all directions by various forces. I see no end to it and do not know how to cross it. Therefore, hey Murāri, oh lord, please save me, kṛpayā, by your grace, by your kindness. Please shower your compassion, your grace upon me, and raise me out of saṃsāra. This is a very important part of one’s spiritual pursuit that is recognized at some point in time, due to one’s own inabilities or helplessness.

We need to overcome our inner enemies
Very often, we find that we are helpless against our own inner difficulties, our own inner urges, passions, or reactions. We find that these enemies have entered our heart, which at the moment is ruled by the demons. Who are the demons? They are subsequently mentioned to be kāma, lust, krodha, anger, lobha, miserliness, moha, delusion, mada, pride or arrogance, and mātsarya, jealousy. Thus, the demons of lust, anger, jealousy, pride, arrogance, resentment etc. are ruling my heart and there is no room for God. The devatās that inhabit my heart have disappeared. We read in the purāṇas, stories of constant struggles between the devas and the asuras in which the asuras often win the battle and the devas are driven away from the heavens. The poor devas then go to the Lord seeking his intervention. The Lord comes to their help, the asuras are driven back and the devas regain the kingdom of heavens. My heart is comparable to the heavens, and should really be inhabited by the devas, but what do I find? It is conquered by these demons instead, and unfortunately, I cannot do anything about it. I just can’t help it. All these reactions and passions take hold of me, and I find myself helpless. When there is helplessness, there is prayer. It is said that when there is prayer, the Lord definitely comes and saves you.

There are many examples of these prayers in our purāṇas. One famous story is the gaja-graha story. Gaja is elephant, graha means crocodile. It is the story of the great elephant devotee Gajendra. Gajendra was once sporting in the waters of a lake when a huge crocodile came along and caught hold of one of his legs and started pulling him down into the water. The elephant was powerful and started to pull away towards the shore, but the crocodile had a strong hold and continued to drag him down. The struggle went on until the elephant started losing his power. He was slowly becoming weaker, and the crocodile was becoming stronger. The elephant began to drown and as the water started rising, he realized that he could not save himself in this struggle. It was at this time that he called out to the Lord. Hey Govinda! Hey Gopala! Please come along and save me. It is said that even as he uttered the word Govinda, Lord Kṛṣṇa appeared on his vehicle, Garuda. He killed the crocodile with his śaṅkha and chakra, and saved Gajendra. This story, called gaja-graha, is the story of our life. This kind of a battle is constantly going on in our own heart, between our noble tendencies and our demonic tendencies. As long as we think that we are strong enough, we keep on fighting or struggling in our life. When we find that we are indeed helpless, we seek the help of the Lord.

Prayer is essential to overcome helplessness
Here, the devotee says, I am helpless, Oh Lord, in this battle of saṃsāra. I find that I cannot conquer my own inner passions or my own inner enemies. I have become a slave to my own passions. They have now become very powerful. Prayer is therefore a very important aspect of spiritual pursuit and, for that matter, any pursuit. As we become more sensitive, we realize the importance of prayer. Generally, we do not even know that these demons are there within ourselves. We think that anger is a good thing to have, and that it is good to have passion. That is why we have invited all these things in our life and they have now become very powerful. When I study Vedanta I gain an understanding of the values of life, and then realize that these are the wrong things to have, that these are obstacles. These are the demons that actually deprive me of my own dignity, of my own knowledge and happiness. Now, when I want to get rid of them, I find that I am helpless. That is when I pray to the Lord and seek his help.

Seeking the help of the Lord and getting strength is very important because we find ourselves weak and falling. Even though I have made a resolve not to come under the influence of anger, lust, and so forth, I still find that I come under their spell again and again. I can’t resist those temptations. For example, I do not want to eat any sweets, but the candies in the bowl are very tempting, and I pick one up and put it in my mouth. Even while putting it in my mouth, I know that I am doing something wrong, but I cannot resist the strong temptation. We constantly find that we cannot resist such strong temptations and the only one who can help is God. Therefore pray to the lord, iha saṃsāre bahudustāre kṛpayā’pāre pāhi murāre. Oh, enemy of the demon Mura, please save me from this ocean of saṃsāra.

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Verse 22

Verse 22
This is a description of a yogi, a wise man. Here, as also earlier in verse 18, we have a beautiful description of a wise man, a renunciate.

रथ्याचर्पटविरचितकन्थः पुण्यापुण्यविवर्जितपन्थः ।
योगी योगनियोजितचित्तो रमते बालोन्मत्तवदेव ॥ २२॥
rathyā carpaṭa viracita kanthaḥ puṇyāpuṇya vivarjita panthaḥ,
yogī yoganiyojita citto ramate bālonmattavadeva.

The yogi who wears but a quilt made of rags, who walks the path that is beyond merit and demerit, whose mind is joined in perfect yoga with its goal, revels in God consciousness, and lives thereafter as a child or as a madman.

A wise person does not make any demands
Kantha means quilt. This person has covered his body with a quilt to protect it from the heat or the cold. Viracita, what is the quilt made of? Rathyā carpaṭa. Rathyaa means street and carpaṭa means rags. Rathyā carpaṭa viracita kanthaḥ, the quilt is made of rags that are picked up off the streets. Some mahātmas do this even today in Rishikesh. They don’t have clothes that are rags, but then they have a quilt or some kind of a multi-colored quilt or a shawl made of the rags that are picked up from the streets. That the wise man covers his body this way is a figurative way of saying that he has no possessions and thus does not make any demands. An important aspect of the wise man is that by wisdom, as he discovers fulfillment from within himself, he becomes a non demanding person. He then makes no demands whatsoever. He does not demand food, nor does he demand clothes or anything. He is happy with whatever comes his way. 

Yadṛcchālābhasantuñṭaḥ, he is happy with whatever is the lābha or gain that comes by prārabdha or destiny [Bhagavadgītā 4-22].

A wise person is free from the sense of doership
He is walking along a path, panthaḥ. What kind of path is it? A path that is devoid of, vivarjita, merit and demerit or virtue and vice, puṇya apuṇya. In his wisdom, a yogī walks along a path that is beyond both virtue and vice. A wise man thus walks along a path that is beyond all pāpa and puṇya. He does not perform any puṇya or pāpa. His actions can neither be classified as puṇya nor as pāpa. Why? Puṇya and pāpa are there only when there is an ego or a sense of doership behind an action. When I have the notion that I am performing the action, when the ego or the sense of doership is there, the action can be classified as virtue or vice. This is because there is an order in the universe, there is dharma or adharma. An action performed in keeping with that order is called dharma or puṇya, and an action that is performed in violation of that order is called adharma or pāpa. However, this puṇya and pāpa are there only for those who have a sense of doership. A wise man is one who has become free from the sense of doership. No more is the ego saying, I am the performer of the action.

Action just gets performed without any ego or the sense of doership. So it is said that he is beyond puṇya and pāpa. It also means that he is not obliged to follow the rules and regulations. You and I are obliged to follow the code of conduct that we must perform in keeping with a code of conduct, but the wise man here does not have any code of conduct at all. His actions are not bound by any code of conduct as enjoined by the scriptures because he no more has any sense of ego or a sense of doership. Therefore it says, he is walking on a path which is beyond puṇya and pāpa.

A wise person’s mind is always united with the Truth
He is a yoganiyojita cittah, one whose cittaḥ or mind is niyojita, focused upon yoga, one whose mind is focused upon the Lord, and one who abides in the knowledge of the Self. Who is a yogi? He is one whose citta or mind is wedded to the Truth or whose mind is focused upon the Self. Ramate, he always sports. Earlier, his state of mind was said to be nandati nandati nandateva, and here it is described as being ramate. He is always happy.

A wise person lives in the present
Ramate bālonmattavadeva. Ramate, he sports or he revels like a child, bāla. Unmatta means like a mad man. Bālonmattavadeva, like a child, or like a madman or one who is intoxicated. This wise man is not childish, but childlike. He is not mad, but like a mad man. He is not intoxicated, but like one who is. Intoxicated with what? Intoxicated with the happiness in his own heart. The joy is constantly springing like a fountain from his heart and therefore, he is

intoxicated with that joy. Like a child, he is free from all worries and anxieties. In a child’s mind, there is neither a carryover of the past, nor any worry about the future. Children are innocent and always live in the present. So also is this wise man not worried about the past or carrying any burden from the past. The past is left where it is, because he has no concern about it. He is also not worried about or interested in the future. Whatever the future brings is fine. He lives in the present like a child, innocent and free from all likes and dislikes.

Just as you cannot say that a madman is doing either right or wrong because he does not conform to the same code of conduct that we do, so also, the actions of a wise man cannot be classified as either right or wrong. He is spontaneously good because all his actions are in keeping with the order. It is not that a wise man has a license to do whatever he likes, but we do not judge his actions because he functions from a perception of life to which ordinary people do not have an entry.

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Verse 23

Verse 23
In this verse, the method of enquiry or questioning is being given to us, which again has been discussed in earlier verses.

कस्त्वं कोऽहं कुत आयातः का मे जननी को मे तातः ।
इति परिभावय सर्वमसारम् विश्वं त्यक्त्वा स्वप्नविचारम् ॥स्वप्नविचारम् २३॥
kastvaṃ ko’haṃ kuta āyātaḥ kā me jananī ko me tātaḥ,
iti paribhāvaya sarvamasāram viśvaṃ tyaktvā svapna vicāram.

Who are you? Who am I? Where did I come from? Who is my mother? Who is my father? Thus enquire, leaving aside the entire world of experience, essence-less, and a mere dreamland, born of imagination.

Iti, in this manner may you contemplate or enquire, paribhāvaya. Kastvam, who are you? Ko’ham, who am I? Kuta āyātaḥ, from where have I come? Kā me jananī, who is my mother? Ko me tātaḥ, who is my father? It is not the name of your father or mother that is asked here. Instead, our attention is being drawn to asking these fundamental questions of ourselves.


We all live in a world of notions
May you focus your attention on these fundamental questions of life. Who am I? I am ‘so and so’, or son of ‘so and so’. Is this really who I am? When I say that I am ‘so and so’, it means that I identify with the body. The name belongs to the body. The relationship between parent and child is also at the level of the body. Then what is the true nature of one whom I call my father? What is the true nature of the one whom I call my mother? What is the true nature of the one, whom I call ‘me’? Also, what is the true nature of the one I call ‘you’? Who is this ‘you’? Who is this ‘I’? We go on with our life without an understanding of this. I imagine that I know you, and I imagine that I know myself. We interact with one another without a proper knowledge of who we really are. When I do not know who I am, I have a notion regarding my own self, and when I don’t know who you are, I have another notion regarding yourself. Thus, all this vyavahāra or interaction is constantly going on in a world of notions. Each one is living in the midst of his or her own notions and dreams!

As we said earlier, it is like children playing a make-believe household game. Someone becomes the mother, someone becomes the father, someone becomes the son, and someone becomes the teacher, and thus they play this game. The idea of the mother, father etc. is totally superimposed and purely in the realm of the imagination. The game of our life is something similar because all these ideas are again, superimposed. That I take myself to be an individual and that I take you to be another individual is the superimposition because it is entirely imaginary. I am not what I take myself to be.

Svapna vicāram. Here the teacher is pointing out that you are living in a dream world of dream. You are not really living in reality. Even the reality about you is different from what you take it to be. There is a famous example from the stories of the life of Śrī Śaṅkarācārya himself. It is said that once, early in the morning, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya was passing along the narrow streets of Benares on his way to the Śiva temple after his ablutions. As is the custom, having had his bath in the Ganges and purified himself, he was carrying water from the Ganges in his kamandalu for abhiseka to the Lord Viśvanātha. At that time, he found a street sweeper in his path, blocking the way. Sweepers are the so-called low caste or untouchable people. The ācārya could not proceed on his way and so out of habit he said, gaccha gaccha, clear out, clear out. Before complying with the command to move away, that sweeper confronted the ācārya and asked him, “Oh dvijavara, the most revered one among the wise, you are asking me to move away from your path. Very well, but before I move away, please clarify one thing. What is it that you are asking me to move away from? From what should I move away?”

Are you asking this lump of food to move away from what is but another lump of food? Or are you saying that I, who am conscious, should move away from you, who are also conscious? (Manīñāpaïcakam, 1). “Are you trying to say that you are just this body, which is a bundle of food, and that I am also this body, another bundle of food? Just clarify this, and then I will move away.” Śrī Śaṅkarācārya was stunned, and realized that it was no ordinary sweeper; he was someone else. He immediately prostrated before the sweeper, and it turned out that the sweeper was none other than Lord Śiva himself, who had come in this form.

Enquire into your true nature
The question is, koham, who am I? Am I just this body, which is a modification of food? Or am I the sense organs, the instruments of perception? Or am I the mind? Who am I? Am I someone who is different from all of them? I take myself to be the body or I take myself to be the mind, and I take myself to be an emotional being, or an intellectual being. Is that what I really am? Iti paribhāvaya, please ponder upon this question. Similarly, kāme jananī, who is my mother? Is this body all that my mother is? Ko me tātaḥ, who is my father? Is this body all that my father is? Understand that there is a different dimension to you. You are this body alright, but you are not merely confined to this body. As long as you think that you are this body, so long will you never be able to think of or know that other dimension. Thus, the teacher is asking us to recognize that we take ourselves to be merely small individuals, and naturally, we do not know who we are. Therefore, we are living in an imaginary world. That we take this person to be our father, meaning that that person has another body, is one more aspect of our imagination, and that we take all other people as nothing more than the body, mind, or personality, is yet another aspect.

All of this is svapna vicāra, this dream-like world. Viśvam tyaktvā, give this up, give up this entire world of imagination. However, you can’t give up the world. Where will you go? You can only go from one place in the world to another place. Therefore, giving up does not mean going away to some place. It means giving up this viśva, this world of imagination that you are living in. Understand that all these relationships are merely based on this body and this personality without taking into account the very essence of the person behind the personality. It is saṃsāra, and it is asāra, without essence. Saṃsāra is samyak sāra, that which is all essence, but it is asāra, essence-less. Therefore, having given up this essence-less interaction called saṃsāra, which is comparable to the dream, dwell upon these realities of life, the fundamentals of life, to become free. Unless we start to enquire, there is no way that we can become free, because what is in fact unreal, imaginary, or comparable to a dream, is taken by us to be real. As long as an unreal thing is taken to be real, there is no way that you can get release from it, and therefore, enquire into the realities of life – realities about yourself, and all that you come across. Recognize that everything has a different dimension. Recognize that dimension alone to know yourself and to know other things.

We are too preoccupied with our day-to-day problems
When can I enquire into the realities of life? When do I have the leisure or poise to dwell upon these questions? I can do so only when my mind is free from other preoccupations. I am not able to contemplate these fundamental things because my mind is too preoccupied with the mundane concerns of what will happen, what will not happen, what to achieve, what not to achieve, success, failure etc. Our mind needs to be free of these superficial issues, which now occupy our attention completely, for it to enjoy the leisure to dwell upon the more essential issues of life. There is no doubt that our day-to-day life has a certain reality and importance, and we do need to accord it the importance that it deserves. However, we are giving much more reality to these concerns than they actually deserve; our very existence seems to be focused entirely upon that as though nothing else exists in life. The teacher points out that life has certain other dimensions. The ocean appears to be stormy on the surface. Yet, under the surface of the ocean, there is a profound silence, which remains unperceived and inaccessible to us because of the waves and storms on the surface. Similarly, the important questions of life remain unaddressed because our mind is totally preoccupied with superficial issues. We must understand that the problems of the father, mother, past or future, wealth, name, fame, and security have a certain reality, and human birth is taken to address these important problems. However, this reality does not endure beyond the surface. In and through these apparent problems, there is something fundamental that you have to address – the truth of who I am, and who you are.

We take things for granted
Unless I understand who I am, how can this vyavahāra be clear? The way in which I interact with the world or respond to the world is determined by how I perceive myself, and how I perceive the world. If I perceive someone as a brother, I respond in a certain way. If I perceive him as a friend, I respond in a certain other way. If I perceive him as a stranger, my response is going to be different. Then again, if I perceive myself as good, my response is different. Therefore, what determines my responses and interactions, and indeed, my life, is my perception of myself, and my perception of everything in this world. This perception is taken for granted. I never stop to question whether what I take for granted about myself and what I take for granted about the world would stand up to inquiry or not? I have never stopped to scrutinize this fundamental assumption on my part.

Study Vedanta, meditate upon the realities of life
Our life is based on certain fundamental assumptions, like science is based on certain fundamental principles. What are those assumptions? I am ‘so and so’, you are ‘so and so’, the world is ‘such and such’, and god is ‘such and such’. All of us have preconceived notions about who I am, what the nature of the world is, whether God is there or not, who God is, and how he is. Therefore, the way we perceive the objects in our life, the way we respond to all of these objects, and the way we live our life is determined by these preconceived ideas or notions. Vedanta draws our attention to these notions or assumptions. Koham, who am I? I take myself to be an individual being, a small, little, insignificant creature. Is that what I really am? I may be insignificant from one standpoint. Yes, this body is an insignificant thing; this mind is also an insignificant thing. Therefore, my achievements and accomplishments can only be classified as insignificant. But, is that all I am? Or is there something else about me? Iti paribhāvaya, may you thus enquire. Study Vedanta. Expose yourself to the teaching of Vedanta which draws our attention to this. Thus, first come to terms with your own self. This will enable you to come to terms with the world. Determine whether or not your assumptions are right. When you have examined this, go ahead and do whatever you have to do in life. We plunge into life without knowing what life is all about or without worrying about who I am and what the nature of the world is. Therefore, may you take time to enquire.

When can I take the time to enquire? When I take time out; when I go on the sidelines, like Arjuna. He requested the Lord, his charioteer, to place his chariot between the two armies so that he could detach himself from both sides and objectively review his situation. We also need to enquire into our own life objectively and dispassionately, and review our own assumptions and notions. We can do that when we have some leisure in our life. Step aside from this life for some time. It doesn’t mean that you reject this life. It means giving yourself some time. As a part of your daily routine, plan to spend some time by yourself when you can contemplate, and when you can enjoy a certain freedom or relaxation from the worries and anxieties of the day. During this time, focus your attention on these problems and contemplate on these realities. That is what we call meditation. Meditation is not just closing the eyes and sitting idle or focusing on your breathing. Meditation is this kind of an inquiry. It includes focusing your attention on these basic problems of life.

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Verse 24

Verse 24
The discussion continues in this verse. When the teacher keeps on reiterating a certain point, every Vedantic lecture may appear to be the same. Similarly, all Upanishads say the same thing. However, we want to be told of something else, we want to know something different. Sometimes we feel a little impatient because nothing seems to be happening and we feel that we are not progressing. The teacher addresses such impatience in the student.

त्वयि मयि चान्यत्रैको विष्णु-विष्णु र्व्यर्थं कुप्यसि मय्यसहिष्णुः ।
भव समचित्तः सर्वत्र त्वं वाञ्छस्यचिराद्यदि विष्णुत्वम् ॥विष्णुत्वम् २४॥
tvayi mayi cānyatraiko viñṇuḥ vyarthaṃ kupyasi mayyasahiñṇuḥ,
bhava samacittaḥ sarvatra tvaṃ vāïchasyacirādyadi viñṇutvam.

In you, in me, and in all other places too there is but one all-pervading reality, Viṣṇuḥ. Being impatient, you are unnecessarily getting angry with me. If you want to attain soon the status of Viṣṇu, be equal-minded in all circumstances.

Viṣṇu means all-pervasive
This is the beautiful truth that the scriptures reveal. Viṣṇuḥ means the Lord. Viṣṇu is, of course, the particular name of a deity, the preserver, but the definition of the word Viṣṇuḥ is vye vyesti iti viñṇuḥ, one who pervades is Viṣṇuḥ.

Therefore, the derivative meaning of the word Viṣṇuḥ is the one who is all pervasive. That is the meaning of the names of all the devatās.

Nārāyaṇa means the ultimate goal of all living beings
The name Nārāyaṇa, for instance, evokes a particular form of the deity as the four-armed Lord, wielding the śaṅkha, chakra, gada, and padma. That is called the rūdī or popular meaning of the word Nārāyaṇa. However, if we analyze the derivative meaning of the word, we see that Nārāyaṇa is a combination of two words, nāra and ayana, as in nārānām ayanam. Ayanam is abode, the objective or the goal. Nāra is the group of naras, all the jīvas or beings. Thus, Nārāyaṇa is one who is the ultimate goal or ultimate aim of all the beings, the one whom everyone is seeking, that freedom, that limitlessness, that saccidānanda. Another way of looking at the meaning is that all these jīvas or beings are the abode of Nārāyaṇa. He is one who abides in all the beings as their very self.

The same Lord is worshiped in many forms
Traditionally, every deity has a particular form with some attributes, but in the ultimate sense, every deity represents that definitive principle, which is saccidānanda. Every deity represents only Brahman, the ultimate, and that limitless alone is worshiped in different forms depending upon our own disposition and emotional makeup. Accordingly, I worship that Lord in the form of a father, a mother, a son, a master, etc. and that is how we have so many different deities. Just as the same man may be looked upon as being a father, a brother, a son, or a friend by different people, so also, the same lord is looked upon differently by different people. That is why we worship the Lord in so many forms.

That same Lord is in me and in you
Tvayi mayi ca anyatra ekaḥ viñṇuḥ. Ultimately, there is ekaḥ Viṣṇuḥ, this one Viṣṇu, in you, in me, and in everything else. There is this one all-pervasive lord, this one Nārāyaṇa alone. This is a very comforting vision. The very idea gives me such relief, that I am Viṣṇuḥ, I am Nārāyaṇa, I am limitless. Whether or not I am able to see myself as free or limitless today is a matter of my knowledge or experience, but the scriptures reveal this vision about myself. I am told, tat tvam asi, that thou art, that limitless, that divine or that ultimate truth.

My constant struggle to be free from any limitation shows my true limitless nature
One may ask, when I experience a sense of limitation, inadequacy or incompleteness constantly, how does it make sense to say that I am a complete being even now? In spite of this line of argument, even an intellectual understanding proves this logic to make sense. I can see that every moment, and through every pursuit, I am constantly seeking to be complete. I am constantly striving to be free from limitations. Whatever I do or do not do is motivated by this innate urge to become free. Everything that I do in my life reflects an innate love for freedom, for completeness, for adequacy. Every action of mine is a manifestation of my love for the limitless and the fullness that is Nārāyaṇa. The rule is that there is always love for that which is natural and aversion for that which is unnatural. For instance, the river loves the ocean because the ocean is its natural destination, and fire love’s heat because that is its nature. So also, that I love freedom, that I love wholeness, and completeness, shows that this freedom, wholeness, and completeness must be my nature. Likewise, that I cannot accept division, limitation, or inadequacy shows that they must not be my nature.

The logic is thus very simple. There is a constant urge and struggle in me to be free from every sense of limitation, and this shows that I am not limited. Otherwise, I would have accepted it. Therefore, I know that I am not the limited being that I take myself to be; I am not a sinner, I am not impure, I am not insignificant, I am not a failure, and I am not a miserable or sad creature. Even though I take myself to be thus, I am not so. If I understand this, it gives me a tremendous amount of relief, if nothing else, and I do not give reality to the sadness or the smallness that I experience about myself. This is because I have śraddhā, trust in the revelations of the Upanishads. I give the Upanishads and the teachers the benefit of the doubt, that they know me better than I know myself. Just as when I go to the doctor I submit myself entirely and accept the judgment of the doctor, so also, I have this implicit faith in the Upanishads. They reveal that I already am that which I seek to be, that I already am that which I am searching for.

Do not give reality to the sense of limitation
The first thing to do, then, is to not give reality to the sense of limitation, and thus, not lend reality to these problems. Understand that all these problems arise only out of your imagining that you are a small or a limited being. That initial superimposition brings in its wake, a host of other problems. A Vedantic student will not grant reality to the problem. It is not a legitimate problem because one does not have to ‘become’ limitless.

Become a renunciate for 30-45 minutes a day
The teacher continues to declare that I am limitless, and says, vyarthaṃ kupyasi mayyasahiñṇuḥ, you are unnecessarily getting upset with me. This is because I don’t experience myself to be that which he says I am. I get impatient, and even upset. “Swamiji, say something practical. What can Vedanta do about my job? What can Vedanta do about problems that I have with my children? How can Vedanta help with this problem that I have with my boss? Does Vedanta have something to say about it?”

First of all, address the problem you have with yourself before you look at the problems you have with the world. I have a problem with my own self and that problem reflects or manifests as my other problems. Therefore, iti paribhāvaya, think about all this. While we don’t say that you should give up your job or become a renunciate, make some time each day, at least half an hour or so, to become a renunciate. Give up all your roles for this half hour or 45 minutes; have no agenda, no responsibility, nothing to accomplish. You don’t have to answer to anybody, you don’t have to fulfill any demands. This is the time that is meant for you to dwell upon yourself and to address your mind. Do you worry about that report? Write it afterwards. Do you worry about the project in the office? Put it off for that half hour. Worried about your son’s exams? Again, deal with it after half an hour. Let everything be postponed until after that half hour. Iti paribhāvaya, may you dwell upon these things. 

Take time to enquire into your limitations
The things that I take granted about myself, should they really be taken for granted? Lord Kṛṣṇa says in the Bhagavad Gītā,

May one know that dissociation from association with sorrow is what is called yoga. That yoga should be pursued with clarity of purpose with a mind that is not discouraged [Bhagavadgītā, 6-23].

What is this yoga he speaks of? Lord Kṛṣṇa says that this yoga is nothing but duḥkha-saṃyoga-viyoga. Yoga means joining, but in a sense, yoga is really viyoga, disjoining. I am already joined to duḥkha, pain and sadness. Disassociating or disjoining from this pain and sadness is yoga. There is already saṃyoga or association with duḥkha because I have taken myself for granted, I have taken myself to be duḥkhī, to be small or limited. I then go around trying to become sukhī, trying to make myself free from limitations. Therefore, take the time to enquire whether you are indeed limited, whether you are indeed duḥkhī, sad, and whether you are indeed a saṃsāri. This yoga is of the nature of vicāra or enquiry. It means trying to implement whatever understanding I gain through this vicāra in a way that it slowly permeates and percolates into my life. What is so difficult about doing this? Even to learn in an indirect manner that I am already free is comforting, and there is an enthusiasm in me to see it as being a fact of life. Sa niścayena yoktavyo yogo’nirviṇṇacetasā, this yoga of self-knowledge must be implemented or pursued, anirviṇṇa-cetasā, by a mind which is free from nirveda, despair. Don’t despair, don’t get disappointed, don’t lose patience, and don’t lose heart because there is nothing new that you have to accomplish. You already are what you are seeking to accomplish. Therefore, don’t worry or don’t lose heart.

Acquiring self-knowledge takes time
Patience is extremely important in seeking this knowledge. We become impatient, but that is also acceptable. That urge and enthusiasm is definitely required, except that at the same time, we should understand that this affliction of self non-acceptance, self-rejection, and self-judgment is long-standing. It is said in Ayurveda that you should take medicine for as many months or for as many years as you have been having the disease. Consider how long you have been having this problem, and don’t expect to be cured of it overnight. This ‘disease’ of constant self-condemnation is so old that it is going to take some time to become free from this. It has become a habit, and I did not even know it was there. It has crept in so effortlessly and been there for so long that I have come to think that it is the truth about myself. Therefore, the whole question now is to completely reverse this trend, this way of thinking. There is this ingrained pattern in my mind to always look down upon myself, to always judge myself from the standpoint of this body, or from the standpoint of this mind, or intellect, and to always judge myself as being an inadequate or incomplete being. To begin to judge myself, not from the standpoint of this personality, or body, or mind, but from the perspective of the self that I truly am, is a task that is going to take its own time. Often, this reversal of thought is compared to the task of completely reversing the flow of a river. Imagine how much effort it would require to make a river go back to its source. Similarly, with as much effort, this river-like flow of thoughts, of self non-acceptance, has to be turned around into becoming thoughts of self-acceptance, self-recognition. Therefore, have patience, have faith, have śraddhā in yourself, and have śraddhā in the scriptures. Have śraddhā in God that he is also with you and that you can always seek his help. As we saw earlier in iha saṃsāre bahudustāre kṛpayā’pāre pāhi murāre [21], you must seek his help.

May you see the Oneness in everything
What is to be done for acquiring this vision? The second line of this verse describes that very beautifully, bhava samacittaḥ sarvatra tvaṃ vāïchasyacirādyadi viñṇutvam. Acirāt is soon. Acirāt vāïchasi, you desire that you should acquire the state of viñṇutvam soon. You want to become Viṣṇuḥ, you want to become whole or complete, you want to become free or limitless. Yadi vāïchasi, if this is what you desire, that desire is legitimate. Then what should you do? Sarvatra, everywhere. Tvam bhava, may you become samacittah, one who has the sameness of mind, or equanimity of mind.

Gain a non-judging mind, one that does not judge something as being good and something else as bad, or conclude one thing to be right and some other to be wrong, or see something as being success and something else as failure. Everything may seem different from everything else, the costumes are different, the names and forms are different, and the external appearances are different, but recognize the essence of everything to be the same. For example, gold may appear in the form of many ornaments, and each ornament looks different from every other ornament. Perhaps the shape is different, perhaps the design is different, perhaps the function or wearability is different, and perhaps the value is different. In spite of all these differences, however, all of them are still the same in as much as they are all made of the same material, gold. Similarly, there are many living creatures, human beings, birds, animals, plants, insects, and many sentient things as well as insentient or inert things. There is so much variety and diversity in the creation, but this variety and diversity is not the ultimate truth about this creation. Hidden behind this variety and diversity is the oneness, that Viṣṇuḥ, that all-pervasive principle. That one alone manifests in these different costumes, names, and forms.

Separate the person from the personality 
Kastvam, who are you? Koham, who am I? Kāme jananī, who is my mother? Ko me tātaḥ, who is my father? It is the same Viṣṇu who is this ’I’, the same Viṣṇu who is ‘you’, and the same Viṣṇu who is called mother or father, husband or wife.

As we discussed earlier, everyone is a union of two factors, one is the person and the other is the personality. Just as an actor is the performer and the costume, so also, in everyone there is a person and a personality. It is the personality that is called the husband, the personality that is called the wife, the personality that is called mother, the personality that is called father, the personality that is called you, and the personality that I know as me. However, the personality is not the whole truth of you or me, the father, or the mother, because behind this personality is a person. Who is that person? That person is Viṣṇu, the all-pervasive one, the whole, the complete, the limitless, and the pure. Whether it is called Viṣṇu or Śiva, that is the person. How many such people are there? There is but one. That person is the silent conscious presence, which illuminates or enlivens the personality. This is in the manner of the thread, which supports the harmonious arrangement of all the flowers in a garland. When you see that garland, all you can see is the arrangement of the flowers. We fail to see the thread passing through every flower. However, if the thread were not there, this entity called a garland would not have been there. Therefore, it is the thread that provides harmony, the oneness to all the flowers. Similarly, there is only one thread that is passing through every name and form.

The name and form has variety, it has multiplicity, and the goodness and the badness are all in this name and form, in the costume. Just as an actor may appear in the costume of a beggar, he may appear in the costume of a villain as well as the costume of God. The same actor will play Rāma in one movie, and Rāvaṇa in another. That Rāma and Rāvaṇa are attributes of the costume, but that is as far as our perception can go; we cannot penetrate the costume. We think

that the costume is real, that the outer appearance of name and form is real. Therefore, we are not able to penetrate that costume and appreciate what lies behind it. The same awareness, the same Śiva, appears as every costume.

Wise people see the same self in a brāhmin endowed with knowledge and humility, in a cow, in an elephant, in a dog and (even) in a dog-eater [Bhagavadgītā, 5-18].

Whether it be a learned brāhmaṇa, a cow or an elephant, or a dog or dogeater, in all of these, the wise, paṇḍitāḥ, see the same truth, the same principle or the same self, samadarśinaḥ. This represents the whole spectrum of beings from the sāttvic or pure to the most impure.

The beauty about Lord Śiva is that he remains unaffected or untainted by all the inauspicious things or impure things that he is supporting. You and I would not even touch those things. We would not touch the snake or the ash coming from the cremation ground. Lord Śiva wears a garland of skulls. He is surrounded by ghosts and goblins. All of these are considered impure and inauspicious, but in spite of it all, Lord Śiva remains ever auspicious. So also, let there be all this inauspiciousness in the personality. The snake, the inauspiciousness, is in the personality. The ghost-ness is in the personality. There is viciousness and inauspiciousness in the world and it manifests in the personality as what I find in the spouse, the parents, in the children, and in the world. Underlying all of this is the pure and auspicious Lord Śiva.

Shift the attention from the personality to the person
Bhava samacittaḥ, while perceiving all this duality or variety, don’t fail to remember that there is only that One in all of it. Therefore, may you not judge a person merely by the outer appearance or the personality, but seek the real truth or the essence that is in them. That is samacittaḥ. As long as my attention is preoccupied with the appearance of an ornament, I will think that one ornament is better than another, but then, when I look upon the ornament from the standpoint of the essence, I realize that all the ornaments are the same. Therefore, the teacher says, let us shift our attention. Presently the focus of attention is merely on the costume, on my own personality and the personality of the others. May we shift the focus of our attention from the personality to the person, and find the same Viṣṇu everywhere and in everything. May we see the same Viṣṇu, the same principle, in whatever we call inert as well as in whatever we call sentient, in one whom we call the sinner as well as in one whom we call the saint, and in what we consider to be pure as well as in that which we consider impure. The same One supports it all.

Develop equanimity of mind
Bhava samacittaḥ is the sādhanam, the means given to us in order to appreciate the fact that there is only one, the Viṣṇu or Brahman. The Chāndogyopaniñad [3-14-1] says, ‘sarvam khalvidam brahma’, all of this is Brahman. All of this is indeed Viṣṇu, all of this is indeed Śiva, and all of this is indeed the self. We will be able to appreciate that truth when we begin to have

samatvam. Lord Kṛṣṇa talks about samatvam throughout the Bhagavad Gītā. Samatvam is having same-mindedness whether you confront iñṭa, the agreeable, or aniñṭa, the disagreeable, nityaṃ ca samacittatvam-iñṭāniñṭopapattiñu [Bhagavadgītā 13-10]. We keep confronting a variety of situations in our life. One moment, the situation is conducive or agreeable or pleasant. Another moment, the situation will be unpleasant or disagreeable. We seem to ride on the wave of joy and sorrow depending upon what we are confronting because we only relate to each situation superficially. Lord Kṛṣṇa says, whether it be pleasant or unpleasant, agreeable or disagreeable, don’t lose equanimity of mind. Welcome both the pleasant and the unpleasant with even-mindedness. Welcome everything as being but the manifestation of the Lord. Understand that the one Nārāyaṇa comes before me now as the pleasant, as the agreeable, and as the conducive. The same Nārāyaṇa may choose to come before me as the disagreeable, or the unpleasant. Therefore, do not get distracted by the appearance, but always seek to appreciate the one who informs everything and comes before you in different costumes. It is this samacittatvam or sameness of mind that is taught in the Bhagavad Gītā.

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Verse 25

Verse 25
What should we do or not do?

शत्रौ मित्रे पुत्रे बन्धौ मा कुरु यत्नं विग्रहसन्धौ ।
सर्वस्मिन्नपि पश्यात्मानं सर्वत्रोत्सृज भेदाज्ञानम् ॥भेदाज्ञानम् २५॥
śatrau mitre putre bandhau mā kuru yatnaṃ vigrahasandhau,
sarvasminnapi paśyātmānaṃ sarvatrotsṛja bhedājïānam.

Strive not, waste not your energy to fight against or to make friends with your enemy, friend, son, or relative. Seeking the Self everywhere, discard the sense of division, born out of ignorance.

Do not keep seeking the pleasant and avoiding the unpleasant 
Vigraha sandhau yatnaṃ mā kuru, don’t keep on wasting your time doing vigraha, battle or war, and sandhi, alliance or friendship. I find myself doing this constantly. When I am confronted with something agreeable or pleasant, I make friends with that. When I am confronted with something that is disagreeable or unpleasant, I immediately proceed to develop enmity towards that. I make friends with some people and I create enmity with some others because there is

someone whom I brand as a śatru or enemy, and someone else whom I brand as a mitra or friend. Then there is one whom I brand as a putra, son, and another whom I brand as a bandhu, relative. Thus, there is the enemy, the friend, the son, and the relative. I keep on confronting all of this and I keep responding to them, meaning I come under their spell. That is how my responses come to be determined not by me, but by them. Thus, in my life, I am constantly engaged in either vigraha, division, or sandhi, joining. I want to keep myself away from something that is unpleasant, or I want to keep myself with something that is pleasant. This is what I am trying to do constantly and this is the story of my life. I waste my life in always seeking to be with that which is pleasant or avoiding that which is unpleasant.

Trying to adjust the unpleasant to the pleasant will exhaust your time
Don’t do this because it will completely exhaust your life. There is no end to the pleasant and the unpleasant; life will keep on presenting these two things. You are not always going to confront the pleasant, and neither will you always have to contend with the unpleasant. The pleasant and the unpleasant, the agreeable and the disagreeable will keep on coming to you, and continually trying to adjust things in such a manner that everything is agreeable will never work.

I often relate an experience that I had when I first came to the United States. I was the guest of a friend who had been living here for several years. He was very enthusiastic about taking me around, and showing me the mountains, the rivers, and the parks. He once took me for a ride in his nice car along a beautiful scenic road. He showed me the weather control in his car with which one could get the right kind of temperature inside the car. I liked the idea. Turning and twisting that knob fascinated me! He was driving along the road and I found the temperature a bit too warm, and so I made it a little colder with that knob. All of a sudden the clouds came, and I felt too cold. So I turned the knob a little bit to make it a bit warmer. The bright sun came back and soon I felt a little warmer, and again I turned the weather control knob. It went on and on like this throughout the ride. At the end of the drive my friend asked me whether I had enjoyed the ride. I told him yes, I had. He asked me whether I had enjoyed the mountains and the scenic views. I was wondering, what mountains and what scenes? I had been so busy adjusting the knob that I did not notice the mountains or the scenic way! This is what we keep on doing in our life. We are always trying to arrange things around ourselves so that they are pleasant and agreeable. The teacher says here, that if this is what we try to do, there will be no end to it at all.

There is no ideal arrangement
Mā kuru yatnaṃ vigrahasandhau, don’t keep on trying to rearrange things around yourself in search of an ideal arrangement. I am constantly trying to find that one ideal arrangement that would be perfect, but when I do discover the arrangement, I find that that is not what I want. So I rearranged it. Again, it is not quite what I want. Like this, we rearrange our jobs, our houses, and sometimes, even our families! Where is the end to that? There is no end to it. Therefore, mā kuru yatnaṃ vigrahasandhau. I find myself either fighting with the situation or in love with the situation. That is not love, but attachment. Don’t waste your time like this, because there is no end to this. Then what should you do?

See the same self in everyone
Sarvasmin paśya ātmānam, may you see the one self in all. May you understand that it is the same Viṣṇu that comes as the pleasant, who comes as the unpleasant as well. “Swamiji, that seems very convenient. From now on, my wife should not complain about me because I am Viṣṇu appearing before her in an unpleasant situation.” It does not give one a license to be whatever we want to be because we should also have samacittatvam in ourselves, and seek to live up to these values. Let me maintain some dignity in that I am not merely this body or mind or personality, but the person. I try to remember that and exhibit that dignity in life. How can I do that? If we think of the real nature of ourselves, we will refrain from doing that which is unbecoming of us. Sarvasmin api paśya ātmānam, in everyone, may you see the same Self. Sarvatra utsṛja bheda ajïānam. Utsṛja, discard or give up. What? Bheda ajïānam, that bheda or division, which is a product of ajïānam or ignorance. Because of ignorance, you take the personality alone to be real, the costume alone to be real, and the external appearance alone to be real. Appreciate that through that costume, or the variety or multiplicity, there is that one manifesting itself and, therefore, seek to give up the duality or division that arises from ignorance. Seek to see the same self in everyone.

Alertness helps in cultivating equanimity of mind
Why is it that we are not able to see the same self in everyone? It is because we come under the spell of the situation! How is it that we come under the spell of the situation? That happens because there are difficulties within ourselves. As long as those reactions and impurities are there in my heart, so long am I not able to maintain equanimity of the mind. Only later on do I realize that I should not have become angry, or that I should not have said this, or that I should not have behaved like that. I realize it after the fact, but when the situation is upon me, I just forget myself. I forget my values. Why is it so? Again, it is because there are some demons, or some evils within me and I am under their hold. That is the reason why my wisdom and discrimination do not seem to come into play. If I am alert in every situation, it would not be difficult for me to live by my values. However, there are different situations when I am not alert. At those times, I lose myself in my own reactions.

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Verse 26

Verse 26
The next verse tells us what it is that we should seek to become free from so that sameness or equanimity of mind can be maintained.

कामं क्रोधं लोभं मोहं त्यक्त्वाऽऽत्मानं भावय कोऽहम् ।
कोऽहम् var पश्यति सोऽहम् आत्मज्ञानविहीना मूढा स्ते पच्यन्ते नरकनिगूढाः ॥ २६॥
kāmaṃ krodhaṃ lobhaṃ mohaṃ tyaktvā’tmānaṃ paśyati so’ham,
ātmajïāna vihīnā mūḍhāḥ te pacyante narakanigūḍhāḥ.

Having given up lust, anger, greed, and delusion, the seeker sees in the Self, ‘He am I’. They are fools who have no Self-knowledge, and they, as captives in hell, are tortured.

Ātmānaṃ so’ham iti pasyati. The seeker of self-knowledge is able to see the self for what it is, soham, that I am. I am that Viṣṇu or Nārāyaṇa, I am that limitless or the whole. When is this seeker able to see the truth about himself?

Tyaktvā, having given up, kāmaṃ krodhaṃ lobhaṃ and moham. Kāma is lust, krodha is anger, lobha is greed or miserliness, and moham is the delusion that arises because of these. Tyaktvā, do not let yourself come under the sway of this lust, anger, greed, or delusion. Maintain your balance of mind.

Our obstacles are internal
It is the demons of kāmaṃ krodhaṃ lobhaṃ and moham, which prevent me from seeing this truth. In reality, then, where is the obstacle? Is it the world that really harasses you? No, the obstacles are within ourselves.

Kāma is not merely simple desire, it is tṛsna or craving. That lust or passion that I have is called kāma. When it arises, I lose myself, I come under its sway. So kāma or passion arises as a tremendous force within me, and at that time, I lose myself.

These internal obstacles rob us of our good judgment
Krodha or anger is another āvega, impulse. When anger arises, it also comes as a tremendous force from within, and takes hold of me. Again, I lose myself. When I act as dictated by anger, my sense of discrimination or wisdom does not come into play at all. It is not that we don’t know things. We know all of this, but at that time this knowledge is not available to us. At that time, I came under the pull of these bandits.

kāmaḥ krodascha lobhascha madhye tiñṭhanti taskarāḥ (source?)

These taskarāḥ, thieves, are within you. Just as when we are going along an isolated route, bandits come and rob us of our wealth, so also, when we are under the sway of our passions, these robbers that are within, rob us of our good judgment. Ātmasam aparāhāya, they rob you of yourself; they rob whatever little wealth there is inside. They rob whatever divine wealth I have gathered, whatever purity I have gathered. Tasmad jāgratha jāgratha, therefore may you wake up, may you become alert.

Lord Kṛṣṇa says,

This doorway to naraka (painful experiences), which destroys a person, is threefold – desire, anger, and also greed. Therefore, one should give up this triad [Bhagavadgītā, 16-21].

Talking of lust, anger, and miserliness or greed, he says, these three are the gateway to hell, narakasyedaṃ dvāram. Nāśanamātmanaḥ, they destroy the self, they damage or hurt my own self.

These obstacles damage us
Everytime lust arises, or anger arises, or whenever there is greed in me, I am causing damage to myself. It is like a heart attack, which leaves permanent damage on the heart every time it strikes. Similarly, every time lust or anger or greed comes, it leaves behind damage in the self. Therefore, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, those who are devoid of the knowledge of the self, ātmajïāna vihīnā, have delivered themselves into the hands of kāma, krodha and lobha, and are deluded, mūḍāḥ. They are naraka nigudāḥ, the captives of hell.

All our suffering can be traced to these internal obstacles
People ask this question, “Swamiji, is there a place called heaven or hell?” There must be, because the scriptures describe them. Still, we don’t have to go too far to experience hell. Who has captured the deluded in hell? It is kāma, krodha, and lobha. I live a life of hell, captured by them or dominated by them; there is constant inner suffering. Pacyante means they are cooked. It is said that you may be cooked or fried in hell, in a big cauldron, or you may be asked to embrace burning pillars. You may even be cooked in the oven. We don’t have to go anywhere to be cooked in the fire of hell. Pacyante, we are already being cooked constantly. Kāma, krodha, and lobha are the fire that is constantly cooking or torturing me, and all my suffering may be traced back to them. Where do they arise from?

Kāma, krodha, and lobha arise from the ignorance of the Self, which brings about the ego or the sense of individuality. This brings about a sense of insufficiency, which brings desire. When the desire is not fulfilled, it brings about anger. Yet, when the desire is fulfilled, it brings about greed. How interesting! Desire is thus damaging, whether fulfilled or not. This desire leaves behind either anger or greed in its wake. Both of them result in a disturbance of the mind, so I can never have even a moment of leisure as long as I am under the spell of kāma, krodha, or lobha.

Moha is delusion or the state of intoxication when under the spell of kāma, krodha, or lobha. It is the stage at which I lose myself; I lose my sense of judgment, and I lose my sense of discrimination. When I come under the spell of anger, I lose my judgment. I act in a manner that is totally unbecoming of me. When he comes under the spell of anger, man completely loses himself and becomes an animal, a tiger or a snake etc. That situation is called moha. When lust arises, I become mūḍaḥ, deluded. When krodha or anger arises, I lose all my judgment, and when greed or miserliness arises, then again, I lose myself.

These inner enemies need to be conquered
These are the inner enemies which we have to conquer. It is this struggle which is often represented as a struggle between the devatās and the asuras in the purāṇas. Sometimes the devatās win, and sometimes the asuras. Similarly, this battle is constantly going on in our own minds. Whenever the time comes to implement a certain value, a conflict arises. For example, the conflict arises when we have to make an honest customs declaration. The more I declare as having, the more customs duty I have to pay. Thus, on the one hand I value the truth, but on the other hand, I have value for money, artha, power or possession, and for kāma, pleasure and entertainment. These values are embedded in us as we grow. On these occasions of conflict one part of the mind says, “Speak the truth.” The other part of the mind says, “Don’t speak the truth. Who speaks the truth anyway? How does it matter?” This is comparable to the battle between the devatās and the asuras. So values such as truth, or non-violence can be compared to the devatās and values such as greed, lust, and passion can be compared to the asuras. There is a constant struggle between the two.

These inner enemies can be conquered by using discrimination
Greed, miserliness, lust, or anger are your enemies and therefore, do not deliver yourselves into their hands. This is a practical application to the question, “Swamiji, what should we do in our day-to-day life whenever anger arises?” Don’t come under its sway; don’t give it reality. As we saw earlier, anger arises whenever I make a demand either on others or on myself. As best as

possible, give up the demands. Learn to accept and enjoy things as they are. Kāma or desire arises because of aviveka or non-discrimination because I do not know that what I am seeking is my own self. I do not know that when I seek happiness or security through the pursuits of the world, that pursuit is never going to be fulfilled because what I am seeking is my own self. Therefore, desire can be handled by educating the mind all the time. When a desire arises in the mind, ask the mind, “What do you want? What are you seeking?” The answer  will be, “I am seeking happiness. I am seeking security.” Nobody wants money or power for its own sake; everyone wants money or power solely for the sake of happiness. When you make the mind see that happiness does not lie there, and that the happiness is to be discovered only within one’s own Self, the blind chasing after money, power etc. will slowly come to a stop. Thus, we have to handle the various impulses of the mind by viveka or discrimination. They can only be resolved by viveka or discrimination. Only by viveka can we make the mind free from kāma, krodha, lobha, etc. It is not possible to overcome anger by will, or greed by will. That can happen only for a period of time, before they arise again.

We can see the Truth when these obstacles have been conquered
When the mind becomes free from these evils, I am able to see myself as I truly am, so’ham. On account of kāma, krodha, or lobha, not only is my judgment impaired, but my perception of the world is also distorted. Therefore, I should seek to get rid of these devils, slowly creating the ground for the knowledge of the self.

The truth about the self is that I am not what I take myself to be today, but so’ham, I am that, I am Brahman. I am a complete being; I am limitless, free, and pure. This truth about the self becomes clear as a result of the teaching of the scriptures. However, the teaching becomes effective only when we have a mind which is receptive. When does the mind become receptive? Only when it overcomes these inner obstacles, kāmam, krodham, lobham, and moham.

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Verse 27

Verse 27
In this beautiful verse, the teacher presents before us the daily spiritual practice that we should follow in order to prepare for the knowledge.

गेयं गीतानामसहस्रं ध्येयं श्रीपतिरूपमजस्रम् ।
श्रीपतिरूपमजस्रम् नेयं सज्जनसङ्गे चित्तं देयं दीनजनाय च वित्तम् ॥वित्तम् २७॥
geyaṃ gītā nāma sahasraṃ dhyeyaṃ śrīpati rūpamajasram,
neyaṃ sajjana saṅge cittaṃ deyaṃ dīnajanāya ca vittam.

The Bhagavadgītā should be sung, and the Sahasranāma should be chanted; always the form of the Lord Nārāyaṇa is to be meditated upon; the mind is to be led towards the company of the good; wealth is to be distributed to the needy.

This is a nice set of instructions given to us for the purification of our minds, and the correction of our perception of life. By this, at the level of the mind, we have purity and at the level of the intellect, we have correct perception.

Study the Bhagavadgītā
What should we do in our daily life? Geyaṃ gītā nāma sahasram. Geyam means to be sung. Geyam gītā, the Bhagavad Gītā should be sung. Earlier, we have seen bhagavad gītā kiïcidadhītā [20]. The study of the Bhagavad Gītā has a great importance in our tradition. It is not a very large text and consists only of about 700 verses. Yet, within those 700 verses, we have all that we need for our inner development or maturity. Thus, the Bhagavad Gītā should not only be sung or recited, but must also be studied.

The reciting of the Bhagavad Gītā or listening to discourses on the text, or reflecting or contemplating on the meaning of the verses gives us a proper understanding and perception of life. The Bhagavad Gītā teaches us a vision of life and also a way of life. It not only tells us what the goal is, but also tells us of the path or the means to it. Therefore, the Bhagavad Gītā gives us viveka or discriminative understanding.

Chant the names of the Lord
Nāma sahasram, the 1000 names of the Lord. These names should be chanted or recited. It can be the 1000 names of Lord Nārāyaṇa or Lord Viṣṇu, Lord Śiva, or of our iñṭa devatā. All the iñṭa devatās, whether Lord Rāma or Kṛṣṇa or any other devatā, ultimately represent the same Truth; the Brahman, that limitlessness or freedom that I am seeking. Constantly reciting their names is an assertion of the Truth, which I am seeking. For instance, Rāma is nothing but Brahman. Ramanti yogino yasmin, that in which all the yogis always revel is Lord Rāma. Or that which dwells in all the hearts is called Rāma. Thus, when we repeat this name, Rāma, we are asserting our value, our commitment, and our devotion to the truth, because Rāma means God, or the Truth.

Reciting the Lord’s names purifies our mind
The reciting of these names is very important because the devotion that accompanies it has a tremendous effect on the mind. It has a purifying effect on the mind while, at the same time, asserting my commitment to the truth. We must know that our mind silently repeats whatever we read or talk. The silent repetition is constantly going on. When I am talking to you, my mind is silently repeating whatever I am talking and the words that I repeat have a significant influence on the mind. Suppose you constantly repeat ‘war, war’ for an hour or so, you will find that your mind becomes the battlefield. If you repeat, ‘anger, anger’, you will become angry. Instead, if you repeat, ‘peace, peace’ your mind will have peace. So the repetition of a name has a magical effect on the mind. Therefore, in our tradition, this japa or repetition of a name is highly emphasized. Repetition of a name invokes the devotion that is there in the heart. There are many saints who believe that all you need to do is to constantly repeat the name of God, and do nothing else.

kālo kalmaña cittānām, pāpa dravyo upa jīvinām, vidhi kriya vihinānām, harer nāma yoh kevalam. (attribution?)

It is said that in the kali-yuga kāma, krodha, and lobha fill up the mind. When the mind is filled with impurities or kalmasha, pāpa dravyo upa jīvinām, the dravya or money that we earn is not always earned by fair means. Or we can say that there is always some sin involved in it. Vidhi kriya vihinānām, there is no vidhi (word meaning) in the kriya, action, or there is no āchāra, sanctity? (wrd mng) in our life. Therefore, what is the one way to rise above this? Harer nāmaiva kevalam, saying the name of Hari or God is the only way. The repetition of the name of God thus has a cleansing or purifying effect on our mind. So it is said here, geyaṃ gītā nāma sahasram.

Meditation upon the form of the Lord invokes the devotion in our heart Dhyeyaṃ śrīpati rūpam ajasram. Ajasram, constantly. What is it that I should meditate upon constantly in my mind? Śrīpati rūpam dhyeyam. Śrī is Lakñmī devī, the goddess of wealth. Śrīpati is Lord Nārāyaṇa, the lord of the goddess of wealth. Meditate constantly upon the form of the Lord. This applies to people who worship the Lord in a given form. It is not mandated that we have to always meditate upon a given form, but for those who are brought up in the culture of worship with a form, it becomes very easy. We have an emotional attachment to our iñṭa devatā. Therefore, the very thought of the form of the iñṭa devatā, whether it is Lord Rāma or Śrī Kṛṣṇa or Lord Nārāyaṇa, brings about or invokes the devotion in our heart. Therefore, may you meditate upon

the form of Lord Nārāyaṇa. What is meant by meditation here is keeping the objective in mind. Lord Nārāyaṇa, Lord Śiva, or Śrī Hari are nothing but representations of the same Brahman in a given form. For example, the features of Lord Dakñiṇāmūrti symbolize certain principles. While, at the beginning, I may meditate on the physical form of Śrī Dakñiṇāmūrti, I will slowly begin to dwell upon what Lord Dakñiṇāmūrti represents. Thus, this kind of meditation upon a form is also very important.

Keeping company with good people inspires us
Neyaṃ sajjana saṅge cittam. The faculty of thinking or inquiring is called cittam or cit. May your intellect always be in the company of sajjana, the wise or the good. As we have seen earlier, the company we keep is very important because we are prone to be influenced by our environment. Therefore, keep the company of good people or thinking people, those who have certain moral values. Be with those who are righteous and noble in their thinking, people of pure heart, people who have śraddhā or devotion in God and in the scriptures. May you always keep the company of such people so that śraddhā arises in your heart also. You will also be encouraged or inspired to follow those values of life. Cultivate satsaṅga, the company of the good, the company of the wise, or the company of like-minded people.

Develop an attitude of charity
Using my faculty of speech, I recite the Bhagavad Gītā and the name of the Lord. In my mind, I meditate upon the form of the Lord. With my intellect I seek satsaṅga and enjoy the company of wise people. What should I do with my hands?

Deyaṃ dīnajanāya ca vittam. With your hands, you give charity. Deyam, to be given. Vittam, money or wealth. Money should be given to dīnajana, the poor or people in need. With the hands, may you give in charity to those who are in need. This means that there must be an attitude of charity in our life.

Charity is not expressed merely in giving money. It is to be expressed by our whole being. I should be a charitable person in whatever I do. Even in my speech, may I use words and expressions in a charitable manner so that I do not hurt anybody when I am talking to them. As best as possible, I should always utter pleasing and sweet words. Wherever I am, in whichever situation I find myself, may I make an attempt to become useful and to become a blessing. It is

not that we have to do great things in our life to be good people. Even little things go a long way if they are done in the spirit of charity, in the spirit of giving, and in the spirit of offering.

Giving money is just one of the things I can do. Here, money stands for whatever wealth we have, which is not only monetary wealth, but wealth in terms of our mind, our knowledge, and our compassion. We have all that wealth. Let us always be ready and prepared to give that, to share it with others. Thus, there should be a spirit of sharing in our life. 

The notion of ownership should slowly cease to exist
As we saw earlier, we should realize that whatever we have is on account of the support we have received and continue to receive from the whole creation. If I am a wealthy man, I cannot take the credit for what I have acquired or earned. I have earned it only because I have been given a certain ability, a certain understanding, a certain knowledge, and certain capabilities to do so. When I was born, I was born with nothing. In course of time, as I grew up, so many teachers and so many others contributed to the knowledge, the skills, and the capabilities, with which I then earned money. Therefore, I may not claim sole ownership of that. Even the physical abilities that I have and the skills that I have are on account of the support and grace that I have constantly been receiving. The whole world is constantly serving me. In truth, therefore, I am not the private property even of myself. I am public property. Everybody is really public property. When I truly become public property, then alone do I become a wise man. A wise man is truly public property because he does not have any ahaṅkāra, meaning he does not have any sense of ownership, even of his own body. To the extent that I hold on to this idea of ownership, to that extent am I making myself limited, and making myself isolated. Thus this whole idea of ownership, which arises from ignorance, should slowly cease to exist. For that to happen, begin with being charitable.

Reaching out is essential for spiritual progress
Be charitable with your wealth of good words, your wealth of good thoughts, and your wealth of kind action. Let kindness and charity manifest through your action at every moment that you have an opportunity to be charitable, and every moment that you have an opportunity to be kind. Whatever you are doing, there is always a possibility for kindness, for charity, for sharing, for reaching out. Don’t think that Vedanta never talks about social service and things like that; it does, in this manner. I realize that I have had the privilege of enjoying so many benefits and amenities, and that there are many people who are deprived of those benefits. They are deprived because they did not have the privilege or the opportunity that I have had. I was born in this family and in this environment and that gave me the privileges. The others did not have these privileges, but it does not mean that they should be completely deprived. Thus, a concern for them and a desire on my part to reach out is very important. There can be no spiritual progress without this. Kāma, krodha, etc. cannot go unless I slowly expand in the heart.

Tune up the entire personality to focus on God
Let your heart have charity and compassion. Let your hands be engaged in acts of charity and service. Let your mind always meditate upon the form of the Lord. Let your thoughts always be in the company of the wise, and good and thinking people. May you always recite the scriptures and the name of God. Thus, your entire being or the entire personality is engaged or focused upon God, which is the goal that you are seeking. This is a process of tuning-up. When I observe a very small particle under a microscope, I tune the microscope to focus on the particle. Or when I want to look at a distant object through a telescope, I tune the telescope in order to focus on that object. Similarly, our entire life is an attempt to focus on God or Brahman, the Self, which is what I want to attain or know. Thus, all the aspects of my personality are aimed in that direction. This verse tells us beautifully how to do that. Your speech, your mind, your intellect, and your actions, let all of these be focused upon the Lord.

It is said that the first 13 verses of this poem were composed by Śrī Śaṅkarācārya. The next 14 verses are believed to have been composed by his 14 disciples. We have completed this second set of verses. We now come to the last four verses, which are again attributed to Śrī Śaṅkarācārya. They give us a summary of what we have studied so far and some further instruction as well.

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Verse 28

Verse 28
The ācārya presents another observation of life here. He asks us to observe how a common man exhausts himself and squanders this precious opportunity of human life without recognizing its value.

सुखतः क्रियते रामाभोगः पश्चाद्धन्त शरीरे रोगः ।
यद्यपि लोके मरणं शरणं तदपि न मुञ्चति पापाचरणम् ॥पापाचरणम् २८॥
sukhataḥ kriyate rāmābhogaḥ paścāddhanta śarīre rogaḥ,
yadyapi loke maraṇaṃ śaraṇaṃ tadapi na muïcati pāpācaraṇam.

Very readily one indulges in carnal pleasures; thereafter, alas, come diseases of the body. Even though the ultimate end is death in this world, man does not give up his sinful behavior.

Human birth is rare Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says elsewhere:

The status of a human being, the disposition of one who longs for freedom, and being under the tutelage of a teacher – this three-fold blessing is difficult to gain and has its cause only in the grace of the Lord [Vivekacūḍāmaṇi, 3].

There are three things that are said to be rare, of which manuñyatvam, gaining birth as a human being, is one. In the very first verse of the Vivekacūḍāmaṇi, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says that there are millions and millions of species in this whole universe, and the human being is but a minuscule part of all the creatures in this whole universe. However, to be born as a human being is a great blessing, jantunām nara-janma durlabham. It is a rare privilege, and we should utilize this precious opportunity. In this birth, the human form enjoys certain distinctions, certain privileges, which are not available to other life forms. The animals grow in a horizontal direction. In the case of an animal, the head, the stomach, and all the organs are in one line. Therefore, the head is intensely engaged in thinking about the stomach and the sense gratification. However, that is not the case with human beings. The human head is high above the rest of the body. He also has senses no doubt, but then, his head is not to be merely utilized in thinking about sense gratification. His head is to be used to think about something greater than that.

The intellect provided to the human being is a unique blessing

There are several features common to the human being and other beings: eating, sleep, sense gratification. For human beings, the intellect is an extraordinary feature. If the intellect is not there in the human being, then he is as good as an animal only [source?].

Āhāra, nidrā, bhaya, and maithunam are the impulses common to all animals and humans. Āhāra is food. Where there is hunger, there is a common need to appease that hunger. Nidrā, the need for sleep and rest, is common, bhaya, fear or the need to protect oneself, is common, and maithunam or the impulse for sense gratification is also common. However, human beings have one distinction. They have an intellect. They can think, and they have an urge to evolve. There is an urge to change, an urge to improve, an urge to progress. Such an urge does not appear to be there in any other life form. That is the reason why, for centuries, the cows have been what they are. There is no change in their lifestyle or their diet. The animals have not even thought that they could cook grass or spice it up a little bit! We see the sparrows building the same kind of nests for centuries together. They know whatever architecture they need to know. That is all. There is no improvement at all. Whereas, we can see the degree of progress human beings have made. That shows that the human being is a very privileged species. Therefore, this human form is not acquired to merely be wasted away in eating, drinking, and making merry. An animal form is more suitable for that. If eating well is the goal of life, I’d better become a buffalo, which has a big stomach, and can eat a lot of food. In many other faculties, the animals are much more efficient than I am; the fish can swim, the birds can fly, the horse can run.

In terms of power also, animals like elephants and tigers are much more powerful than us. If you compare human beings with all other life forms, we are nowhere near, and still, the human being is master of the universe. Why is that so? It is because he has an intellect. It shows that his life has a purpose different from that of the animals. Animals spend their entire lives as dictated by their instincts of āhāra, nidrā, bhaya, and maithunam because they don’t have the freedom to be other than what they are. They have no freedom to change their instincts, whereas, the human being has freewill, which is a great privilege. Therefore, man should contemplate upon the purpose of life. Life should not be wasted away merely in sensuous pleasures, but people do that.

But all our energy is exhausted in indulging the senses
Sukhataḥ kriyate rāmābhogaḥ. Sukhatah, easily. Rāmā means woman. Rāmābhogaḥ means carnal pleasures. Man succumbs easily to the impulse for lust or pleasure. The tongue has a natural affinity for taste. The ears have a natural affinity for sound. Our sense organs have a natural affinity for sense objects. That is how they have been created. God has created them like that.

The self-existent Lord has created the sense organs (and the mind) to be extroverted. Therefore, there is a natural tendency for sense objects, not the inner Self [Kaṭhopaniñad, 2-1-1].

The sense organs have a natural affinity for the sense objects. Therefore, they always extend outwards, reaching out for pleasure. It is very easy. Just as it is very easy for water to flow from a higher level to a lower level, so also, it is very natural for this mind, this sense organ, to expand from the inside to the outside. The outward flow of the mind can be compared to the outward flow of the river. The seat of the mind is the heart. From there, it runs out through these apertures, the sense organs, into the world. Because this is something natural, and very easy and instinctive, the river of the mind is always flowing out, resulting in all the energy being exhausted or wasted away. Therefore, the common man wastes away all his energy in the play of the senses. He wastes away his life. What happens then?

The abuse of the body breeds many diseases
Paścād hanta śarīre rogaḥ. Paścād, thereafter. Hanta, alas. Hanta is a term used to express pity. What a pity it is, that after having spent his life merely in sense pleasures, he suffers from all kinds of bodily diseases, śarīre rogaḥ. As Bhartṛhari says, bhoge rogabhayam [Vairagya Śatakam, 31], whenever there is an attachment to pleasures, an attachment to sense gratification, there is also roga bhayam, the fear of roga or disease. Whenever one is engaged in sensuous pleasures, there definitely is going to be disease. Most of the diseases that we are suffering are there because we abuse our body.

God has created this body to be quite capable of doing what it is meant to do, but we utilize our body for purposes different from what it is designed for. We utilize the stomach as a storehouse for food; we keep on dumping food. It is not meant to be used that way. Pujya Swamiji used to say that one man would run 20 miles each day. This is very funny. We are not horses. How can someone run 20 miles every morning? Doesn’t he have anything else to do? Thus, we abuse the faculties that God has given us. Just because we have eyes, it does not mean that we watch TV six hours a day! The ears are given to us. Even as they run, people use a walkman to hear music. Keep on listening, nothing else to do!

I am not saying that we should not watch TV or listen to music; that is not the point. It is only that indulgence in any field is undesirable. There is a saying in Sanskrit, ati sarvatra varjayet, you must always avoid excess in anything. However, our life is full of excesses and indulgence, full of abuse to the body. That is the reason why we soon start suffering from a variety of diseases such as diabetes, cholesterol, blood pressure, etc. We abuse the body. When people get nervous, they eat food. If I don’t feel good or I am bored, I go to the refrigerator and pull out something to eat. We don’t realize, however, that what we eat, what we drink, what we read, or what we hear has an influence on our mind. The abuse of the body is not merely confined to the body, but breeds many diseases of the mind as well. People seem to have all kinds of problems. A normal person is hard to find. As long as they don’t talk, everything is fine. It is only when they start talking that we realize the kinds of craziness out there. All this is because we do not live our life intelligently.

Despite the certainty of death, we squander life away in material pursuits 
Yadyapi loke maraṇaṃ śaraṇaṃ. People see that maraṇam or death is the ultimate end. I cannot survive forever. I see that life is short and so the time and opportunities I have at my disposal are also short. At the time of death I am not going to take anything with me. The wealth that I have accumulated is not going to come with me. Apare khaatar mehal banaayaa, aap ahi jaakar jungule soyaa, says the poet Kabir. This man built a palace for himself, but ultimately where did he go to sleep? In the forest. When you die, where do you sleep? In the jungle! Why are you wasting your time building such a big palace? It is puzzle to me, why people build such huge houses with so many rooms, bathrooms etc., that cleaning the place itself becomes very difficult. Such houses are such a waste of energy, building and maintaining.

Even though the person knows that he is ultimately going to die, he does not give up his sinful ways, pāpa ācaraṇam na muïcati. “Swamiji, I am a very straightforward and righteous person. Sin does not apply to me.” You are righteous, perhaps, as far as honesty is concerned. Still, that is not the only righteous way. What are you doing about yourself? What is the purpose for which you are here? Are you utilizing your energies for that purpose, or are you squandering it away on something else? That is also a pāpa. To abuse this body is also a pāpa or a sin. A surgeon’s knife is meant to perform a delicate surgery. If you use it for sharpening pencils, that is an abuse. If a sophisticated instrument is used for a rough purpose, it is an abuse. Similarly, this body is a very sophisticated and priceless piece of equipment, but we are squandering it in mere material pursuits or sense gratification. That is a great sin.

Those worlds of devils are covered by blinding darkness. Those people that kill the self, go to them after giving up this body [Īśavāsyopaniñad, 3]. The Upanishad calls those who hurt themselves or kill themselves in this manner, ātma-anaḥ. They are leading an extroverted life. A life in which material things are the only purpose is an extroverted life.

This is an observation that Śrī Śaṅkarācārya makes for our benefit. Look, ultimately you are going to die. Therefore, are you preparing for your death or not? Samprāpte sannihite kāle nahi nahi rakñati ḍukṛïkaraṇe. When the appointed time comes, ḍukṛïkaraṇe, none of these pursuits are going to help you. They are not going to protect you. Therefore, spend your life in a worthwhile pursuit that will save you or help you at the time of death.

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Verse 29

Verse 29
In this verse, we are again told of a very harsh or bitter fact about life concerning wealth or money.

अर्थमनर्थं भावय नित्यं नास्तिततः सुखलेशः सत्यम् ।
सत्यम् पुत्रादपि धनभाजां भीतिः सर्वत्रैषा विहिता रीतिः ॥ २९॥
arthamanarthaṃ bhāvaya nityaṃ nāstitataḥ sukhaleśaḥ satyam,
putrādapi dhana bhājāṃ bhītiḥ sarvatraiñā vihitā rītiḥ.

‘Wealth is calamitous’ thus reflects constantly. The truth is that there is not even an iota of happiness to be gotten from it. To the rich, there is fear even from one’s own son. This is the way with wealth everywhere. 

Artha means wealth, but we should understand it to include other things like power, possessions, etc. The word artha has several meanings. One meaning of artha is wealth. Artha also denotes that which is meaningful. Therefore, puruñārtha is defined as puruñaih arthyate iti puruñārtha, that which is sought by a puruña or person is puruñārtha. So artha means that which is sought, or that which is desirable. Here, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, all artham is anartham, meaning undesirable or calamitous. Artha is something that is seen to bring a fulfillment to life, but what you call artha only brings about anartha or calamity in life. Teachers of Vedanta keep on condemning wealth, desire, and pleasure. Do they not know how to live a good life? Or are they jealous of those who live the good life? Why do we keep saying that? It is because there is pain and exertion involved in procuring wealth. Wealth does not come free. You really have to sweat and toil for wealth. (Swamiji: The usage of the article ‘the’ and ‘a’ in this context: ‘a’ good life for living according to dharma etc; ‘the’ good life is used for a way of life of the well-heeled, which is commonly considered to be desirable, comfortable etc.)

Bhāvaya nityaṃ nāstitataḥ sukhaleśaḥ satyam. Nityam, constantly, bhāvaya, reflects. Reflect upon what? Artham anartham, that wealth is calamitous. Tataḥ, from that, sukhaleśaḥ nāsti, there is not an iota of happiness. Satyam, I am telling you the truth, says Śrī Śaṅkarācārya. I am telling you the truth that there is not an iota of happiness in this wealth. Money brings about anxiety, it brings about greed, it brings about jealousy, and it brings about fear.

Money creates anxiety
Having procured wealth, am I now free from worries and anxieties? Not at all. No sooner than the wealth is procured, there is other anxiety, that of protecting the wealth. As we discussed earlier, lakñmīstoyataraṅgabhaṅgacapalā [Śivāparādhakñamāpaṇa Stotram, 13]. Lakñmī is supposed to be chapala, fickle. She is as fleeting as a bubble of water. Just as you can never know when it will burst, so also, nobody knows when this wealth will go away. Therefore, preserving wealth also becomes a great exercise. It brings about a lot of anxiety.

It requires a lot of struggle to earn the money in the first place, and when it comes, it brings with it the anxiety of how to protect it. I then want to multiply that money. I invest it in the stock market, and lose sleep over it at night. The moment you invest your money in the stock market, your peace of mind is gone. Every morning, you open the financial section of your newspaper to check the prices and comments of the analysts.

Money creates jealousy
Unfortunately, money never creates a sense of satisfaction in me. Again, as we discussed earlier, nissvo hyekśatam śatī daśaśatam lakñam sahasrādhīpaḥ, when I did not have money all I wanted was one hundred rupees; the moment I had one hundred rupees, I wanted one thousand; once I had a thousand rupees, I wanted a lakh of rupees, meaning I wanted to be a millionaire. Thus, money always creates greed. There is something curious about this insatiability. However much I have, I always feel that I don’t have enough; the more I get, the more dissatisfied I seem to become. Only more greed seems to arise in me. Therefore, there is some kind of hold money has upon me. Even svāmis have to be very careful in handling money because it is very tough; money somehow makes you want more of it.

People associate pride with having money. When money comes to me, not only am I not satisfied with what I have, but I am always comparing myself with others. I may have a million dollars alright, but my friend has two million! Therefore, I also must have the second million. Generally speaking, the more money I have, the more generous I should become, but it does not happen that way. The more money I have, the more I feel that I do not have enough, because somebody else has more. Man can never be satisfied. Money only arouses greed and dissatisfaction in him.

Money creates fear and suspicion
People who have wealth always have a secret fear of those who do not have it. I feel that those who don’t have money are always looking at me, always seeking an opportunity to extract it, and always seeking an opportunity to exploit me. I feel obliged to protect myself from them. When somebody asks for some money I feel like saying, why don’t you go work? I feel that he is going to take something away from me. I cannot part even with one rupee even though I am a millionaire. This is something common to everybody. This is what money does to a person. Money also brings suspicion. Your fear makes you suspicious. You begin to suspect your partner, your subordinates, your accountant, etc. You can’t trust anybody. That is why, in a family business, this man never hands his keys to his sons. He does not really give up control to anybody. He must make all decisions and he must have the keys. This mother-in-law will never pass on the keys to the daughter-in-law. This also brings in the idea of power etc.

Money divides people
Wherever money is, it divides. The moment the issue of money comes between two friends the friendship gets dissolved. Many partnerships break up this way. In the beginning, they all work hard. Once the money comes in, however, one fellow does something, and then they fall out. Thus, money divides friends, money divides father and son, and money divides even husband and wife. Therefore, in the second line, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, putrādapi dhana bhājāṃ bhītiḥ, the wealthy fear or suspect even their own sons. Sometimes, you find a young man who is doing nothing. “Why, don’t you have to work?” “No, I am just waiting.” “Waiting for what?” “For the old man to pop off.” And the old man also knows that this fellow is waiting for him to ‘pop off’! We have seen so many examples. We have seen it in India also. If a parent makes the mistake

of distributing all his or her wealth to their children, you have to see what happens to them. Once the wealth is assigned, they are thrown out of the house the very next day. Therefore, everybody wants to hold on to it until death. So these fellows wait for him to pass on. It is amazing how all the love and affection goes away when this calculation of money comes into the equation. All of us are familiar with this. Whether or not I have money, I cannot be happy. Nāstitataḥ sukhaleśaḥ satyam, money can never give me happiness. It can only give me anxieties, fear, and suspicion.

We should be the master of money
Sarvatraiñā vihitā rītiḥ. Rītiḥ, method. Sarvatra, everywhere. These verses were composed about 1200 to 1500 years ago, but they sound so modern and are so relevant even today. It just goes to show that all of this existed even then. Mankind has fundamentally not changed. Things have essentially remained the same – the same mentality, the same kinds of problems. Why are we being told, artham anartham bhāvaya nityam, that we should always contemplate on the fact

that artha is anartha? It does not mean that you should not earn money. That is not what is meant here. Money is, of course, required in our life. It is required for basic necessities, and so on. It is desiring money for the sake of money that is definitely calamitous. Money for the sake of certain basic necessities of life is a requirement. We should have a healthy attitude towards money, but we should also be aware when money begins to exert its power over us and we find

ourselves chasing after it. The message is that we should always remain the master of money and not let not money become our master. Therefore, do not waste or squander away precious time or energy in this fruitless pursuit.

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Verse 30

Verse 30
Verses 28 and 29 have told us about the calamitous and foolish pursuit of artha and kāma. We have to apply the pratipaksa bhavana in order to withdraw our mind from this preoccupation with artha and kāma, so that the attention of the mind can be drawn to what we really have to do. Verse 30 tells us what to do when we achieve this.

प्राणायामं प्रत्याहारं नित्यानित्य विवेकविचारम् ।
विवेकविचारम् जाप्यसमेतसमाधिविधानं कुर्ववधानं महदवधानम् ॥महदवधानम् ३०॥
prāṇāyāmaṃ pratyāhāraṃ nityānitya vivekavicāram,
jāpyasameta samādhividhānaṃ kurvavadhānaṃ mahadavadhānam.

The control of breath, the sense withdrawal, discriminating between the permanent and the impermanent, along with a mind that is absorbed in doing japa, perform these with care, with great care.

In the earlier two verses, the ācārya told us what not to do, and here we are told what to do, kuru mahad avadhānam. Avadhānam means great care. Mahad avadhānam, with great care or very carefully. With great care, may you do this. What is he asking us to do? Prāṇāyāmaṃ pratyāhāraṃ nityānitya vivekavicāram jāpyasameta samādhividhānam.

Have self-control and be alert
Prāṇāyāmam is control of the breath. The control of the breath is the control of all our faculties, which implies exercising control over our sense enjoyment. As Lord Kṛṣṇa says:

For one who is moderate in eating and other activities, who is moderate in effort with reference to one’s duties, (and) to one’s sleeping and waking hours, (for such a person) meditation becomes the destroyer of sorrow [Bhagavadgītā, 6-17]

Let there be a sense of proportion in everything that we do in our life. In āhara, food, and in vihāra, walking and moving around. In whatever karma you perform, always have a sense of proportion. When you talk, talk about what is necessary, what is proper, what is right, what is pleasant and what is truthful. In whatever you do, always be alert. May you be alert in all the actions that you perform and may you not waste any effort. Do what is right; neither more, nor less. That is called having a sense of proportion. In food, avoid eating too much, and avoid eating too little. In sleep, avoid sleeping too much and avoid sleeping too little. In speech, avoid speaking too much, and avoid speaking too little. In action, avoid doing too much and avoid doing too little. If it is too little, you get too lazy. If you do too much, you get exhausted. May you design the activities in your life in such a manner that your focus is always maintained upon what you want to do, meaning acquiring a knowledge of yourself. Let your whole life be designed around the pursuit of knowledge. What the ācārya calls prāṇāyāmam, really means the control of all the sense organs of perception, and organs of action. With all these faculties, the hands, legs, speech, eyes, and ears, I do what is necessary. I do properly and alertly what I have to do, no more, no less. This is self-control.

Discipline the mind to focus on the Self
Pratyāhāram is the withdrawal of the senses. It is the withdrawal of the mind from its preoccupations. I should slowly withdraw the mind from other things and begin to focus the mind upon the Self. The first step is the practice of discipline and having a sense of proportion in all my activities, through self-control and alertness. The second is the withdrawing of the mind from its external preoccupations and focusing it upon the self.

Discriminate between the real and the unreal
Nityānitya vivekavicāram is the discrimination or viveka between nitya and anitya. Let my intellect be engaged in discrimination. Let me become an enquiring person, a thinking or contemplative person. Let me not take things for granted. There are so many notions and assumptions in our life, which we have never stopped to analyze. Therefore, let me consider what is nitya and what is anitya, or what is permanent and what is impermanent.

What am I seeking? Whenever I want to perform any task, I should ask this question, “Is this task going to help me in achieving what I am seeking?” When I leave home to go somewhere, the destination always remains in one corner of my mind. Whichever road I choose, whichever exit I take, all of that is determined by my destination. Similarly, let our lives be totally dedicated or devoted to the pursuit that we have chosen for ourselves. Let no action ever be wasted. This also can come in the practice of prāṇāyama. Let the mind always dwell upon understanding what is nitya and what is anitya, what is permanent and what is impermanent, what is desirable and what is not desirable, what is conducive to my goal and what is not. Let the mind always be alert. Ultimately, it is a study of the scriptures, the study of Vedanta, which unfolds the nature of the nitya vastu, Truth. Thus may we develop the ability to discriminate between the truth and the untruth, the real and the unreal.

Jāpyasameta samādhividhānaṃ. Samādhi means the relaxation of the mind, the absorption of the mind. When the mind is devoid of the various distractions and disturbances, it becomes silent. That silence is the total relaxation of the mind, the absorption or total abidance of the mind. As Lord Kṛṣṇa says, may your mind abide in the self, and not think of anything else, ātmasaṃsthaṃ manaḥ kṛtvā na kiïcidapi cintayet [Bhagavadgītā, 6-25]. When the mind is free from all its distractions, then the mind abides. So samādhi here, means the abidance of the mind in the self. How is that to be achieved? Jāpyasameta, by doing japa. We have talked about japa or the repetition of a holy name in the mind. It prepares the mind and cleanses the mind, purifies the mind and makes it silent. Ultimately, that silent mind can have an abidance in the self.

Abide in the Self
Kurvavadhānaṃ mahadavadhānam, do this everyday, do this carefully and do this with great care. In all of this we should exercise a great deal of care and patience. When it is said here, do this with great care, it also means exercise patience. We should have patience. Sometimes, the first thing that people want to do is meditate. Everybody wants to start with dhyānam. In the practice of añṭānga-yoga, meditation or dhyānam is only the seventh stage: yama or restraint,

niyama or good conduct, āsana or correct posture, prāṇāyama or regulation of breath, pratyāhāra or withdrawal of the mind, dhāranā or fixing the mind, and then dhyānam or meditation. Only when you have completed the first 6 stages is your mind ready for dhyānam. Yama has the values of life like non-violence, honesty, self-control, truthfulness, and non-possession. Niyama is santoña or contentment, tapaḥ or austerity, saucam or inner and outer cleanliness, svādhyaya or the study of scriptures, and īśvara pranidhanam or the worship of the Lord. Āsana is controlled at the level of the body. Prāṇāyama is the control of the breath.

Pratyāhāra is the withdrawal of the senses. Dhārana is the ability to concentrate. Then comes dhyānam, meditation. Therefore, the whole life is designed for accomplishing the goal that we are discussing. Kurvavadhānaṃ mahadavadhānam, do it carefully, and with patience. Don’t be in a haste. To dedicate myself to the pursuit is fine, but often, there is also haste, “I want to do it right now. It should happen right away!” We hurt ourselves, sometimes, in being in such a haste.

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Verse 31

Verse 31

In verse 31 the teacher gives us his final blessing.

गुरुचरणाम्बुजनिर्भरभक्तः संसारादचिराद्भव मुक्तः ।
सेन्द्रियमानसनियमादेवं द्रक्ष्यसि निजहृदयस्थं देवम् ॥देवम् ३१॥
gurucaraṇāmbuja nirbhara bhaktaḥ saṃsārādacirādbhava muktaḥ,
sendriyamānasa niyamādevaṃ drakñyasi nija hṛdayasthaṃ devam.

O devotee of the lotus feet of the teacher! May you become liberated soon from the saṃsāra through the discipline of the sense organs and the mind. You will come to experience the Lord that dwells in your own heart.

Bhaktaḥ means a devotee. Nirbhara is complete. Nirbhara bhaktaḥ is one who is completely devoted. Devoted to what? Gurucaraṇāmbuja. Ambuja means lotus. Caraṇa ambuja is the lotus feet. Gurucaraṇāmbuja is the lotus feet of the teacher. Now the teacher is addressing us, Oh seeker, you who are ardently devoted to the lotus feet of the teacher, Oh bhaktā, saṃsārād acirāt bhava muktaḥ. Acirāt is soon. May you soon become free from saṃsārā. Here, in the last verse, having told us so many things, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya wants to tell us of one more thing that we may want to do. Everything else will follow from it. 

Ardent devotion to the teacher is the most important means

What is that one most important means? It is the ardent devotion to the lotus feet of the teacher. He is suggesting that this is an outstanding means for the pursuit of knowledge, for becoming free from saṃsāra. Why is this devotion to the teacher emphasized so much?

Devotion to the teacher represents devotion to the scriptures

Devotion to the teacher also includes devotion to what the teacher stands for. I cannot be devoted to a teacher unless I am devoted to what the teacher stands for. A teacher represents the scriptures. He represents the tradition, he represents the knowledge. In being devoted to him, there is devotion to knowledge, devotion to the scriptures, devotion to tradition, and devotion to God. Devotion means love with respect and reverence. It is a love in which there is reverence and surrender. There are different kinds of love, but the love between a teacher and student is altogether different. There is a willing submission or willing surrender to the teacher out of a sense of reverence, and an implicit trust or faith in him. All the scriptures declare this to be a very important means.

In him who has total or supreme devotion for the Lord, and the same devotion for the teacher as in the Lord, in the mind of such a person will the words of the scriptures reveal their meaning [Śvetāśvataropaniñad, 6-23].

The same idea is presented in this verse and we are told, Oh seeker, you who are devoted to the lotus feet of the teacher, may you soon become free from saṃsāra.

Sendriyamānasa niyamādevaṃ drakñyasi nija hṛdayasthaṃ devam. Evam, in this manner. Niyamā means control of the indriya and mānasa, the sense organs and the mind. With the devotion to the teacher, the scriptures and the Lord, and with the sense organs and mind under control, meaning focused upon the self, drakñyasi nija hṛdayasthaṃ devam. Drakñyasi, you will see. What will you see? Devam, the Lord. Who is the Lord? That very self. Where is he? Nija

hṛdayastham, in your own heart. Thus, by a control of the mind along with the senses, and with a heart in which there is total devotion for the teacher and the Lord, you will see the Lord who is in your own heart. Thus, you will soon become free from this saṃsāra.

Nothing can be achieved without devotion

This is the last verse and Śrī Śaṅkarācārya gives us his blessing, “May you soon become free from saṃsāra!” May you discover that devotion in your heart for the teacher, for the scriptures, for the Lord, and for the knowledge of the Self. Devotion is a very important thing to have. Without devotion, nothing can be achieved. Some people believe that there are different paths, that there is a path of devotion and a path of knowledge. They believe that sages such as Caitanya Mahāprabhu followed the path of devotion, and wonder what path Śrī Śaṅkarācārya is following. Do you think he is not a devotee? Śrī Śaṅkarācārya who is the champion of knowledge is equally a devotee. His devotion is evident everywhere. The devotion for the teachers, devotion for the scriptures, and devotion for the Lord is evident in everything that Śrī Śaṅkarācārya writes. Therefore, whatever you are pursuing, the first requirement is that the heart must have devotion.

Devotion arises as a result of the grace of the Lord

Devotion comes as a result of the grace of the Lord. We pray that we may have devotion. That is what Tulsidas says when he addresses Lord Rāma and says, nānya spraha nanya spraha raghupade hrdaye smadhiye. He! Raghupathy! Hrdaye smadhiye, in my heart, nānya spraha, there is no other spraha, no other desire or craving. In my heart I don’t have any desire other than this. You know this well because bhavantar akhilad ātma, you are the self of all. You are the witness of everything. You know what is in my heart, and I am telling you that in my heart, there is no spraha, or desire other than this. What is the desire? Nirbhara bhakti, total devotion. What I want is raghu pungava nānya spraha raghupataye hrdaye smadhiye bhaktim prayacha raghupungava nirbaramare. Oh Lord Rāma, please give me nirbharam bhakti, a fulfilling devotion. Please give me total devotion in my heart. Kāmādhi doña rahitam .. mana summe. Please make my mind free from the doñas of kāma and krodha. Please remove these evil enemies of devotion, and fill my heart completely with devotion. That is all I desire. I do not want anything else.

Bhakti is the element that always goes along with the pursuit of knowledge, or the performing of an action. It is the one common feature in all that we do to achieve our goal of self knowledge. Here, Śrī Śaṅkarācārya says, may you discover in your heart, a devotion for the teacher, and soon may you become free from saṃsāra. Thus, we also pray that by his blessing, we discover

the same emotion and also become free from saṃsāra.

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