A series of short articles on the Bhagavad Gita for people living and working in our volatile, uncertain, complex and ambiguous times filled with stress and fear. This scripture born in a battlefield teaches us how to face our challenges, live our life fully, achieve excellence in whatever we do and find happiness, peace and contentment.
[Continued from the previous post.]
na twevaaham jaatu naasam na twam neme janaadhipaah
na chaiva na
bhavishyaamah sarve vayam atah param // 2.12 //
dehino'smin yathaa
dehe kaumaaram yauvanam jaraa
thaa dehaantara praaptir
dheeras tatra na mhuhyati // 2.13 //
Never was
there a time when I existed not, or a time when you or these kings did not
exist. Nor will there ever be a time when we shall cease to be. Just as in this
body the self passes from childhood to youth and old age, so too after death it
passes to another body. The intelligent do not grieve over this. 2.12-13
O0O
It was Ralph Waldo Emerson who called the Bhagavad Gita an empire of
thought and said: "I owed a magnificent day to the Bhagavad Gita... it was
as if an empire spoke to us, nothing small or unworthy, but large, serene,
consistent, the voice of an old intelligence which in another age and climate
had pondered and thus disposed of the same questions which exercise us.”
As Krishna begins his
teachings, please keep in mind that his interest is not in teaching that the
dead or the-not-yet-dead do not deserve to be grieved over. His interest is in
teaching us that we are immortals.
As we have seen
earlier, though the Gita is born in the context of the Mahabharata war, it is
not about slaughtering enemies in the battlefield or winning victories over
them. It is about winning the battle called life.
The Gita is about
becoming winners in life, winners over ourselves. it is about rising above the asuri
tendencies within us, about nurturing the daivi tendencies in us and eventually
growing beyond both daivi and asuri tendencies. It is about waking up from the
life we are dreaming, and waking up to life as it is, as it really is. It is
about ending the dream in which we see ourselves as mortals, with limited life
spans, limited intelligence, limited imagination, limited powers, limited
competencies and limited capacity for happiness. It is about discovering the
true us, discovering what we have been all through: immortals, whom weapons
cannot cleave, fire cannot burn, water cannot moisten and the wind cannot dry up; eternal, all-pervading, beyond
time, beyond names and forms, beyond the power of thought to grasp, beyond all
changes; beyond the power of the mind to reach, which can be known through
knowledge beyond all knowing, which can be felt only through the feeling beyond
all feelings, which can be experienced only through the experience beyond all
experiences.
There is a beautiful story about Zhuangzi [Chuang Tzu]. One morning the great Chinese saint of Tao told his
disciples who had gathered to listen to him as usual: “Last night I dreamt
I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, conscious only of my happiness
as a butterfly, unaware that I was Zhuangzi. Then I woke up and here I am,
veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I am a man dreaming I was a
butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming I am a man.”
Let’s not be too sure
we are what we believe we are.
Adi Shankaracharya
was passing through Srivali village near Udupi in Karnataka when a man called
Prabhakara came and invited the master for bhiksha in his house. When the
acharya went there, the man introduced his son to him – a thirteen year old boy
who had never spoken. Bhagavan Shankaracharya looked into the boy’s eyes and
realized he was looking at a highly advanced soul. “Who are you,” asked the
master with a smile on his face. Prabhakara was confused because he had just
introduced the boy as his son, that too s a son who couldn’t speak. But as soon
as the master asked the question, a amazing torrent of philosophical shlokas
came out of the boy, as though a spring was bursting forth from the
underground, astounding everyone but the master. What he said became
subsequently known as Hastamalaka Stotra, the only philosophical work in the
history of the world on which the author’s guru wrote a commentary. This is how
the boy begins his answer to the master’s question:
naaham
manushyo na cha deva-yakshau
na
braahmana-kshtriya-vaisya-shoodraah
na
brahmachaari na grihee vanastho
bikshur
na chaaham nija-bodha-roopah
I am
not a man or a god or a yaksha;
I am
not a brahmana, a kshatriya, vaishya or shudra
I am
not a brahmachari, a householder or a forest dweller
Nor am I a sannyasi;
what I am is pure consciousness of the self.
The young boy
Hastamalaka continues in this strain until he expresses the entire philosophy
that the acharya has been teaching travelling round the country!
Hastamalaka’s is yet
another of the innumerable stories that tell us what we really are.
There is an ancient
story about Indra living as a pig. The story is about the Pauranic Indra, who
is a symbol of the unmastered human mind, and not of the Vedic Indra, who is the
symbol of the awakened mind, of the no-mind, of pure consciousness.
The story says that
Indra once offended his guru Brihaspati and was cursed to be born on earth as a
pig. Over the years Indra living as a pig had a sow for his wife and several
piglets by her for his children. He had no memories of being anything other
than the pig – no memories of Indrani, no memories of the apsaras, kinnaris,
yakshinis and gandharvis, no memories of the heavenly throne and the heavenly
garden, no memories of celestial drinks, food, dance or music, no memories of
the devarshis or Brihaspati, no memories of his curse. Quite some time passed
this way, Indra fully immersed in his life as a pig.
However things were
not fine in the world of the gods because their king was absent and Brahma
decided to bring Indra back. He visited the earth where Indra the pig was
living amid dirt and squalor and told him who he really was. And Indra turned
to him asked, “Me, Indra! That’s impossible. I have always been a pig and that
is what I am going to remain always. I am perfectly contented with my sow and
my piglets. And look at the comfort I live in! What more can I desire?” And
Indra looked around triumphantly with a smile on his lips, standing in the
middle of a world of nauseating filth and stench, as though he is a great
achiever, refusing to take one step away from it.
O0O
Ancient Indian
spiritual tradition believed in beginning at the highest level and slowly
coming down to lower levels, perhaps so that the advanced aspirants could be
taken care of first and then the others who need more attention. Thus the Kena
Upanishad, for instance, begins by teaching the highest truth and then later
teaches the same truth in the form of a story – that of an encounter between Goddess
Uma and the gods. Finally, the Upanishad ends by asking those who have not yet
understood these teachings to practice austerities [tapas], mastery of the body
and the senses [dama], the yoga of rituals and dedicated actions [karma] etc.
which will ready their mind for higher understanding.
Following this
tradition, Krishna too begins the teachings of the Gita with the highest level by
speaking of the true nature of ourselves and then gradually comes down to lower
truths.
Krishna tells Arjuna
that we are not the marana-dharma beings we think we are. We are immortals who have existed from the
beginning of time and will always exist:
na twevaaham
jaatu naasam na twam neme janaadhipaah
na chaiva na
bhavishyaamah sarve vayam atah param. 2.12
It is not that I did not exist before now, nor you or
these kings. Nor shall we cease to exist in future.
This is India’s great teaching, teaching that takes
all life into a different dimension, gives a different meaning to death, a
different colour to all our ambitions, aspirations and achievements, to all our
struggles in life, to all our stress and strain and pains, to all the goals we
set for ourselves, goals others set for us. It changes everything. This
teaching tells us to focus on the journey and not on the goal because life is a
journey without a destination. It is a journey undertaken not to reach
anywhere, not to achieve anything, but to enjoy the journey itself, like a
rafting adventure down a torrent undertaken not to reach anywhere but for the
pleasure of it, a rock climbing done not to reach anywhere but for the thrill
of the climbing.
Years ago one of my students along with several of
his friends undertook a journey by cycle from our town to Pithoragarh in
Uttarakhand, covering some thirteen hundred kilometers oen way. The purpose
obviously was not to reach Pithoragarh – there are much easier ways for that.
Once in Rishikesh many years ago, together with a
young monk I met there, I planned a
trekking trip along the Ganga. Our plan was to start at Gomukh and trek right down
to Gangasagar where the Ganga meets the ocean – not for any specific purpose
but for the adventure of it – we both loved the Ganga, she was a mother to us
and we wanted to be with her, making the same journey she has been making for
hundreds of thousands of years.
In the 1980s I conducted a series of personality
develop programmes for Tata Steel, selecting young people through their
Community and Social Welfare Department, for the first programme of which we
had 180 enrollments. As part of these programmes we used to trek up the Dalma
mountains in Jamshedpur, part of the Vindhya ranges. The programmes of course
were not undertaken for reaching the top of the mountains – there were much
easier ways for that. We just wanted to enjoy the pleasure of the climb, the
pleasure of the night camp and the camp fire there, feel the thrill of trekking
through thick forests that were haunts of wild elephants, tigers and other
animals.
Life too is like that, the Gita teaches us. Life is
the greatest adventure sport, the greatest stage play, the greatest movie there
is. India calls it leela, kreeda. In the stories of Krishna, it is called raasa
– raasa kreeda, raasa leela.
If we can say that there is any purpose, it is to
realize what we are, what life is all about and then to continue the play
knowing that it is a play, not identifying with the characters, not identifying
with their joys and sorrows, not bound by them, but in freedom. Then we will be
able to say at the end of it all that we played our role well, that it was
great playing that role.
Our highest dharma is
living for awakening, our only true dharma. This is what many mystics across
the world belonging to different traditions call the mystical death. It is this
mystical death that makes Jesus capable of saying “I and my father are one”. It
is this that made the rishis of yore say I am brahman, aham brahmasmi. This is
the highest experience in life, this mystical death, and if there could be any
purpose, it is to experience this and become free from the notion of the ego
that shackles us every day, colours every moment of our life.
“Maro he jogi, maro,”
said the great master Gorakhnath, considered one of the four greatest masters
India has known, the other three being Krishna, Buddha and Patanjali. He was not speaking of physical death, but about
mystical death, the death of the ego and waking up into universal
consciousness. But then like Gorakhnath’s own guru we forget that and start
living the life of maya, of delusion, start taking the life of the senses for
real, the life of our desires for real and have to be woken up again and again.
Maya is like shaivala, water plants that grow on the surface of water in a pond
or lake, says ancient wisdom. When you want to drink the cool water under the
shaivala, you push them away with the back of your hands and gather water in
the cup of your palms. But a moment later they come back and cover the surface
again so that if you want to drink more water, you have to push them away
again.
Krishna wants each
one of us to live our lives joyously knowing it is only a leela, a play in
which we are playing the roles we are given. The Bard of Avon was right when he
said “All the world's a stage, and all the men
and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances; and one
man in his time plays many parts,”
But joyfulness is
difficult under the shadow of death. So Krishna reminds us that death is not
real, it is not the end of everything, it is not a dreadful monster waiting
with its mouth open to swallow us, we do not have to live cringing in its fear.
He wants us to walk the earth like the giants we really are, taking confident
strides, and not taking tiny steps like Lilliputians. We are mighty trees, not
bonsais. That is why India raised fearlessness to the level of God and said
abhayam vai brahma, fearlessness is brahman. Abhayam is central to Krishna’s
wisdom of life. His words in the Gita remind us of the mantras of the
Upanishads as they talk to us: shrinvantu sarve amritasya putraah – listen ye,
sons of immortality.
It is only when we
are fearless that we can live in utsava bhava in the world because it is only
then that we can forget ourselves. Without forgetting the ego there is no
utsava bhava. All fears belong to the ego. Our true self knows no fears. To the
extent we are egoless, to that extent we can celebrate. And when we are
completely egoless, our entire life becomes a celebration. Egolessness is
festivity, celebration, utsava. Adi Shankaracharya says in the Bhaja Govindam:
yogarato va bhogarato va sangarato va sangavihinah
yasya
brahmani ramate chittam nandati nandati nandatyeva
Let him be engaged in
yoga, let him be engaged in bhoga [sensual pleasures], he whose mind roams in
brahman, he just rejoices, rejoices and rejoices.
Of all the
Upanishads, it is to the Katha Upanishad that the Gita comes closest. And the
Upanishad has this to say about us, about our true self, about our true nature,
and about death:
yasya
brahma cha kshatram cha ubhe bhavata odanah;
mrtyur yasya upasechanam....
Katha Up.1.2.25
“You are that to
which the entire brahmanas and kshatriyas of the world are but a meal. Death is
nothing more chutney for you to lick up!”
To Krishna death is
no more than another life change. “Just as in this body the self passes from
childhood to youth and old age,” says he, “so too after death it passes to
another body. The intelligent do not grieve over this.”
O0O
But can we use this
knowledge in our workaday world? In our factories and corporate offices? In our
markets and banks, in our hotels and kitchens?
Krishna says at the
beginning of the fourth chapter of the Gita that this knowledge was originally
taught to kings. If kings of yore could rule entire kingdoms using this
knowledge and excel in what he did, then being the head of a corporate house today
is no big deal. You may be the head of global organization, a multinational
company or just a small division, this knowledge empowers you more than
anything else does. With this knowledge, there will be a different quality to
your work, a different music to it, a different rhythm, a different fragrance. You
will be beyond the reach of the demon of tensions and stress then, beyond the
demon of meaningless, beyond the demon of anxieties and fears. Just as the
thickest darkness cannot touch the sun, worries and problems will not be able
to touch you.
With this knowledge, our
dysfunctional mental and emotional patterns like anger, fear, anxiety, sadness
and the sense of self-limitations will fall away. Today the corporate world
drains us of our energy, exhausts us completely, many of us reach back home in
the evening after a day’s work totally fatigued and a feeling of having been
sucked dry, with no energy left but even to rest and reequip for yet another similar
day. Fatigue builds upon fatigue and reduce us to shapeless masses like
overheated rubber. Instead, with this knowledge, we will be as fresh at the end
of the day as when we woke up.
Our self-image will
improve, hostility levels, rigidity, depression and so on will be reduced, yur
sensitivity, sociability, tolerance, and so on will go way up, improving our
interpersonal relations. We will have
better capacity to initiate contacts, greater inner control, and our emotional
and energy blocks will be removed, helping us enjoy what we do better. Living this knowledge in the corporate world, we
will have increased energy levels, drive, and the sense of power. Emotionally we
will become more stable and spontaneous. Since our stress levels go way down, we
will have increased capacity to deal calmly and decisively with the challenges
the world throws at us.
With this knowledge, we
will be able to come out of the cocoon in which you have been living all these
years. We will not have to hide from light any more, we won’t have to hide in
our personal jungles and caves. We will come out of the narrow vision of life
and will be able to float with life with as the messiah of Richard Bach’s Illusions
does.
“Once there lived a
village of creatures along the bottom of a great crystal river. The current of
the river swept silently over them all – young and old, rich and poor, good and
evil, the current going its own way, knowing only its own crystal self.
“Each creature in its
own manner clung tightly to the twigs and rocks of the river bottom, for
clinging was their way of life, and resisting the current what each had learned
from birth.
“But one creature
said at last, ‘I am tired of clinging. Though I cannot see it with my eyes, I
trust that the current knows where it is going. I shall let go, and let it take
me where it will. Clinging, I shall die of boredom.’
“The other creatures
laughed and said, ‘Fool! Let go, and that current you worship will throw you
tumbled and smashed across the rocks, and you will die quicker than boredom.’
“But the one heeded
them not, and taking a breath did let go, and at once was tumbled and smashed
by the current across the rocks. Yet in time, as the creature refused to cling
again, the current lifted him free from the bottom, and he was bruised and hurt
no more.
“And the creatures
downstream, to whom he was a stranger, cried, ‘See a miracle! A creature like
ourselves, yet he flies! See the Messiah, come to save us all!’
“And the one carried
in the current said, ‘I am no more Messiah than you. The river delights to lift
us free, if only we dare let go. Our true work is this voyage, this adventure.’
“But they cried the
more, ‘Saviour!”’ all the while clinging to the rocks, and when they looked
again he was gone and they were left alone making legends of a Saviour.”
O0O
This is how Krishna
want us to live. This is how Krishna wants us to be. Whether we are in a
factory or in the market, in a corporate office or on a construction site, in a
flight or in a battlefield.
Surrendering to
existence, accepting life in its totality, fighting the battles of life
fearlessly, with loka-sangraha as the only goal, living for the good of others.
The Jataka Tales of
the Buddha tells us of five hundred of Buddha’s past lifetimes, in each of
which he lived fearlessly for others.
O0O
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