The Song Divine

I was in middle school when I first read the verses of the Bhagavad Gita. At that time, I was taught this holy scripture the way a preschooler is taught the alphabet - by rote, in the form of a rhythmic incantation. Right from the start, I found myself trying to make sense of it from the English translation in my pocket-size copy of the Gita. Translations typically show a predilection for using archaic /heavy words ("transcendental knowledge" is definitely not the kind of concept that would captivate a seventh-grader). I have been trying explain the gist of the Gita to myself; none of my attempts sounded convincing enough. I have also read a variety of attempts by others to do the same, and amazingly, each one is so different. This is the true beauty of the Gita - it encapsulates timeless wisdom in a form that resonates, in different ways, with people of different inclinations.

For some time now, I have wanted to revisit the text, and to ponder over its message. Some may find the ideas to be misplaced for our times, and sadly enough, many are wont to look upon the Gita as too ponderous (I don't find it in too many 20-somethings' reading lists). From what I've read of the Gita, I find it holds deep meaning to us in a variety of ways.

I like to look at the Gita for what it actually is - a logical conversation between a soul in doubt and his counseller. Here he is, the star warrior in your ranks, Arjuna, benumbed by anxiety, overcome with doubt, grief-stricken at the enormity of the action that he has to undertake. Fortunately, you also have in your ranks, an expert counseller Krishna(who better than God incarnate, who has answers to every question, and who can quell every doubt!). The counseller goes to work, starts off by chiding our warrior for his act, which could be construed as cowardice, thereby appealing to Arjuna's sense of pride in his valour - a great starting point to make him see things in perspective. He then goes on to talk about weightier things like the ephemeral nature of the world and that he, Arjuna , being merely an instrument in the larger scheme of things, should not shy away from his action citing his selfish reasons.

Which brings us to the first major theme:

Perform your duty selflessly, do not be attached to or claim ownership over the results.

Of course, once this was said, Arjuna immediately wanted to know how one could stay detached, which brought the discussion round to the "the one of unwavering intellect" - the one who is unaffected by extremes of emotion, a proponent of the yoga by means of knowledge.

(The word yoga has been interpreted in various different ways, the most agreed upon one being the definition of yoga as "excellence or skill in action")

Arjuna, grasping on this to support his argument, questions Krishna, why he, Arjuna cannot be given respite from the war to pursue yoga through knowledge, rather than through action.

Our skilful counseller however, has the answer to that ready too - that seeking to abandon one's duty is not an acceptable solution. Each of us is impelled to a definite course of action by the very nature of one's circumstances, and it is beholden upon us to discharge the duty that arises, and not give it up to follow a different path, even if that alternative were to be one of great sacrifice and devotion.

Further dialogue ensues about the distinction between, and the relative merits of, yoga through action and yoga through knowledge. The theme of detachment is key, as is unlocks the doors to a whole set of fantastic discussions around concentration, meditation, mental predisposition that are very, very valuable to us in everyday life.

One of my favourite verses is from this part of the Gita:

"One's self is one's biggest friend as well as one's biggest enemy. To one who has uplifted oneself by one's own efforts, the self is the biggest friend; else it remains one's sworn enemy."*

How true! Think of the last time you promised yourself that you would quit some really disgusting habit, or that you would learn a new skill; and you just couldn't do it because you couldn't garner the willpower or bring yourself to do it. And think again, of another time when you really managed to pull off something that you resolved to, and the great sense of inner peace that you felt.

Your better self is constantly at war with your lower self (a kind of Jekyll-and-Hyde situation). One wants to set a mission statement for your life, and the other wants to sleep longer instead; one tries to tell you to sign up for the gym and the other tries to tell you that it's OK to gorge on that other guy's chocolate too - it is entirely possible to uplift yourself; it just requires, as Henry Thoreau** says, conscious endeavour. And the way to do it is to control your mind through practice, concentration and focus.

Having explained two of the three yogas, Krishna completes the discussion on ways to attain the Supreme, by touching upon Bhakti Yoga, or the path of devotion to God.

The last few chapters of the Gita are still somewhat of a mystery to me. They speak of the nature of man, and how to subdue aspects of your nature that stop you from greater goals, of the concept of one’s world as an inverted tree, a metaphor well-established in other schools of philosophy too.

I plan to understand the Gita better, and revisit this piece with more ideas to share. I know I can do it; it's all a matter of letting my better self prevail !!!

(P.S.: This is just my small attempt to understand the text, and to share my impressions on ideas I found particularly captivating. I’m no expert on the text, comments/corrections are most welcome)

*Chapter 6: The Science of Self-Realization (verses 4 & 5)

**Henry Thoreau: I know of no more encouraging fact than the unquestionable ability of man to elevate himself by conscious endeavor.