by Swami Krishnananda
"O I see! All right," said Gārgya. In everything he had something to hear against what he said. So, now, there is something more up his sleeve. He has not finished. "I have something else to tell you. You meditate like that. You see, when you walk, especially in the dark alone, you hear sound coming from behind, as if somebody else is walking behind you. Some people fear to walk in darkness, alone, because they hear some sound from behind, as if somebody was walking behind them, or pursuing them. What is this sound from behind? I contemplate on that because it is a peculiar aspect of Reality, from my point of view." This is what Gārgya said. "No," said Ajātaśatru. "This is not the way I meditate. Do not speak to me like this about the sound that comes from behind a person when he walks alone. I contemplate on the reason behind it, not on the sound merely. Why do you hear that sound? It is not that someone is walking behind you. It is the peculiar vibration of the Prāṇa emanated by the soles of the feet. It is a thud created by the Prāṇa-Śakti that is ejected through the feet when you walk. You cannot hear it when you walk in the midst of people, or when you are in a crowd, or when you are otherwise engaged, etc. When you are alone, unbefriended, in darkness especially, when there is no distraction, nobody around you, only then can you silently hear this tic, tic, thud, thud, which is the sound made by the Prāṇa in your own body. Prāṇa is depleted through your feet when you walk, and it leaves a vibration behind, as it were, when you go forward. That is the case of the sound that you hear. I consider Prāṇa, the life principle, as the object of meditation rather than the sound that it makes because of walking. I contemplate on Prāṇa as Brahman, because this sound comes from Prāṇa only. Sa ya etam evam upᾱste, sarvaṁ haivᾱsmiṁl loka ᾱyur eti, nainam purᾱ kᾱlᾱt prᾱṇo jahᾱti: One lives a long life, and will not have a premature death if this kind of contemplation is practised."
"I contemplate the quarters of the heaven, the directions, as the symbol of Brahman, because of there being a resemblance between the quarters of space and the nature of Brahman, the resemblance being that both point to an endless existence." Bālāki's advice is that this is the way to meditate and that the king, too, might continue the same method. Ajātaśatru replies, "This is not the way. Do not speak to me about this sort of meditation. I contemplate rather on an implication in this meditation, and not merely the form of it, as you are suggesting. The directions are presided over by a species of deities called Aśvins. They are twins, and they always go together. Now, I contemplate on their nature as the presiding deities of these directions, rather than the directions themselves which are only their outer expressions. My method of meditation is to see the Reality behind the forms." This is what Ajātaśatru purports to tell him. "An inseparable character (Anapaga) is what I observe in these deities, and they can never be set apart, one from the other." An invariable concomitance, connection or association of things among themselves, leading us to an interconnectedness of things is a further implication of this meditation. "So, what I observe in these directions, or quarters, is something different from what you are telling me." There is a hidden significance behind the observation of these quarters of space with our senses. The significance is that there is a deity presiding over these directions. There is nothing which is not presided over by some deity or other. There is some sort of force which controls the external manifestation of each and every thing in the world. "An inseparable connection, a permanent association of one thing with another is my way of contemplating this object which you regard as space, or regard as directions."
Sa ya etam evam upᾱste, dvitīyavᾱn ha bhavati, nᾱsmᾱd gaṇaś chidyate: "If one is to meditate as I am suggesting, rather than the way you are mentioning, a miraculous result will follow. One becomes inseparable from everything, and everything will become inseparable from such a one. The so-called separability or divisibility of things will vanish gradually on account of a deep contemplation on the connectedness of things, the association of everything with oneself, and oneself with everything. You receive help from everyone because of the meditation that you practise in this manner. And your relationship with things will never cease at any time. There cannot be an occasion of bereavement at any time in this world. You shall always be associated with all things because of the force of this meditation on the connectedness of all things."
Then Bālāki says, "I have another way. You follow that. I contemplate on the shadow of my own body." This is also one mystical or occult method followed by certain people. The suggestion is not just some fantastic idea of people, but it has a vital connection with one's own body. The concentration of the mind on the shadow of an object, when properly done as a discipline, can move even the object. It means the object will recognise its shadow. Thus there is some point in what Bālāki is saying. But Ajātaśatru has something else to say. "That is not the way. I have some other idea about it. I see something else in what you call a shadow. The shadow of an object is the appearance of the object. This is how I look at it." While the connection is, of course, there obtaining between the shadow and its original, and so Bālāki may be right in saying that there is some point in such meditation, the idea is that this relationship between the reflection and its original is the same relationship that obtains between appearance and Reality. Appearance is death (Mṛtyu) from one angle of vision. Reality is life. Inasmuch as all those who are caught up in appearances are subject to transiency, death comes upon everyone. We may regard the shadow as a symbol of death. Mṛtyur iti vᾱ aham etam upᾱsa iti, sa ya etam evam upᾱste, sarvaṁ haivasmiṁl loka ᾱyur eti, naivam purᾱ kᾱlᾱn mṛtyur ᾱgacchati: One can contemplate the transiency of things in this manner and the destructibility of everything that is visible in the same way as the shadow may be symbolised as an externality of the original substance. One who observes non-selfhood, or the character of unconsciousness in external things i.e., unreality or appearance in objects, will free oneself from entanglement in things external, because it is the inability on the part of oneself to discover the apparent character of things that causes entanglement in things. Contemplation on the transiency of appearance frees one from attachment to forms. And one lives a long life. There is no death in the realm of reality. There can not be anything like accident to that person, and there would not be premature death.
Now, Bālāki has a trump card. He left off his earlier instruction. There is nothing else for him to say. However, here is the final word: "I contemplate the selfhood of my personality as the Supreme Reality. The being that is my own self, which is the Ātman - this is the Supreme Being; this is the Reality; this is Brahman. This is my advice to you, this is my instruction, and this is how you may meditate also." Ajātaśatru turns round: "No; this is not the way I meditate. This self that you are speaking of is not the real self. I have in my mind the idea of another self altogether, of which this is a partial manifestation. This self that you are referring to has another Self beyond it, transcendent to it, and exceeding it in all limits. How I contemplate on the self you are speaking of is that it is endowed with another Self altogether, possessed of another dimension, larger than this self in which it is contained, of which this lesser self is a part, an expression, the very existence of this part being due to the existence of that other Self. There is a wider Self than the self you are contemplating. This individual self, this self of yours, this 'me' you are referring to, is not the true Self. It is only an indication, a symbol of that larger Being which, from my point of view, is the true Self, the only existence. I meditate on that Ātman not the one you seem to know. And you know the result of such a meditation. You become cosmically aware, and you get endowed with a consciousness of the higher Self of which the lower self is an expression. Ātmanvīnī hᾱsya prajᾱ bhavati: One's progency, like the progency of Janaka of ancient tradition, becomes possessed of this knowledge." When Ajātaśatru spoke thus, Bālāki maintained silence. He did not say anything further. Sa ha tῡṣṇīm ᾱsa gᾱrgyaḥ: He held his peace, for his bag was empty.
When Bālāki did not speak further, kept quiet, Ajātaśatru queried: "Is this all, or is there anything further for you to tell me; is everything over?" Etᾱvad-dhīti: "That is all," he replied. "I have nothing else to tell." So, the chapter of instruction which Bālāki gave to Ajātaśatru is complete. Then, naitᾱvatᾱ viditam bhavatiti, Ajātaśatru spoke: "With this, one does not become learned. With this little learning that you have, and have posed before me, you cannot be said to have known Brahman." Sa hovᾱca gᾱrgyaḥ upa tvᾱyᾱnīti: Gārgya understood where actually he was positioned. "Yes; I appreciate what you say. I, now, approach you as your disciple. There is no other alternative for me. I came with the idea of teaching you. Now I have to stand before you as your student."
Ajātaśatru speaks: "This is very strange. How is it possible that ou come to me as a disciple? This is contrary to accepted tradition, because you are a Brāhmaṇa, and I am a Kṣatriya. Kṣatriyas learn from Brāhmaṇas, not the other way round. So, how is it possible that a learned Brāhmaṇa like you comes to me, a ruling king, a Kṣatriya, a prince, for instruction on Brahma-Vidyā? This has never happened up to this time, and it should not happen also. I cannot take you as my disciple. It is not permissible, as you know well. However, I can enlighten you on the subject. I shall tell you what the truth is, without considering myself as your master, regarding you as my disciple." And, what did Ajātaśatru say? He took Bālāki by the hand, led him somewhere near a person who was fast asleep. He then called that person who was sleeping, accosted him by the name of the Prāṇa which was the object of Bālāki's meditation, reference to which has been made in the section we have passed through already. Tam etair nᾱmabhir ᾱmantrayᾱm cakre, bṛhan pᾱṇḍara-vᾱsaḥ soma rᾱjann iti: sa nottasthau: "O white-robed one (that was the object of Bālāki's meditation), Soma-rājann, the Prāṇa residing in the moon, get up from sleep." But the man did not wake up when he was called by the name of the Prāṇa in this manner. Tam pᾱṇinᾱ peṣam bodhayᾱṁ cakᾱra, sa hottasthau: Then Ajātaśatru pushed that man with his hand, two or three times, shook him strongly. And the sleeping person woke up at once. This becomes an occasion for further instruction on the nature of the Self.
Wherever our consciousness is, that is the location of our self, also. So, where are we in the waking state? We are split into a thousand fragments in the waking condition. We are not an integrate personality in waking. We are distracted individuals and have no peace of mind when we are awake. We run here and there in the waking state, for the reason that we are already split into fragments. We are cut into parts. We are never wholes in the waking state. And so it is difficult, in the waking condition, to analyse the true nature of the self. The sleeping condition is an appropriate symbol for teaching the nature of the true Self, or the Ātman, in the individual, due to which reason Ajātaśatru u took Bālāki to a sleeping individual, rather than to a waking one. The waking one may appear as good as the sleeping one. But, what is the difference? Both are individuals, both are human beings; in both the self exists, no doubt. But the difference is that consciousness is not centred in itself in the waking state. It is, then, outside among objects. It is meandering through all sundry things, and, therefore, the teaching in the waking condition is more difficult than in the context of sleep. What happens in sleep? Ajātaśatru says that the self is withdrawn in sleep. It is in the centre of itself. It is in the cosmic space, the ether of consciousness - eso'ntar-hṛdaya ᾱkᾱṣaḥ tasmiñ chete.
Tᾱni yadᾱ gṛhṇᾱti atha haitat puruṣaḥ svapiti: When everything is withdrawn by the self into itself, that state is called Svapa, or Svapna, in Sanskrit - svapiti nᾱma. Tad gṛhīta eva prᾱṇo bhavati, gṛhītᾱ vᾱk, gṛhītaṁ cakṣuḥ, gṛhītaṁ śrotram, gṛhītaṁ manaḥ: What happens in sleep? The Prāṇas are drawn back to the self. They gravitate towards the self, rather than to objects of sense. Speech also is withdrawn; you cannot express anything in language, during sleep. The eyes are withdrawn; you cannot see anything there. The ears are withdrawn; you cannot hear anything. The mind, too, is withdrawn; you cannot think, also. All transaction with external things is put an end to and one remains what one really is in the state of deep sleep. And when one is disturbed from sleep, one enters into a state of reverie called dream. And in dream what happens is that the impressions of the experiences one had in waking become objects of experience. So the world of dreams is nothing but the world of impressions of past experience.