We are in a field of the opposition of the forces, which work simultaneously in the universe outside and in the personality of ours inwardly. The universe is a battlefield in the sense of this metaphysical description of the constitution of the universe. We will understand why the Bhagavadgita is given in the context of a war and not in a chapel, a convent, a temple of worship. The universe is a temple, no doubt, in one sense, it is the shrine of the Supreme Being, the Absolute. We can adore anything and everything as God. But it is not to be done in a spirit of exclusiveness or isolation of any kind. Temporal perception works in a threefold manner presenting this picture of creation as a permutation and combination of Sattva, Rajas and Tamas. The very first verse of the Bhagavadgita brings to highlight two important words, ‘Dharmakshetra’ and ‘Kurukshetra’,—significant terms indeed. The universe is a field of tremendous activity, of conflict and warfare. It is also a field of justice and law. ‘Kurukshetra’ is ‘Dharmakshetra’. There is a law that integrates these apparently conflicting powers in the same way as there is a law inside us which integrates the cells of our physical body into a wholeness of personality. Every cell of our body is different from the other. It can disintegrate, and when the life force is withdrawn from it, it dissolves itself into the five elements, it decays, decomposes itself and loses its oneness. Every thought is different from every other thought. We can think one thousand things everyday, and yet we know we are the person thinking these one thousand things. ‘I thought something yesterday and I am thinking something today; though there is no apparent connection between yesterday’s thought and today’s thought, yet, I know that there is connection, because I am the person thinking these thoughts.’ There is an integration of the psychic structure as well as the physical body. This is the ‘Dharma’, the law which organises things. Law is a name that we give to the system which organises bodies into a completeness or a meaningful wholeness, instead of their being thrown as scattered particulars or a meaningless chaos. Dharma is law, we may also call it justice. That which is in consonance with the system of the universe is the justice of the universe, and the way in which this justice operates in terms of the various particularities is the law. There is activity, there is movement, there is change, there is transformation,—all pointing to an apparent diversity of things. But this is not the whole truth of the matter. There is an organisation everywhere, right from the atom to the solar system. Even an atom is not a chaos, there is a balance maintained by the constituents of the atom, the electrons getting conditioned and ruled by a central nucleus, and the solar system working beautifully by the power of the Sun who organises the system. A similar power is working within ourselves, on account of which we are individuals, a completely organised body. Our personality is not a disorderly heap. We have a capacity to think consistently, logically, and in an organised manner. There is a Dharma operating everywhere, in the whole cosmos, the entire creation, in our own self, in the atom, in everything, notwithstanding the fact that there is distraction, difference, individualisation, egoism, and externalisation. The bringing together of these two tendencies in all things is the purpose of Yoga. Neither are we to lean externally, too much on visible phenomena and be busy-bodies who have lost the soul, nor are we expected to be hibernating frogs in the crevice of our individuality, unrelated to the outer world. The whole teaching of the Gita is centred on balance, equanimity, a putting in order of everything that is not in order,—Samatva. Things do not appear to be in order or in a state of harmony because of a preponderance of this externalising power known as Rajas. There is struggle everywhere, in everything, at all times, a struggle, to maintain a balance. All struggle is an effort towards the maintenance of equilibrium in any field of life, in any plane of existence. The laws of various types,—the governmental law, the social law, the communal law, the family law arid various other systems of management,—signify one and the same thing, namely, the necessity to maintain harmony, and it has to be maintained everywhere, in every walk of life, in any given moment of time. If there is a lack of balance anywhere, in any part of our body, for instance, or in any part of human society, there is then an anxiety creeping into our experience, at once. We are unhappy if there is a little thorn pricking the sole of our foot, and our joy goes away in a second. If there is some intractable element in society, which is disturbing the peace of the minds of people, we are obliged to be conscious of its existence and are also compelled to see what means can be adopted in setting right the situation. Even a single incoherent element is sufficient to disturb the entire balance, just as an ear-ache is enough to make us grieve the whole day. The point is that there should not be any occasion for misbalance even in the slightest manner, and the whole of Yoga is a comprehensive approach to the situation of cosmic conflict which sympathetically reflects itself in every individual, also.

That conflict there is, is obvious enough. We all know that the world is wretched. We complain about the world everyday that it is stupid and it is going to dogs. We are very much concerned about the future, but we are not fully awakened to the needs of the hour and the means that are to be employed and the way we have to conduct ourselves under such circumstances. We are not in a state of Yoga. We only perceive things as they happen outwardly in the world of space and time. We are sense-ridden, entangled completely in the perceptions of the senses. We are living in a sense-world and we are wholly relying upon the reports of the senses. We do not exercise our reason and understanding to the extent necessary to counterbalance the distracted reports that we receive from the senses. Our reason is not strong, our understanding is feeble, but the senses are vigorous, they are impetuous; so low we are in the cadre of creation. We have fallen very low indeed, while the senses are active and rebellious. The organising power in us, the understanding, is not equally powerful. One can imagine the state of affairs if individuals who rebel are stronger than the organising power of a government. This is what has happened to us. The organising power in us, called reason and understanding, is not able to cope up with the situation of conflict that is presented before us in experience by the senses that work in terms of the objects outside. We are slaves to the senses and not their masters. We stoop down every moment to the level of the demand of a particular sense organ; and this cannot be regarded as freedom of any kind. Whatever the senses say is acquiesced in by our reason and understanding, by our knowledge and education, by our culture, and everything that we have is a subsidiary stooge; as it were, to these revolting dacoits called the senses. The. Bhagavadgita does not want this circumstance to continue.

There should be a strong organising force, a Central Government, to establish a central administration in the cosmos, and, as a consequence thereof, in our own selves and in society. This is to enter into the field of Yoga. We generally argue in terms of human society or human relationship and not in the light of reason and the higher understanding. We have a poor religion and a sentimental argument to justify our social conditions. But we have not got the understanding or the reason enough to awaken ourselves to the existence of the higher power of Dharma, the power of God, the law of the universe, and the Bhagavadgita takes its stand as a good teacher in a school or a college and leads us by our hand by degrees to the various levels to which we have to rise for the purpose of the real freedom that we have to achieve. The greater the operation of law and justice, the greater is its intensity of action, the greater is the freedom that we are assured. Salvation and freedom mean the same thing, and a recognition of the law and obedience to this law is necessary in order to achieve true freedom. If we do not know how the law of the universe operates in relation to ourselves and other things, if we are oblivious of the law of our own country, how can we abide by that law? We are ignorant of the law, and so we are likely to blunder, and we are blundering everyday, and every error in respect of the law is to court punishment from the law. The punishment comes upon us as a grief, a sorrow, an unhappiness, an insecurity, a feeling that something is wrong.

The Bhagavadgita places us in the context of human society at the very outset, the situation in which we are today. We are nationals of a country, and we are human beings with a relationship obtaining in mankind as a whole. We always think in terms of human relationship. It is well-known that we argue in this manner. This is the subject of the first chapter of the Bhagavadgita, where the whole social structure is taken as the stand for the argument in connection with any action to be taken under a particular situation, and taking Arjuna as the symbol of mankind, the epic of the Mahabharata in its gospel of the Bhagavadgita tells us how we think as individuals. We are faced with a warring situation and our activities in daily life are our efforts to face the battle. The work that we do in our office, the labour that we put forth in a factory, or any other work that we do in any walk of life, is the effort we put forth to resolve a conflict and solve a situation. But we do not always do it properly, and so a factory worker need not be happy, and an office-goer need not be satisfied. Our activities need not bring us happiness: We stoop down to the state of utter hopelessness and wretchedness, because we have not found time to walk with the light of reason and the justice of the universe. We cannot see this law with our eyes, just as we cannot see a government for instance. Anything that is impersonal cannot be seen with the eyes. We cannot see even money, we see a piece of paper called a note or a metal piece called coin, but money is something different. It is a value that is imbedded in the symbol called note or coin and that value cannot be seen with the eyes. The higher law is an impersonal operation and, therefore, it is not an object of the senses. Inasmuch as we are depending on the senses for our achievement and judgement of things, we are unable to take advantage of the existence of impersonal powers, reason and insight. Arjuna was in this condition. He was thinking in terms of his relationships with people, as a son of so-and-so, a nephew, etc., with ulterior motives behind. Even as we gird up our loins to do something very vigorously everyday, Arjuna got ready to embark upon a war. ‘We shall do this,’ is our determination in the early morning of the day. So was the contemplation in the mind of Arjuna, and all people on his side. They decided that certain steps were to be taken, and the decision was complete. There was a necessity to implement the decision. This implementation of the decision is the entering into the field of battle. This is also the entering of ourselves into the field of the practice of Yoga, towards which the Bhagavadgita will take us.