The Relevance of the Bhagavadgita to Humanity

The First Six Chapters of the Bhagavadgita

by Swami Krishnananda

Chapter 2: The Sabha Parva of the Mahabharata

The great epic called the Mahabharata consists of eighteen books, and each book is called a Parva. In Sanskrit, parva means a halting place, a section, a part or a volume, we may say, of a great text. There are eighteen such books which form the immortal epic of the Mahabharata, and the names of these eighteen books, or Parvas, are as follows: Adi Parva, Sabha Parva, Aranya Parva, Virata Parva, Udyoga Parva, Bhishma Parva, Drona Parva, Karna Parva, Shalya Parva, Sauptika Parva, Stri Parva, Shanti Parva, Anushasana Parva, Ashvamedhika Parva, Ashramavasika Parva, Mausala Parva, Mahaprasthanika Parva, and Svargarohana Parva. You will be very pleasantly surprised to visualise the whole story of man, as it were, in this wondrous series of the ascent of the Parvas, the rise of thought from level to level in this beautifully conceived human saga called the Mahabharata epic.

The first book confines itself to the infant stage of the Pandava and Kaurava brothers. Incidentally, it is also a description of the infant stage of any living being. It is a state of ignorance. Little babies are beautiful because of their knowing nothing. Everything attracts sympathy when it is a small child; it may be even the child of a lion, of a tiger, of a dog, of even a snake, what to speak of others. Even a little crawling tiny baby of a snake will attract sympathy, but not the grown-up snake. The innocence, ignorance, incapacity, helplessness, total dependence, and many other interesting factors contribute to the reason behind this dangerous beauty of babyhood. The Pandavas and the Kauravas were totally oblivious of their future. It was a joyous, jubilant, playful age of the little children, princes born in a royal family. They were together, and they were immensely friendly. They were one family, and it was all love and brotherhood and intense affection that prevailed in that childhood of the royal family.

But even a little snake will show its hood. In the beginning, it simply crawls without raising its head. The little cub of the tiger will tell you, “I am a tiger, and don't mistake me for anybody else.” Even older children will slowly begin to manifest tendencies of psychic vagaries and become a little naughty and uncontrollable. They are not so very palatable and handsome as they were earlier when they were on the lap of the mother. We have to be careful to note what these potentialities of a human being, or of anything, are.

We are going to be told in the Mahabharata what the potentialities of these children in the royal family of the Pandavas and the Kauravas were. We will be surprised at all the things we have in ourselves. We have every blessed thing. There is nothing that we do not have. Each one began to manifest his potentiality. There is a vociferous tendency also present in us, side by side with an affectionate tendency. It is not that we are capable only of affection; we are capable of many other things also. Our capability beggars description. There is nothing we are not capable of. Immense affection, kindness, goodness – yes, we are capable of that. And we can trample on somebody's foot, and on the head of somebody. Even this is not impossible for us. “Down you go to hell!” you may cry to a man, even if he be your own brother. “To hell you go! I will bury you alive.” These are also our capacities, capabilities. And wondrous capabilities of genius, scholarship, art, music, and happy behaviour are also our potentiality.

These started manifesting themselves. Gradually there was a split in the ideology of these children. For what reason do people hate one another? Is there a reason behind it? We do not require a reason for hatred, even as love also does not require much of a reason. Perhaps, love and hatred have no reason behind them. The moment we apply reason, they cease to be affections and hatreds. So it is not that only reason is present with us; unreason also operates. There is a potentiality for the capacity to defy every kind of rational attitude. “I cannot listen to you. Don't talk to me.” Sometimes we say that, and is it a rational attitude? We have decided not to listen; we have decided not to do something, or we have decided to do it. This kind of attitude is the expression of another faculty in the human being, which is not reason. There are many other things also inside us. We are a Pandora's box. If we are opened, anything can be found in us. I am not trying to expatiate on any special field of human psychology here. The subject is something else.

The Pandavas and the Kauravas were happy children. Slowly they became unhappy children. What a wonder! Don't you believe that we slowly become more and more unhappy when we grow in age? Or are we going to be more and more happy? Let each one think of himself or herself. “I have been a daughter, I have been a son of so-and-so, I have come out from the womb of the mother, and I was a happy little child playing in the garden of the house. Now, am I more happy today than I was at that time due to my studies, due to my activities, due to my being busy with this or that occupation?” Let each one find out. “Am I more happy today than when I was a little child, or am I more unhappy?” You will not be able to have a clear answer to this question. You may say, “Yes, I don't think I am as happy as I was, but…” Now, that 'but' is a very crucial question. You would not like to be a baby merely because of the fact that babyhood is a happier state. Otherwise, who would like to grow up into the adult condition?

Immediately the potentiality to observe difference, which is also latent in every self-centred being, began to manifest. Difference is also a reality in one realm of the expression of the universe. We say the whole thing is unity, which may be true in one sense. At one stage, in one condition, from one point of view, it is a unity. But in another condition, from another point of view, from another angle of vision, it is all variety. So the potentiality that is capable of quick expression manifests itself first, like a disease that is ready to erupt at once, among many other kinds of illnesses that we may also be having. The unity which may be the basic fact of our nature does not manifest itself always, though it will manifest itself under conditions. But the conditions in which the empirical individual being lives do not permit the manifestation of unity, and what is capable of expression is that which is sanctioned by the atmosphere. Intense body-consciousness, intense sex-consciousness, intense family-consciousness, intense community-consciousness, and race-consciousness, colour-consciousness, economic conditions which differentiate people into princes and beggars – these are also capacities, characteristics, which we cannot easily forget. The son of a king will not forget that he is the son of a king. He will not say, “I am man like any other man.” He may be right in feeling that also. Certainly he is a man like any other man. Why should he not think like that? Why should he say, “I am the prince and he is a beggar”? Why should only this trait manifest itself in a person, and not the other one, which is also equally true? When it is true that the king and the beggar are both human beings, why is it that one does not feel this similarity, but feels only the difference? Why should we insist on the difference, and not on the similarity? What is the peculiarity in us which evokes only the trait of difference and not the character of uniformity?

This is because of the peculiar psychic level in which we operate at a particular time. We are not solid masses of metal. We are now concerned with the human personality more than any other living being. None of us is one heap, like a brick or a lump of iron or a nugget of gold. We are not such indivisible, solid matter. We are layers of compressed power, energy, potentiality and force. As a building is made up of little pieces, we are also constituted of little brickwork, an analysis of which has been dexterously conducted by ancient Indian philosophers particularly, right from the time of the Upanishads, the Taittiriya Upanishad, etc., where human personality has been analysed threadbare into the five koshas, five layers: the physical, the vital, the sensory and the mental, the intellectual, the causal, and the spiritual.

It is not easy for us to understand what these layers are, though we might have heard it repeated a hundred times. We seem to understand – yes, these are the layers, the sheaths, we say, koshas: annamaya, pranamaya, manomaya, vijnanamaya, anandamaya. And finally the Atman is there at the root and the base of every one of us, which is said to be commensurate, coextensive, co-eternal with all existence, and eternity itself. We are heirs apparent of this wondrous possibility also, but we are not always operating on this level.

I gave you a small example how we cannot believe that we are only human beings, notwithstanding the fact we are human beings. We have other ways of describing ourselves, and I gave you a specimen of how we describe ourselves. These differences arise due to the level in which we operate. Modern psychologists, parapsychologists, etc., tell us there are levels in us. Alpha, beta, and all these levels are supposed to be in our mental operations. These are modern terms, comparable to these levels I mentioned already in a traditional fashion.

In what level are you functioning at present? This is for you to think deeply. “Am I now operating in the causal level, in the intellectual level, in the sensational, emotional, feeling level of mind, or an intensely sensuous level, or am I intensely physical?” This requires a little bit of deep brooding over one's own self. Whatever be the level in which you are functioning, that characteristic will manifest in you, not necessarily the other features which are also the properties of certain other levels. The Atman's characteristics will not manifest themselves in you, though you are the Atman. Nobody can have Atman qualities; everyone knows that, and it is a very unfortunate state of affairs.

We are also not functioning as pure intelligence, intellect, reason. As I have said, it does not look like we are always reasonable and rational. We have other traits which sometimes seem to be more palatable to us. We are intensely sensuous, empiric in our outlook. Much more than that, we seem to be physically bound. We are material bodies. Hunger and thirst, heat and cold, tell us that we are not far away from the physical body. It is no use theorising too much. It is good to be practical, matter of fact, and call a spade a spade, as they say. It is good to be honest to one's own self. “I do not like to be bad in any sense of the term, but if I have any bad qualities, it is good to know that they are there.” That is the realisation of what you are in order that you may overcome that level, and step into another one. While it is good for you to know your capacities and powers, it is not bad to know your weaknesses. You should also know your weaknesses. If you are ignorant of your weaknesses, you would not know even your powers. It is like an Army General, a Field Marshal. He may be a powerful leader, but he is not expected to overestimate his own strength without knowing the limitations which also may be part of his nature, and the presence of other powers encountering and confronting him, such as the opposite party, and so on.

Swami Sivanandaji Maharaj never tired of saying that we must have a spiritual diary for questioning ourselves every day: what I am and how I am, and so on. Secretly, put a question to yourself: “Am I so important as I appear, or am I a foolhardy person? Something is wrong with me, and I must remove this weakness in me. I have decided that from tomorrow onwards I shall move earth and heaven to remove my weakness. I am very sorry I have this weakness. I shall remove it.” Gurus, Masters, saints, sages, and scriptures have told us also that there are ways of overcoming weaknesses.

Now I am digressing from this field to tell you the point that I was driving at, that we have various potentialities and tendencies in place. Why do people behave in different ways, and not in a uniform way? Why should the Pandavas be like that, and the Kauravas be like that? Why should I be like this, and you be like that? Why is this like this, and that like that? It has to be like that because of the particular stage of evolution of the psyche in which one finds oneself at a given moment of time. It does not appear that everything is manifest at one stroke. There is what is called the system of the degrees of evolution; therefore, it is impossible for us to expect all humanity to entertain a single thought always, though that would be a happy thing. Let all people think only this thought, and one thought only. Why two thoughts? Then all the human beings will be one person only. That would be a happy state of affairs. This cannot happen because of the varieties in the levels of expression of the psyche, and these are the reasons behind confrontations, conflicts, and irreconcilable differences and tendencies.

So we are capable of differences also, and we are forced to work on the level of difference only, due to the fact of our each one being ourselves, each one of us being in a different state of evolution. Clash takes place. I cannot agree with you, I am jealous of you, etc. This was what happened when the children grew up in the palace of the great king. They did not like each other. This is the Adi Parva of the Mahabharata. They started scratching, showing tooth and claw, hurling somebody down into the dust, and even attempting to finish off a person by hook or by crook.

Schoolboys are notorious in such behaviours even these days. Very unreasonable, rowdy behaviour, and for a little, meaningless, insignificant cause, they can kick up a huge row, and a war can take place. This happens in schools and colleges. Sometimes students even die in this scuffle, for nothing. It can be cricket or football, or even a drinking tap, a place to sit at a desk in a school, or any blessed thing. These potentialities, the manner of their expressions, are majestically described in the Adi Parva.

But we recover ourselves. A little sense arises in us. We get educated and we try to reconcile our differences. It is true we live in difference. One cannot agree with the other entirely. This is perfectly true, and everyone knows it. No person anywhere can entirely agree with another. Yet, we make a concession. “It is believed that this kind of life is no life at all. Total disagreement always, in every way, does not mean anything. So in spite of the fact that there is a basic difference of attitude, a kind of concession is made by each one so that they may live a life of community. I shall share with you, and you share with me. I shall live happily, and you also live happily. How can we live like wolves? It is not possible.”

This state of complacence and tentative satisfaction by mutual concession, a feeling that everything is all right, is a very deceptive feeling. It was a politically manoeuvred satisfaction, and we cannot trust that kind of truce and that kind of agreement for a long time. Nevertheless, we cannot also distrust it. We have to say, “Yes, I think we have come to a conclusion, and an agreement has been arrived at. We shall not anymore be contending parties. We have shared our ideas and our property. We shall be friends because it is necessary for you to be in peace, and it is necessary for me also to be in peace.” Yes, it is okay for the time being, but inwardly I am jealous. Why should I have to make a sacrifice for this person? I shall see that this person is put down immediately. I have made a sacrifice, and it was done because of the necessity to bring about a kind of peaceful atmosphere, but I don't like it. Why should that person have anything? I shall have everything.

In the Sabha Parva of the Mahabharata, the second book, a tentative deceptive glory of royalty is described. There was an agreement among the cousin-brothers, who originally had a jealous feeling among themselves, and by some agreement brought about by elders and pressure exerted upon by the differing parties, for some reason or the other, some good thing came out. Each one was bestowed with some blessing. Everyone was happy. The Pandavas were in the height of glory. They were crowned kings, and so were the others.

So is the joy of adolescence. All kinds of ideas come to our minds when we are adolescent youths. It appears as if the whole world is dabbed with honey and milk, and there are no thorns anywhere in the world. It is all glory. “I shall do this, I shall do that, I shall become this, I shall become that.” Young people have such ideas, because it is the period of the budding of the potential energy of the human individual. All the energies come up into action. There is the rising up of every kind of capacity in you at that time, and it is up to you to choose which line you are going to follow. It is, therefore, a very difficult period, adolescence. You cannot understand yourself, and others also cannot understand you fully. You do not know what you are at, what you expect in this world, what you want to become, what vocation you want to pursue, and so on, and others cannot understand your ideas. But you are ready to pursue any line of action. All the energies are ready for action, like an army ready for any kind of order to be issued to it, and now it depends upon what order you are going to issue. Stand still, go forward, retreat – any order can be issued to the army.

All the potentialities in us – biological, psychological, emotional, volitional, and even a little bit of rational faculty – rise up into action, and it is a flower trying to effloresce from its stage of bud. All was beautiful, but there was the sting of future sorrow. That also was a potential in this beauty of the growing and budding adolescence. The latter part of the Sabha Parva of the Mahabharata unleashes the sword which was hidden under the armpit of a satisfaction and a false complacency, and it was a great surprise indeed that a friend could unleash his sword suddenly, and rise into action and ambush. This was done unexpectedly, as it were, by those people who did the sacrifice, agreed to a truce, and said that everything is fine. But my dear friends, it was not fine. The world is not so very sweet as it appears on the surface. It has many other potentialities. “I shall tell you what they are,” said the Kauravas to the Pandavas. With this, the Sabha Parva concludes.