The Relevance of the Bhagavadgita to Humanity

The First Six Chapters of the Bhagavadgita

by Swami Krishnananda

Chapter 10: The Need for Sankhya

The interdependence of human society was one of the points which was taken up as a position to substantiate human responsibility in respect of all humanity. The fact of interdependence of human society would enable us to conceive humanity as a single person. All mankind is one man, as it were. All persons constitute one person. This conclusion would follow from the appreciation of the fact that the units forming human society are interdependent, interdeterminant and interconditioning – we may say, even interexistent. Thus comes the necessity on the part of each unit in human society to contribute its little might for the solidarity, structural stability and well-being of this total reality which we call humanity.

The character, the nature of this contribution, which is the duty that one has to perform in respect to society, differs according to the position that each unit occupies. This is very important to remember. Human beings want knowledge, but inasmuch as no human being is omniscient and omnipotent, each one is not expected to know everything and be capable of doing everything. The different gradations of evolutionary position in which people find themselves would sanction the kind of contribution that can be expected from them and, broadly speaking, this classification of duty has been arranged in a fourfold fashion. The traditional names for these classifications were Brahmin, Kshatriya, Vaishya, and Sudra which, actually, in an impartial manner, mean spiritual power, administrative power, economic power and manpower. This is a very beautiful setup conceived by the ancient sages for not only the stability of society but also for the inner growth of society from the lesser levels to the higher levels.

Thus, there is no person who is totally exempt from the performance of some duty or other. It is impossible to exempt anyone. It is so because of the fact that everyone forms part of the society. It is no use saying that we are not part of society. That also is not a possibility. Whoever exists in society is a part of society. A mere proclamation from one's own side that one is not a part does not become a sanction for one's independence. Śarīrayātrāpi ca te na prasidhyed akarmaṇaḥ (BG 3.8) is a passage from the Bhagavadgita: Even our physical existence cannot be possible if we assert such a type of independence. This egoism is not permitted under the law of nature. Even our physical existence is conditioned by the contributions made by many other units of human society.

Honest, dispassionate thinking is necessary here, and everyone has to be humble enough to realise the extent of one's dependence on external factors. No one is the creator of the universe, and no one is so vastly occupied with power that one can be totally independent. Nothing can be independent in this world of interconnections, interrelations. Therefore, we have a duty, and what our duty is, is to be decided by the position we are occupying in the structure of the human society, our knowledge, and our capacity: guna karma vibhagasah (BG 4.13). Details of this guna karma vibhaga, the classification of human function and duty in the light of the gunas that constitute and operate in the human personality, will be explained in a little greater detail in the Eighteenth Chapter.

We have a social duty. It is simple common sense. It does not require much of a study and logical understanding. Any sensible person will realise that there is mutual give and take of assistance. So, from this point of view also, we cannot say we shall do nothing. That is not a possibility.

Secondly, there is a fear that the body will die. The argument from the physical point of view also is brought out in a simple, homely manner. There is no body which will not die: jātasya hi dhruvo mṛtyur dhruvaṁ janma mṛtasya ca, tasmād aparihāryerthe na tvaṁ śocitum arhasi (BG 2.27). It is an unfounded imagination that by not doing anything we will be protecting our body, and that we will be endangering our physical existence by entering into the fray of human enterprise. There is no one who will not be subjected to death, physically speaking. If we accept that the body had a beginning, it shall also have an end, and no one knows when that end will come.

Mātrāsparśās (BG 2.14), or the contact of the senses with physical objects, is brought as an illustration of one of the conditioning factors of the duration of the physical existence in the world. This is a slightly complicated matter. How long can we live in this world? Humanly it is not possible to measure this duration, but there is a background for the duration or the span of life of each person in the world. It is not visible to the eyes and cannot be contemplated by the human mind, because these conditions are beyond ordinary individual comprehension.

The physical body is said to be an embodiment of the forces of karmas, or the effects produced by one's desires and actions. Now, they condition the body in a very important manner. The body does not exist unnecessarily. We do not live here in this body for nothing; there is a purpose in it, and it will be in this world as long as the purpose for which it has been manufactured has not been fulfilled. As a silkworm manufactures a cocoon, as a spider spins a web from its mouth, as the subtle can concentrate itself into a gross object, as gas can become liquid and liquid can become solid, similarly, the potentialities of longing or desire within the mind of a particular individual are for certain types of expression and enjoyment through contact with externals. These potentialities for self-expression in this manner will decide the duration of physical existence in a particular space-time complex, and also the kind of experiences one has to pass through.

The pertinent sutra of Patanjali in his Yoga System is relevant here. Jāti āyuḥ bhogāḥ (Y.S. 2.13): The species into which one is born, the length of life which one will enjoy in a particular sojourn in this world, and the experiences that one will pass through are all decided already even in the mother's womb. Due to the fact that all the potentiality for further expression in life outside are in the seed form at the very root of manifestation, the kind of impulsion of mind, the type of this desire and the intensity of it will decide the length of the physical existence, and also the kind of experiences that one has to pass through. Therefore, the body has to end one day. The momentum of the force of desires is the conditioning factor.

Sometimes another illustration is brought out to make the matter clear. You must have seen a potter's wheel. Potters have a wheel by which they manufacture an earthen pot. The wheel is turned with the power of the hand. It is pushed with a particular momentum, and once it is pushed, it shall spin for some time. Now, the time for which it will be independently moving without being touched by the hand will depend upon the intensity of the push given to it. In a similar manner, the length of life that we will live in this world will depend upon the push that has been given by our desire to exist in this world. So, in a way, we wanted to live in this world. We wanted to live in this world only, and not in some other world. This is another argument why we should not make complaints. We have not to make complaints, because we wanted to come to this world only. We should not ask, “Why did God create this world?” because if we had no desire to come to this world, we would not have come to this world.

However, the physical body is subject to destruction, inasmuch as it had a beginning, and it shall have a rebirth. This is again something very interesting to note: A death of the physical body need not necessarily mean the death of desires, because the desiring principle is not the physical element. It is the mind, the psyche, that desires.

We have a very beautiful analysis of the psychic pattern of desires in our ancient scriptures, namely, the potentialities, the storehouses of desires in the deepest recesses of our being. For our convenience we may call them the unconscious level of our being – karmas which are like a large heap in a godown of a grocery shop. A lot of things are kept there, out of which something is brought out for retail sale by the shopkeeper. He does not bring everything outside; he brings out as much as is necessary, as is required for the day. There is a storage of commodities inside in the main godown, and when he brings things outside for retail sale and finds that the godown is getting exhausted, he will replenish it by adding further commodities to it.

Now, this godown which contains all the stuff is what is called in Sanskrit sanchita karma, the accumulated potentiality of all the desires collected from eons and heaped up like thick layers of cloud, which makes us unconscious at that time. The retail commodity which is brought out by the shopkeeper is this prarabdha karma. Prarabdha is the tentative allotment of a certain quantum of goods taken out from the original godown for the purpose of experience; it is a doling out, in terms of daily experience. This physical body, this physical life, this physical existence of ours here in this particular kind of world is a portion allotted out of the more potential and deeper possibilities already existing within us, and these potentialities are not visible. They are locked up inside us.

Now, we may sometimes be afraid that this inner stock may be exhausted, so we go on adding to it by performing new actions every day. We have to be very careful living in this world. We commit blunders many a time, adding forces of bondage to our mortal existence. How do we do that? By projecting further and further, more and more desire-filled actions. If the allotted portion is going to be exhausted little by little, and nothing more is to be added to the original stock, it is likely that it can be exhausted sometime. But we are not so wise. Desires are like leeches which cling to a person and will not leave that person free. The more we experience pleasure out of sense contact, the more is the impression created for further repetition of that contact. The more we enjoy, still more is the want; the more we want, the more is the desire, the more is the impression, the more is the potentiality for further longing, more action, and so on. In this manner we add to the existing stock, and the cycle of birth and death never ends.

Anyway, this physical body has a beginning and an end. However much we try to guard it by our imagined state of non-action, it will not survive. So why be so greedy about this body? Mrityu, death, should not deter us from entering into the field of duty, whatever that duty be as sanctioned in accordance with our stature in this world of nature and of human society.

Now comes the third argument. Emotionally, you will be disturbed. If you are a renegade, a runaway, or a parasite, you would consider this life of degradation worse than death. Suppose that nobody wants to talk to you. “This stupid ass,” they call you, and nobody considers you as worthwhile. You would be a nobody in this world. You would be considered as a renegade, and for a person such as yourself who has enjoyed a reputation as a respected hero, worshipped, adored, to live with this ignominy would be worse than dying.

Now, these are tentative replies, not the real reply. You cannot start replying in a positive and philosophical, mathematical, logical manner in the beginning itself. Whatever has been said up to this time is a kind of reply, as a friend speaking to a friend. “It is good, it is interesting, it is understandable, and I accept it, yes. But still, that is not sufficient.” The more potent aspect and pertinent feature of this argument is that all these things that the individual trots out as arguments for non-action are based on non-understanding. What makes you conclude that non-action is a great virtue and is going to bring you great good? How do you conclude that this is the way of living? It would be the argument of many people that not doing anything and keeping quiet is a blessed way of living. “Why should I do anything? Let me be happy.” Now, how do you come to this conclusion? On what grounds? This is not possible. There is some mistake in your way of thinking. Your understanding is clouded. Let alone what little things I have told you in a friendly manner from the point of view of pure common sense, but there is something more serious about it, namely, that your understanding itself is unclear. You do not know the nature of things. You have no idea as to how the world is constituted. Sankhya is what you lack. The great Lord has put his finger on the knob. You have no knowledge of sankhya. Sankhya means originally the wisdom of life, the knowledge of life, the art of living, and an insight into the structure of the world. This you lack. If you know what this world is made of and how you are related to it, you will certainly understand what your position is in this world. Then one need not tell you what you should do. If you know your position under a given condition, you will know what to do at that time. But you do not know where you are placed. You are clouded in your understanding of the circumstances of your very existence; therefore, yoga, which is right action, is barred from you due to the absence of sankhya, which is right knowledge.

You cannot have access to the field of right action unless you are equipped with right knowledge first. All right action is based on right knowledge. Understanding always comes first, and behaviour comes afterwards. You cannot move a finger unless you know how to move it, so it is theory first and practice afterwards, as it is in the case of our secular sciences also. The methodology is to be clear first. The technology has to be appreciated in the beginning. We have to be trained well in the theoretical side, the logical side, the scientific side; then we will come to the practical side. So in one way we may say that the word 'yoga' used in the Bhagavadgita, especially in the earlier stages, say from the beginning of the Second Chapter, may be considered as indicating action rightly performed; and sankhya is knowledge.

The word 'sankhya' is to indicate the nature of the knowledge that is necessary to live in this world. Many explanations have been offered by teachers and exponents to make out the meaning of the word sankhya. Sankhya means 'number'. Categorisation, classification, numbering, counting – all these mean sankhya. And originally the system of philosophy known as the Sankhya was mainly concerned with the categorisation or the classification of the principles of cosmic evolution. From that system which was engaged in this work of the classification of the basic principles of the cosmos, the word 'sankhya' may have got identified with the word 'knowledge', jnana. Sankhya and jnana mean the same thing. We may consider sankhya as right understanding of the operation of nature, the structure of things and the character of the whole of creation. This you lack. Therefore, you go on blabbering something, saying whatever you like, and imagining that what you said is correct. If you had an insight into the basic components of the world, you would have also known your relationship to it, and you would not have said anything. You would have known everything clearly, as in daylight. Why should anybody tell you that something is there in daylight? You can see it for yourself. But your eyes are blind; therefore, someone has to tell you something is here, something is there. Your eyes have not been opened. Sankhya is not here.

Now, what is sankhya? Without going into the metaphysical details of the classical Sankhya system, which is not essential for the present, we see what meaning we can have from the verse of the Bhagavadgita itself. The word 'prakriti' is used in the Bhagavadgita, which is one of the terms that occurs in the Sankhya system. The whole world is made up of prakriti. This prakriti is the substance of the whole world. By 'the world' we do not mean only this little Earth. The entire cosmos, the universe, is an expression of prakriti. This prakriti is constituted of certain forces, and these forces are called sattva, rajas, tamas. Tamas is the inert condition of this force, rajas is the active condition of this force, and sattva is the harmonised condition of this force. In these three conditions the world can exist, and does exist.

Now, inasmuch as everything in the world is made up of these forces only, as a rope which is made up of three strands is identical with the strands, and the strands constitute the rope, similarly, the forces mentioned constitute every person and every thing in the world. Everything is just these forces. There are no persons, no things in the world. Everything is just a permutation and combination of these three forces, sattva, rajas, tamas. In some proportion these are mixed. The proportion in which these gunas, or properties of prakriti, are mixed, and the intensity in which they are manifest, will decide the kind of thing that anything is. It may be a body of a living being, or it may be an inanimate substance.

Now, the impulsions within a human being, mental as well as sensory, are also to be attributed to the activity of these gunas. It is not merely the physical body that is a product of these gunas. Gunas mean the properties of prakriti: sattva, rajas, tamas. They are called gunas in Sanskrit. It is not merely the physical body that is made up of the gunas, but even the inner constituents of the human personality, what is called the subtle body, are also products of the gunas. Now, our contact with things, our longing for things and our relationship with things, in any manner whatsoever, is a wondrous dramatic activity of these gunas among themselves. This is a very interesting thing to contemplate.

What is meant by 'relationship'? All life is a kind of relationship of some type or the other. You cannot conceive life without relationship contact. Sensory contact and psychological contact are the principal contacts. Now, these contacts constitute what is called your earthly mortal existence, but these contacts with relationships are a play of the gunas. How do they play? There is a mysterious manner in which the forces of prakriti operate. These forces can become anything and everything.

A juggler's tricks are sometimes brought out as illustrations of the way in which the forces of nature can work. One thing can appear as many things. There are jugglers in India who perform tricks of various types. Some of the tricks are difficult to understand. You will be flabbergasted even to see them. There is one kind of trick called the rope trick, which is not easily performed these days. A magician stands there alone; there is nobody else. He says, “Now a war is taking place in the heavens. I am called there to assist the gods. I am a soldier. I will go there. How will I go? I will go with this rope.” He throws the rope up to the sky. You cannot understand how a rope is thrown like that. He climbs the rope. He goes up, and he tells people around, “Now you see heads falling, and bloodshed. All this indicates a war is taking place.” And after some time, you see heads falling down. You will be wondering what is the matter. From the skies, heads fall. There is blood dropping from all places. War is taking place. And then the man is suddenly found in the same place where he had been standing. There is neither the rope nor the blood nor the heads. These are interesting things. He has become the rope, he has become the heads, he has become the blood, he has become the warrior, and he is the person who is talking to you.

In a similar manner, a magical performance is projected before us, as it were. The miracle of this magic is very dramatically portrayed before us in certain great texts like the Yoga Vasishtha, and also in smaller texts such as the Tripura Rahasya. They are interesting things. You must read the Yoga Vasishtha to know what these mysteries are which make us believe that there is a world outside.

Actually, what we call the world is nothing but an outsideness in the mind. If the outsideness has vanished and is not there, then there is no world. Imagine a condition where externality is lifted up. Let the mountains be there, let the trees be there, let the sun be there, let the moon be there, let the river be there, but externality is not there. The world ceases to be, in one second. The world is nothing but externality. It is not a substance. Inasmuch as externality is necessary for experience of the world, and externality itself is not a substance, the world is considered as unsubstantial. It does not exist as a substance. This is one side of the matter.

The other side is that the forces of prakriti – the gunas sattva, rajas, tamas – in a dramatic manner become the subject as well as the object, as the magician became the performer as well as the rope on which he was climbing. Or, to give another example, in a dream you are pursued by a tiger, so you run and climb a tree. This tiger is nothing but your mind, and the space between, the distance between the tiger and the tree is your mind, the process of running is your mind, the tree is your mind, the climbing is your mind, and you have become an individual involved in this process by the activity of your mind. Such a drama can be performed by your mind by creating a spatial and temporal distance, bifurcating the seer and the seen, the actor and the acted, the tiger and the man, and so on. Likewise, the forces sattva, rajas, and tamas act as a subjective propulsion of sensory action, and also an objective location of things which the senses attract.

Thus, the attraction of the sense organs and the mind in respect of objects outside is nothing but the forces attracting forces, the gunas moving among gunas: guṇā guṇeṣu vartanta iti matvā na sajjate (BG 3.28). Knowing that there is no such thing as your wanting an object, no such thing as the senses coming in contact with things, but only the same force subjectively colliding with the same force objectively, as it were – knowing that even this so-called colliding or coming in contact of the subjective side with the objective side is made possible by another drama of there being a space and time in between – knowing this, the wise one is not attached to anything in this world.

You say “I shall do”, “I shall not do”. These kinds of statements have no meaning, because you are not there as an isolated person to make statements of this kind. Prakriti is the doer of all things. Prakṛtis tvāṁ niyokṣyati (BG 18.59): Knowing that the whole world is a manipulation of the forces of prakriti, neither does one get attached to anything, nor does one make any statement of a positive or negative nature; neither does one love anything, nor does one hate anything. The question does not arise because there is no question of even one's own independent existence in this world as a doer of action. You are not an independent doer of actions. Here is the crux of the philosophy of the Bhagavadgita. You are not an independent doer. The agency or independent doership that you attribute to yourself is a fallacy. It is not possible because of the fact of your involvement in the total setup of the forces of prakriti. The universe is doing something, and you are not independently doing anything.

So we enter into the Third Chapter of the Bhagavadgita, which is a beautiful presentation before us of our duty in this world. Some of the chapters are to be read especially with intensive concentration. For instance, the Third Chapter which explains the whole philosophy of action, the Thirteenth Chapter which concentrates more on the analytical, philosophical side of things, the Ninth, Tenth and Eleventh Chapters which describe the glory of the Almighty and the magnificence of the Creative Principle, and Chapters Five and Six which hinge upon concentration and self-integration process, all these are to be especially studied. The First and Second Chapters act as a kind of introduction to the whole theme, and the actual working of the entire structure of the teaching of the Gita is now to be commenced from the Third Chapter.