Commentary on the Kathopanishad

by Swami Krishnananda

Discourse 5: The Secret of Om and The Nature of the Atman

Sarve vedā yat padam āmananti, tapāṁsi sarvaṇi ca yad vadanti, yad icchanto brahmacaryaṁ caranti, tat te padaṁ saṁgraheṇa bravīmi: aum ity etat (1.2.15): “I shall tell you the great secret about which the Vedas go into ecstasies, and to attain which people perform tapas and self-restraint. What is that great truth and secret? It is Om. I shall tell you that, having obtained which, one obtains everything.”

Om is the principal mantra which is attached to every other mantra, and it is a sound vibration which produces a sympathetic effect in the system of the person who recites it properly. We should not chant Om in a hurry—Om Om Om Om Om Om. That is not the way. Sometimes when people do purascharana of Om for some 3.5 lakhs or crores, and they want to finish it as early as possible, the quality gets absorbed into quantity. We should not do that. Nor also should it be lengthened too much. It should be moderate, medium, capable of getting properly accommodated into the mind and the physical system. When we do purascharana, japa, recitation of Om, neither should it be too short, nor too quick, nor too elongated.

Aaaaauuuuummmmm. It should taper off gradually into a soundless ethereal state. In the beginning it is a gross sound, as it were, that gradually becomes more and more subtle, ethereal, until it melts into a soundless pure vibration, without the grossness of the sound produced. Aaaaauuuuummmmm, Aaaaauuuuummmmm, Aaaaauuuuummmmm, Aaaaauuuuummmmm. This is the vaikhari, or the gross form of sound. It becomes gross, known as vaikhari, when it is audible; and when it is inaudible, it is only mentally chanted.

There are four stages of sound: para, pashyanti, madhyama and vaikhari. Sound has a vibration which starts with the naval, and when we chant Om, we should feel a sense of vibration in the naval itself. It should start from the very root of our plexus, corresponding to the naval. It rises up gradually. Para is inaudible, pure vibration, having no characteristic of sound. It is a pressure that we are exerting, and it comes from a source which is beyond the constitution of the physical body. We summon into ourselves, as it were, the forces of nature, all things and everything. “The power of the mountains, the power of the ocean, the power of all the rivers, the power of all the trees in the forest, the power of the sun and the moon and the stars, and the power of the sky, I withdraw into myself.” Feel like that when you recite Om. And, as the saying goes, what you think you are, that you really are.

This is a meditation by which we keep ourselves open to the influx of the forces of nature. The whole universe is vibration. It is a large quantum of force, energy and motion, of which we are a little part, a modicum, a little eddy or a wave in the sea of force. Therefore, let this eddy on the surface of the ocean feel its harmony with the vast sea of force. Let the ego subside. Open up the gates, the doors and the windows of the sense organs. Let in the influx of this force that is universal.

But the sense organs will not permit the entry of the universal force as long as the ego is conditioning it. The ego is the affirmation of individual personality, and universal force is the contrary of it. Nothing that is universal will contact that which is particular, or egocentric. We are mostly egocentric persons, very much conscious of our body and mind and personality, and never feeling a unity with the atmosphere outside, not even being truly friendly with people. Such is our ego. But that has to be shed. This trait has to be given up. And in the meditation, in the chanting, in the recitation of Om, it has to become not merely a recitation or a chant but a veritable meditation, a communion process taking place between the deepest essences in us with the deepest essences in the universe.

Para is the soundless origin of the sound process. As I mentioned, it is just pressure, a pressure point. It cannot be called sound in a tangible, audible, intelligible sense. It manifests itself into a slightly gross, articulated form in a very minute, subtle way in the next stage, called pashyanti. It becomes more comprehensible in the sense of getting into an integrality of knowledge when it becomes the third stage, madhyama; and it actually becomes audible when it is vaikhari. The words that we speak which are listened to, which are audible, which we can hear, these sounds are vaikhari. So when we chant Om it starts with vaikhari, the actual production of an audible sound. From there, it gradually tapers off into the thinness and vaporised ethereal condition of the sound melting into the soundless state. The Manduka Upanishad tells us that the three matras—A-U-M—constituting Aum, or Om, become amatra, or non-constituents of the word symbol, the amatra, the fourth state, being practically identical with the universality of the Atman. This is how we have to place ourselves in the context of the universal setup when we recite Om.

Then what happens to us? We become friendly with all things in the world, and all things become friendly with us. Animosity ceases. We do not become only friends; it is much more than that. We commune one into the other so that when proper meditation, by the process of chanting Om, is carefully conducted every day without remission of effort, we shall gradually feel ourselves as super-individuals, a miniature cosmos within ourselves.

The Upanishad tells us of the greatness of this Om. Etadd hy evākṣaram brahma, etadd hy evākṣaram param, etadd hy evākṣaram jñātvā, yo yad icchati tasya tat (1.2.16). Etadd hy evākṣaram brahma: Verily this is Brahman itself because outside this final centre of immortality there is nothing. Therefore, it is Absolute, Parabrahman. Etadd hy evākṣaram param: Supreme is the state. External to it, beyond it, nothing is. Etadd hy evākṣaram jñātvā, yo yad icchati tasya tat: Whoever knows this, whatever that person wants is on the palm of his hand. You will have what you want, you will achieve what you want, and it will be on the palm of your hand. Let this ego vanish. Try to be no more a human being. Cease to be a human being, cease to be this body, cease to be this personality, cease to be this individuality, cease to be Mr. or Mrs. so-and-so. Cease to be anything visible, tangible, sensible, contactable. Then you actually melt into the very bricks of the wall that is in front of you.

Etad ālambanaṁ śreṣṭham etad ālambanam param, etad ālambanaṁ jñātvā brahma-loke mahīyate (1.2.17). Etad ālambanaṁ śreṣṭham: Very good indeed is this dependence of a person on Om. It is the best support for you. Etad ālambanam param: This support is supreme, without any parallel or equal. Etad ālambanaṁ jñātvā brahma-loke mahīyate: Having known and realised this support, one glories in Brahmaloka at the end of time when the body is gone. In Brahmaloka everyone is like everyone else. They are not human beings; they are souls centred, reflecting one in the other as mirrors reflect one in the other. Everywhere everything is. Every person is like every other person, everything is everywhere, and everywhere everything is found. That is Brahmaloka. Would you like to go there as early as possible? Brahma-loke mahīyate: You shall glory in this grand Brahmaloka of universal inclusiveness.

This great soul essentially does not die, and basically it also does not get born. As the soul gets conditioned into egoism, personality, mind, prana and the physical sheath, it appears to be born on account of its apparent limitation within the walls of this physical and psychological personality. As space may appear to be limited when it is seen as being contained in a little vessel or bucket, we may say that space is born the moment the bucket is born and space dies when the bucket is destroyed. Really, the space is not being born, and it is not dying. It is only the bucket walls that create the impression of space being born, space dying, etc. In a similar manner, the impression that the soul is born or the soul dies is an impression created by the false identification of the otherwise all-pervading soul with this little wall of the psychophysical personality.

Na jāyate mriyate vā vipaścin nāyaṁ kutaścin na babhūva kaścit: ajo nityaḥ śaśvato'yam purāṇo na hanyate hanyamāne śarīre (1.2.18). Na jāyate: The soul does not really get born. It is not born. It is birthless. Mriyate vā vipaścin: This all-knowing soul never dies. Nāyaṁ kutaścin: It does not come from somewhere, because it is everywhere. Na babhūva kaścit: It does not become something else when it appears to be born. Ajo nityaḥ: It is eternal, unborn. Śaśvato'yam: Perpetual is this ancient reality. Purāṇo na hanyate hanyamāne śarīre: Even when the body perishes, it does not perish.

This is similar to a verse from the Bhagavadgita. Na jāyate mriyate vā kadācin nāyaḿ bhūtvā bhavitā vā na bhūyaḥ, ajo nityaḥ śāśvato'yaṁ purāṇo na hanyate hanyamāne śarīre (B.G. 2.20): If person imagines himself to be a destroyer, if he thinks that he is really a destroyer, and if a person who is apparently destroyed or killed feels that he is struck with death and destruction, neither of these know the truth properly. The impulsion, the Consciousness that is necessary for creative activity of any kind—creating or killing, or whatever it is—that Consciousness which is essential, without which the body will be deadened and no activity would be possible, that Consciousness which is finally responsible for good deeds and bad deeds, even the worst of deeds, that Consciousness is not involved in the goodness or the badness of the deeds. The killer does not kill, and the killed is not killed, because of the fact that the thing that is really responsible for making such actions possible cannot be killed, and is not killed, because it is Pure Consciousness. The sun in the sky, without whom we cannot do anything, good or bad, is not responsible for any good or bad in this world. Neither the virtues nor the evils of the world can manifest themselves if the sun is not to be there in the sky, yet the virtues and the evils of the world are not connected with the sun in any manner whatsoever. So is the case with the Atman that is responsible for anything that we are to do. The good action of charity or the worst action of killing, nothing is possible unless Consciousness is backing us up as an ocean of force behind us, but it does not get involved in this action of ours. Even as space is not involved in what is contained in the vessel and the sun is not involved in what is happening in the world, so also the universal Atman that is Consciousness is not involved in any action. Neither the killer nor the killed, appearing to be identified with this action and experience, knows the truth.

Hantā cen manyate hantuṁ hataś cen manyate hatam, ubhau tau na vijānīto nāyaṁ hanti na hanyate (1.2.19): This Atman is not destroyed. It cannot be killed, and it does not kill anybody. There is a magnificent description of it in the Bhagavadgita.

Aṇor aṇīyān mahato mahīyān, ātmāsya jantor nihito guhāyām: tam akratuḥ paśyati vīta-śoko dhātu-prasādān mahimānam ātmanaḥ (1.2.20). Aṇor aṇīyān mahato mahīyān: Smaller than the smallest and bigger than the biggest is this. Yogis become small and big according to their will. When Hanuman went to Lanka, to the abode of Ravana, he became small like a cat or a mosquito, and he perched upon the walls to observe everything that was taking place in the palace of Ravana. But he could also assume such a form which covered up the earth and the sky at the same time, which form he assumed when he jumped across the ocean, and which form he showed to Sita when she could not believe that this little monkey was in a position to carry her back to Rama.

Hanuman said to Sita, “If you want the trouble to cease just now, I shall see that it ceases just now. Sit on my back, and I shall take you to Rama. Then the problem is solved in one day.”

Sita replied, “After all, monkeys are monkeys only.”

When Hanuman had changed his size to the size of a human being, and he was equal to Sita, he said, “Sit on my back.”

Sita said, “I am a human being. I am heavier than you, and you want to carry me on your back? What kind of person are you? This is monkey-like talk.”

Immediately Hanuman thought, “This mother does not know who I am. Let her see my real form.” He assumed a shape which was not easy for Sita to even behold. He was towering to the skies.

Sita said, “I understand your greatness, but I cannot come with you for various reasons. Let Rama come and get me.”

Smaller than the smallest and bigger than the biggest is this Atman. Deeper than the deepest, in the recesses of your heart is this Atman. Wider than space is this Atman. Because it is you yourself, it is the subtlest, and deepest, and is incomprehensible. Because it is more than space, overstruck by the limits of space itself, it is the remotest, and very big. Very small and very big is this Atman.

Ātmāsya jantor nihito guhāyām: This Atman of the jivas, this Atman of me and of you and of everybody, very small it appears to be, but the biggest it is. It is in the deepest of our own self.

Tam akratuḥ paśyati vīta-śokaḥ: Only those people who are akratuh can behold this Atman. Akratuh is a peculiar word that is used in this Upanishad. This word is also used in the Brahma Sutra. Meanings attached to this word are several. One of the meanings of akratuh is 'actionless, motionless and volitionless'. There is a verse in the Sixth Chapter of the Bhagavadgita which is similar to the significance of this word. Na hyasannyastasaṅkalpo yogī bhavati kaścana (B.G. 6.2): No one can become a yogi unless he is free from creative willing, creative volition, creative determination and decision. If we are able to live a life where it is not necessary for us to create anything in our mind—neither the will to decide, nor to determine, nor to want anything at all—that is the state of sannyasa sankalpa, and that is the state of akratuh, free from any kind of creative will. Akratuḥ paśyati vīta-śokaḥ: Free from all griefs characteristic of the world, this person who is free from every kind of undertaking, willing and feeling realises this Atman.

How does one realise this Atman? Dhātu-prasādān mahimānam ātmanaḥ. Here is a word which has been interpreted in different ways by the acharyas. Dhātu-prasādā: one who realises the Atman through dhātu-prasāda. Now, what is dhātu-prasāda? Those who insist on a pure, universalised form of interpretation of the Atman, like Acharya Sankara, say dhātu-prasāda means the prasāda of dhātu. Dhātu are the humours of the body, the constituents of the mind, the structure of the personality. This is dhātu. Its cessation, its harmony, its alignment, its uniformity of action, calmness of the entire personality, is considered as dhātu-prasāda. The stability, harmony, equilibrium, alignment, calmness, etc., of the very constituents of our personality is the cause for the perception of the Atman. When we are calm and quiet, and our personality ceases completely, we behold the Atman from inside. This is what Acharya Sankara says.

But devotees such as Ramanuja, Madhva and others say this is not dhātu-prasāda. Dhātu means 'of dātta'. Tāsya dhātu, as we would say. Prasāda is 'grace'. By the grace of the Supreme Creator alone can we behold the Atman. This is what devotees say. Dhātu-prasādān mahimānam ātmanaḥ. The Vaishnava devotees say that one cannot behold the ultimate Truth except by the grace of God. Individual effort is not sufficient here. They follow the doctrine of the bhaktas. The Vaishnavas, particularly the devotees, follow the doctrine of the cat which takes care of its kitten. It is called the kitten doctrine, marjara-nyaya. The kitten has no responsibility. It does not put forth any effort; it simply surrenders itself to its mother. It is the responsibility of its mother to take it from place to place and do whatever is necessary. God is responsible for everything in regard to us, but we must surrender ourselves to God. This is the factor of grace operating in the personality of the human being in spiritual living. That is one interpretation. The other interpretation I mentioned is the stability and the calmness of personality, causing the revelation of the Atman automatically from inside. This is the meaning of this very interesting mantra: aṇor aṇīyān mahato mahīyān, ātmāsya jantor nihito guhāyām: tam akratuḥ paśyati vīta-śoko dhātu-prasādān mahimānam ātmanaḥ.

Āsīno dūraṁ vrajati, śayāno yāti sarvataḥ: kastam madāmadaṁ devam mad anyo jñātum arharti (1.2.21). Āsīno dūraṁ vrajati: Sitting in one place, it moves everywhere. A thing that is sitting in one place cannot move, as we know very well, but here is a thing which is sitting in one place only, and yet it is everywhere—śayāno yāti sarvataḥ. It is lying down, calmly resting, as it were, but it travels to all places. Who can know this secret? Yama says, “Except for people like me who have the blessing of this realisation, who can know this great truth of that Being which can move about without actually moving, and travel without actually travelling?” Faster than the fastest, nearer than the nearest, remoter than the remotest, greater than the greatest, smaller than the smallest, most wonderful is this Atman. There is neither joy nor sorrow in that Atman. Madāmada is the word used here. It is the state where there is no joy and no sorrow. Who can know it? Only a great Master like Yama can know it, and perhaps Nachiketas may know it.

Aśarīraṁ śarīreṣu, anavastheṣv avasthitam, mahāntaṁ vibhum ātmānam matvā dhīro na śocati (1.2.22): It is the bodiless among the bodies. Among all the bodies that we see, it is bodiless, existing through the body, inside the body. Anavastheṣv avasthitam: Stable among all unstable things in the world; mahāntaṁ vibhum ātmānam: the great universal all-pervading Being; matvā dhīro na śocati: knowing it, great heroes do not grieve.

Nāyam ātmā pravacanena labhyo na medhayā, na bahunā śrutena: yamevaiṣa vṛṇute, tena labhyas tasyaiṣa ātmā vivṛṇute tanūṁ svām (1.2.23). Nāyam ātmā pravacanena labhyaḥ: Disquisition, argumentation, verbosity and academic investigation cannot enable us to know this Atman. Na medhayā: By intellectuality this Atman cannot be known. Na bahunā śrutena: By immense learning we cannot know this.

How will we know it? Another intricate passage comes here, which is interpreted in two ways by the universalists and the dualists. How do we know this, then? Yamevaiṣa vṛṇute, tena labhyaḥ. The devotees, the Vaishnavas, say only that person who is chosen by the Ultimate Being can attain to that glorious state. God has to choose us as a fit person to know Him, and we have to wait until He chooses us. So our destiny is in His hands, not entirely in our hands. People say that man is the master of his own destiny. The Vaishnava devotees do not believe this. God is the master of the destiny of everybody; we are not the masters. We are helpless people, and therefore only he knows the Ultimate Reality, the Atman, whom the Atman chooses. Whom the Atman chooses, only that person will know the Atman. This is the devotee's interpretation of this verse: yamevaiṣa vṛṇute, tena labhyaḥ.

But Acharya Sankara has another interpretation. He does not bring in the factor of division between God and devotee. He wants to unite them both. So his interpretation is that it is known by the seeker who seeks it as non-different from his own self, it is known by the knower only, it is sought by the one who seeks, and it is the attainment of That which itself is the seeker of That. Here the path and the goal are identical. The path which leads to the goal is itself the goal. If the path is totally different from the goal, it cannot lead to the goal. A cannot be B; this is the law of contradiction in logic. If the path is different from the goal—if A is different from B—it shall always be different. So, Acharya Sankara says that the one who seeks That is itself That, and finally it is That which seeks itself. This interpretation is read into this passage: yamevaiṣa vṛṇute, tena labhyaḥ. Tasyaiṣa ātmā vivṛṇute tanūṁ svām: In the case of that blessed one, the Atman reveals itself.

Nāvirato duścaritān nāśānto nāsamāhitaḥ, nāśānta-mānaso vāpi prajñānenainam āpnuyāt (1.2.24): Nobody can attain that Atman who is not free from evil conduct. No one can know the Atman, or reach it, who is not calm and composed in mind, and who is distracted inside. No one can know the Atman whose mind is not concentrated on it. Distracted and torn emotions will not be good media for contacting the Atman. Here intellect is not of any utility. Nāśānto nāsamāhitaḥ, nāśānta-mānaso vāpi prajñānenainam āpnuyāt: Unsettled minds, merely with the power of will and intellect, will not be able to know it, contact it, or realise it.

Yasya brahma ca kṣatraṁ ca ubhe bhavata odanaḥ, mṛtyur yasyopasecanaṁ ka itthā veda yatra saḥ (1.2.25): Brahmanas and Kshatriyas are the diet of this Great Being. This Great Being eats Brahmanas and Kshatriyas every day. What does this mean? It is symbolic of knowledge and power. The highest knowledge and the highest power are embedded in this great Atman. That is the meaning of saying that it eats knowledge and power embedded in what we call Brahmana and Kshatriya. Brahmanas are supposed to be the repositories of knowledge and wisdom; Kshatriyas are supposed to be the repositories of power and strength. Both these are swallowed by this Great Being, because it is above all knowledge and power. Yasya brahma ca kṣatraṁ ca ubhe bhavata odanaḥ: It is a good meal. Brahmanas and Kshatriyas are its daily breakfast and lunch. Mṛtyur yasyopasecanaṁ: But it cannot digest this easily, so it wants some achar, some condiment. Death is the condiment. When we take a meal we have a little condiment, achar as it is called in Hindi. We eat the meal, whatever it is, chapati, paratha, with a little condiment. And this Great Being takes death itself as the condiment. What a great power! It is staggering, really staggering. It will make us giddy. We are unable to think it, so great and grand it is. Ka itthā veda yatra saḥ: Who can know it? Yama himself is saying, “Who can know it?” Who can know where it is? Great indeed it is! May it bless us.