Commentary on the Kathopanishad

by Swami Krishnananda

Discourse 12: The Mortal Becomes Immortal

We are now concluding the Kathopanishad. A few more mantras are there, with which we shall bid goodbye to the Kathopanishad.

Yadā pañcāvatiṣṭhante jñānāni manasā saha, buddhiś ca na viceṣṭati, tām āhuḥ paramāṃ gatim (2.3.10). This is a verse dealing with yoga practice. When the five senses stand together by blending their functions into a single activity, as it were, and root themselves in the mind, enhancing the strength of the mind thereby, and the mind settles itself in the pure reason, that state of equilibrium of awareness is the supreme state that one can achieve. Yadā pañcāvatiṣṭhante: When the five senses settle themselves together with the mind, manasā saha; buddhiś ca na viceṣṭati: and the intellect does not oscillate; tām āhuḥ paramāṃ gatim: that is the greatest achievement of a person.

The energy of the mind flows through the sense organs. We have been told again and again that we waste our strength, our energy, our potential, in sense perception. Whenever we see a thing, hear a thing or enjoy any object of sense, a proportion, a part, some measure of the energy of the mind goes outwardly in the direction of that object. The more we enjoy objects, the weaker will we become in our mind, and perhaps in our body also. Mental weakness, inability to remember things, forgetfulness, distraction, all these are characteristics of a weak mind that has exhausted itself by depleting all its energy through the sense organs.

There are five apertures. These apertures are the senses. We are constantly engaged in feeding them with sense objects. Every moment of time we see and hear, touch, taste and smell. These are not innocuous activities taking place; they are vital functions which sap our energy. The more we indulge in things, the weaker we become psychophysically. The Yoga System, which is briefly mentioned here in this verse, tells us that the senses should not work independently—the eyes go on seeing something, and the ears go on hearing something, etc. The energy that is responsible for the function of these five senses should withdraw itself from communicating itself through these organs.

For instance, if we open our eyes and are apparently gazing at some object in front of us, our mind may be somewhere else. When the mind is deeply thinking of something, we will not be able to see an object in front of us even if our eyes are open. This is a way in which the mental energy is withdrawn from the perceptive organ. Similarly, when we are deeply concentrating on something, we will not hear the honking of vehicles on the road. We may not even hear a gunshot taking place near us because we are deeply concentrating on a mathematical solution or a philosophical problem or some case that we have got to handle, and so on. A person who is grieved by the thought of bereavement will not taste any food. If we give the most delicious food to a person who is grieving on account of the loss of something very dear and near—it may be the entire property or some dear person—there will be no taste in the tongue. That person will not have any peace of mind. So there are occasions even in our daily life when the mind can withdraw itself into non-perception through the sense organs. I mentioned some examples. We will not see, we will not hear, we will not taste, we will not enjoy anything. The whole world will look drab and dreary and meaningless to a person who has lost all property and everything that is near and dear.

But yoga is not the manner of concentration of the mind by bereavement, etc. It is a deliberate withdrawal, consciously attempted, due to the fact that there is really no joy in any object. Objects are mischievous sidetrackers. Philosophical analysis will tell us that there is a mistake we are committing every day in imagining that our joys are embedded in the objects of sense. Thus, by the practice of philosophical analysis and by the power of reason, convincing oneself that there is no great point in the senses being indulged so much, we withdraw the energy of the senses.

What happens then? The mind becomes very strong. Those who cannot see and hear have very powerful minds, generally speaking. They think better. When the mind is so concentrated by the energy embedded in it by the withdrawal of the sense organs, it settles itself in the higher reason which contemplates the Supreme Reality, and the intellect does not oscillate. The oscillation of the intellect is due to the logical process which it carries on, on account of reports received through the mind from the sense organs.

So there is a three-tier arrangement of sense indulgence and erroneous concepts. First of all, the senses give us a wrong report about the nature of the objects of the world. Secondly, the mind acquiesces in this report. Then the intellect passes an order agreeing to whatever the mind says. Now this verse says that such a thing should not take place. The intellect will not oscillate if the mind is settled, and the mind will be settled if the senses do not drag it in the direction of objects. If this state can be achieved, it is to be considered as the most blessed state, parama gati.

Tām yogam iti manyante sthirām indriya-dhāraṇām, apramattas tadā bhavati, yogo hi prabhavāpyayau (2.3.11). Tām yogam iti manyante: Yoga is that state of consciousness which is the restraint of the senses, with a deliberate will and intense cautiousness that the mind does not once again go in the direction of the senses. Apramattas tadā bhavati: We should be very careful in yoga. Heedlessness is death. This is what the great Sanatkumara told Dhritarashtra in a discourse that occurs in the Udyoga Parva of the Mahabharata.

Dhritarashtra was very much disturbed. He had no sleep. So he called Vidura and said, “Tell me something because I am not sleeping.”

Vidura gave a long lecture on righteousness, justice and virtue. He said, “Actually, nothing happens in this world. Death itself is a misnomer.”

“Please tell me something about it,” said Dhritarashtra.

“I am not fit to talk on this subject. It is beyond me,” replied Vidura. “I shall call Sanatkumara, the great son of Brahma, who shall instruct you on what is this that is called death.”

Vidura thought of Sanatkumara, and Sanatkumara descended. There was a discourse between Sanatkumara and Dhritarashtra, which goes by the name of Sanatsujatiya, a great philosophical section in the Mahabharata. What did Sanatkumara say? Death is nothing but heedlessness, carelessness, lethargy, and an inability to concentrate on what is good for us. First of all, there is a difficulty in choosing what is good. After having chosen it, there is a difficulty of fixing the mind on it.

Apramattas tadā bhavati. yogo hi prabhavāpyayau: Yoga cannot be always there. We should not be under the impression that day in and day out we will be in the state of yoga. It comes and it goes. Even the greatest of yogis cannot maintain this balance for years and years continuously, day in and day out. Not even the best of yogis can maintain it, what to speak of others.

Tām yogam iti manyante sthirām indriya-dhāraṇām: Again and again there is an emphasis on the restraint of the sense organs, the restraint of the energy that is flowing through the senses and establishing it in the mind and the intellect. In this practice of sense restraint, and mental control, and the stability of the intellect, or the reason, we must be very cautious because the winds of desire will blow so violently that all the fixity of our reason and our mind, though strong like a tree planted on the earth, will be broken and turned down. Even the strongest tree can be felled by a violent wind. Desires are such tornadoes. Therefore, the Upanishad says apramattas tadā bhavati: Be full of heed, carefulness and vigilance.

Sri Ramakrishna Parmamahamsa Deva has an analogy for how we have to be concentrating and be always heedful. Suppose we are on a journey somewhere and are caught at night by a heavy rainfall, and we have no place to stay. We run here and there in search of a little hut where we can rest. On the way, in the pitch dark, we find a little thatched hut almost about to break, but because of the heavy rain we somehow or other get in, and we are shivering. When we feel like reclining a little bit, in the twilight, in a flash of the light from the lightning, we see a small snake crawling out from a hole. It is showing its head. When we look behind, there is another snake behind us. When we look to the right, we see a scorpion coming towards us, and another scorpion on the other side. Will we sleep because we are tired? Will we be cautious? Will we be vigilant? Will we be able to concentrate our mind on the predicament in which we are? Such is the way in which we have to concentrate. Death is at the elbow, as it is well said. Anybody can go any day, and therefore nobody knows what will happen to anyone at any moment of time. We should not say “Tomorrow I will do yoga”; we should do it today. Tomorrow may not come at all; who knows?

Thus, apramattas tadā bhavati: Yoga comes and goes. It never stays with any person. It is a very precarious achievement. Therefore, be cautious, cautious, cautious.

Naiva vācā na manasā prāptuṁ śakyo na cakṣuṣā, astīti bruvato'nyatra kathaṁ tad upalabhyate (2.3.12). Neither by speech nor by mind nor by perception through the eyes can this be known. Any amount of listening will not suffice. Any amount of mere thinking will not suffice. And touring, looking at all things the whole world over, will also not be adequate. We will not see God anywhere by any amount of thinking. We can travel from one corner of the earth to another corner of the earth, but we will not see God. From the Himalayas to Kanyakumari we can travel, and we will not see God anywhere. Then where is God? We go on thinking, but nothing comes out of it. And we go on listening; then also, nothing comes out of it. What do we do now? Astīti bruvato'nyatra kathaṁ tad upalabhyate: It is to be accepted as Pure Existence. Astīti: That which Is, is God. It is not in the Himalayas, it is not in Kanyakumari; it is That which Is.

In the Panchadasi there is a chapter on this is-ness, or the existence of things. Generally we say a building exists, a chair exists, a table exists. We convert the term 'exists' as a predicate or a verb to be tagged on to the subject, which is the building, which is the chair, which is the table or anything, under the wrong impression that existence is an attribute of the chair or the table or the building or whatever it is, the fact being quite the reverse. Existence is first. The form of the building or the chair or the table, or anything, is secondary. There cannot be a chair unless existence is there prior to it. So why do we consider existence as a predicate? Why should we use 'existence' as a verb that follows a noun? The noun is non-existent practically, minus that verb which indicates the prior existence of the reality behind even the noun. So it is existence first, and chairhood afterwards. But we always say that the chair exists, as if existence is the quality of the chair. It is the other way around; the chair is the quality of existence. The chairhood, the buildinghood, etc., are qualifications, name-and-form complexes growing externally on existence as an accretion. Existence is Truth. So you exist, I exist, this exists, that exists. There is a general existence of everything. If we can boil down all the forms and names, the shapes and contours, the differentiations and relations—all these diversifications which are the creations of the perceptions of the sense organs—boil them down to the basic substratum or the menstruum of pure Existence, we will find there is one uniform continuum of the existence of everything, without any distinction of one thing from the other thing.

How do we conceive God? As pure Existence only. There is no other way. By our senses, by our seeing, by our hearing, by our speaking, by our thinking aloud and logically arguing, nothing will come out, because existence is not an object of any of these activities of the faculties. It is beyond them. Existence is prior to every activity of the human faculty. Therefore, no one can know this by the attempts of the available faculties such as speech, mind, eyes, etc.

Astīti bruvato'nyatra kathaṁ tad upalabhyate: How can we know it except as that which just is, pure Being, pure Be-ness? 'Being' is also an inadequate word because it suggests some continuity of process. It is be-ness, as people sometimes say. I just be. So many words have been used by philosophers to come nearest to the definition of this Truth, and words fail always. That which Is: astīti bruvato'nyatra kathaṁ tad upalabhyate.

Astīty evopalabdhavyas tattva-bhāvena cobhayoḥ, astīty evopalabdhavyas tattva-bhāvaḥ prasīdati (2.3.13): Know it, comprehend it, and realise it as pure Existence, Sat. Satta-samanya is the word used in the Yoga Vasishtha. The general existence of all things is Reality. The particular existences of things are created by name and form. Thus, general existence, which is satta-samanya, the universally pervading Existence, is the Ultimate Being. In that way only can we contemplate it and know it.

Lord Krishna speaks in the Bhagavadgita: “Know Me in truth. Whoever knows Me as I am, that person knows Me really. But do not call me the son of Vasudeva, etc. I am something different. There is a pure Beingness in Me which is pervading all existence, and in that way know Me.” Tattva-bhāvena: As the pure fundamental Reality of all names and forms, as Existence pure and simple, satta-samanya, know That.

Astīty evopalabdhavyas tattva-bhāvaḥ prasīdati. There are two concepts: existence and non-existence, being and non-being. Between these two it is up to us to choose the being, and not the non-being. There are some people who say that nothing exists, that there is zero, there is a vacuum, there is nihil, there is shunyata, that all things go. This is not a proper way of conceiving or contemplating Reality, because existence cannot become non-existence. How can sat become asat? Even if we feel that there is such a thing called non-existence, that feeling has to exist. The feeling that something does not exist has to exist. As non-existence is also ubiquitous, the person who affirms non-existence is not actually affirming the non-existence of some particular thing. It is the negation of all things. Therefore, the negation of all things is also an all-pervading concept. This all-pervading concept has to exist in order that this statement may be true; therefore, there is an ubiquitous existence behind even the denial of all things. And therefore, do not choose non-existence. Choose only existence. Between the two concepts or possible definitions—existence and non-existence—choose only existence, because it is only through this concept of Being that you can comprehend it for the purpose of meditation on Reality. Then it shall reveal itself before you as it is in itself.

Yadā sarve pramucyante kāmā ye'sya hṛdi śritāḥ, atha martyo'mṛto bhavaty atra brahma samaśnute (2.3.14): When all your desires are gone, you realise Brahman at once. How many days will you take to realise Brahman? So many days as you will take for eliminating all your desires. You have to make a list of all the desires that you have got, even if they are a hundred. Every day eliminate one of them—one, two, three, four. Finally, one or two or three or four may be remaining. They have to be handled like arch enemies, with proper equipment of confrontation, with great effort, perseverance, and love of God. When all the desires are plucked out from the heart, the mortal becomes immortal instantaneously. Waking up into God-consciousness does not take days and nights or months and years. It is an instantaneous illumination that takes place, as waking takes place when sleep ceases. Though the sleep may have been a very long darkness, the waking up is an instantaneous occurrence, and it is timeless. Waking does not take time at all.

Atra brahma samaśnute: Where do you realise Brahman? Do you go from here to a distant place? Atra: Here itself you realise Brahman, in this very place, at this very spot where you are sitting. In this very hall you realise Brahman, because it is not any distant place. The consciousness of the elimination of all desires connected with this body and relations with the world has to be the precondition for your acceptance of God as the only reality.

Yadā sarve prabhidyante hṛdayasyeha granthayaḥ, atha martyo'mṛto bhavaty etāvad anuśāsanam (2.3.15): One becomes immortal when the knots of the heart are rent asunder. There are so many knots. We call them Brahma-granthi, Vishnu-granthi, Rudra-granthi, etc. They are something like the plexuses spoken of in the kundalini or the hatha yoga shastras. These granthis, or the knots of the heart, are the three cities which Lord Siva broke with one arrow. He is called Tripura Samhari, Tripurari. He destroyed the three cities of the demons, and these cities are also the granthis. Philosophically, these granthis are knots constituted of avidya, kama and karma. The inability to comprehend the nature of Reality is called avidya. This inability to contemplate Reality creates a compulsion to see the world outside, though it is really not there. This is called kama. The desire to perceive a world on account of the inability to perceive Reality creates effort in the direction of the fulfilment of these desires. That is called karma. So avidya, kama and karma are the threefold knot, which are the granthis spoken of here: Rudra-granthi, Vishnu-granthi, and Brahma-granthi. These knots are rent asunder; the Gordian knot is cut. There is a knot called the Gordian knot. Some Emperor called Gordian tied a knot which was not possible to untie. Everyone tried their best, and Alexander the Great said, “I will rend it.” He took a sword and cut it into pieces. If we cannot untie it, we cut it.

It is a question of philosophical and practical sadhana whether we will cut our attachments or untie our attachments. Both these processes are prescribed. Sometimes the untying of the knot will take a long, long time. It may take years, or even some births, to untie one knot and then another knot. Because of the endless ramifications of it, a lot of time is taken. But if we cut it in one stroke, sometimes danger is there. There will be a reaction produced by the mind which may end in untoward psychological experiences, and it may compel the jiva to take birth in a very unfamiliar and unhappy circumstance. The untying of the knot or the cutting of the knot cannot be done independently by oneself, as no one can study the advanced stages of any subject by themselves. It requires proper instruction from a teacher. Anyway, the point is that these granthis have to be removed. We untie them or cut them, as the case may be.

Atha martyo'mṛto bhavaty etāvad anuśāsanam: Here the mortal becomes immortal. This is the instruction. Nothing more is to be said. Etāvad anuśāsanam: Yama speaks to Nachiketas, “Are you satisfied? All things that you need to know, I have imparted to you. Here is the final word.”

Śataṁ caikā ca hṛdayasya nāḍyas tāsām mūrdhānam abhiniḥsṛtaikā: tayordhvam āyann amṛtatvam eti, viṣvaṅṅ anyā utkramaṇe bhavanti (2.3.16): One hundred and one nerve currents are said to emanate from the centre of the heart. There are millions of nerve currents, but the main ones are one hundred and one. Tāsām mūrdhānam abhiniḥsṛtaikā: Among these nerve currents which are spread out throughout the body, one rises to the crown of the head. Tayordhvam āyann amṛtatvam eti: If the jiva departs through this central nerve current, called the sushumna, through the crown of the head, one attains immortality. Viṣvaṅṅ anyā utkramaṇe bhavanti: But if the prana departs horizontally or inversely through the lower parts of the body, there will be rebirth.

The belief is that if the prana departs through any aperture above the neck, there will be no rebirth. It can depart through the nostril or the ear or the mouth; or if it departs through the brahmarandhra, it means final salvation. And even if it is through the mouth, it may go to some region such as Brahmaloka, etc. But if the prana passes through any other horizontally moving nerve or downward moving current of the nerve, there will be rebirth in some realm or the other. So work has to be carried on through the practice of yoga by eliminating the circumstances which may make the nerve currents flow transversely or horizontally. They take that zigzag movement because of desires, which are horizontal.

All our desires are horizontal movements; they do not go vertically. They move to the front, to the rear, to the right, to the left, in the direction of objects. Because of the externality, the horizontality of the objects of attraction, the nerve currents and prana also move in that direction and compel us to take birth in this very world of objects. But if our consciousness rises up through the concepts of higher and higher dimensions of reality to the realms of being which are above, until we reach Brahmaloka and the Absolute, then the prana will push the consciousness through the sushumna nadi and pierce the brahmarandhra. There are some people who break the head with a coconut at the time of death—or sometimes they break the coconut only, just to give a semblance of the apparent movement of consciousness through the current of the head.

Aṅgusṭhamātraḥ puruṣo'ntarātmā sadā janānām hṛdaye sanniviṣṭaḥ, taṁ svāc charīrāt pravṛhen muñjād iveṣīkāṁ dhairyeṇa, taṁ vidyāc chukram amṛtaṁ taṁ vidyāc chukram amṛtaṁ iti (2.3.17): The Atman is lodged in the heart as a pith is inside munja grass. In a particular grass called munja, a sacred grass which brahmacharins tie during the upanayana ceremony, there is a special kind of pith. People who observe long fasts sometimes consume the pith of this grass, which stops appetite and hunger. Generally, when we fast we will have hunger, appetite. That temptation to eat something will cease if we take the pith of this munja grass. This Atman, which appears to be like a thumb-like flame in the heart of everyone always, in every person at all times, this Atman within has to be separated from the shackles of the gross, subtle and causal bodies as the pith inside the munja grass is separated by taking out the stock. That Being will immediately shine, as a captive is liberated from prison, and it will assume its universal power at once. Here the purity of the Atman is actually the universality of the Atman. Impurity is localisedness and finitude.

Taṁ vidyāc chukram amṛtaṁ taṁ vidyāc chukram amṛtaṁ: The repetition of a word in the Upanishad is always indicative of the closing of the Upanishad. This is the great knowledge that the Lord Yama imparted to Nachiketas.

Mṛtyu-protāṁ naciketo'tha labdhvā vidyām etām yogavidhiṁ ca kṛtsnam, brahmaprāpto virajo 'bhūd vimṛtyur anyopy evam yo vid adhyātmam eva (2.3.18): Blessed Nachiketas received this science of yoga in its entirety. This great knowledge of Brahman was imparted to him by Yama, the Lord of Death, and he attained to Brahman: brahmaprāpta. Nachiketas became free from the contamination of the body, and he was free from the trammels of death. Whoever takes recourse to this method which Nachiketas took will also attain immortality in a similar manner. Anyopy evam yo vid adhyātmam eva: It is not only Nachiketas who attained it; you and I also can attain it, provided we follow the same path which Nachiketas followed. That rejection of all values, that persistence in asking for Truth, that tenacity in knowing it somehow or other, concentrating the mind on the instruction that is given, and practising it assiduously until it is reached, these are the ways which Nachiketas adopted. He got it; and whoever follows this way of tenacious concentration on that Reality, rejecting all attachments, will also attain to the same goal.

This is the Kathopanishad—a great, grand scripture.

Oṁ sahanāvavatu, saha nau bhunaktu, saha vīryam karavāvahai, tejasvinavadhītamastu, mā vidviśāvahai, aum śāntih śāntih śāntih.