विवेचन सारांश

The Dilemma of Dharma – Arjuna’s Moral Standstill

This verse captures the moment when Arjuna’s emotional turbulence first surfaces, disrupting his warrior composure as he confronts a battlefield full of beloved faces.

• kṛipayā parayā āviṣṭaḥ – Arjuna is engulfed by supreme compassion. This is not a fleeting emotion but a total emotional takeover, where empathy, attachment, and moral hesitation cloud his warrior instinct.
• viṣīdan – Arjuna is not merely uncertain—he is grieving. The word suggests emotional collapse and inner turmoil, reflecting a deep conflict between duty and affection.
• svajanam dṛṣṭvā – As Arjuna sees his own relatives—those he grew up with, revered, and loved—his perception shifts. He no longer sees enemies, only his own people.
• yuyutsum samupasthitam – These very kinsmen stand in battle formation, fully armed and ready to fight. The harsh reality of their willingness to kill and be killed shakes Arjuna to his core.

Arjuna is no ordinary warrior. As Sant Jñāneshwar Maharaj describes in the Dnyaneshwari:

जेणे संग्रामी हरू जिंतिला । निवातकवचांचा ठावो फेडिला ।
तो अर्जुन मोहें कवळिला । क्षणामाजि ॥

The one who had once conquered Bhagavān Śiva in battle, who had destroyed the mighty Nivātakavacha demons—that same Arjuna was suddenly engulfed by delusion and emotional weakness, all in a single moment.

Story of Arjuna and Bhagavān Śiva
During the Pāṇḍavas' exile, Arjuna undertook intense penance to obtain divine weapons. To test his strength and devotion, Bhagavān Śiva appeared in the form of a tribal hunter (Kirāta). When a wild boar charged toward Arjuna, both he and the hunter shot it simultaneously, each claiming the kill. This led to a fierce battle. Despite Arjuna’s best efforts, he could not defeat the hunter. Eventually, recognizing the hunter’s divine nature when he saw his garland reappear around the hunter’s neck, Arjuna surrendered in humility. Pleased with his valor and devotion, Bhagavān Śiva revealed His true form and blessed Arjuna with the Pāśupata Astra, a divine weapon granted only to the most worthy.

The deeper implication
This verse marks the first wave of Arjuna’s internal collapse. Though physically unshaken, his mind begins to falter. Compassion rises within him, but instead of guiding him, it binds him. He becomes paralyzed—not by fear, but by the emotional and moral burden of facing his loved ones in battle. This is not a sign of weakness, but the moment when human emotion collides with dharma—giving rise to a spiritual awakening.

Key Insight
Arjuna’s sorrow reflects an eternal truth: when duty, relationships, and personal values collide, clarity fades. Yet in that very confusion lies the seed of transformation. The Bhagavad Gītā does not begin with wisdom—it begins with inner conflict. It is in this moment of breakdown that the journey toward higher understanding truly begins.

This verse continues to reveal Arjuna’s emotional breakdown, now manifesting as physical symptoms. His inner turmoil begins to affect his body, reflecting the total impact of grief, fear, and confusion.

• sīdanti mama gātrāṇi – My limbs give way. Arjuna feels his strength leaving him. The once-firm warrior now experiences weakness and instability, as if his body is collapsing under emotional weight.
• mukhaṃ ca pariśuṣyati – My mouth is drying up. His throat goes dry—a common physical sign of anxiety and dread. This shows that his distress is not just mental, but deeply somatic.
• vepathuḥ ca śarīre me – My body is trembling. A shiver or tremor runs through him. This involuntary shaking reflects fear and nervous collapse, rare for someone of Arjuna’s battlefield experience.
• romaharṣaś ca jāyate – My hair stands on end. Goosebumps—often a sign of deep shock or a powerful emotional surge—indicate that Arjuna is overwhelmed beyond reason.

The deeper implication
Arjuna is experiencing a profound visāda—a grief so intense that it disrupts both mind and body. This physical breakdown emphasizes the severity of his emotional conflict. It reveals that the greatest warriors are not immune to human vulnerability when faced with moral complexity and personal attachment.

Key Insight
The Bhagavad Gītā speaks to every human being through Arjuna’s moment of collapse. When emotions like grief, love, and duty collide, even the strong may tremble. But such breakdowns often open the path to deeper self-awareness and transformation. Arjuna’s trembling body is not a sign of failure—it is the prelude to his spiritual awakening.

This verse continues Arjuna’s unraveling, as his emotional turmoil begins to manifest physically. His bodily reactions reflect the inner storm of grief, fear, and confusion.

• gāṇḍīvaṃ sraṃsate hastāt – The bow Gāṇḍīva slips from my hand. Gāṇḍīva was no ordinary bow—it was gifted by the gods and symbolized Arjuna’s warrior identity and divine mission. Its slipping signifies the disconnection from his role and the collapse of his inner resolve.
• tvāk caiva paridahyate – My skin burns all over. The burning sensation reveals intense inner agitation. This could be due to shame, anxiety, or moral anguish—strong emotions that now surface physically.
• na ca śaknomy avasthātum – I am unable to stand steady. Just as his mental clarity fades, Arjuna also loses physical strength. His composure is breaking down both inside and out.
• bhramatīva ca me manaḥ – My mind is reeling. His thoughts are spinning in confusion. He cannot hold a steady perspective, and the weight of the situation overwhelms his judgment.

How did this sudden shift in Arjuna’s composure happen?
Sant Jñāneshwar Maharaj explains this beautifully in the Dnyaneshwari:

“तेथ मनीं गजबज जाहली । आणि आपैसी कृपा आली ।
तेणें अपमानें निघाली । वीरवृत्ति ॥”

At that moment, there was a commotion in Arjuna’s mind. A sudden wave of compassion arose within him. And with that, his heroic spirit quietly slipped away.

To further illustrate, Sant Jñāneshwar gives a striking metaphor:

“जैसा भ्रमर भेदी कोडें । भलतैसें काष्ठ कोरडें ।
परि कळिकेमाजी सांपडे । कोंवळिये ॥” 

Just as a black bee can bore through dry, tough wood, yet gets trapped in a tender flower bud, Arjuna—capable of conquering great challenges—now finds himself helpless before the delicate emotion of compassion.

The deeper implication
This verse marks the height of Arjuna’s disorientation. The outer sign of his strength—his bow—has fallen, and the inner anchor—his mind—is unsteady. It is a total collapse of both role and self-perception. This breakdown, however, is essential. Only in such a moment of surrender can the mind become receptive to true wisdom. By losing what he held on to—duty, pride, identity—Arjuna becomes ready for transformation.

Key Insight

Before higher wisdom can enter, ego and attachment must loosen their grip. Arjuna’s trembling hands and spinning mind show us that spiritual realization often begins where worldly certainty ends. This verse prepares the ground for divine instruction—for when the hero falls, the teacher begins to speak.

This verse deepens Arjuna’s psychological and moral crisis. His inner disturbance now begins to cloud his foresight and convictions.

• nimittāni ca paśyāmi – I see omens (signs) all around me. Arjuna begins to sense intuitively that something is wrong. These signs are not literal astrological omens, but his emotional state projects negativity onto everything he perceives.
• viparītāni keśava – And they all seem unfavorable, O Keśava. Arjuna tells Śrī Krishna that everything appears inauspicious. Even before the battle begins, he sees defeat—not necessarily in war, but in dharma, morality, and human values.
• na ca śreyaḥ anupaśyāmi – I do not see any good (or spiritual welfare). Arjuna isn’t merely hesitant—he cannot see any higher good coming from this war, especially the inner benefit or righteousness that war might be meant to uphold.
• hatvā svajanam āhave – By killing my own people in battle. This is the heart of Arjuna’s conflict: the idea of killing svajana—his own. His sense of self is still tied deeply to relationships and identities, which makes it impossible for him to act with detachment.

The deeper implication
Arjuna’s inner vision has become clouded by emotion. The inability to see “śreyas” (spiritual good) is key—when bound by attachment and sorrow, even dharma can appear as adharma. His declaration about omens suggests that when the heart is disturbed, even the world appears to reflect that turmoil. This inner chaos makes it impossible for him to act with clarity.

Key Insight
This verse reveals how perception is shaped by emotion. When overwhelmed by grief or attachment, even the right path appears wrong. Arjuna’s confusion shows us that spiritual insight requires more than knowledge—it demands inner balance and detachment. Without that, even noble intentions are obscured by personal pain.

This verse continues Arjuna’s deep emotional disillusionment. He begins to question the very goals that the war is meant to achieve.

• na kāṅkṣe vijayaṃ kṛṣṇa – I do not desire victory, O Kṛṣṇa. Arjuna expresses a complete lack of interest in the outcome of war. Victory no longer holds any appeal, as his heart is overwhelmed by sorrow and detachment from ambition.
• na ca rājyaṃ sukhāni ca – Nor kingdom, nor pleasures. Not only victory, but the kingdom that would come with it, and the material pleasures it brings, have all lost their value in Arjuna's eyes.
• kiṃ no rājyena govinda – What is the use of kingdom to us, O Govinda? He now questions the purpose of fighting itself. What is the point of ruling, if the price is unbearable?
• kiṃ bhogair jīvitena vā – What is the use of enjoyment or life itself? This is not nihilism, but a powerful moment of moral reckoning. If life must be lived at the cost of loved ones, can it still be called life worth living?

The deeper implication
Arjuna’s identity as a warrior and prince begins to dissolve. The goals that once defined his purpose—victory, power, enjoyment—now feel hollow. This verse signals a turning point: the detachment he expresses is not yet spiritual but emotional, born of sorrow. Yet it sets the foundation for Śrī Krishna to introduce true detachment rooted in wisdom.

Key Insight
Sometimes life compels us to question everything we once pursued. Arjuna’s disillusionment with power, pleasure, and even life itself is a natural reaction when dharma is misunderstood or overwhelmed by emotion. But this breakdown of material desire is also the first step on the spiritual path. When the outer rewards no longer satisfy, the inner search begins.

Arjuna now moves deeper into the emotional and moral contradiction he feels. He points out the sheer irony of fighting for worldly pleasures that will be meaningless if the very people they are meant for are lost in war.

• yeṣām arthe kāṅkṣitaṃ no – For whose sake we have desired... Arjuna reflects that the motivations behind seeking power and pleasures were never selfish—they were meant to be shared with those he loves.
• rājyaṃ bhogāḥ sukhāni ca – ...kingdom, enjoyments, and comforts. These are the very fruits of war. But what is the worth of these enjoyments if they cannot be shared with dear ones?
• ta ime avasthitā yuddhe – They now stand here in battle. The same loved ones—elders, teachers, cousins—stand ready to fight. This turns the battlefield into a ground of inner conflict.
• prāṇān tyaktvā dhanāni ca – Having already given up their lives and wealth. Arjuna sees them as already lost—either because they will die, or because they have mentally given up their old familial roles and possessions in committing to war.

The deeper implication
Arjuna is now gripped by the full paradox of war: the very people he seeks to protect and please through victory are the ones he must destroy to obtain it. This creates a moral deadlock—what is the value of success built on the loss of those we love? His heart begins to question the very foundation of his duty.

Key Insight
True dharma cannot be based on selfish ambition, but even noble goals must be tested by the fire of compassion. Arjuna’s sorrow reveals that unless our goals are aligned with inner clarity and spiritual vision, even victory can feel like defeat. His conflict is not weakness—it is the seed of wisdom awakening.

This verse expands on Arjuna’s sorrow by listing the many relationships he sees on the battlefield. It personalizes his grief and intensifies the emotional weight of the war.

• ācāryāḥ – Teachers like Dronacharya, who guided him in the art of war, now stand as opponents.
• pitaraḥ – Fathers and fatherly elders whom he reveres, symbolizing his dharmic and emotional roots.
• putrāḥ – Sons or younger members of the family, full of potential and future, now caught in destruction.
• tathaiva ca pitāmahāḥ – And grandfathers, most notably Bhishma, whom Arjuna deeply honors.
• mātulāḥ – Maternal uncles, like Shalya—figures of affection and familial connection.
• śvaśurāḥ – Fathers-in-law, symbolizing bonds created through marriage.
• pautrāḥ – Grandsons, the next generation who will carry forward the legacy.
• śyālāḥ – Brothers-in-law, again extending the web of affection and duty.
• sambandhinaḥ tathā – And other relatives, encompassing cousins, kin, and extended family.

The deeper implication
This verse reveals that for Arjuna, the battlefield is not filled with enemies—it is filled with relationships. The Mahābhārata is not a war of strangers; it is a war within a family. Every arrow fired would wound the fabric of his own life. The more he reflects, the more personal the war becomes, turning the warrior’s clarity into compassionate chaos.

Key Insight
Dharma becomes deeply complex when relationships are involved. Arjuna’s dilemma is universal: how do we fulfill our duty when it may harm those we love? His breakdown is not just emotional—it is ethical, spiritual, and deeply human. It sets the stage for the Bhagavad Gītā’s core message: transcending attachment while upholding righteous action.

Arjuna's disinterest in war deepens into a firm moral stance. He now renounces not only earthly rewards but even celestial ones if they come at the cost of killing his own people.

• etān na hantum icchāmi – I do not wish to kill these men. Arjuna firmly declares his refusal to kill, emphasizing emotional attachment and ethical discomfort.
• ghnato'pi madhusūdana – Even if they were to attack me, O Madhusūdana. He is prepared to accept death rather than raise a weapon against his loved ones. This shows a deep turn from the warrior spirit to personal sacrifice.
• api trailokya-rājyasya hetoḥ – Even for the kingdom of the three worlds. This refers to absolute power over heaven, earth, and the underworld. Arjuna is saying that even the greatest reward is not worth the sin of killing kin.
• kiṃ nu mahī-kṛte – How much less for a mere earthly kingdom. If heavenly rewards cannot justify violence, then surely a worldly kingdom is even less significant.

The deeper implication
Arjuna’s rejection is now complete—not just of war, but of the motivations behind it. He is no longer thinking like a kṣatriya (warrior), but like a seeker torn between dharma and emotion. This shift challenges conventional duty and sets up the need for a higher perspective that only Śrī Krishna can provide.

Key Insight
When the cost of action feels morally unbearable, even the highest rewards lose their meaning. Arjuna's stand shows us that without inner clarity, outer achievement is empty. His words reflect a profound ethical sensitivity—but also reveal confusion between emotional refusal and spiritual renunciation. The Gītā will now begin to address this very gap.

Arjuna’s reasoning now shifts from personal grief to a moral and philosophical objection. He begins to express concern over dharma and the consequences of killing, even if justified by aggression.

• nihatya dhārtarāṣṭrān naḥ kā prītiḥ syāt – What joy could there be for us in killing the sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra? Arjuna questions the very satisfaction of victory. Even if successful, the emotional and spiritual cost would leave no space for joy.
• janārdana – O Janārdana (one who destroys the evil in people) – Arjuna appeals to Śrī Krishna with this name, as if asking for guidance on right action in this difficult moral situation.
• pāpam eva āśrayet asmān – Sin alone would cling to us. Arjuna believes that regardless of justification, killing family will result in pāpa—moral wrongdoing that taints the soul.
• hatvā etān ātatāyinaḥ – Even if they are aggressors (criminal attackers). Interestingly, Arjuna acknowledges that the Kauravas are ātatāyinaḥ—those who commit grave crimes like arson, theft, or attempting to kill. Yet, his heart refuses to accept the moral permissibility of killing them.

The deeper implication
Arjuna's conflict is not just emotional anymore—it is rooted in dharma-saṅkaṭa, a crisis of righteous action. He recognizes the aggression of the Kauravas, yet cannot reconcile this with the idea of killing his kin. His moral compass is clouded by attachment, but also shaped by genuine concern for virtue and future consequence.

Key Insight
Even when justice appears clear, the heart may hesitate. Arjuna's stand shows that dharma is not always black and white—especially when family, emotion, and violence are intertwined. This verse illustrates the complexity of action, the fear of accruing sin, and the need for divine wisdom to guide such inner conflict.

This verse continues Arjuna’s appeal to emotion and ethics, building on his inner conflict. He now draws a conclusion: killing his own family is not appropriate, regardless of the circumstances.

• tasmāt nārhā vayaṃ hantuṃ – Therefore, we are not justified in killing them. Arjuna now speaks from a firm inner conviction. He doesn’t see this as just a preference but as a matter of right and wrong.
• dhārtarāṣṭrān svabāndhavān – The sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra, our relatives. He refers to the enemy not as opponents, but as relatives—a reminder of the blood ties that make this war unbearable for him.
• svajanam hi kathaṃ hatvā – How can we kill our own people? This line is deeply personal. Arjuna’s sense of self is still rooted in relationships and affection, which makes the idea of violence unbearable.
• sukhinaḥ syāma mādhava – How could we live happily, O Mādhava? Even if victory is achieved, joy will be absent. To Arjuna, there can be no happiness built on the foundation of bloodshed.

The deeper implication
Arjuna’s use of terms like svabāndhavān and svajanam—his own relatives—indicates how tightly his identity is woven with his family. This attachment is the root of his hesitation, not just moral concern. His emotional dharma (love and care) is at odds with his warrior dharma (justice and protection), and in that tug-of-war, his heart chooses compassion.

Key Insight
Arjuna’s dilemma reminds us that true conflict often lies not between right and wrong, but between two rights—justice and love, duty and compassion. His unwillingness to fight is not cowardice; it is the soul’s struggle to find clarity amidst moral complexity. This verse echoes the cry of every heart caught between responsibility and relationship.

The session concluded with a heartfelt offering at the lotus feet of Śrī Bhagavān. Following this, a Question and Answer session was conducted, allowing seekers to clarify their doubts and reflect deeper on the teachings of the Gītā.

Manisha Sharma ji

Q: We read the Bhagavad Gītā and other scriptures, yet why do we still struggle to overcome hatred and feelings of revenge toward those who harm us? Arjuna was able to rise above such emotions—why can’t we?

A: That’s a beautiful and honest question. The truth is, we have not yet reached the stage of true saintliness. Emotions like love and hatred are natural traits in every human being. As long as the senses (indriyas) are attracted or repelled by worldly objects (viṣayas), the dualities of rāga (attachment) and dveṣa (aversion) will exist within us.

In Chapter 3 of the Bhagavad Gītā, Śrī Bhagavān says:

इन्द्रियस्येन्द्रियस्यार्थे रागद्वेषौ व्यवस्थितौ ।
तयोर्न वशमागच्छेत्तौ ह्यस्य परिपन्थिनौ ॥ 3.34 ॥

The senses naturally develop attachment and aversion to sense objects, but one must not come under their control, for they are indeed obstacles on the path.

These tendencies are not created overnight—they are deeply rooted impressions from past lives. Overcoming them requires steady practice, patience, and grace.

Think of the mind as a cloth—just as a cloth gets dirty every day and needs to be washed, our mind too needs daily cleansing through reflection on the Gītā and living its wisdom in practice.

Naren Mudigonda ji

Q: Bhīṣma Pitāmaha was greatly revered by the Pāṇḍavas, and Arjuna was especially dear to him. How then did he agree to fight on the side of Duryodhana?

A: Bhīṣma Pitāmaha was indeed a towering figure of wisdom and valor, and he deeply loved the Pāṇḍavas, especially Arjuna. However, he was also bound by a lifelong vow of loyalty to the Kuru throne. His pledge was not to any one individual, but to the protectorate of the Kuru dynasty.

Even when his heart may have been with dharma, his vow to serve the throne—regardless of who sat on it—tied his hands. In essence, it was not Bhīṣma’s will that led him to side with adharma, but the binding force of a śapatha (pledge), which became an obstacle in acting upon his inner truth.

Gayatri Didi

Q: When even Bhagavān could not prevent the conflict between the Kauravas and the Pāṇḍavas, how can we expect to resolve conflicts in our own lives?

A: A profound question. The Bhagavad Gītā does not ask us to resolve the entire world’s problems—it teaches us to focus on our svadharma—our own duty.

Bhagavān, in His divine wisdom, knew the direction of time and the unfolding of karma. The war was not simply a conflict—it was a purification, a realignment of dharma.

We are not expected to solve every external issue. Instead, we must discern our responsibilities—toward our children, our parents, our society—and fulfill them sincerely. Let us not be disturbed by what others choose; instead, let us stay rooted in our own dharma and surrender the results to Him.