विवेचन सारांश

Transcending the Cycles of Time and Rebirth: The Supreme Path of Departure and Liberation

Bhagavān now reveals the unimaginable vastness of time, describing the cosmic scale through which creation and dissolution unfold. Those who are truly wise and spiritually mature – the yoginaḥ – understand the deeper essence of time (kāla-tattva).

According to this verse, one day of Brahmā is equivalent to one thousand catur-yugas, and so is his night. Those who grasp this reality are called ahorātra-vidaḥ – the knowers of cosmic day and night.

The measure of time in the Indic tradition is astoundingly subtle and sophisticated, far beyond what modern science has yet achieved. The ancient sages had already conceived of time units so refined that they remain beyond the reach of modern instruments.

The smallest unit begins with the paramāṇu – the atomic unit. Three aṇus make one triśreṇu. These are not only material particles, but also embodiments of energy and time. One can measure paramāṇu in terms of time, too. It is matter, energy, and time all at once.

Beyond this comes a unit called "tṛruti", which is the time taken by a sunray to cross a triśreṇu. Ten tṛrutis make a prāṇa, ten prāṇas make a bheda, and so on. Further up the scale:

Thus, a full day is made up of 30 muhūrtas, accounting for 24 hours.

15 days make up one pakṣa – the waxing or waning phase of the moon. Two pakṣas form one māsa (month). Now comes a striking insight: one day of the pitṛ-s (ancestral beings) is equal to one month of humans. While mortals pass through 30 days, the pitṛ-s experience a single day. Time flows at different speeds for different beings.

Two months form a ṛtu (season), and three ṛtus make one ayana. The year is divided into uttarāyaṇa (northern solstice) and dakṣiṇāyaṇa (southern solstice).

Thus, one human year equals one day and night of the devas. Their one day is our six months; their night is our next six. Hence, traditions speak of "devatā-so gaye" or "devatā-jāg gaye" – they are not literally asleep but experiencing night in cosmic terms.

A full life span of 100 human years is but one day for the devas. Extending further, Brahmā too has a life span of 100 divine years. But his time scale is on an entirely different magnitude:

Each catur-yuga (mahāyuga) consists of:

Totaling 4,320,000 human years = 1 mahāyuga

One day of Brahmā = 1000 such mahāyugas = 4.32 billion human years

Now consider: 14 manvantaras make one day of Brahmā. Each manvantara spans 71 mahāyugas. Currently, the cosmos is in the Vaivasvata Manvantara, the seventh of the fourteen. Even this manvantara is only partially completed.

When 100 such divine years (i.e., 36,000 Brahmā days) pass, Brahmā's lifespan ends. His age equals approximately:

31 trillion 10 billion 40 crore human years

(That is 1 followed by 15 zeroes.)

And yet, even Brahmā is not eternal. After the completion of his lifespan, he too must dissolve along with his worlds.

Bhagavān declares: those who understand these cosmic time cycles, who reflect on the profound reality of kāla-tattva, are indeed the yoginaḥ. They are the seers of truth, the wise who no longer chase temporary gains but aim only for the eternal parama-dhāma.

All beings arise from the unmanifest (avyakta) at the dawn of Brahmā’s day (ahar-āgame), and dissolve back into the same unmanifest reality at the onset of his night (rātryāgame). This avyakta is the subtle, unmanifest form of Brahmā himself – the cosmic causal body.

When Brahmā's day begins, the entire universe manifests from the latent potential. And when his night falls, the creation retracts, merging again into the imperceptible, subtle substratum. This cycle is timeless and perpetual.

This same bhūtagrāma – the collective of living beings – keeps manifesting and dissolving again and again. Bound by prakṛti, they appear at the dawn of the day, and at night, dissolve powerlessly.

O Pārtha, this entire cycle continues – day after day, night after night – under the influence of time and nature. No being has control over this process. This grand rhythm of cosmic emergence and dissolution is but a divine unfolding of kāla and māyā.

Bhagavān subtly conveys here: while the ordinary mind sees only the surface of creation, the discerning yogī perceives the profound dance of unmanifest and manifest, and yearns not for the fleeting, but for the eternal essence.

There exists yet another dimension — beyond the unmanifest, subtler than the subtlest. This eternal, imperishable reality is known as the sanātana avyakt bhāva. It transcends all that is manifest and unmanifest, and even when all beings perish, it alone remains unaffected and undestroyed.

Bhagavān reveals that this avyakt bhāva is not simply the dormant, unseen state from which the manifest arises. Rather, beyond even this unmanifest lies a higher, eternal, and imperishable state — the supreme, sanātana avyakt. This is the divine essence that remains intact even when all creation dissolves. Those who attain this state never return. That, declares Bhagavān, is His supreme abode — parama dhāma.

To understand this, one must grasp the cyclic nature of creation. All beings and worlds emerge from the avyakt into the vyakta (manifest) at the dawn of Brahmājī’s day. As night falls, all merge back into the unmanifest. Every cycle of creation and dissolution follows this rhythm.

During Brahmājī’s night, all lokas, beings, and deities become unmanifest; they dissolve into a state of nothingness. And with dawn, as Brahmājī awakens, creation arises again from that very unmanifest state. This continual cycle of manifestation and dissolution is known as pralaya and sṛtṛṣṭi.

There are several kinds of pralaya:

But how does this transition from vyakta to avyakta, and back, actually take place?

To explain, one may visualise a mobile or laptop screen. On that screen, a virtual meeting is ongoing, with people visible and voices audible. The moment the 'Leave' button is pressed, the screen goes blank. Everyone disappears. The visuals and sounds vanish. Press 'Join' again, and all returns — the people, the voices, the visuals. Was any of it truly gone? No. It only became unmanifest temporarily.

Similarly, think of a tribal person who has never seen a television. When shown an LED screen with elephants running across, he may wonder where those elephants are hidden inside such a thin screen. When the channel is changed and a mountain appears, his amazement increases. The screen remains one inch thick, yet shows enormous beings and landscapes.

Or imagine someone downloading thousands of bhajans, discourses, and photos into a mobile device. Even when 256 GB of content is added, the weight of the device remains unchanged. And when formatted, everything is deleted, yet again, there is no change in weight. Whether content is added or erased, the medium remains the same.

In the same way, Brahmājī doesn’t physically assemble creation every morning like a potter moulding clay. He does not mix ingredients to build donkeys, trees, men and women. It happens automatically — through divine mechanism.

This universe is like a massive data program embedded in a divine pen drive. When Brahmājī wakes, the data becomes active; when he sleeps, it gets archived. This is one brahmāṇḍa — one universe. There are innumerable such universes, each with its own Brahmājī. Hence, the phrase: koṭi-koṭi brahmāṇḍoṃ ke svāmī Bhagavān — Bhagavān is the master of countless universes and creators.

But a question arises: when Brahmājī himself ceases to exist after completing his lifespan, where does creation go? Who maintains it then? What remains when even the pen drive is gone?

At that point, Bhagavān introduces a profound term from the Gītā — avyakta saṇjñaka. This is a rare concept, found solely in these verses.

When Brahmājī vanishes, the universe doesn't vanish into nonexistence. It reverts to a primordial, formless, dormant state — avyakta saṇjñaka, the raw, pre-creation state. It is from this avyakta saṇjñaka that a new Brahmājī emerges, and through him, a new cycle of creation begins.

Even at this deep level of unmanifest existence, karma-phala remains intact. The cosmic account doesn't vanish. Each being's actions, merits, and demerits are stored, awaiting the right conditions to unfold again.

Bhagavān explains that beyond all that is manifest and unmanifest, beyond Brahmājī and even his pre-form state, there exists the parastasmāt bhāva — the supreme, eternal, unchanging truth. That sanātana avyakt never ceases, even when everything else does.

yaḥ (s) sa sarveṣu bhūteṣu, naśyatsu na vinaśyati — when all beings perish, that reality does not perish.

Bhagavān is that eternal, supreme existence. He declares: "I remain forever. Even when countless Brahmājīs arise and fall, I alone remain. I never come or go. I just am."

Thus, through subtle metaphors and simple analogies, the concept of sanātana avyakt bhāva is made accessible. In the age of pen drives and mobile data, one can now comprehend how the unmanifest and manifest seamlessly shift, without change in substance. And yet, beyond all this fluctuation, beyond even the unmanifest, exists that supreme, unchanging, eternal essence — Bhagavān Himself.

This avyakta, the unmanifest, is referred to as akṣara — imperishable. It is the supreme destination, paramāṁ gatim, that once attained, one never returns. Bhagavān proclaims: this taddhāma paramaṃ mama — this is My supreme abode.

What, then, is the state called mokṣa, bhagavat-prāpti, ātma-sākṣātkāra, or kaivalya? All these terms point to this very state: reaching that eternal, imperishable unmanifest.

Bhagavān declares that even the realm of Brahmaloka must be transcended. Beyond Brahmājī and his loka lies this timeless, immutable avyakta. Once one attains it, there is no return — yaṃ prāpya na nivartante. As long as one remains within the sphere of Brahmājī, the cycle of birth and death continues: punarapi jananaṃ punarapi maraṇaṃ, punarapi jananī jaṭhare śayanam. Again and again, one is born, dies, and takes shelter in a mother's womb.

This has been happening for countless lives — becoming gods, dogs, donkeys, horses, humans, men, women, saints, criminals — constantly shifting as per the fruits of karma. This unending cycle does not halt on its own.

The only way to transcend this is described in the next verse:

Bhagavān explains that the supreme puruṣa, in whom all beings reside and who pervades the entire cosmos, can be attained only through ananyā bhakti — undivided devotion.

This marks a profound shift in the discourse. Until now, the teachings leaned toward jñāna-yoga, the path of knowledge. Often, jñāna-mārgīs see bhaktas as inferior, thinking that those who worship a form are yet immature and must eventually come to the unmanifest. But here, Bhagavān shatters this myth. Even while speaking of the subtlest concepts of the unmanifest, He suddenly shifts the gear and brings the seeker to bhakti.

He proclaims that even the unmanifest, supreme avyakta, can be attained through ananyā bhakti alone, not through any other means.

This raises an important clarification: ananyatva doesn’t mean choosing one deity and rejecting others. Many get confused: "I worship Kṛṣṇa, so how can I go to Rāma’s temple?" or "If I serve Śiva, can I worship Durgā?" This is a misunderstanding. Ananyatva means: "I desire nothing but Bhagavān."

One sees all forms of divinity as manifestations of the same truth. Whether one prays to Gaṇeśa, Viṣṇu, Śiva, Durgā — the form may differ, but the essence is one. Bhagavān is the one responding to every call.

Call Him by any name, view Him in any form — the One who responds is the same. One may call someone with spectacles, or wearing a jacket, or by their profession or personal name — yet it is the same person responding. Just so, all names and forms lead to the One, the eka.

Thus, the true bhakta may visit any temple of Rāma, Kṛṣṇa, Śiva, or Durgā — but seeks only their iṣṭa-devatā through every form. One may go to Vaishno Devī to ask for the grace of Rāma, or to Rām Lallā to grow in Kṛṣṇa-bhakti. That is ananya bhakti: "I seek none but You."

"Mero to Giridhar Gopāla, dūsaro na koī" — "Only Giridhar Gopāla is mine, none else."

Ananya bhakti begins when the seeker desires nothing from Bhagavān but Bhagavān Himself. Most often, people pray for worldly comforts: health, success, wealth, ease. Even on sacred days like ekādaśī, their focus remains on gaining material benefit. But until one lets go of worldly desires and says, "I seek You alone," true ananyatva cannot begin.

When one reaches this state, Bhagavān says that the devotee attains the sanātana avyakta — the eternal, unmanifest truth. And such a soul never returns to the cycle of birth and death.

The verses from 8.23 to 8.26, Bhagavān says, are subtle and complex. They can be confusing. Many readers struggle with them for years. The real meaning is not grasped until one listens to the wisdom of an enlightened master. Without that guidance, these verses may seem like errors in print or speech.

Bhagavān Himself encourages seekers to pay close attention. A subtle, deeper mystery awaits in these verses, revealed only through lived wisdom and true inquiry.

Bhagavān now introduces a subtle distinction: the times at which a yogī departs the body can influence whether they return to this world or attain the state of no-return. The verse appears to suggest that the time of death determines whether the yogī attains anāvṛtti (non-return) or āvṛtti (return). He addresses Arjuna as bharatarṣabha, the best among the Bhāratas, and promises to reveal these two paths in detail.

Among the two celestial paths, the first is associated with Agni (fire), jyotiḥ (light), ahaḥ (day), śukla-pakṣa (bright fortnight of the lunar month), and the uttarāyaṇa (six months of the sun’s northern course). Those who depart during this bright, auspicious phase are taken, step by step, by presiding deities of these luminous forces to attain Brahman. These are the brahmavid yogīs — the knowers of the Supreme.

The second path is governed by dhūma (smoke), rātri (night), kṛṣṇa-pakṣa (dark fortnight), and the dakṣiṇāyana (southern solstice). The yogī who departs during this path, typically engaged in sakāma karma (action with desire), is led by deities of these dark forces to attain the lunar radiance, the cāndra jyotiḥ. After enjoying the fruits of punya (merit) in higher realms, such as svarga, such a soul eventually returns to saṃsāra, the world of birth and death.

These two paths — śukla-gati (bright path) and kṛṣṇa-gati (dark path) — are śāśvata (eternal) truths known to the wise. One leads to anāvṛtti (no return), and the other to āvṛtti (return). The former is the path of liberation; the latter, the path of return to worldly existence.

At first glance, this may seem to indicate that those who die during uttarāyaṇa (January to June) are liberated, while those who pass during dakṣiṇāyana (July to December) are reborn. But such an interpretation is superficial and not supported by a deeper understanding.

If taken literally, it would imply that all who pass away in the bright half of the year are liberated, regardless of their karma or consciousness. Conversely, even an accomplished yogī passing during dakṣiṇāyana would be reborn. This cannot be the message of the Gītā.

The deeper meaning unfolds with a refined perspective. These references to light and dark, bright and obscure, uttarāyaṇa and dakṣiṇāyana, should not be reduced to mere astronomical periods or lunar phases. They symbolise the internal disposition, clarity, and purity of the departing consciousness.

If the consciousness is absorbed in the luminous knowledge of Brahman, with unwavering awareness of Bhagavān, that is the true śukla-gati, regardless of the calendar date. And if the consciousness is obscured by attachment, desire, or ignorance, it follows the kṛṣṇa-gati and returns to saṃsāra, regardless of the external season.

Thus, the Gītā points not just to cosmic timings but to the inner light one carries at the time of death. One's bhāva (inner disposition) at that final moment determines whether they ascend into liberation or return to the cycle.

The concept of uttarāyaṇa and dakṣiṇāyana—though not central to liberation—is nevertheless referenced in the Bhagavad Gītā, and therefore warrants some reflection to dispel confusion.

These two paths are associated with specific cosmic deities: uttarāyaṇa is presided over by one devatā and dakṣiṇāyana by another. While ountless devatās governing various natural functions, only a few select ones are mentioned in this context.

A general misconception prevails that one who dies during uttarāyaṇa is assured of svarga-loka, whereas death during dakṣiṇāyana implies a descent toward naraka-loka. But the reality is subtler and demands clarity.

To understand this, a relatable analogy from the era of postal systems helps. Consider an old red postbox installed at a city square. Each box displayed the time it would be emptied—for example, 2:00 PM. If one deposited a letter at 1:00 PM, it would be collected the same day. If at 3:00 PM, it would remain until the next day’s pickup. Thus, when the letter was posted didn’t determine when it reached its destination; when it was collected did.

In the same way, one’s exact time of death is not what governs their spiritual destination. Instead, the devatās responsible for uttarāyaṇa and dakṣiṇāyana operate on cosmic timing mechanisms, guiding the soul's journey according to its karmic record.

Think of the first messenger of death—mṛtyudūta—as the one who collects the soul and delivers it to the celestial post office. From there, the soul is sorted and handed over to the respective presiding devatās. One of these pathways leads to what can be compared to an up-train, and the other to a down-train.

The up-train, governed by the uttarāyaṇa devatās, carries souls toward higher realms—svarga, apavarga (final liberation), and beyond. The down-train, aligned with dakṣiṇāyana, leads primarily to experiences in svarga or naraka based on merits or demerits, but not to apavarga. The up-train path, particularly via the śukla-pakṣa and its associated deities like agnir, jyotiḥ, and ahaḥ, can escort a yogī to the realms beyond brahma-loka toward the sanātana avyakta.

On the contrary, the dakṣiṇāyana path, associated with dhūma, rātri, kṛṣṇa-pakṣa, and dakṣiṇāyana months, is presided over by devatās that deliver the soul to temporary realms like svarga and naraka where karmas are enjoyed or exhausted before returning to mortal birth.

Thus, these routes do not work on a simplistic calendar system. It is not that dying in January assures liberation and dying in September assures rebirth. Rather, the devatās on duty at those cosmic timings determine the route based on one’s karmic account.

A common confusion stems from the well-known incident of Bhīṣma Pitāmaha, who postponed his departure from the body to wait for uttarāyaṇa. This leads many to believe that death during uttarāyaṇa guarantees liberation. But nowhere in Mahābhārata is it mentioned that Bhīṣma waited to die only because of liberation. His wait was born of a desire to behold the solar transition—sūrya-saṅkrānti—and possibly, to perform his final departure in the presence of auspicious solar energy.

Thus, it is important not to mistake celestial timings for fixed results. Just as depositing a letter late doesn’t delay delivery if it’s collected on time, so too the time of death is secondary. It is the divine mechanism—guided by karmas and devatās—that ultimately determines whether one is placed in svarga, naraka, or taken further toward mokṣa. Once this system is understood, the shlokas of the Gītā in this section unfold with clarity.

Understanding the two cosmic paths—those of return and non-return—a yogī never gets deluded. Hence, one must remain united with yoga at all times. The emphasis is not merely on being a good person but on being steadily united with the goal of Bhagavat-prāpti. Whether it is cooking, office work, or family conversations—whatever the activity, the remembrance of Bhagavān must continue.

Bhagavān doesn’t seek to make Arjuna a morally upright person alone; He wants him firmly rooted in the path of ultimate union. Thus, He opens up this subtle knowledge to inspire continuous sādhana. Even amidst the battlefield, He instructs: Remember Me while performing your duties.

A yogī who truly understands this sacred knowledge transcends all fruits prescribed in the Vedas, sacrifices, austerities, and charity. Though he performs these acts of merit, he does so without attachment to their fruits. Because of this inner renunciation, he surpasses even the loftiest gains of karmic actions and attains that eternal supreme abode—paraṃ sthānam.

Such a yogī walks the path of niṣkāma karma, performing good deeds without desiring rewards. This is what enables him to go beyond the devas of the śukla-mārga and even surpass the brahma-loka, ultimately reaching Bhagavān’s eternal dhāma.

As Gosvāmī Tulsīdās poignantly wrote:

“Yah tana kar phala viṣaya na bhāī,
svarga salpa anta dukhadāī.”

The pleasures of the body and even heavenly joys are temporary and ultimately painful, as they must one day end. Thus, instead of aspiring for heavenly pleasures, one must aspire for bhakti.

As the Bhāgavatam prescribes:

śravaṇaṃ kīrtanaṃ viṣṇoḥ smaraṇaṃ pāda-sevanam
arcanaṃ vandanaṃ dāsyaṃ sakhyam ātma-nivedanam

And as described in the Rāmāyaṇa, Bhagavān spoke of navadhā bhakti to Śabarī. Walking this path of devotion, one’s life is elevated. This is the direction in which the Gītā guides the seeker.

Hari Om Tat Sat. Hari Om Tat Sat. Hari Om Tat Sat.

Hari śaraṇam, Hari śaraṇam... (repeated in saṅkīrtana)

Everyone is invited to participate in the upcoming celebrations marking five years of Learn Gītā. From cities across the world, devotees will gather. One may visit the website, register as an organiser, and even host an event in their area. Details can be found on the platform, including venue options, roles, and contact help lines. One can also explore events by entering their PIN code.

Whether joining virtually or in person, all are welcome to partake in this worldwide celebration of the Gītā. Let this festival be a beautiful excuse to spread the message of Gītā far and wide.

Jai Śrī Kṛṣṇa.

Manju Ji
Q: You explained Uttarāyaṇa and Dakṣiṇāyana beautifully today. I’ve heard of these before, but I’d like to know: what is the meaning of the word ayana in Dakṣiṇāyana and Uttarāyaṇa? Also, why is the “na” different in the two?
A: The word is originally ayana, meaning “movement” or “path.” There are two ayanas – each of six months duration. Due to Sanskrit sandhi (phonetic combination rules), the endings change. In Uttarāyaṇa, the “na” becomes the bāṇ (retroflex nasal), while in Dakṣiṇāyana, it remains the nal (dental nasal). This transformation follows specific rules in Sanskrit grammar. In English, this distinction disappears as both are represented by the same letter “n,” which reflects the limitations of the English script in expressing such nuances.


Rajnish Ji
Q: If humans alone can perform karma, and other life forms cannot, how does a being return to human birth after being born in a lower yoni (like an animal)?
A: Human birth is the middle platform. After going through various yonis—whether due to good or bad karma—one ultimately returns to the human form to again perform fresh karma. There's no rule that says one must go through other births before becoming human again. Even after a hundred human births, one can still continue in the human form if the karma allows. The cycle involves exhausting good and bad karma in different forms, and returning to the human form to begin again.


Mridul Ji
Q: Is it necessary to have a Guru to chant mantras like Hare Rāma Hare Kṛṣṇa? What if we chant sincerely on our own?
A: There’s no harm in chanting independently, but the impact is limited. Chanting without initiation is like throwing a bullet with your hand—it might hit, but lacks the power to destroy. With a Guru’s initiation (dīkṣā), that same mantra is empowered, like a bullet fired from a gun—it carries the Guru’s tapobal (spiritual energy). Though the mantra remains the same, when received through a Guru, it gains immense potency due to their blessings and lineage.

As for finding a true Guru, one must avoid the trap of social media popularity and instead evaluate a Guru based on four tests:

A true sadguru uplifts the seeker with spiritual authenticity and scriptural grounding.

Mandakini Ji
Q: My in-laws follow a sect called Māṇḍopanthi or Mahānubhāv Panth, and they say we shouldn’t worship or offer service to deities like Gaṇapati or Śiva. What should I do in such a case?
A: As far as known, no Sanātana tradition prohibits the worship of other deities. In fact, the worship of Pañcāyatana devatās (five principal deities) is prescribed in scriptures and was also advocated by Ādi Śaṅkarācārya. If someone follows a very specific sectarian rule, they may choose their path, but there's no harm or spiritual loss in worshipping deities like Gaṇapati or Śiva. Worshipping any form of Bhagavān never causes harm; it only leads to spiritual benefit.


Sheela Ji
Q: Why does Makara Saṅkrānti always fall on January 14th, unlike other festivals which shift dates?
A: Most of our festivals follow the lunar calendar, which is based on the moon’s motion, hence their dates shift in the Roman calendar. However, Makara Saṅkrānti follows the solar calendar, based on the sun's movement. Since the Roman calendar is also solar, Makara Saṅkrānti usually falls on January 14th. That said, due to the precession of the equinoxes, the date shifts by one day every 72 years. For instance, during Swami Vivekānanda’s birth in 1863, Saṅkrānti was on January 12th.


Krishan Lal Ji
Q: You beautifully cleared the misconception that dying in Dakṣiṇāyana leads to hell. But I have a doubt: what exactly does the term abhimānī devatā mean?
A: In this context, abhimān does not mean ego. Rather, it means “appointed” or “in charge.” So, abhimānī devatā refers to the devatās appointed to oversee certain cosmic functions or paths—not beings with ego, but designated celestial administrators.

The session concluded with prayers and chanting Hanuman Chalisa.