विवेचन सारांश

When Compassion Overpowered Valour

Sanjaya described to Dhritrashtra, that seated in a magnificent chariot yoked with white horses (śhvetairhayairyukte), Śrī Krishna and Arjuna made their grand entry into the battlefield. This was no ordinary chariot. It was a celestial gift granted to Arjuna directly by Agni, the god of fire. Along with it, Arjuna also possessed the divine Gāṇḍīva bow, likewise bestowed upon him by Agni Dev. How could a chariot in which the Bhagavān Himself was seated ever be considered ordinary?

Here, it is worthy to state that to truly understand the Bhagavad Gītā, one must try to place oneself in Arjuna’s position. Arjuna was no common warrior. He had performed severe austerities, undergone rigorous discipline, and devoted day and night to mastering the science of weapons and warfare. Such a hero, having earned his prowess through relentless effort, could never have entered the battlefield in a mere common chariot. That is why the scripture describes the chariot as mighty and a resplendent chariot (mahati syandane sthitau).

Here, the word “sthitau” is significant. In Sanskrit, unlike other languages such as Marathi, Hindi, or English, which recognise singular and plural, there are three numbers - singular (ekavachana), dual (dvivachana), and plural (bahuvachana). Here, sthitau is a dual form, referring precisely to two persons seated together - Mādhava Himself, and the Pandava, Arjuna, the son of Pandu.

Both of them then blew their divine conch. At this point, we must also keep in mind Arjuna’s state of mind. Sitting in the celestial chariot with the Bhagavān by his side, Arjuna entered the battlefield. Having heard Bhishma’s thunderous conch and the deafening blare of war instruments all around, Arjuna too raised his divine conch and blew it in reply.

This act of his was not casual. It signified that he was prepared, that his heart was set for battle. On the field of Kurukshetra, it was Mādhava who first blew HIS conch, and immediately after, Arjuna followed. Thus together, they declared their readiness for war.

Sanjaya further told King Dhritarashtra the names of the conches blown by Bhagavān Śrī Krishna and Arjuna. He said that Bhagavān blew HIS conch named Pāñchajanya, while Arjuna blew his divine conch called Devadattaṁ.

Here, Krishna is addressed as Hṛiṣhīkeśha. The word is formed from Hrishika meaning “senses” and Isha meaning “lord or master.” Thus, Hṛiṣhīkeśha signifies “the Lord of the senses” - the one who has complete mastery and control over all the senses. 

Similarly, Arjuna is addressed as Dhanañjaya. There is a story behind this name. During the Rajasuya Yajna, Arjuna had collected immense wealth and treasures from many kingdoms and brought them back for the sacrifice. Hence, he came to be known as Dhanañjayaḥ - the conqueror and gatherer of great wealth.

Along with Krishna and Arjuna, Bhima is also mentioned here. He is called Bhīma-karmā, meaning one who performs mighty and formidable deeds with ease. Another epithet used for him is Vrikodara. The word literally means “one whose stomach holds the fire called Vrika.” Bhima was famous for his tremendous physical strength, his rigorous exercise, and also his enormous appetite, hence the apt name Vrikodara. Bhima sounded his great conch called Paundra, worthy of his mighty stature.

Thus, when Bhagavān Krishna, Arjuna, and Bhima blew their conches, the other sons of Pandu and the entire Pandava army also joined in, sounding their own conches in unison.

In this verse, in the very presence of Dhritarashtra, Sanjaya addressed Yudhishthira as Rājā (King). Just as he had earlier used the title Rājā for Duryodhana, in the second shloka, in the same way, he now applied the same word to Yudhishthira.

In truth, the rightful claim to the throne belongs to Yudhishthira. Even if the kingdom was not physically in his hands at that moment, he was still the true king by right. That is why Sanjaya said that King Yudhishthira blew his conch named Ananta-vijaya.

Nakul then blew his conch named Sughoṣha, and Sahadeva blew his conch named Maṇipuṣhpaka.

At this point, a natural question arises in our minds: What is the significance of knowing the names of all these conches? The answer lies in understanding the atmosphere of the battlefield. The Mahabharata is here describing the intense scene where all the warriors, on every side, are declaring their readiness for war. Each one sounds his conch as a mark of preparation and determination.

Arjuna has blown his conch. Yudhishthira, Nakul, and Sahadeva have blown theirs. In the same way, all the others too sounded their conches. The meaning is clear - everyone has come to the battlefield fully prepared to fight.

Alongside him was the great warrior (mahā-rathaḥ) śhikhaṇḍī, as well as Drupada’s son Dhṛiṣhṭadyumna, the brother of Draupadi. Also present was King Virāta, in whose court the Pandavas had once sought refuge during their exile in disguise.

Then there was Sātyaki, who was described as chāparājitaḥ - the one who is never defeated. It is noteworthy that Sātyaki was in fact a disciple of Arjuna himself.

All of these warriors, mighty and renowned, blew their respective conches, filling the battlefield with their resounding calls. King Drupada, the father of Draupadi, along with her five sons, all sounded their conches. So too did Abhimanyu, the valiant son of Subhadra. Because of his great strength and prowess in battle, he is given the title mahā-bāhuḥ, the one with mighty arms.

In this way, all these noble warriors blew their conches, each distinct and powerful, declaring that the Pāṇḍavas were fully prepared for war. 

Sanjaya goes on to describe to Dhritarashtra what the effect of that terrifying sound was.

Sanjaya told Dhritarashtra that such was the terrifying sound of the war conches on the battlefield that it seemed as though both the heavens and the earth were completely filled with that echo. For the sound of these conches, a special expression is used: tumulo abhyanunādayan - a tumultuous, thunderous, and terrifying roar. 

He further added that the sound was so overwhelming that the heavens and the earth themselves seemed to reverberate and tremble, filled entirely with its echo; and this very sound pierced the hearts (hṛidayāni) of the sons of Dhritarashtra (dhārtarāṣhṭrāṇāṁ), shattering their courage (vyadārayat) and filling them with fear.

The very purpose of the war conch is to inspire courage and enthusiasm among warriors. For some, it awakens new energy. Those who stand on the side of truth feel their zeal for battle grow even stronger. But those who have come with false motives, with sinful thoughts, and who stand on the side of untruth, their minds remain restless and fearful.

Here Sanjaya appears as the very model of a true journalist. Even when reporting to his king, he does not mix truth with flattery in order to please him. He does not hesitate; he reports the facts exactly as they are. His words come from a pure and transparent heart.

By contrast, in ordinary times we often see many journalists shaping their reports according to what pleases the ruler or the government of the day. But a journalist must always remain impartial.

At the very end of the Bhagavad Gītā, Sanjaya himself declares the outcome of the war - who is destined to be victorious. He speaks this with a heart free of deceit, for Sanjaya is pure in spirit.

Sanjaya continued, describing to Dhritarashtra what happened next. He said, Arjuna, having lifted his bow and arrows in readiness for battle, spoke to Bhagavān Krishna. He addressed HIM as Mahī-pate - ‘King of the Earth', and requested HIM to place his chariot in between the two armies (senayor ubhayor madhye).

This was Arjuna’s request. In a battlefield, mighty warriors always take their stand at the very front. Those who are weak or fearful of death try to hide their chariots somewhere within the army’s formation. Arjuna was a maharathi, a supreme warrior. That is why he asked Achyuta to drive his chariot right to the middle, facing both armies.

This marks the very beginning of Arjuna’s dialogue in the Bhagavad Gītā. The Gītā is essentially a conversation between Arjuna and Bhagavān Krishna, and this is where the dialogue begins.

The word yāvat means “as long as” or “until.” Arjuna was essentially telling Bhagavān to take the chariot amidst the two armies - until he carefully observed the enemy’s army and determined with whom he must fight.

This was a dharmayuddha - a righteous war. No one fought without cause, and the war was governed by rules. In battle, the expectation is that a warrior should face an equal - chariot-warrior against chariot-warrior, great warrior against great warrior. Strength must be matched with strength. That is the rightful way of war. It was not permitted for one sitting in a chariot to strike down anyone at random. Nevertheless, the Mahābhārata war saw many violations of these rules, such as the killing of Abhimanyu in the cakravyūha, where many warriors together fought against one lone youth, a blatant breach of the code.

Arjuna was determined to fight only in accordance with the rules. Hence, he said that he must carefully see who exactly stood against him in battle. There is also a deeper meaning here: Arjuna was the foremost of warriors, unmatched by any other. Yet even so, this great war was being waged. Therefore, he wished to see for himself who was to be his opponent and to be assured of the reality before him.

Arjuna said that he wished to observe (Nirīkṣye aham - I desire to observe) all those who, motivated by the desire for war, had assembled in the enemy’s ranks to fight for the sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra and for Duryodhana’s victory.

As we noted earlier, Duryodhana had a talent for winning people over to his side. By his diplomacy and alliances, he had drawn many rulers to strengthen his forces. Those driven by selfish motives gather quickly, and Duryodhana’s camp became a haven for such alliances. Some great warriors, like Droṇācārya, had joined under compulsion (arthasya puruṣo dāsaḥ), bound by dependence on wealth and position. Others, like the grandsire Bhīṣma, had come to uphold their vows, for whom the principle “life may go, but a pledge must never be broken” was absolute.

Arjuna desired to observe all such warriors who had assembled for these reasons. Thus, he requested Bhagavān to place his chariot in the midst between the two armies.

Guḍākeśa is an adjective for Arjuna. Guḍa means sleep, and īśa means master. Thus, Guḍākeśa is “one who has mastered sleep or one who can sleep when he wishes and remain awake when he wishes. Just as control over the senses is essential, mastery over sleep is also important.

Arjuna had attained this through rigorous discipline and tireless effort. He had spent many nights awake, practicing archery in the darkness, training himself with utmost perseverance.

Hṛṣīkeśa means “the master of the senses.” Interestingly here, the master of sleep (Arjuna) is addressing the master of the senses (Śrī Kṛṣṇa).

Sanjaya told Dhritrashtra that in response, Hṛṣīkeśa positioned Arjuna’s chariot in the midst of the two armies.

According to Arjuna’s request, Śrī Kṛṣṇa placed his chariot in the middle of the two armies. 

Here it is important to note the precise spot where Bhagavān stationed it. HE deliberately positioned Arjuna’s chariot right before the great warriors of the Kaurava army - before Grandsire Bhīṣma, Ācārya Droṇa, and the many other mighty fighters (mahī-kṣhitām) who stood prepared for battle.

Then, turning to Arjuna, HE spoke a single word: “Paśya - Behold.”

In the first chapter of the Gītā, this is the only utterance of Śrī Kṛṣṇa. Yet in that one word, he accomplished all that was necessary. Now let us see who it was that appeared before Arjuna’s eyes on the battlefield.

In both armies, some were fathers-in-law (śhvaśhurān), others sons-in-law, some were well-wishers (suhṛida) and some friends (sakhīṁ).

Beholding his own relatives and dear ones ready to fight against him, Arjuna was overcome with sorrow (paryākṛpayā āviṣṭaḥ). A deep sense of compassion arose in his heart toward all the warriors assembled, and because of that compassion he sank into grief. As this feeling of sorrow welled up, the spirit of valour within him slipped away, leaving him faint and powerless.

He then said to Bhagavān that on seeing his own kinsmen and companions, eager for battle, his strength diminished, and he felt weak.

At this moment, a clear change is seen in Arjuna’s mental state. His heart, filled with deep compassion, became overwhelmed with grief. The word viṣāda refers precisely to such a condition of sorrow and dejection.

When we hear of the death of an acquaintance, we feel sadness. If the deceased is a close relative, the sorrow is even greater. But when the loss is of someone deeply beloved, the news of their death plunges a person into such grief that he may even forget his duties, losing all awareness of himself. This state of profound despondency is called viṣāda. That is why this chapter is named Arjuna-viṣāda-yoga - The Yoga of Arjuna’s Despondency.

Arjuna, stricken with grief, was shaken and sorrowful. Yet it is often in moments of deepest pain that the remembrance of the Bhagavān arises. The word yoga means “union” or “connection.” Thus, through his despondency, Arjuna was in fact drawn nearer to HIM. His sorrow itself became a form of yoga, the very cause that brought him to receive the profound teachings from Śrī Bhagavān.

Sañjaya said to Dhṛtarāṣṭra that Arjuna, overcome with grief, spoke the following words.

Arjuna said that on seeing his own kinsmen (imam svajanam dṛṣṭvā) assembled in the battlefield, eager to fight (yuyutsum samupasthitam), his condition had changed. He described his state by saying that his limbs fail him (sīdanti mama gātrāṇi); his mouth has become dry (mukhaṁ pariśhuṣhyati); his throat is parched; his body trembles (vepathuh); and, horripilation (śharīre roma-harṣhaśh) - (the hair standing on end) had seized him. Overcome with fear and grief, his body had grown stiff.

What a strange state this is for such a warrior! Arjuna, who had come fully prepared for battle, who had never been defeated, how could he suddenly fall into such weakness? Saint Dnyāneshwar recalls how even Bhagavān śiva tested Arjuna once by engaging him in battle. There too, Arjuna emerged victorious. And that very Arjuna now found himself completely overcome. He explained how he could have reached that state of despair with a beautiful analogy. 

तेथ मनीं गजबज जाहली । आणि आपैसी कृपा आली ।तेणें अपमानें निघाली । वीरवृत्ति ॥ 185 ॥
जिया उत्तम कुळींचिया होती । आणि गुणलावण्य आथी ।तिया आणिकींते न साहति । सुतेजपणें ॥ 186॥

Imagine a man who has a noble wife, refined and virtuous. If that man brings another woman into the house, the wife cannot endure it. She feels deeply dishonoured, and in that very moment her dignity deserts her.

In the same way, Arjuna’s innate nature was one of heroic valour.

He grew up embodying the essence of a warrior. But as soon as compassion entered his heart, valour refused to remain. Heroism cannot dwell alongside compassion. It feels dishonoured and departed. 

Arjuna had not deliberately invited compassion; it surged naturally upon seeing his own kith and kin before him. Heroism does not dwell alongside such compassion; thus, when compassion filled him, his heroic spirit departed. Under the weight of this compassion, Arjuna’s limbs weakened, and his whole being seemed to collapse.

Arjuna further added, his bow, the Gāṇḍīva, is slipping from his hands (gāṇḍīvaṁ sraṁsate hastā); he is unable even to hold it. His skin burnt all over (tvak paridahyate), and he found it difficult to stand steady any longer (śhaknomy avasthātuṁ), as his mind was in a quandary and whirling in confusion (bhramatīva manaḥ).

Imagine such a supreme archer, the one who never let the Gāṇḍīva leave his grip, now said, he could not even hold his bow. Seeing his own kinsmen standing before him, Arjuna’s state changes in an instant. His heart was overwhelmed with compassion, and his mind was in confusion.

Such situations sometimes arise in our own lives as well, when the mind becomes clouded and we feel utterly weak and helpless.

Dnyāneshwar Maharaj gives a wonderful description of Arjuna, reminding us of his stupendous valour - 

ज्याने संग्रामि हर जिंकला। निवास कवट्यांचा संहार केला।
तोही अर्जुन मोहे ग्रासला। क्षणामध्ये।।

“The one who defeated even Bhagavān śiva in battle, who destroyed mighty demons - that very Arjuna, within a single moment, was overcome by delusion.”

Such was Arjuna’s greatness. And yet here, he was overcome by attachment to his own people, his near and dear ones. In this delusion, Arjuna even forgot his true nature, his heroic spirit.

To explain this, Dnyāneshwar Maharaj offered an exquisite image:

जैसा भ्रमर भेदि कोडे। हवे ते काष्ट कोरडे।
परी तोही सापडे। कोवळ्या कलिकेत।।

A bumblebee is so powerful that it can bore holes into dry wood. But when it is drawn to the sweet nectar of a lotus flower, it becomes completely enchanted. At sunset, when the lotus closes its petals, that powerful bee gets trapped inside. Though it has the strength to pierce hardwood, it will not cut through the delicate lotus petals because it is intoxicated by the fragrance and sweetness.

So strong is its infatuation that it would rather die inside than break free.

This is the nature of delusion. And this is exactly what happened to Arjuna. The mighty warrior, the unrivalled archer, became bound by attachment. As soon as compassion entered his heart, his heroic spirit abandoned him. He forgot his true nature. His body trembled, his bow slipped, his strength failed.

Now, in the next session, we shall see what further words Arjuna speaks to the Bhagavān. For now, let us pause and reflect upon the transformation that has come over Arjuna! From what he was when he arrived on the battlefield to what he has now become. 

Thus, with this, today’s discourse concluded by offering it to Gurudev's feet.

Answer: The Mahabharata war was a Dharma Yuddha - a righteous war. Even though the commander of the Pāṇḍavas’ army was Dhrishtadyumna, the kingship after victory was to be given to Yudhishthira, since he was the eldest and rightful heir. The Allied armies had joined the war to support this very cause.

Question: How did Sanjaya dare to call Duryodhana durbuddhe (evil-minded) in front of Dhritarashtra?
Answer: Sanjaya was a man of integrity. With the gift of divine vision, he had been appointed to report truthfully whatever was happening on the battlefield. He discharged this duty faithfully. In plain and fearless words, he narrated every event, every detail of the atmosphere, exactly as it was. The word durbuddhe was used by Arjuna while speaking of the unrighteous actions against Duryodhana. Sanjaya just repeated Arjuna’s words before Dhritarashtra, without alteration. A true reporter must be as fearless and unbiased as Sanjaya. In fact, journalists, often referred to as the “fifth pillar” of democracy, have a significant role in society. Unfortunately, many today have compromised integrity. If they follow the example of Sanjaya, the country will progress much further.

Vidyasagar Ji

Question: Is it right or wrong to recite hymns like Kanakadhara Stotra for fulfilling material desires?
Answer: Reciting hymns even with material desires (sākām bhakti) is not wrong. Especially for householders, such worship is quite natural. For example, chanting the Kanakadhara Stotra for financial prosperity is acceptable. When these hymns are recited with correct pronunciation, they bring benefit. If a householder chants the Lakshmi Stotra for the continuous blessings of Goddess Lakshmi, it is surely beneficial. There is nothing wrong with worshipping Mata Lakshmi or Mata Saraswati while fulfilling household duties. 

However, if one tries to gain wealth through unrighteous means or by misuse of power, then such worship becomes meaningless. Dharma also means duty. Worship done with the foundation of dharma bears fruit, while superficial worship does not. The worship of the Bhagavad Gita is especially fruitful, since it aims at moksha (liberation)—the highest goal beyond dharma, artha, and kama.

Question: From whom did Arjuna receive divine weapons?
Answer: Through rigorous penance, effort, and constant practice, Arjuna received divine weapons from many deities—Indra, Agni, and Bhagavān Shiva, among others. His example shows that students, too, should learn the value of hard work. In fact, tapasya (penance) here means dedicated study. For students, study itself is the greatest tapasya.

Priyanka Ji

Question: Is it necessary to always take the side of truth?
Answer: Yes, one must always side with the truth. Sanatana Dharma teaches: Satyam bruyat, priyam bruyat - speak the truth, but do it pleasantly. Do not speak falsehood to appease someone.

In history, Shivaji Maharaj sometimes had to resort to words that were not literally true, but were from the presence of mind. For example, before meeting Afzal Khan, Shivaji Maharaj praised him and said, “We are afraid of you.” In reality, this was not true, but it was necessary for the situation. Such discretion comes from awakened intelligence (viveka). Similarly, Krishna awakened Arjuna’s viveka buddhi through the teachings of the Gītā.

Prakash Ji

Question: Why was the Bhagavad Gītā told only to Arjuna? Why not to Yudhishthira, who was known for his righteousness?
Answer: The bond between Krishna and Arjuna was very unique. They were related, but more than that, they were close friends. HE would often call Arjuna Anagha (sinless one). Among all the Pandavas, Bhagavān had special affection for Arjuna. Just as we share our deepest thoughts only with those closest to us, HE chose Arjuna to impart the Gita. In truth, if we purify our hearts, the Gita can become our guide too.

The session concluded after the closing prayer.