विवेचन सारांश
Ātma-Saṁyama Yoga – The Yoga of self-control - Preparing the Mind for Yoga
This important adhyay is called ātma-saṁyamayoga. Gurudev says that one is not able to apply the teachings of Bhagavad Gitā in one's life till this adhyāya is completely understood. The name of this adhyāya indicates how one can discipline one's mind and senses. It explains the guiding principles of self-control.
Bowing down in deep respect and humility to Gurudev. Offering countless salutations at the holy feet of the Divine Mother Saraswati. Seeking blessings from Jñāneśvar Mahārāj.
Bowing down in deep respect and humility to Gurudev. Offering countless salutations at the holy feet of the Divine Mother Saraswati. Seeking blessings from Jñāneśvar Mahārāj.
गुरुर्ब्रह्मा गुरुर्विष्णुः गुरुर्देवो महेश्वरः।
गुरुः साक्षात् परब्रह्म तस्मै श्रीगुरवे नमः॥
गुरुः साक्षात् परब्रह्म तस्मै श्रीगुरवे नमः॥
Gurur Brahmā Gurur Viṣhṇuḥ Gurur Devo Maheśhvaraḥ |
Guruh Sākṣhāt Parabrahma Tasmai Śhrīgurave Namaḥ ||
Guruh Sākṣhāt Parabrahma Tasmai Śhrīgurave Namaḥ ||
नमामि सद्गुरुं शान्तं सच्चिदानन्दविग्रहम्।
पूर्णब्रह्मपरानन्दम् ईशमाळन्दिवल्लभम्॥
पूर्णब्रह्मपरानन्दम् ईशमाळन्दिवल्लभम्॥
Namāmi Sadguruṃ Śhāntaṃ Saccidānandavigraham |
Pūrṇabrahmaparānandam Īśhamāḷandivallabham ||
Pūrṇabrahmaparānandam Īśhamāḷandivallabham ||
यानंद श्रुतिमंत्र शक्ति महती ब्रह्मात्म विद्यावती
यासूत्रोदित शास्त्रपद्धतिरीति प्रद्योदिनान्तरद्युतिः।
या सत्काव्यगतिप्रसादितर्मतिर्नानागुणालंकृति:
सा प्रत्यक्ष सरस्वती भगवती मान्त्रायतां भारती॥
यासूत्रोदित शास्त्रपद्धतिरीति प्रद्योदिनान्तरद्युतिः।
या सत्काव्यगतिप्रसादितर्मतिर्नानागुणालंकृति:
सा प्रत्यक्ष सरस्वती भगवती मान्त्रायतां भारती॥
Yānanda Śhrutimāntra Śhakti Mahatī Brahmātma Vidyāvati
Yāsūtrodita Śhāstrapaddhatīriti Pradyodināntaradyutiḥ |
Yā Satkāvyagati Prasāditarmatiḥ Nanāguṇālaṅkṛitiḥ |
Sā Pratyakṣa Sarasvatī Bhagavatī Māntrāyatāṃ Bhāratī ||
Yāsūtrodita Śhāstrapaddhatīriti Pradyodināntaradyutiḥ |
Yā Satkāvyagati Prasāditarmatiḥ Nanāguṇālaṅkṛitiḥ |
Sā Pratyakṣa Sarasvatī Bhagavatī Māntrāyatāṃ Bhāratī ||
ॐ पार्थाय प्रतिबोधितां भगवता नारायणेन स्वयम्
व्यासेन ग्रथितां पुराणमुनिना मध्ये महाभारतम्।
अद्वैतामृतवर्षिणीं भगवतीमष्टादशाध्यायिनीम्
अम्ब त्वामनुसन्दधामि भगवद्गीते भवद्वेषिणीम्॥
व्यासेन ग्रथितां पुराणमुनिना मध्ये महाभारतम्।
अद्वैतामृतवर्षिणीं भगवतीमष्टादशाध्यायिनीम्
अम्ब त्वामनुसन्दधामि भगवद्गीते भवद्वेषिणीम्॥
Om Pārthāya Pratibodhitāṃ Bhagavatā Nārāyaṇena Svayam |
Vyāsena Grathitāṃ Purāṇamuninā Madhye Mahābhāratam l
Advaitāmṛtavarṣiṇīṃ Bhagavatīm aṣṭādaśādhyāyinīm |
Amba Tvām Anusandadhāmi Bhagavad-Gīte Bhavadveṣiṇīṃ ||
Vyāsena Grathitāṃ Purāṇamuninā Madhye Mahābhāratam l
Advaitāmṛtavarṣiṇīṃ Bhagavatīm aṣṭādaśādhyāyinīm |
Amba Tvām Anusandadhāmi Bhagavad-Gīte Bhavadveṣiṇīṃ ||
नमोस्तुते व्यास विशाल बुद्धे फुल्लारविन्दायतपत्रनेत्र।
येन त्वया भारत तैलपूर्णः प्रज्वालितो ज्ञानमय प्रदीपः॥
येन त्वया भारत तैलपूर्णः प्रज्वालितो ज्ञानमय प्रदीपः॥
Namostute Vyāsa Viśhāla Buddhe Phullāravinda Yatpatra Netra |
Yena Tvayā Bhārata Tailapūrṇaḥ Prajvālito Jñānamaya Pradīpaḥ ||
Human life is full of struggles and conflicts. The external and internal situations keep influencing the inner instrument of mind, intellect, memory, and ego. The question is how to control or regulate them? This adhyāya gives the guiding principles or maxims to do so. One who can control ones-self is able to control the external situation. Jñāneśvar Mahārāj calls this Brahma-rasa (divine nectar of the Absolute). This Brahma-rasa is available to those who are seeking in line with Arjun.
Yena Tvayā Bhārata Tailapūrṇaḥ Prajvālito Jñānamaya Pradīpaḥ ||
Human life is full of struggles and conflicts. The external and internal situations keep influencing the inner instrument of mind, intellect, memory, and ego. The question is how to control or regulate them? This adhyāya gives the guiding principles or maxims to do so. One who can control ones-self is able to control the external situation. Jñāneśvar Mahārāj calls this Brahma-rasa (divine nectar of the Absolute). This Brahma-rasa is available to those who are seeking in line with Arjun.
सहजें ब्रह्मरसाचें पारणें । केलें अर्जुनालागीं नारायणें ।
कीं तेचि अवसरीं पाहुणे । पातलों आम्ही ॥६-२॥
(O Narayana, as an occasion arose, we became your guests and partook of the divine bliss of Brahman).
Jñāneśvar Mahārāj illustrates this beautifully, describing Bhagavān as organizing a feast to distribute Brahma-rasa (the nectar of Brahman) and Arjuna arriving there to partake of it. His reaching the feast itself was his good fortune. This feast was primarily meant for Arjuna, but all those present with Arjuna would also benefit from this nectar.
On the battlefield Arjuna is asking Bhagavān, "On the one hand your are singing praises of Ātma-jñāna (realization of one’s true nature beyond body and mind) and jñāna, then you tell the significance of sanyas (renunciation) and Karma, yet you are telling me to fight this cruel war?" This question Arjun has repeated in the third and fifth adhyāya. Arjun is confused about what is right for him - whether he should give up all karma of fighting the war and walk on the path of jñāna.
Arjuna's question in the fifth adhyāya is:
Jñāneśvar Mahārāj illustrates this beautifully, describing Bhagavān as organizing a feast to distribute Brahma-rasa (the nectar of Brahman) and Arjuna arriving there to partake of it. His reaching the feast itself was his good fortune. This feast was primarily meant for Arjuna, but all those present with Arjuna would also benefit from this nectar.
On the battlefield Arjuna is asking Bhagavān, "On the one hand your are singing praises of Ātma-jñāna (realization of one’s true nature beyond body and mind) and jñāna, then you tell the significance of sanyas (renunciation) and Karma, yet you are telling me to fight this cruel war?" This question Arjun has repeated in the third and fifth adhyāya. Arjun is confused about what is right for him - whether he should give up all karma of fighting the war and walk on the path of jñāna.
Arjuna's question in the fifth adhyāya is:
संन्यासं कर्मणां कृष्ण पुनर्योगं च शंससि ।
यच्छ्रेय एतयोरेकं तन्मे ब्रूहि सुनिश्चितम् ॥ ५.१ ॥
यच्छ्रेय एतयोरेकं तन्मे ब्रूहि सुनिश्चितम् ॥ ५.१ ॥
sannyāsaṁ karmaṇāṁ kṛṣṇa punar yogaṁ ca śaṁsasi |
yac chreya etayor ekaṁ tan me brūhi su-niścitam || 5.1 ||
“O Krishna, you praise the renunciation of actions (sannyāsa) and also the path of yoga (selfless action). Tell me clearly and decisively which one of these is better for my highest good.”
Here, in the sixth adhyāya Bhagavān elaborates that both the paths lead to the same destination.
In the fifth adhyāya Bhagavān has detailed about Prāṇāyāma (Breath control). HE explains how life force (prāṇa) can be regulated through breathing techniques. Prāṇāyāma controls the manaḥ (mind) by connecting it with the air thereby adopting it's qualities of being Vyāpak (widespread), Vishāl (immense).
The viśeṣatā (speciality) of the Bhagavad Gītā is that it explains the sarvoparī siddhānta (supreme principles), as well as the qualities of a sthita-prajña, a guṇātīta, and a jñānī. Arjuna, being a narottama (the noblest among men), is taught all these by Bhagavān. However, later in this adhyāya, He also explains what an ordinary person should do.
yac chreya etayor ekaṁ tan me brūhi su-niścitam || 5.1 ||
“O Krishna, you praise the renunciation of actions (sannyāsa) and also the path of yoga (selfless action). Tell me clearly and decisively which one of these is better for my highest good.”
Here, in the sixth adhyāya Bhagavān elaborates that both the paths lead to the same destination.
In the fifth adhyāya Bhagavān has detailed about Prāṇāyāma (Breath control). HE explains how life force (prāṇa) can be regulated through breathing techniques. Prāṇāyāma controls the manaḥ (mind) by connecting it with the air thereby adopting it's qualities of being Vyāpak (widespread), Vishāl (immense).
The viśeṣatā (speciality) of the Bhagavad Gītā is that it explains the sarvoparī siddhānta (supreme principles), as well as the qualities of a sthita-prajña, a guṇātīta, and a jñānī. Arjuna, being a narottama (the noblest among men), is taught all these by Bhagavān. However, later in this adhyāya, He also explains what an ordinary person should do.
स्पर्शान् कृत्वा बहिर्बाह्यांश्चक्षुश्चैवान्तरे भ्रुवोः ।
प्राणापानौ समौ कृत्वा नासाभ्यन्तरचारिणौ ॥ ५.२७ ॥
प्राणापानौ समौ कृत्वा नासाभ्यन्तरचारिणौ ॥ ५.२७ ॥
sparśān kṛtvā bahir bāhyāṁś cakṣuś caivāntare bhruvoḥ |
prāṇāpānau samau kṛtvā nāsābhyantara-cāriṇau || 5.27 ||
“Shutting out all external sense objects, fixing the gaze between the eyebrows, and equalizing the inward and outward moving breaths (prāṇa and apāna) within the nostrils…”
Bhagavān says one who practices this moves ahead and ultimately achieves control over self and external situations and reaches his destination.
prāṇāpānau samau kṛtvā nāsābhyantara-cāriṇau || 5.27 ||
“Shutting out all external sense objects, fixing the gaze between the eyebrows, and equalizing the inward and outward moving breaths (prāṇa and apāna) within the nostrils…”
Bhagavān says one who practices this moves ahead and ultimately achieves control over self and external situations and reaches his destination.
6.1
anāśritaḥ(kh) karmaphalaṃ(ṅ), kāryaṃ(ṅ) karma karoti yaḥ,
sa sannyāsī ca yogī ca, na niragnirna cākriyaḥ. 6.1
Śrī Bhagavān said :He who does his duty without expecting the fruit of action is Sannyāsī (Sāṅkhyayogī) and Yogī (Karmayogī) both. He is no Sannyāsī (renouncer) who has simply renounced the sacred fire; even so, he is no Yogī who has given up all activity.
One who performs actions without expectations is called anāśrita (one who does not depend on the fruits of action). This world is a karma-bhūmi (field of action), where no one can live without performing karma.
As Bhagavān says, “na hi kaścit kṣaṇam api jātu tiṣṭhaty akarma-kṛt” (no one can remain even for a moment without action), and “śarīra-yātrā ’pi ca te na prasiddhyed akarmaṇaḥ” (even the maintenance of the body would not be possible without action).
One who abandons action, thinking oneself to be akarmaṇi (inactive or giving up action), cannot even sustain one’s bodily existence. On the other hand, one who continues to act but constantly thinks, “Since this action has been done, its fruit must come to me,” remains bound by expectation.
If karma is action, its fruit is the reaction; every action does indeed produce a result. However, one should not perform action with the mind fixed on the result. Instead, one should understand that life itself is the fruit, and act in a spirit of duty and offering.
One who acts without attachment to the fruits is described as anāśrita-karma-phalam (one who does not depend on the results of action). When a person is free from expectations, the journey of action (karma-yātrā) becomes sahaja (natural) and ānandamayī (joyful).
Bhagavān explains that action performed in this spirit is kāryaṁ karma (duty-bound action, that which ought to be done). Just as kāryaṁ peya-jalam means water that is fit to be drunk, similarly karma is that which is fit to be done—sat-kṛtam (rightly and nobly performed) and directed toward sarva-kalyāṇa (the welfare of all).
One who constantly performs action with this understanding remains steady, fulfilled, and free from bondage. Bhagavān says that such a person is both a sannyāsī (one who has renounced attachment) and a yogī (one who is united and disciplined). He is also a karma-yogī (one who performs action selflessly, without dependence on its fruits).
One who merely stops performing action is not a sannyāsī. Bhagavān says: “na niragnir na cākriyaḥ” (neither one who has renounced the sacred fire nor one who has given up action is a true renunciate).
Traditionally, it is said that one who formally takes sannyāsa (vidhivat—according to prescribed rites), wears geru (ochre robes), and adopts the external marks of renunciation, may give up activities such as cooking and even touching fire. However, Bhagavān makes it clear to Arjuna that the true sannyāsī is one who does not take āśraya (dependence) on the phala (fruits) of kartavya karma (duty-bound action). One who is not concerned with the results of action is both a sannyāsī and a yogī.
It is important to understand that merely wearing certain clothes does not make one a sannyāsī. Sannyāsa is not bahiraṅga (external); it is an antaraṅga sthiti (inner state of being).
The antaraṅga sthiti (inner state) of a sannyāsī has to be properly understood. First, the meaning of the word sannyāsa: samyak-nyāsa—nyāsa means “to lay down or renounce,” and samyak means “rightly or completely.” Thus, samyak-nyāsa is right understanding of what is to be let go and what is not.
Bhagavān’s teaching is subtle: it is not merely about “giving up” (choḍnā), but about “dropping away naturally” (chūṭ jānā).
Consider an example. When a raw mango is plucked from a tree, effort is required, and sap oozes out. But when a mango is ripe, it falls on its own. It leaves the branch naturally; it does not need to be forcibly removed.
In the same way, a person who is paripakva (spiritually mature) does not struggle to renounce the world (saṁsāra). The saṁsāra simply falls away (saṁsāra chūṭ jātā hai) because he has discovered ānanda (inner bliss) in his own antaraṅga rasa (inner essence). He no longer feels the need to seek the rasa (pleasure) of the bahiraṅga saṁsāra (external world).
Such a person becomes naturally detached from the world and deeply attached to the Self, becoming ekākāra (one) with the ātma-tattva (principle of the Self). This is ātma-jñāna (Self-realization).
Bhagavān’s above explanation shows why this adhyāya is called Ātma-saṁyama-yoga (the Yoga of self-restraint or self-mastery).
Just as the river Gaṅgā flows with the purpose of reaching the ocean, it moves within the boundaries of its two banks. If those banks are removed, the water would spread in all directions and lose its course. In the same way, saṁyama (self-restraint, discipline) acts as the guiding boundary in life. The niyama (self-imposed disciplines) that one follows help one reach the final goal (gantavya).
That is why the term Ātma-saṁyama-yoga used—the path of mastering oneself. Whether a student, a scientist, or a sportsperson, anyone who seeks success must become saṁyamita (self-controlled), santulita (balanced), and inwardly steady. The manaḥ (mind) must be śānta (calm), the buddhi (intellect) santulita (balanced), and the indriyāḥ (senses) saṁyamita (controlled).
For example, during examinations, a student has to exercise niyantraṇa (control) over the indriyāḥ (senses). This may mean avoiding distractions such as watching television, excessive chatting with friends, or spending time on WhatsApp, and instead focusing on studies. Such discipline becomes possible only when the student binds himself with certain niyamas (self-imposed rules or regulations).
When the word ātma-saṁyama is used, the term ātman (Self) is understood at multiple levels in Sanskrit. It can refer to:
1. Śarīra (body)
2. Manaḥ (mind)
3. Buddhi (intellect)
4. Ātma-tattva (the true Self)
Human life operates across all these levels—śarīra, manaḥ, indriyāḥ (senses), and buddhi. One thinks through the manaḥ, described as “saṅkalpa-vikalpātmakaṁ manaḥ” (the mind is that which entertains options and doubts). Decisions are made by the buddhi, which is nirṇayātmikā buddhiḥ (the faculty of decisive determination).
Since life functions on so many stara (levels), it becomes necessary to keep it saṁyamita (disciplined) and santulita (balanced), with the manaḥ remaining śānta (calm). A calm mind supports clear and correct decision-making. When one takes the right decisions at the right time, the likelihood of reaching one’s goal (gantavya) increases. Therefore, this adhyāya is important, as it shows the path and provides patheya (guidance or nourishment for the journey).
As Bhagavān says, “na hi kaścit kṣaṇam api jātu tiṣṭhaty akarma-kṛt” (no one can remain even for a moment without action), and “śarīra-yātrā ’pi ca te na prasiddhyed akarmaṇaḥ” (even the maintenance of the body would not be possible without action).
One who abandons action, thinking oneself to be akarmaṇi (inactive or giving up action), cannot even sustain one’s bodily existence. On the other hand, one who continues to act but constantly thinks, “Since this action has been done, its fruit must come to me,” remains bound by expectation.
If karma is action, its fruit is the reaction; every action does indeed produce a result. However, one should not perform action with the mind fixed on the result. Instead, one should understand that life itself is the fruit, and act in a spirit of duty and offering.
One who acts without attachment to the fruits is described as anāśrita-karma-phalam (one who does not depend on the results of action). When a person is free from expectations, the journey of action (karma-yātrā) becomes sahaja (natural) and ānandamayī (joyful).
Bhagavān explains that action performed in this spirit is kāryaṁ karma (duty-bound action, that which ought to be done). Just as kāryaṁ peya-jalam means water that is fit to be drunk, similarly karma is that which is fit to be done—sat-kṛtam (rightly and nobly performed) and directed toward sarva-kalyāṇa (the welfare of all).
One who constantly performs action with this understanding remains steady, fulfilled, and free from bondage. Bhagavān says that such a person is both a sannyāsī (one who has renounced attachment) and a yogī (one who is united and disciplined). He is also a karma-yogī (one who performs action selflessly, without dependence on its fruits).
One who merely stops performing action is not a sannyāsī. Bhagavān says: “na niragnir na cākriyaḥ” (neither one who has renounced the sacred fire nor one who has given up action is a true renunciate).
Traditionally, it is said that one who formally takes sannyāsa (vidhivat—according to prescribed rites), wears geru (ochre robes), and adopts the external marks of renunciation, may give up activities such as cooking and even touching fire. However, Bhagavān makes it clear to Arjuna that the true sannyāsī is one who does not take āśraya (dependence) on the phala (fruits) of kartavya karma (duty-bound action). One who is not concerned with the results of action is both a sannyāsī and a yogī.
It is important to understand that merely wearing certain clothes does not make one a sannyāsī. Sannyāsa is not bahiraṅga (external); it is an antaraṅga sthiti (inner state of being).
The antaraṅga sthiti (inner state) of a sannyāsī has to be properly understood. First, the meaning of the word sannyāsa: samyak-nyāsa—nyāsa means “to lay down or renounce,” and samyak means “rightly or completely.” Thus, samyak-nyāsa is right understanding of what is to be let go and what is not.
Bhagavān’s teaching is subtle: it is not merely about “giving up” (choḍnā), but about “dropping away naturally” (chūṭ jānā).
Consider an example. When a raw mango is plucked from a tree, effort is required, and sap oozes out. But when a mango is ripe, it falls on its own. It leaves the branch naturally; it does not need to be forcibly removed.
In the same way, a person who is paripakva (spiritually mature) does not struggle to renounce the world (saṁsāra). The saṁsāra simply falls away (saṁsāra chūṭ jātā hai) because he has discovered ānanda (inner bliss) in his own antaraṅga rasa (inner essence). He no longer feels the need to seek the rasa (pleasure) of the bahiraṅga saṁsāra (external world).
Such a person becomes naturally detached from the world and deeply attached to the Self, becoming ekākāra (one) with the ātma-tattva (principle of the Self). This is ātma-jñāna (Self-realization).
Bhagavān’s above explanation shows why this adhyāya is called Ātma-saṁyama-yoga (the Yoga of self-restraint or self-mastery).
Just as the river Gaṅgā flows with the purpose of reaching the ocean, it moves within the boundaries of its two banks. If those banks are removed, the water would spread in all directions and lose its course. In the same way, saṁyama (self-restraint, discipline) acts as the guiding boundary in life. The niyama (self-imposed disciplines) that one follows help one reach the final goal (gantavya).
That is why the term Ātma-saṁyama-yoga used—the path of mastering oneself. Whether a student, a scientist, or a sportsperson, anyone who seeks success must become saṁyamita (self-controlled), santulita (balanced), and inwardly steady. The manaḥ (mind) must be śānta (calm), the buddhi (intellect) santulita (balanced), and the indriyāḥ (senses) saṁyamita (controlled).
For example, during examinations, a student has to exercise niyantraṇa (control) over the indriyāḥ (senses). This may mean avoiding distractions such as watching television, excessive chatting with friends, or spending time on WhatsApp, and instead focusing on studies. Such discipline becomes possible only when the student binds himself with certain niyamas (self-imposed rules or regulations).
When the word ātma-saṁyama is used, the term ātman (Self) is understood at multiple levels in Sanskrit. It can refer to:
1. Śarīra (body)
2. Manaḥ (mind)
3. Buddhi (intellect)
4. Ātma-tattva (the true Self)
Human life operates across all these levels—śarīra, manaḥ, indriyāḥ (senses), and buddhi. One thinks through the manaḥ, described as “saṅkalpa-vikalpātmakaṁ manaḥ” (the mind is that which entertains options and doubts). Decisions are made by the buddhi, which is nirṇayātmikā buddhiḥ (the faculty of decisive determination).
Since life functions on so many stara (levels), it becomes necessary to keep it saṁyamita (disciplined) and santulita (balanced), with the manaḥ remaining śānta (calm). A calm mind supports clear and correct decision-making. When one takes the right decisions at the right time, the likelihood of reaching one’s goal (gantavya) increases. Therefore, this adhyāya is important, as it shows the path and provides patheya (guidance or nourishment for the journey).
yaṃ(m) sannyāsamiti prāhuḥ(r), yogaṃ(n) taṃ viddhi pāṇḍava,
na hyasannyastasaṅkalpo, yogī bhavati kaścana. 6.2
Arjuna, you must know that what they call as Sannyāsa is no other than Yoga; for none becomes a Yogī who has not abandoned his 'Saṅkalpas' (thoughts of the world).
Bhagavān describes the yogī here as a karma-yogī—one who continues to perform kartavya karma (duty-bound action). Each person is born with a certain bhūmikā (role), and therefore performs kartavya-karma appropriate to that role, but without expectation of karma-phala (the fruits of action).
Whatever result comes is accepted with Īśvara-arpaṇa-buddhi (the attitude of offering everything to Parmātma) and received as prasāda (a gracious gift). This is karma-yoga.
With the understanding that one is acting within this sṛṣṭi (creation), and is connected through many births, one performs action in a spirit of offering and responsibility. One who acts with this attitude is truly a karma-yogī.
Bhagavān says to Arjuna:
“What is called sannyāsa (renunciation), know that to be yoga (the path of union), O Pāṇḍava. For no one who has not renounced saṅkalpa (self-centered desires or mental projections) can become a yogī.”
Just as one person may have two names, sannyāsa and yoga are two names pointing to the same goal; they are not two different destinations.
A karma-yogī continues to perform action, but is saṁnyasta-saṅkalpa (one who has renounced personal desires and expectations). One who has not given up saṅkalpa—the constant inner insistence on “this must happen for me”—cannot truly become a yogī.
The meaning of saṅkalpa is not limited to the formal saṅkalpa taken during a pūjā, nor to resolutions made at the beginning of a new year. Etymologically, saṅkalpa can be understood as “samyak kalpanā”—a well-formed idea or intention. It is the mental projection or inner formulation of “what I want.”
These saṅkalpas give rise to kāmanāḥ (desires). Later in this adhyāya, it is said: “saṅkalpa-prabhavān kāmān” (desires that arise from saṅkalpa). These are the impulses that pull a person outward toward the world (saṁsāra), especially when they are driven by svārtha (self-centeredness).
To achieve something higher in life, one has to let go of many smaller kāmanāḥ (desires). For example, Lata Mangeshkar once shared in an interview that her lifelong sādhanā (dedicated practice) involved strict vrata and niyama—such as waking up early, avoiding cold water, not eating ice cream or sour foods—so that her voice would remain pure and unaffected.
Similarly, Sachin Tendulkar, in his retirement interview, said that his life had a single focus—cricket. To achieve that goal, he followed strict discipline and self-imposed rules.
These examples show that when one refines and disciplines one’s saṅkalpa, letting go of lesser desires, one becomes capable of achieving higher goals.
As long as a person does not bring balance into life, follow niyama (discipline), and give up small, self-centered desires, it is difficult to attain a higher goal.
Chhatrapati Śivājī Mahārāj held a saṅkalpa of sṛṣṭi-kalyāṇa (the welfare of society). Likewise, many seekers undertake tapas (austerity) in life for the realization of Parama Parameśvara / Parabrahman (the Supreme Reality). Even in worldly contexts, such as during the COVID-19 outbreak, scientists had to set aside personal comforts and smaller desires to develop vaccines. It is through such discipline and sacrifice that life moves toward udātta vyāpakatā (nobility and expansiveness).
Bhagavān teaches that one who is unwilling to let go of lesser desires in order to move forward cannot truly be called a yogī.
Bhagavān further explains that there are two kinds of seekers: those who are still on the path and those who have reached the goal. Those who are progressing are called sādhaka (one who practices and walks the path). Those who have attained the goal are called siddha (the accomplished ones).
In this context, Bhagavān uses the terms ārurukṣu and yogārūḍha
Whatever result comes is accepted with Īśvara-arpaṇa-buddhi (the attitude of offering everything to Parmātma) and received as prasāda (a gracious gift). This is karma-yoga.
With the understanding that one is acting within this sṛṣṭi (creation), and is connected through many births, one performs action in a spirit of offering and responsibility. One who acts with this attitude is truly a karma-yogī.
Bhagavān says to Arjuna:
“What is called sannyāsa (renunciation), know that to be yoga (the path of union), O Pāṇḍava. For no one who has not renounced saṅkalpa (self-centered desires or mental projections) can become a yogī.”
Just as one person may have two names, sannyāsa and yoga are two names pointing to the same goal; they are not two different destinations.
A karma-yogī continues to perform action, but is saṁnyasta-saṅkalpa (one who has renounced personal desires and expectations). One who has not given up saṅkalpa—the constant inner insistence on “this must happen for me”—cannot truly become a yogī.
The meaning of saṅkalpa is not limited to the formal saṅkalpa taken during a pūjā, nor to resolutions made at the beginning of a new year. Etymologically, saṅkalpa can be understood as “samyak kalpanā”—a well-formed idea or intention. It is the mental projection or inner formulation of “what I want.”
These saṅkalpas give rise to kāmanāḥ (desires). Later in this adhyāya, it is said: “saṅkalpa-prabhavān kāmān” (desires that arise from saṅkalpa). These are the impulses that pull a person outward toward the world (saṁsāra), especially when they are driven by svārtha (self-centeredness).
To achieve something higher in life, one has to let go of many smaller kāmanāḥ (desires). For example, Lata Mangeshkar once shared in an interview that her lifelong sādhanā (dedicated practice) involved strict vrata and niyama—such as waking up early, avoiding cold water, not eating ice cream or sour foods—so that her voice would remain pure and unaffected.
Similarly, Sachin Tendulkar, in his retirement interview, said that his life had a single focus—cricket. To achieve that goal, he followed strict discipline and self-imposed rules.
These examples show that when one refines and disciplines one’s saṅkalpa, letting go of lesser desires, one becomes capable of achieving higher goals.
As long as a person does not bring balance into life, follow niyama (discipline), and give up small, self-centered desires, it is difficult to attain a higher goal.
Chhatrapati Śivājī Mahārāj held a saṅkalpa of sṛṣṭi-kalyāṇa (the welfare of society). Likewise, many seekers undertake tapas (austerity) in life for the realization of Parama Parameśvara / Parabrahman (the Supreme Reality). Even in worldly contexts, such as during the COVID-19 outbreak, scientists had to set aside personal comforts and smaller desires to develop vaccines. It is through such discipline and sacrifice that life moves toward udātta vyāpakatā (nobility and expansiveness).
Bhagavān teaches that one who is unwilling to let go of lesser desires in order to move forward cannot truly be called a yogī.
Bhagavān further explains that there are two kinds of seekers: those who are still on the path and those who have reached the goal. Those who are progressing are called sādhaka (one who practices and walks the path). Those who have attained the goal are called siddha (the accomplished ones).
In this context, Bhagavān uses the terms ārurukṣu and yogārūḍha
- ārurukṣu — one who desires to ascend in yoga, a beginner or striving seeker.
- yogārūḍha — one who is firmly established in yoga, having reached steadiness.
ārurukṣormuneryogaṃ(ṅ), karma kāraṇamucyate,
yogārūḍhasya tasyaiva, śamaḥ(kh) kāraṇamucyate. 6.3
To the contemplative soul who desires to attain Karmayoga, selfless action is said to be the means; for the same man when he is established in Yoga, absence of all 'Saṅkalpas' (thoughts of the world) is said to be the way to blessedness.
Bhagavān opens the path for the antaraṅga-yātrā (inner journey). A tīrtha-yātrā (pilgrimage) may bring puṇya (merit), but the inner journey brings śānti (peace), because one comes to know oneself.
Until one inquires, “Who am I?”, suffering does not end. In truth, one is a part of sat–cit–ānanda Parameśvara (the Supreme Reality of existence, consciousness, and bliss). Until this is realized, one does not attain the final goal—niḥśreyasa (the highest good, ultimate fulfillment). This is the purpose of human birth. Other forms of life are bhoga-yoni (meant mainly for experiencing results), whereas human life is yoga-yoni (fit for striving, growth, and realization).
Bhagavad Gītā helps one gradually move forward on this path. On the path of antara-yātrā, one discovers lasting peace and moves toward parama-nirvāṇa (supreme liberation).
Consider an example: if a train halts at an unknown station due to a breakdown, a passenger may feel anxious and lost. But someone who knows the station master remains at ease, knowing whom to approach. Similarly, a person working in a large organization who is in close touch with the managing director knows where to turn in times of difficulty. In the same way, if one deepens one’s paricaya (acquaintance) with the sṛṣṭi-kartā (Creator), the inner connection (antaraṅga-tāra) becomes strong. Then, amidst the rush and unrest of the world (saṁsāra), the manaḥ (mind) does not become vicalita (disturbed); it remains śānta (calm).
As one’s relationship with Parameśvara grows—from mere acquaintance to closeness, and then to a dear friend—the disturbances of the world lose their hold. And the one whose manaḥ śāntaṁ (mind is peaceful), his vijaya-ratha (chariot of life) surely reaches the ultimate destination.
Bhagavān indicates that this is precisely why sādhakas (seekers) set out on this path—to inquire into their true nature. They ask, “Who am I?” Ramaṇa Maharṣi taught: “ko ’ham?” (Who am I?)—one should engage in this inquiry alone.
"Am I the śarīra (body), the indriyāḥ (senses), the manaḥ (mind), or the buddhi (intellect)? Who is the one who says, “my hands, my legs, my intellect”? Who is the witness of the body’s changes—from bālya-avasthā (childhood) to yauvana-avasthā (youth) to jarā-avasthā (old age)? Who is that which observes all this with tatastha-bhāva (detached witnessing)?"
Patañjali Muni presents Aṣṭāṅga-yoga (the eightfold path) to help one recognize and realize the antar-ātman (inner Self):
1. Yama (ethical restraints)
2. Niyama (disciplines/observances)
3. Āsana (posture)
4. Prāṇāyāma (regulation of breath)
5. Pratyāhāra (withdrawal of the senses)
6. Dhāraṇā (concentration)
7. Dhyāna (meditation)
8. Samādhi (absorption)
The first five—yama, niyama, āsana, prāṇāyāma, pratyāhāra—help turn the senses inward, giving them a proper foundation and withdrawal from external objects. This preparatory discipline is often associated with haṭha-yoga, and it serves as the groundwork for the inner journey (antar-yātrā).
The last three—dhāraṇā, dhyāna, samādhi—are known as rāja-yoga (the royal path of inner mastery). This adhyāya of the Bhagavad Gītā elaborates on this inner discipline.
A sādhaka who begins to walk on the path of yoga is called ārurukṣu (one who seeks to ascend in yoga), as described by Bhagavān.
One who has just begun walking on this path is called an ārurukṣu (one who desires to ascend in yoga). Such a person longs to reach the ultimate goal, to attain parama-śānti (supreme peace), and to know one’s own true nature. Not knowing one’s real nature is ajñāna (ignorance).
Jñāneśvar Mahārāj says:
Until one inquires, “Who am I?”, suffering does not end. In truth, one is a part of sat–cit–ānanda Parameśvara (the Supreme Reality of existence, consciousness, and bliss). Until this is realized, one does not attain the final goal—niḥśreyasa (the highest good, ultimate fulfillment). This is the purpose of human birth. Other forms of life are bhoga-yoni (meant mainly for experiencing results), whereas human life is yoga-yoni (fit for striving, growth, and realization).
Bhagavad Gītā helps one gradually move forward on this path. On the path of antara-yātrā, one discovers lasting peace and moves toward parama-nirvāṇa (supreme liberation).
Consider an example: if a train halts at an unknown station due to a breakdown, a passenger may feel anxious and lost. But someone who knows the station master remains at ease, knowing whom to approach. Similarly, a person working in a large organization who is in close touch with the managing director knows where to turn in times of difficulty. In the same way, if one deepens one’s paricaya (acquaintance) with the sṛṣṭi-kartā (Creator), the inner connection (antaraṅga-tāra) becomes strong. Then, amidst the rush and unrest of the world (saṁsāra), the manaḥ (mind) does not become vicalita (disturbed); it remains śānta (calm).
As one’s relationship with Parameśvara grows—from mere acquaintance to closeness, and then to a dear friend—the disturbances of the world lose their hold. And the one whose manaḥ śāntaṁ (mind is peaceful), his vijaya-ratha (chariot of life) surely reaches the ultimate destination.
Bhagavān indicates that this is precisely why sādhakas (seekers) set out on this path—to inquire into their true nature. They ask, “Who am I?” Ramaṇa Maharṣi taught: “ko ’ham?” (Who am I?)—one should engage in this inquiry alone.
"Am I the śarīra (body), the indriyāḥ (senses), the manaḥ (mind), or the buddhi (intellect)? Who is the one who says, “my hands, my legs, my intellect”? Who is the witness of the body’s changes—from bālya-avasthā (childhood) to yauvana-avasthā (youth) to jarā-avasthā (old age)? Who is that which observes all this with tatastha-bhāva (detached witnessing)?"
Patañjali Muni presents Aṣṭāṅga-yoga (the eightfold path) to help one recognize and realize the antar-ātman (inner Self):
1. Yama (ethical restraints)
2. Niyama (disciplines/observances)
3. Āsana (posture)
4. Prāṇāyāma (regulation of breath)
5. Pratyāhāra (withdrawal of the senses)
6. Dhāraṇā (concentration)
7. Dhyāna (meditation)
8. Samādhi (absorption)
The first five—yama, niyama, āsana, prāṇāyāma, pratyāhāra—help turn the senses inward, giving them a proper foundation and withdrawal from external objects. This preparatory discipline is often associated with haṭha-yoga, and it serves as the groundwork for the inner journey (antar-yātrā).
The last three—dhāraṇā, dhyāna, samādhi—are known as rāja-yoga (the royal path of inner mastery). This adhyāya of the Bhagavad Gītā elaborates on this inner discipline.
A sādhaka who begins to walk on the path of yoga is called ārurukṣu (one who seeks to ascend in yoga), as described by Bhagavān.
One who has just begun walking on this path is called an ārurukṣu (one who desires to ascend in yoga). Such a person longs to reach the ultimate goal, to attain parama-śānti (supreme peace), and to know one’s own true nature. Not knowing one’s real nature is ajñāna (ignorance).
Jñāneśvar Mahārāj says:
आपला आपणपेयां । विसरु जो धनंजया ।
तेंचि रूप यया । अज्ञानासी ॥ ७१ ॥
“āpulā āpaṇa pāhē visarjō, dhanañjaya; tech rūpa he ajñānāsī”
(O Dhanañjaya, forgetting one’s own true Self—this itself is ignorance.)
Though the bahiraṅga (external forms) of individuals may differ, the antaraṅga, the ātma-tattva (inner Self), is a part (aṁśa) of Paramātmā / Parabrahman. Realizing this is the goal.
Bhagavān says that for those who have the desire to rise on this path (ārurukṣu), “karma kāraṇam ucyate” (action is the means). For them, karma itself is the sādhana (spiritual practice). Simply giving up action and sitting quietly does not lead to meditation; the mind often becomes vicalita (restless), because the necessary inner maturity has not yet been gained. Therefore, the practice of karma-yoga is essential as a preparation for dhyāna (meditation).
Bhagavān further says: “yogārūḍhasya tasyaiva śamaḥ kāraṇam ucyate” (for one who is established in yoga, tranquility is the means). A yogārūḍha is one who has recognized one’s true nature, attained ātma-jñāna, and realized one’s unity with the Paramātmā. For such a person, śama (inner quietude, peace) prevails; the agitation of action settles down.
At this stage, action naturally becomes minimal or effortless, and the person abides in deep inner stillness—this is the state that leads toward samādhi.
Jñāneśvar Mahārāj beautifully describes the state of samādhi as abiding in the present—free from anxiety about the future and released from the burden of the past.
(O Dhanañjaya, forgetting one’s own true Self—this itself is ignorance.)
Though the bahiraṅga (external forms) of individuals may differ, the antaraṅga, the ātma-tattva (inner Self), is a part (aṁśa) of Paramātmā / Parabrahman. Realizing this is the goal.
Bhagavān says that for those who have the desire to rise on this path (ārurukṣu), “karma kāraṇam ucyate” (action is the means). For them, karma itself is the sādhana (spiritual practice). Simply giving up action and sitting quietly does not lead to meditation; the mind often becomes vicalita (restless), because the necessary inner maturity has not yet been gained. Therefore, the practice of karma-yoga is essential as a preparation for dhyāna (meditation).
Bhagavān further says: “yogārūḍhasya tasyaiva śamaḥ kāraṇam ucyate” (for one who is established in yoga, tranquility is the means). A yogārūḍha is one who has recognized one’s true nature, attained ātma-jñāna, and realized one’s unity with the Paramātmā. For such a person, śama (inner quietude, peace) prevails; the agitation of action settles down.
At this stage, action naturally becomes minimal or effortless, and the person abides in deep inner stillness—this is the state that leads toward samādhi.
Jñāneśvar Mahārāj beautifully describes the state of samādhi as abiding in the present—free from anxiety about the future and released from the burden of the past.
जेथ पुढील पैसु पारुखे । मागील स्मरावें तें ठाके ।
ऐसिये सरिसीये भूमिके । समाधि राहे ॥६-६०॥
(parukhe = detached)
Here, “not remembering the past” does not mean loss of memory, but freedom from its psychological hold. One becomes mukta (free) from the lingering impressions and emotional effects of past experiences.
A person who remains established in this state is samādhistha (abiding in samādhi). Such a one truly lives in the present, with a mind that is steady, clear, and free.
Bhagavān explains how one becomes free without forcibly giving things up. Through the jñānendriyāḥ (sense organs), various experiences arise—cakṣuḥ (eyes) see, śrotra (ears) hear, ghrāṇa (nose) smells, tvak (skin) feels touch, and jihvā (tongue) tastes. These interactions give rise to two kinds of inner responses (bhāva / vṛtti): anukūla (pleasant, agreeable) and pratikūla (unpleasant, disagreeable).
For example, when the ears hear nindā (criticism), a feeling of dveṣa (aversion) may arise; when they hear stuti (praise), a feeling of pleasure arises. One is pratikūla, the other manonukūla (agreeable to the mind). In this way, the mind keeps reacting to sense-objects (viṣaya).
Bhagavān says that one who does not become attached to these viṣayāḥ (sense-objects), nor gets entangled in actions, nor is driven by svārtha-saṅkalpa (self-centered desires), is called a yogārūḍha (one established in yoga).
When one feels the desire to walk this path, one is an ārurukṣu (one who wishes to ascend in yoga). But how does one know whether the final goal has been reached? This is an inner journey, where one is both the examiner and the examined. It is a testing of one’s own antaraṅga (inner being), and only the individual truly knows the state of one’s own mind.
The indication lies not in external achievement, but in inner transformation. When the mind is no longer disturbed by anukūla–pratikūla (pleasant and unpleasant situations), when there is freedom from rāga–dveṣa (attachment and aversion), and when one remains śānta (calm) and santulita (balanced), it shows progress toward the goal.
When desires (saṅkalpa–kāmanāḥ) no longer agitate the mind, when actions continue without expectation, and when there is a natural sense of contentment and inner quietude, one moves closer to being yogārūḍha (established in yoga).
Here, “not remembering the past” does not mean loss of memory, but freedom from its psychological hold. One becomes mukta (free) from the lingering impressions and emotional effects of past experiences.
A person who remains established in this state is samādhistha (abiding in samādhi). Such a one truly lives in the present, with a mind that is steady, clear, and free.
Bhagavān explains how one becomes free without forcibly giving things up. Through the jñānendriyāḥ (sense organs), various experiences arise—cakṣuḥ (eyes) see, śrotra (ears) hear, ghrāṇa (nose) smells, tvak (skin) feels touch, and jihvā (tongue) tastes. These interactions give rise to two kinds of inner responses (bhāva / vṛtti): anukūla (pleasant, agreeable) and pratikūla (unpleasant, disagreeable).
For example, when the ears hear nindā (criticism), a feeling of dveṣa (aversion) may arise; when they hear stuti (praise), a feeling of pleasure arises. One is pratikūla, the other manonukūla (agreeable to the mind). In this way, the mind keeps reacting to sense-objects (viṣaya).
Bhagavān says that one who does not become attached to these viṣayāḥ (sense-objects), nor gets entangled in actions, nor is driven by svārtha-saṅkalpa (self-centered desires), is called a yogārūḍha (one established in yoga).
When one feels the desire to walk this path, one is an ārurukṣu (one who wishes to ascend in yoga). But how does one know whether the final goal has been reached? This is an inner journey, where one is both the examiner and the examined. It is a testing of one’s own antaraṅga (inner being), and only the individual truly knows the state of one’s own mind.
The indication lies not in external achievement, but in inner transformation. When the mind is no longer disturbed by anukūla–pratikūla (pleasant and unpleasant situations), when there is freedom from rāga–dveṣa (attachment and aversion), and when one remains śānta (calm) and santulita (balanced), it shows progress toward the goal.
When desires (saṅkalpa–kāmanāḥ) no longer agitate the mind, when actions continue without expectation, and when there is a natural sense of contentment and inner quietude, one moves closer to being yogārūḍha (established in yoga).
yadā hi nendriyārtheṣu, na karmasvanuṣajjate,
sarvasaṅkalpasannyāsī, yogārūḍhastadocyate. 6.4
When a man ceases to have any attachment for the objects of senses and for actions, and has renounced all ' 'Saṅkalpas' (thoughts of the world), he is said to have attained Yoga.
“When a person is not attached to the objects of the senses nor to actions, and has renounced all self-centered desires (saṅkalpa), then he is said to be yogārūḍha (established in yoga).”
Bhagavān is not saying that one should stop perceiving sense-objects. The eyes will see rūpa (forms), the ears will hear śabda (sounds), the nose will perceive gandha (smell), the skin will feel sparśa (touch), and the tongue will taste rasa. The point is not to reject these, but to be free from āsakti (attachment) toward them.
Similarly, “na karmasu anuṣajjate” means one is not attached even to action itself. Some people serve society selflessly without craving karma-phala (results), yet they become attached to the very act of doing. When the role or position is taken away, they feel disturbed. This shows attachment to karma itself.
Bhagavān is not saying that one should stop perceiving sense-objects. The eyes will see rūpa (forms), the ears will hear śabda (sounds), the nose will perceive gandha (smell), the skin will feel sparśa (touch), and the tongue will taste rasa. The point is not to reject these, but to be free from āsakti (attachment) toward them.
Similarly, “na karmasu anuṣajjate” means one is not attached even to action itself. Some people serve society selflessly without craving karma-phala (results), yet they become attached to the very act of doing. When the role or position is taken away, they feel disturbed. This shows attachment to karma itself.
तैसा कर्तृत्वाचा मदु । आणि कर्मफळाचा आस्वादु ।
या दोहींचें नांव बंधु । कर्माचा कीं ॥ २०५ ॥
Jñāneśvar Mahārāj points out that bondage can arise not only from attachment to results but also from attachment to action.
Therefore, Bhagavān gives three clear indicators of a yogārūḍha:
1. Not attached to indriya-viṣaya (sense-objects)
2. Not attached to karma (action itself)
3. Sarva-saṅkalpa-sannyāsī — one who has renounced self-centered desires.
One who stands firm on these three kasaṭī (touchstones) is called yogārūḍha.
It is important to understand that not all saṅkalpas are to be given up. Svārtha-saṅkalpa (selfish desires) bind, but lok-kalyāṇa-saṅkalpa (intentions for the welfare of all) uplift.
The resolve of Chhatrapati Śivājī Mahārāj to establish svarājya for the protection and well-being of society was not selfish; it was rooted in dharma and collective welfare. Chhatrapati Śivājī Mahārāj used to say that this kingdom belongs to Śambhu Mahādeva, and that svarājya was for the good of all. The circumstances at that time were bhīṣaṇa (severe). Hindus were being oppressed, cows were slaughtered, temples were damaged, and Hindu women were abducted. In this conflict-filled situation, Śivājī Mahārāj took an oath, a saṅkalpa of loka-kalyāṇa (welfare of society). But this was not a svārtha-saṅkalpa (selfish resolve). At Rohiḍeśvara, when he was merely sixteen years old, he cut his little finger and, with his blood dropping on the Mahādeva-piṇḍa (Śiva-liṅga), he took his saṅkalpa that he would establish svarājya and free his countrymen from these atrocities. This was not a svārthī saṅkalpa, but one for the well-being of society at large. This is not the kind of saṅkalpa that Bhagavān asks one to give up. This is something that must be clearly understood.
Thus, Bhagavān’s teaching is subtle: give up self-centered saṅkalpas, not noble, dharmic intentions. This distinction is important. Bhagavān does not ask one to give up all saṅkalpa, but specifically svārtha-saṅkalpa (self-centered desires). A resolve rooted in loka-kalyāṇa (the good of all) is not binding in the same way; rather, it becomes a means of higher action aligned with dharma.
Understanding this difference is essential: renunciation is not of noble purpose, but of selfish attachment.
Bhagavān then takes this further in Gītā 6.5, explaining how this inner upliftment (uddhāra) happens—who truly raises a person and leads one to the highest goal. This is an anupameya śloka (incomparable verse) of the Bhagavad Gītā: This verse conveys that a person is responsible for one’s own uddhāra (inner upliftment). The desire for upliftment must arise within one’s own manaḥ (mind). Guidance can be given, but the effort, discipline, and transformation must come from within.
Therefore, Bhagavān gives three clear indicators of a yogārūḍha:
1. Not attached to indriya-viṣaya (sense-objects)
2. Not attached to karma (action itself)
3. Sarva-saṅkalpa-sannyāsī — one who has renounced self-centered desires.
One who stands firm on these three kasaṭī (touchstones) is called yogārūḍha.
It is important to understand that not all saṅkalpas are to be given up. Svārtha-saṅkalpa (selfish desires) bind, but lok-kalyāṇa-saṅkalpa (intentions for the welfare of all) uplift.
The resolve of Chhatrapati Śivājī Mahārāj to establish svarājya for the protection and well-being of society was not selfish; it was rooted in dharma and collective welfare. Chhatrapati Śivājī Mahārāj used to say that this kingdom belongs to Śambhu Mahādeva, and that svarājya was for the good of all. The circumstances at that time were bhīṣaṇa (severe). Hindus were being oppressed, cows were slaughtered, temples were damaged, and Hindu women were abducted. In this conflict-filled situation, Śivājī Mahārāj took an oath, a saṅkalpa of loka-kalyāṇa (welfare of society). But this was not a svārtha-saṅkalpa (selfish resolve). At Rohiḍeśvara, when he was merely sixteen years old, he cut his little finger and, with his blood dropping on the Mahādeva-piṇḍa (Śiva-liṅga), he took his saṅkalpa that he would establish svarājya and free his countrymen from these atrocities. This was not a svārthī saṅkalpa, but one for the well-being of society at large. This is not the kind of saṅkalpa that Bhagavān asks one to give up. This is something that must be clearly understood.
Thus, Bhagavān’s teaching is subtle: give up self-centered saṅkalpas, not noble, dharmic intentions. This distinction is important. Bhagavān does not ask one to give up all saṅkalpa, but specifically svārtha-saṅkalpa (self-centered desires). A resolve rooted in loka-kalyāṇa (the good of all) is not binding in the same way; rather, it becomes a means of higher action aligned with dharma.
Understanding this difference is essential: renunciation is not of noble purpose, but of selfish attachment.
Bhagavān then takes this further in Gītā 6.5, explaining how this inner upliftment (uddhāra) happens—who truly raises a person and leads one to the highest goal. This is an anupameya śloka (incomparable verse) of the Bhagavad Gītā: This verse conveys that a person is responsible for one’s own uddhāra (inner upliftment). The desire for upliftment must arise within one’s own manaḥ (mind). Guidance can be given, but the effort, discipline, and transformation must come from within.
uddharedātmanātmānaṃ(n), nātmānamavasādayet,
ātmaiva hyātmano bandhuḥ(r), ātmaiva ripurātmanaḥ. 6.5
One should lift oneself by one’s own efforts and should not degrade oneself; for one’s own self is one’s friend, and one’s own self is one’s enemy.
Bhagavān says:“uddhared ātmanātmānaṁ” — one must uplift oneself by oneself.
A human being (manuṣya) has to take responsibility for one’s own uddhāra (inner upliftment). The initiative must arise within—one must decide, “I want to grow, I want to rise.”
Guru-kṛpā (the grace of the Guru) follows this inner readiness. When a person sincerely resolves to uplift oneself, guidance, support, and grace begin to manifest.
Bhagavān says: “na ātmānam avasādayet” — one should not let oneself fall into avasāda (depression, despair, or inner decline). One should not make one’s life avasāda-grasta (consumed by hopelessness or negativity).
He further says: “ātmaiva hy ātmano bandhuḥ” — the Self alone is one’s own friend. This means that a person, through right thinking, discipline, and awareness, becomes one’s own support system.
“ātmaiva hy ātmano ripuḥ” — the Self alone can become one’s own enemy. This means that the same inner self, if not guided properly, becomes the cause of one’s downfall and leads one onto the wrong path. When the manaḥ (mind) is uncontrolled, it pulls the person toward confusion, wrong choices, and inner suffering. In this sense, the self becomes its own adversary.
As Ghalib beautifully expresses this inner misunderstanding:
A human being (manuṣya) has to take responsibility for one’s own uddhāra (inner upliftment). The initiative must arise within—one must decide, “I want to grow, I want to rise.”
Guru-kṛpā (the grace of the Guru) follows this inner readiness. When a person sincerely resolves to uplift oneself, guidance, support, and grace begin to manifest.
Bhagavān says: “na ātmānam avasādayet” — one should not let oneself fall into avasāda (depression, despair, or inner decline). One should not make one’s life avasāda-grasta (consumed by hopelessness or negativity).
He further says: “ātmaiva hy ātmano bandhuḥ” — the Self alone is one’s own friend. This means that a person, through right thinking, discipline, and awareness, becomes one’s own support system.
“ātmaiva hy ātmano ripuḥ” — the Self alone can become one’s own enemy. This means that the same inner self, if not guided properly, becomes the cause of one’s downfall and leads one onto the wrong path. When the manaḥ (mind) is uncontrolled, it pulls the person toward confusion, wrong choices, and inner suffering. In this sense, the self becomes its own adversary.
As Ghalib beautifully expresses this inner misunderstanding:
उम्र भर ग़ालिब यही भूल करता रहा,
धूल चेहरे पर थी और आईना साफ़ करता रहा।
धूल चेहरे पर थी और आईना साफ़ करता रहा।
“Umr bhar Ghalib yahi bhool karta raha,
dhool chehre par thi aur aaina saaf karta raha.”
(All my life, Ghalib kept making the same mistake—there was dust on my face, yet I kept cleaning the mirror.)
This reflects the same idea: the problem is within, but one keeps looking outward for correction.
When the Self becomes one’s friend (ātmaiva hy ātmano bandhuḥ), it guides a person toward śubha karma (good actions), clarity of thought, and disciplined living. The mind supports right decisions, and life moves in the direction of uddhāra (upliftment). On the other hand, when the Self becomes one’s enemy (ātmaiva hy ātmano ripuḥ), the same mind begins to mislead. It pulls the person toward harmful habits such as madya-sevana (alcohol consumption) and other duṣṭa-ācarana (bad practices). In such a state, the inner control weakens and life moves toward decline.
Therefore, one must always keep a dhyeya (goal) of one’s own uddhāra (self-upliftment).
There are two ways of understanding this teaching.
One is: “I will do my own uddhāra” (self-upliftment). This means accepting responsibility for one’s life—not blaming circumstances alone for failures, but also not remaining stuck in them. It reflects the resolve: “Now I will correct myself and move forward.” It is the inner courage to realign one’s actions, thoughts, and habits toward a better direction.
The other perspective is that this responsibility is not about self-blame, but about self-empowerment. A person consciously decides: “I will guide myself onto the right path. I will set a clear dhyeya (goal), and I will work toward it.” This dhyeya becomes the compass that leads one toward the gantavya (destination).
This is similar to the instruction given in an airplane: when oxygen masks drop, one is first advised to put on one’s own mask before helping others. The reason is simple—unless one is stable and safe, one cannot support anyone else.
In the same way, Bhagavān’s teaching of ātma-uddhāra (self-upliftment) emphasizes becoming ātma-nirbhara (self-reliant and internally steady) first. One must establish clarity, discipline, and inner balance within oneself before effectively contributing to the welfare of others.
This does not mean selfishness; it means foundational stability. When one’s own mind is calm, focused, and well-guided, actions toward others naturally become more effective, compassionate, and meaningful.
Īśvara-kṛpā (God’s grace) is not something that happens randomly. This is beautifully illustrated in the story of ukhal-bandhana (the binding of the mortar), an incident between Yashodā Mātā and Nanda-lāla Kṛṣṇa (little Kṛṣṇa).
Child Kṛṣṇa steals navanīta (fresh butter) every day with his Gopī friends. The Gopīs approach Yaśodā Mātā daily, bringing their complaints about his mischievous acts. This continues as a daily routine. One day, Yaśodā Mātā becomes very angry and attempts to bind him to an ukhal (wooden mortar).
Yaśodā Mātā runs behind Kanhā, holding a stick in her hand. Kanhā keeps requesting her to put down the stick. At last, Yaśodā Mātā grows tired, stops, and drops the stick. Then Kanhā himself runs into her embrace. Similarly, when one abandons the stick of ahaṅkāra (ego), Bhagavān Himself comes and allows Himself to be bound (bandhana) by the devotee.
In this līlā, Yashodā tries to bind the child Kṛṣṇa with a rope. No matter how many ropes she joins, they fall short by a small margin of two fingers. Bhagavān Vedavyāsa describes these two fingers. They signify the two means that assist a seeker in attaining the ultimate goal (parama gati).
The bhakta’s effort represents human sādhana (effort), and the slight shortness of the rope represents the limitation of human control. When complete effort is combined with humility and surrender, then Īśvara-kṛpā manifests and the Divine allows Himself to be “bound.” First, one must begin to walk on one’s own; then the path gradually becomes clear and opens up on its own. Thus, grace does not replace effort—it completes it. When sincere effort meets surrender, kṛpā naturally descends.
Bhagavān says: One should uplift oneself by one’s own self and not degrade oneself. The self alone is one’s friend, and the self alone is one’s enemy.
Jñāneśvar Mahārāj says:
dhool chehre par thi aur aaina saaf karta raha.”
(All my life, Ghalib kept making the same mistake—there was dust on my face, yet I kept cleaning the mirror.)
This reflects the same idea: the problem is within, but one keeps looking outward for correction.
When the Self becomes one’s friend (ātmaiva hy ātmano bandhuḥ), it guides a person toward śubha karma (good actions), clarity of thought, and disciplined living. The mind supports right decisions, and life moves in the direction of uddhāra (upliftment). On the other hand, when the Self becomes one’s enemy (ātmaiva hy ātmano ripuḥ), the same mind begins to mislead. It pulls the person toward harmful habits such as madya-sevana (alcohol consumption) and other duṣṭa-ācarana (bad practices). In such a state, the inner control weakens and life moves toward decline.
Therefore, one must always keep a dhyeya (goal) of one’s own uddhāra (self-upliftment).
There are two ways of understanding this teaching.
One is: “I will do my own uddhāra” (self-upliftment). This means accepting responsibility for one’s life—not blaming circumstances alone for failures, but also not remaining stuck in them. It reflects the resolve: “Now I will correct myself and move forward.” It is the inner courage to realign one’s actions, thoughts, and habits toward a better direction.
The other perspective is that this responsibility is not about self-blame, but about self-empowerment. A person consciously decides: “I will guide myself onto the right path. I will set a clear dhyeya (goal), and I will work toward it.” This dhyeya becomes the compass that leads one toward the gantavya (destination).
This is similar to the instruction given in an airplane: when oxygen masks drop, one is first advised to put on one’s own mask before helping others. The reason is simple—unless one is stable and safe, one cannot support anyone else.
In the same way, Bhagavān’s teaching of ātma-uddhāra (self-upliftment) emphasizes becoming ātma-nirbhara (self-reliant and internally steady) first. One must establish clarity, discipline, and inner balance within oneself before effectively contributing to the welfare of others.
This does not mean selfishness; it means foundational stability. When one’s own mind is calm, focused, and well-guided, actions toward others naturally become more effective, compassionate, and meaningful.
Īśvara-kṛpā (God’s grace) is not something that happens randomly. This is beautifully illustrated in the story of ukhal-bandhana (the binding of the mortar), an incident between Yashodā Mātā and Nanda-lāla Kṛṣṇa (little Kṛṣṇa).
Child Kṛṣṇa steals navanīta (fresh butter) every day with his Gopī friends. The Gopīs approach Yaśodā Mātā daily, bringing their complaints about his mischievous acts. This continues as a daily routine. One day, Yaśodā Mātā becomes very angry and attempts to bind him to an ukhal (wooden mortar).
Yaśodā Mātā runs behind Kanhā, holding a stick in her hand. Kanhā keeps requesting her to put down the stick. At last, Yaśodā Mātā grows tired, stops, and drops the stick. Then Kanhā himself runs into her embrace. Similarly, when one abandons the stick of ahaṅkāra (ego), Bhagavān Himself comes and allows Himself to be bound (bandhana) by the devotee.
In this līlā, Yashodā tries to bind the child Kṛṣṇa with a rope. No matter how many ropes she joins, they fall short by a small margin of two fingers. Bhagavān Vedavyāsa describes these two fingers. They signify the two means that assist a seeker in attaining the ultimate goal (parama gati).
The bhakta’s effort represents human sādhana (effort), and the slight shortness of the rope represents the limitation of human control. When complete effort is combined with humility and surrender, then Īśvara-kṛpā manifests and the Divine allows Himself to be “bound.” First, one must begin to walk on one’s own; then the path gradually becomes clear and opens up on its own. Thus, grace does not replace effort—it completes it. When sincere effort meets surrender, kṛpā naturally descends.
Bhagavān says: One should uplift oneself by one’s own self and not degrade oneself. The self alone is one’s friend, and the self alone is one’s enemy.
Jñāneśvar Mahārāj says:
म्हणौनि आपणचि आपणयां । घातु कीजतु असे धनंजया ।
चित्त देऊनि नाथिलिया । देहाभिमाना ॥६-७०॥
āpṇās āpaṇ pāhī ghaḍatī jāte, he Dhanañjaya
(O Dhanañjaya, a person shapes and elevates oneself by one’s own self).
All those who live only with identification with the body (deha-abhimāna) fall into despondency (avasāda) at some point or the other. The Bhagavad Gītā awakens the awareness of the Self (ātma-bhāna). It teaches that one is not merely the body (deha), senses (indriya), mind (manaḥ), or intellect (buddhi); there is a fifth dimension that is often forgotten. One is the ātma-tattva (the true Self), which is a part (aṁśa) of the Paramātman (Supreme Self). Bhagavān now explains how one can reach this realization.
(O Dhanañjaya, a person shapes and elevates oneself by one’s own self).
All those who live only with identification with the body (deha-abhimāna) fall into despondency (avasāda) at some point or the other. The Bhagavad Gītā awakens the awareness of the Self (ātma-bhāna). It teaches that one is not merely the body (deha), senses (indriya), mind (manaḥ), or intellect (buddhi); there is a fifth dimension that is often forgotten. One is the ātma-tattva (the true Self), which is a part (aṁśa) of the Paramātman (Supreme Self). Bhagavān now explains how one can reach this realization.
bandhurātmātmanastasya, yenātmaivātmanā jitaḥ,
anātmanastu śatrutve, vartetātmaiva śatruvat. 6.6
One’s own self is the friend of the soul by whom the lower self (consisting of the mind, senses, and body) has been conquered; even so, the very Self of him, who has not conquered his lower self, behaves antagonistically like an enemy.
Bhagavān asks Arjuna to understand that he has followed the path (anusaraṇa) and is constantly progressing on the path of welfare (kalyāṇa-mārga). One is one’s own friend (bandhu) through such effort. Though he may feel despondent (avasāda) at present, he is under the shelter of his Sadguru, and therefore receives grace (kṛpā). Having practiced yogābhyāsa (disciplined spiritual practice) consistently, he has preserved his inner strength (manobala). That is why he is truly his own friend.
Bhagavān teaches this for everyone. Through ātmanā ātmanam (by one’s own self), if a person, with their own kṣamatā (capacity) and śakti (inner strength), restrains and masters oneself, only then can one truly walk on the path of righteousness (dharma-mārga).
Otherwise, we often see a conflict within. At times, we make a noble resolve (saṅkalpa)—for example, “I will wake up early and do yogābhyāsa.” Yet there are two movements of the mind (manaḥ): one that makes the saṅkalpa (resolve), and another that creates vikalpa (doubt or alternative impulse). The latter says, “Keep sleeping.”
Many may be listening to this vivecana (discourse), but only a few will give it priority. Others may choose to watch an entertainment program on television, thinking they will listen later—this is vikalpa. Recognizing that listening to the vivecana is important and choosing it firmly is saṅkalpa.
Recognizing the saṅkalpa–vikalpatmaka manaḥ (the mind that creates both resolve and doubt), gaining control over it, discerning what is right and wrong for oneself, and then walking on the right path—this is called viveka-śakti (the power of discrimination). The central message of the Bhagavad Gītā is the awakening of this viveka (inner discernment).
Bhagavān also warns:
anātmanas tu śatrutve vartet ātmaiva śatruvat
(For one who has not mastered oneself (anātman), the self behaves like an enemy.)
Those who have not gained control over themselves become their own enemies. They act against their own well-being. Within each person, there is an inner voice—antar-vāṇī or viveka (inner discernment)—which guides one to make the right decision at the right time and sets one on the proper path.
There is a voice inside of you
That speaks all day long
I know this is right for me
I know this is wrong
No teacher preacher parent and friend
Even a wise man can decide
What is right
What is wrong for you
Just listen to the voice inside
Everyone has this inner voice, but it is often not heeded. It is said that the younger generation struggles with addictions such as smoking, alcohol, and drugs. Yet, when a young person takes the first puff of a cigarette, the inner voice (antar-vāṇī or viveka) cautions him to stop. Similarly, when a person takes the first sip of alcohol, that same inner voice tells him that it is not good for him. However, when this inner voice (antar-vāṇī or viveka) is repeatedly ignored, it gradually becomes faint and dim, and the wrong habit (duṣṭa-āchāra) takes root. What begins as a choice slowly turns into a habit—something that stays even if parts of it are removed; its hold remains because it has become ingrained.
Self-control is essential. One who attains self-control (ātma-saṁyama) begins to experience the presence and realization (darśana) of the Paramātman (Supreme Self) within.
Bhagavān teaches this for everyone. Through ātmanā ātmanam (by one’s own self), if a person, with their own kṣamatā (capacity) and śakti (inner strength), restrains and masters oneself, only then can one truly walk on the path of righteousness (dharma-mārga).
Otherwise, we often see a conflict within. At times, we make a noble resolve (saṅkalpa)—for example, “I will wake up early and do yogābhyāsa.” Yet there are two movements of the mind (manaḥ): one that makes the saṅkalpa (resolve), and another that creates vikalpa (doubt or alternative impulse). The latter says, “Keep sleeping.”
Many may be listening to this vivecana (discourse), but only a few will give it priority. Others may choose to watch an entertainment program on television, thinking they will listen later—this is vikalpa. Recognizing that listening to the vivecana is important and choosing it firmly is saṅkalpa.
Recognizing the saṅkalpa–vikalpatmaka manaḥ (the mind that creates both resolve and doubt), gaining control over it, discerning what is right and wrong for oneself, and then walking on the right path—this is called viveka-śakti (the power of discrimination). The central message of the Bhagavad Gītā is the awakening of this viveka (inner discernment).
Bhagavān also warns:
anātmanas tu śatrutve vartet ātmaiva śatruvat
(For one who has not mastered oneself (anātman), the self behaves like an enemy.)
Those who have not gained control over themselves become their own enemies. They act against their own well-being. Within each person, there is an inner voice—antar-vāṇī or viveka (inner discernment)—which guides one to make the right decision at the right time and sets one on the proper path.
There is a voice inside of you
That speaks all day long
I know this is right for me
I know this is wrong
No teacher preacher parent and friend
Even a wise man can decide
What is right
What is wrong for you
Just listen to the voice inside
Everyone has this inner voice, but it is often not heeded. It is said that the younger generation struggles with addictions such as smoking, alcohol, and drugs. Yet, when a young person takes the first puff of a cigarette, the inner voice (antar-vāṇī or viveka) cautions him to stop. Similarly, when a person takes the first sip of alcohol, that same inner voice tells him that it is not good for him. However, when this inner voice (antar-vāṇī or viveka) is repeatedly ignored, it gradually becomes faint and dim, and the wrong habit (duṣṭa-āchāra) takes root. What begins as a choice slowly turns into a habit—something that stays even if parts of it are removed; its hold remains because it has become ingrained.
Self-control is essential. One who attains self-control (ātma-saṁyama) begins to experience the presence and realization (darśana) of the Paramātman (Supreme Self) within.
jitātmanaḥ(ph) praśāntasya, paramātmā samāhitaḥ,
śītoṣṇasukhaduḥkheṣu, tathā mānāpamānayoḥ. 6.7
The Supreme Spirit is rooted in the knowledge of the self-controlled man whose mind is perfectly serene in the midst of pairs of opposites, such as cold and heat, joy and sorrow, and honor and ignominy.
Jitātmanaḥ—one who has mastered oneself. When a person places an aṅkuśa (restraint or inner control) upon oneself, the mind becomes deeply calm —praśāntasya prakāśaḥ (a state of profound calm and clarity). In such a state, aśānti (restlessness) no longer arises.
True śānti (peace) is not limited to favorable circumstances. A common problem today is that in favorable situations, a person becomes overly excited, starts showing off, and loses inner balance—becoming aśānta. Yet even in unfavorable situations, one should remain calm and steady. This state is called praśānta-prakāraḥ—a condition of deep, unwavering tranquility.
When the manaḥ (mind) remains śānta (calm) in both favorable and unfavorable circumstances, a person is able to take appropriate and balanced decisions.
For example, if a diamond ring falls into a pool filled with leaves and dirt, it cannot be seen. On the other hand, even if the water is clear but full of waves, the ring still will not be visible. But when the water is both clear and still, the fallen ring becomes easily visible.
Similarly, the ātma-tattva (true Self) or paramātma-tattva (Supreme Self) within us is covered by buddhi (intellect), citta (mind-stuff), and ahaṅkāra (ego). Due to the many happenings of life, impurities (mala) accumulate in the citta, making it difficult to have darśana (realization) of the ātma-svarūpa (true nature of the Self). However, when the manaḥ (mind) becomes śānta (calm), svaccha (pure), and sthira (steady), then that darśana (realization) becomes possible.
Suppose some guests arrive at a house, and just before ringing the doorbell, they hear loud arguments inside. Naturally, they would hesitate to enter. In the same way, the ātma-tattva (true Self) seems distant when one’s antaraṅga (inner being) is filled with inner turbulence arising from the activities of saṁsāra (worldly life). The Paramātma-darśana (realization of the Supreme Self) becomes possible only when the manaḥ (mind) is śānta (calm).
Then, even amidst the rush of life—śīta-uṣṇa (heat and cold), sukha-duḥkha (pleasure and pain), and māna-apamāna (honor and dishonor)—the manaḥ remains steady and peaceful. Here, śīta and uṣṇa represent favorable and unfavorable conditions at the level of the body, while sukha and duḥkha belong to the level of the mind. When a person feels happy on receiving sanmān (honor) and sad when facing apamān (insult), it shows that one’s happiness and sorrow are dependent on others.
Within the antaḥkaraṇa (inner being), two kinds of vṛttis (mental modifications) arise based on how others behave.
An incident from the life of Gautama Buddha illustrates this. He renounced his palace after realizing that all bhoga (worldly pleasures) could not remove duḥkha (suffering). In search of true ānanda (bliss) and śānti (peace), he left behind royal comforts. He also left his wife and son, and through deep sādhanā (spiritual practice), he ultimately attained nirvāṇa (liberation).
When a sant mahātmā (realized soul) attains such a high state of being, society often troubles them, as it finds it difficult to accept such deep peace and equanimity. An incident from the life of Gautama Buddha’s life illustrates this. One day, while he was sitting under a tree, a man came and spat on him. Buddha calmly wiped it off and gently asked whether the man wished to say anything else. Surprised, the man asked if he was not angry. Gautama Buddha replied, “If you try to make me angry and I get angry, then I am under your control (parādhīna). I am not parādhīna; I am svādhīna (self-governed). No one else can make me angry.”
The man left but soon began to repent his actions. The next day, he returned and fell at Buddha’s feet, asking for forgiveness. Once again, Buddha calmly asked if he wished to say anything else. The man pleaded to be forgiven.
Buddha replied, “I have already forgiven you. If I forgive you only after you ask, then I become dependent on you (parādhīna). I am not parādhīna; I am svādhīna.”
Once a person understands this, that others are the cause of māna-apamāna (honor and insult), and does not allow the inner state to be disturbed by them.
True śānti (peace) is not limited to favorable circumstances. A common problem today is that in favorable situations, a person becomes overly excited, starts showing off, and loses inner balance—becoming aśānta. Yet even in unfavorable situations, one should remain calm and steady. This state is called praśānta-prakāraḥ—a condition of deep, unwavering tranquility.
When the manaḥ (mind) remains śānta (calm) in both favorable and unfavorable circumstances, a person is able to take appropriate and balanced decisions.
For example, if a diamond ring falls into a pool filled with leaves and dirt, it cannot be seen. On the other hand, even if the water is clear but full of waves, the ring still will not be visible. But when the water is both clear and still, the fallen ring becomes easily visible.
Similarly, the ātma-tattva (true Self) or paramātma-tattva (Supreme Self) within us is covered by buddhi (intellect), citta (mind-stuff), and ahaṅkāra (ego). Due to the many happenings of life, impurities (mala) accumulate in the citta, making it difficult to have darśana (realization) of the ātma-svarūpa (true nature of the Self). However, when the manaḥ (mind) becomes śānta (calm), svaccha (pure), and sthira (steady), then that darśana (realization) becomes possible.
Suppose some guests arrive at a house, and just before ringing the doorbell, they hear loud arguments inside. Naturally, they would hesitate to enter. In the same way, the ātma-tattva (true Self) seems distant when one’s antaraṅga (inner being) is filled with inner turbulence arising from the activities of saṁsāra (worldly life). The Paramātma-darśana (realization of the Supreme Self) becomes possible only when the manaḥ (mind) is śānta (calm).
Then, even amidst the rush of life—śīta-uṣṇa (heat and cold), sukha-duḥkha (pleasure and pain), and māna-apamāna (honor and dishonor)—the manaḥ remains steady and peaceful. Here, śīta and uṣṇa represent favorable and unfavorable conditions at the level of the body, while sukha and duḥkha belong to the level of the mind. When a person feels happy on receiving sanmān (honor) and sad when facing apamān (insult), it shows that one’s happiness and sorrow are dependent on others.
Within the antaḥkaraṇa (inner being), two kinds of vṛttis (mental modifications) arise based on how others behave.
An incident from the life of Gautama Buddha illustrates this. He renounced his palace after realizing that all bhoga (worldly pleasures) could not remove duḥkha (suffering). In search of true ānanda (bliss) and śānti (peace), he left behind royal comforts. He also left his wife and son, and through deep sādhanā (spiritual practice), he ultimately attained nirvāṇa (liberation).
When a sant mahātmā (realized soul) attains such a high state of being, society often troubles them, as it finds it difficult to accept such deep peace and equanimity. An incident from the life of Gautama Buddha’s life illustrates this. One day, while he was sitting under a tree, a man came and spat on him. Buddha calmly wiped it off and gently asked whether the man wished to say anything else. Surprised, the man asked if he was not angry. Gautama Buddha replied, “If you try to make me angry and I get angry, then I am under your control (parādhīna). I am not parādhīna; I am svādhīna (self-governed). No one else can make me angry.”
The man left but soon began to repent his actions. The next day, he returned and fell at Buddha’s feet, asking for forgiveness. Once again, Buddha calmly asked if he wished to say anything else. The man pleaded to be forgiven.
Buddha replied, “I have already forgiven you. If I forgive you only after you ask, then I become dependent on you (parādhīna). I am not parādhīna; I am svādhīna.”
Once a person understands this, that others are the cause of māna-apamāna (honor and insult), and does not allow the inner state to be disturbed by them.
jñānavijñānatṛptātmā, kūṭastho vijitendriyaḥ,
yukta ityucyate yogī, ṣamaloṣṭāśmakāñcanaḥ. 6.8
The Yogī whose mind is sated with Jñāna (Knowledge of Nirguņa Brahma) and Vijñāna (Knowledge of manifest Divinity), who is unmoved under all circumstances, whose senses are completely under control, and to whom mud, stone and gold are all alike, is spoken of as a God-realized soul.
One meaning of jñāna is ātma-jñāna (knowledge of the Self). It can also mean general knowledge or śabda-jñāna (theoretical understanding through words and study).
Vijñāna, on the other hand, refers to viśeṣa-jñāna (deeper, distinguished knowledge), knowledge of the prapañca (the manifested world), and most importantly, anubhūti (direct experience or practical realization).
One who possesses both jñāna (theoretical understanding) and vijñāna (lived experience) becomes a tṛptātmā (a fulfilled and contented self). Such a person is inwardly complete and does not remain dependent on others.
Atṛpti (inner dissatisfaction) makes a person dependent on external sādhana (means) and on other people. But one whose manaḥ (mind) is tṛpta (content) begins to move toward the sūkṣma svarūpa (subtle, true nature of the Self).
kūṭastho vijitendriyaḥ — here, kūṭa has multiple meanings. One meaning is “that which is hidden,” indicating one who has not only reached that subtle state but has become firmly established (sthita) in it.
Another meaning of kūṭa is the peak of a mountain—where no grass grows, no seeds sprout, and rain has no effect. This symbolizes a state beyond the influence of change and the fruits of action (karma-phala), indicating one who is free from their binding effects.
A kūṭastha is one who has become a vijeta (master) over the indriya (senses). Such a person develops a vision of sama-loṣṭa-kāñcana—that is, samatva-dṛṣṭi (equal vision), where gold, mud, and stone are seen alike. This does not mean carelessness or a lack of practical understanding. Rather, it reflects wisdom. Such a person understands how life truly functions. They know that gold does not sustain life; it is the earth that produces grains, and grains provide nourishment to the body. Because mud is found in abundance, its importance often goes unnoticed, whereas gold, being rare, is given undue value.
sama-loṣṭa-kāñcanaḥ yogī sama-yukta iti ucyate — such a yogī, who sees mud, stone, and gold alike, is said to be ever united (sama-yukta) with the Paramātman.
After the Rāvaṇa-vadha and Śrī Rāma’s rājyābhiṣeka, Sītā Mātā observed that Hanumān had not been given any special gift. Śrī Rāma replied that nothing needed to be given to him—one whose antaraṅga (inner being) is filled with Rāma requires no other reward. Hanumān’s very attitude was “Rāma-kāja karibe ko ātura”—ever eager to serve Rāma. He was completely immersed in Rāma’s work and had, in essence, attained Him. Even so, out of affection, Sītā Mātā offered Hanumān a necklace of pearls. Hanumān began breaking each pearl, looking within to see whether Rāma was present in it.
If one learns to see Rāma in everything in this saṁsāra, one begins to feel His presence everywhere. And when one turns inward and seeks Him in the antaraṅga (inner being), one realizes the antar-ātmā (indwelling Self). There alone are ārāma, viśrāma, and viśrānti—true rest, peace, and fulfillment.
An often-cited example is that of Einstein, who reportedly used his Nobel Prize cheque as a bookmark rather than encashing it. This illustrates a spirit similar to sama-loṣṭa-kāñcana—a vision where gold and ordinary objects are regarded with the same detachment, without undue attachment or value.
The story of King Midas also illustrates this truth. Due to excessive greed for gold, he asked for a boon that whatever he touched should turn into gold. He was delighted when the boon was granted and began turning everything in his palace into gold. But soon he felt hungry and tried to eat, the food turned into gold. When he tried to drink water, that too became gold at his touch. The king was left hungry and thirsty. Finally, when his daughter came running to embrace him, she too turned into gold when he touched her. Midas then began to weep, realizing that food and relationships are far more valuable than gold.
One who understands the true value of things in life and moves in that direction—Bhagavān calls such a person a yogī, “yukta iti ucyate” (one who is rightly united and balanced). With this understanding, one’s dṛṣṭi (vision) is transformed.
Vijñāna, on the other hand, refers to viśeṣa-jñāna (deeper, distinguished knowledge), knowledge of the prapañca (the manifested world), and most importantly, anubhūti (direct experience or practical realization).
One who possesses both jñāna (theoretical understanding) and vijñāna (lived experience) becomes a tṛptātmā (a fulfilled and contented self). Such a person is inwardly complete and does not remain dependent on others.
Atṛpti (inner dissatisfaction) makes a person dependent on external sādhana (means) and on other people. But one whose manaḥ (mind) is tṛpta (content) begins to move toward the sūkṣma svarūpa (subtle, true nature of the Self).
kūṭastho vijitendriyaḥ — here, kūṭa has multiple meanings. One meaning is “that which is hidden,” indicating one who has not only reached that subtle state but has become firmly established (sthita) in it.
Another meaning of kūṭa is the peak of a mountain—where no grass grows, no seeds sprout, and rain has no effect. This symbolizes a state beyond the influence of change and the fruits of action (karma-phala), indicating one who is free from their binding effects.
A kūṭastha is one who has become a vijeta (master) over the indriya (senses). Such a person develops a vision of sama-loṣṭa-kāñcana—that is, samatva-dṛṣṭi (equal vision), where gold, mud, and stone are seen alike. This does not mean carelessness or a lack of practical understanding. Rather, it reflects wisdom. Such a person understands how life truly functions. They know that gold does not sustain life; it is the earth that produces grains, and grains provide nourishment to the body. Because mud is found in abundance, its importance often goes unnoticed, whereas gold, being rare, is given undue value.
sama-loṣṭa-kāñcanaḥ yogī sama-yukta iti ucyate — such a yogī, who sees mud, stone, and gold alike, is said to be ever united (sama-yukta) with the Paramātman.
After the Rāvaṇa-vadha and Śrī Rāma’s rājyābhiṣeka, Sītā Mātā observed that Hanumān had not been given any special gift. Śrī Rāma replied that nothing needed to be given to him—one whose antaraṅga (inner being) is filled with Rāma requires no other reward. Hanumān’s very attitude was “Rāma-kāja karibe ko ātura”—ever eager to serve Rāma. He was completely immersed in Rāma’s work and had, in essence, attained Him. Even so, out of affection, Sītā Mātā offered Hanumān a necklace of pearls. Hanumān began breaking each pearl, looking within to see whether Rāma was present in it.
If one learns to see Rāma in everything in this saṁsāra, one begins to feel His presence everywhere. And when one turns inward and seeks Him in the antaraṅga (inner being), one realizes the antar-ātmā (indwelling Self). There alone are ārāma, viśrāma, and viśrānti—true rest, peace, and fulfillment.
An often-cited example is that of Einstein, who reportedly used his Nobel Prize cheque as a bookmark rather than encashing it. This illustrates a spirit similar to sama-loṣṭa-kāñcana—a vision where gold and ordinary objects are regarded with the same detachment, without undue attachment or value.
The story of King Midas also illustrates this truth. Due to excessive greed for gold, he asked for a boon that whatever he touched should turn into gold. He was delighted when the boon was granted and began turning everything in his palace into gold. But soon he felt hungry and tried to eat, the food turned into gold. When he tried to drink water, that too became gold at his touch. The king was left hungry and thirsty. Finally, when his daughter came running to embrace him, she too turned into gold when he touched her. Midas then began to weep, realizing that food and relationships are far more valuable than gold.
One who understands the true value of things in life and moves in that direction—Bhagavān calls such a person a yogī, “yukta iti ucyate” (one who is rightly united and balanced). With this understanding, one’s dṛṣṭi (vision) is transformed.
Suhṛnmitrāryudāsīna, madhyasthadveṣyabandhuṣu,
sādhuṣvapi ca pāpeṣu, ṣamabuddhirviśiṣyate. 6.9
He who looks upon well-wishers and neutrals as well as mediators, friends and foes, relatives and inimicals, the virtuous and the sinful, with equanimity, stands supreme.
The Bhagavad Gītā describes the different kinds of people who come into our lives: suhr̥t, mitra, ari, udāsīna, madhyastha, bandhu, dveṣya, sādhu, pāpī
A suhr̥t (well-wisher) is one who always thinks of another’s kalyāṇa (welfare) without expecting anything in return—such as elders, parents, and the Guru. They do not expect the other person to think of their welfare, yet they constantly think of that person’s well-being.
A mitra (friend) is different—here, the goodwill is mutual; both wish for each other’s well-being.
An ari (enemy) is one who harbors enmity, often even without a valid reason.
Udāsīna people are those who remain neutral or indifferent (tatastha). There is no particular sambandha (relationship) with them—like strangers walking on the road, who are not connected to one another.
Madhyastha are those who act as mediators—they remain balanced and offer guidance or advice without taking sides.
Then there are those who hold dveṣa (hatred or ill will).
Bandhu refers to one’s own people—family members and close relations.
Sādhuṣu are sajjana (noble, virtuous people), while pāpeṣu refers to those who engage in wrong or harmful actions.
Bhagavān says that one who looks upon all these types of people with tatastha-bhāva (a balanced, impartial attitude) is not disturbed by their actions or behavior. Such a person possesses sama-buddhi (equal vision) and is regarded as distinguished.
Seeing the same cetanā (consciousness) in all these different types of people is the essence of sama-buddhi (equal vision). Bhagavān does not say that one should have the same vyavahāra (external behavior) with everyone; rather, He teaches that the buddhi (inner attitude) should remain equal—rooted in goodwill, being a well-wisher of all.
This is similar to the spirit expressed by Abraham Lincoln: “With malice toward none, with love for all, fight we must.”
One who commits a crime must be punished, but without harboring hatred (dveṣa) in the heart. Justice in vyavahāra (conduct) is necessary, yet inner bitterness is not.
Śrī Rāma killed Rāvaṇa because he was a pāpī who had committed many wrong deeds. However, after Rāvaṇa’s death, Rāma held no ghṛṇā (hatred) or dveṣa toward him. When Vibhīṣaṇa hesitated to perform the last rites, Rāma instructed him to do so—not merely as Vibhīṣaṇa’s brother, but as Rāma’s own brother.
With death, enmity ends; no hatred remains. This is sama-buddhi in vyavahāra—acting rightly, yet remaining inwardly free from hatred and negativity.
Bhagavān does not advise Arjuna to go to the Himalayas and perform penance for ātma-jñāna. Instead, He asks Arjuna to fight the battle, which is his kartavya-karma (righteous duty). While performing his duty, Arjuna is to develop an inner outlook that frees him from the influences of saṁsāra and leads him to parama-śānti (supreme peace).
That is why the teaching is:
dṛṣṭi meṁ samatā, vyavahāra meṁ yathā-adhikāritā — maintain equality of vision (samatā) within, but act appropriately in the world according to one’s role and responsibility.
Gurudev says, “jaisā adhikār, vaisā vyavahār”—conduct should be according to the role, need, and eligibility.
One may love a pet dog, but even that love has its proper limits and expression.
Similarly, a mother having three sons: one is an infant who must be fed milk; the second is unwell and needs soft, light food; the third is physically active and requires a nutritious, strength-giving diet. The mother has sama-dṛṣṭi (equal love and goodwill) for all her sons, as she wishes the well-being of each. Yet her vyavahār (conduct) differs, as she gives each child what is appropriate to his condition. This illustrates the principle—inner equality with appropriate outer action.
To reach this state, one must embark on an antaryātrā (inner journey) through dhyāna, dhāraṇā, and samādhi. For this, it is helpful to choose a ramaṇīya sthāna (a pleasant, and conducive place) that supports concentration and inner stillness.
A suhr̥t (well-wisher) is one who always thinks of another’s kalyāṇa (welfare) without expecting anything in return—such as elders, parents, and the Guru. They do not expect the other person to think of their welfare, yet they constantly think of that person’s well-being.
A mitra (friend) is different—here, the goodwill is mutual; both wish for each other’s well-being.
An ari (enemy) is one who harbors enmity, often even without a valid reason.
Udāsīna people are those who remain neutral or indifferent (tatastha). There is no particular sambandha (relationship) with them—like strangers walking on the road, who are not connected to one another.
Madhyastha are those who act as mediators—they remain balanced and offer guidance or advice without taking sides.
Then there are those who hold dveṣa (hatred or ill will).
Bandhu refers to one’s own people—family members and close relations.
Sādhuṣu are sajjana (noble, virtuous people), while pāpeṣu refers to those who engage in wrong or harmful actions.
Bhagavān says that one who looks upon all these types of people with tatastha-bhāva (a balanced, impartial attitude) is not disturbed by their actions or behavior. Such a person possesses sama-buddhi (equal vision) and is regarded as distinguished.
Seeing the same cetanā (consciousness) in all these different types of people is the essence of sama-buddhi (equal vision). Bhagavān does not say that one should have the same vyavahāra (external behavior) with everyone; rather, He teaches that the buddhi (inner attitude) should remain equal—rooted in goodwill, being a well-wisher of all.
This is similar to the spirit expressed by Abraham Lincoln: “With malice toward none, with love for all, fight we must.”
One who commits a crime must be punished, but without harboring hatred (dveṣa) in the heart. Justice in vyavahāra (conduct) is necessary, yet inner bitterness is not.
Śrī Rāma killed Rāvaṇa because he was a pāpī who had committed many wrong deeds. However, after Rāvaṇa’s death, Rāma held no ghṛṇā (hatred) or dveṣa toward him. When Vibhīṣaṇa hesitated to perform the last rites, Rāma instructed him to do so—not merely as Vibhīṣaṇa’s brother, but as Rāma’s own brother.
With death, enmity ends; no hatred remains. This is sama-buddhi in vyavahāra—acting rightly, yet remaining inwardly free from hatred and negativity.
Bhagavān does not advise Arjuna to go to the Himalayas and perform penance for ātma-jñāna. Instead, He asks Arjuna to fight the battle, which is his kartavya-karma (righteous duty). While performing his duty, Arjuna is to develop an inner outlook that frees him from the influences of saṁsāra and leads him to parama-śānti (supreme peace).
That is why the teaching is:
dṛṣṭi meṁ samatā, vyavahāra meṁ yathā-adhikāritā — maintain equality of vision (samatā) within, but act appropriately in the world according to one’s role and responsibility.
Gurudev says, “jaisā adhikār, vaisā vyavahār”—conduct should be according to the role, need, and eligibility.
One may love a pet dog, but even that love has its proper limits and expression.
Similarly, a mother having three sons: one is an infant who must be fed milk; the second is unwell and needs soft, light food; the third is physically active and requires a nutritious, strength-giving diet. The mother has sama-dṛṣṭi (equal love and goodwill) for all her sons, as she wishes the well-being of each. Yet her vyavahār (conduct) differs, as she gives each child what is appropriate to his condition. This illustrates the principle—inner equality with appropriate outer action.
To reach this state, one must embark on an antaryātrā (inner journey) through dhyāna, dhāraṇā, and samādhi. For this, it is helpful to choose a ramaṇīya sthāna (a pleasant, and conducive place) that supports concentration and inner stillness.
yogī yuñjīta satatam, ātmānaṃ(m) rahasi sthitaḥ,
ekākī yatacittātmā, nirāśīraparigrahaḥ. 6.10
Living in seclusion all by himself, the Yogī who has controlled his mind and body, and is free from desires and void of possessions, should constantly engage his mind in meditation.
Yatātmā is one who has brought the ātman (inner faculties) under discipline—or at least is sincerely striving to gain control over the citta (mind-stuff) and indriya (senses).
Nirāśī in the Gītā does not mean a person who is depressed or hopeless. Rather, it means one who is free from expectations (āśā) and cravings for results—one who does not depend on outcomes for inner peace.
It is true that apekṣā-bhaṅga (the breaking of expectations) brings sorrow. Therefore, by becoming nirāśī—free from binding expectations—one becomes less disturbed by such disappointments.
Jñāneśvar Mahārāj says:
Nirāśī in the Gītā does not mean a person who is depressed or hopeless. Rather, it means one who is free from expectations (āśā) and cravings for results—one who does not depend on outcomes for inner peace.
It is true that apekṣā-bhaṅga (the breaking of expectations) brings sorrow. Therefore, by becoming nirāśī—free from binding expectations—one becomes less disturbed by such disappointments.
Jñāneśvar Mahārāj says:
जे ते विश्वालंकाराचें विसुरे । जरी आहाती आनानें आकारें ।
तरी घडले एकचि भांगारें । परब्रह्में ॥६-९८॥
“viśva alaṅkāra-se vure, jari aneka āhati ākāre ghaḍale, eka bhaṅgāre parabrahma”
The entire world appears as if adorned with many forms and names, yet all of it is shaped from the one Parabrahman (Supreme Reality). Though it seems divided into many forms, in essence it is one undivided whole.
Bangles are worn on the hands, earrings in the ears, and toe rings on the toes—each piece of jewelry has its own place and function, even though all are made of the same gold. Similarly, this is Parabrahma-dṛṣṭi—the vision that recognizes one underlying reality. “āhāti jari aneka ākāra aneka”—though many forms appear different, they are all expressions of the same Parabrahman.
To truly perceive this oneness behind the diversity, one must undertake the antaryātrā (inner journey). The antaryātrā (inner journey) should be undertaken with the qualities of yatātmā, apekṣā-rahita, nirāśī, and aparigraha.
Parigraha means accumulation or saṅgraha (collecting and holding on). Where there is excessive accumulation, dhyāna (meditation) becomes difficult, as the manaḥ (mind) gets vicalita (disturbed) by attachments.
Aparigraha means freedom from such accumulation—being without possessiveness (saṅgraha-rahita). Therefore, a yogī chooses a place conducive to ekānta-sthiti (solitude), free from distractions and excessive possessions, where the mind can remain steady and focused.
In today’s world, ekānta (solitude) can often be found in the early morning, when everything is still and quiet. During this time, “ātmanam satataṁ yuñjan” — one who wishes to practice dhāraṇā, dhyāna, and samādhi, one who seeks to know the Self, and one who aspires for the darśana of the Paramātman within—should make use of such a time and place. He should then focus the manaḥ (mind) inward, into the antaraṅga. Since the mind tends to wander, it must be gently brought back again and again and refocused. This is like a mother who lovingly brings her child back when it runs in different directions.
This refocusing can be on saguṇa-sākāra Paramātma-tattva (the divine with form and attributes), or it can be centered on the breath through prāṇāyāma.
Jñāneśvar Mahārāj also describes the awakening of kuṇḍalinī (kuṇḍalinī-jāgr̥ti) which will be discussed in the next session.
Questions and Answers
1. Kumar Reshami ji
Doubt from the seventh adhyāya. What is the meaning of adhibhūta and adhirāja.
Answer
These words may appear difficult. Bhūta means “bhavanti iti bhūtaḥ”—that which is made from the pañca-mahābhūta (five great elements): pṛthvī (earth), āp (water), tejas (fire), vāyu (air), and ākāśa (space). We are all made from these. We think we are the body, and our bodies—all cara-acara (moving and unmoving beings)—are made from these elements.
Adhibhūta means that which is within the bhūtas. Adhi means “within” or “inside.” The saṁsāra (world), which is perishable and subject to destruction, has its origin in the bhūta (the elements).
Daiva means the Paramātman’s (Paramātmā’s) ananta śaktis (infinite powers) which run this saṁsāra (world). These śaktis are called devatās—for example, Varuṇa-devatā, Lakṣmī-devī, and Gaṇeśa-devatā. All these śaktis are in the Paramātman and are created from Him.
Yajña means the principle or cause of this sṛṣṭi (creation) functioning in an organized (saṅghatita) way. That yajña is Him (Bhagavān).
These are the three levels of Paramātma:
Adhibhūta — that which is subject to destruction, like this saṁsāra (world).
Adhidaiva — the divine śakti (power) that governs and sustains creation.
Adhiyajña — the root cause who runs this saṁsāra as a yajña (sacred order or cosmic process).
One who has recognized Him, even at the time of leaving this body, has his citta (mind) attached to the Paramātma.
2. Debashish ji
What is the difference between Jñāna and Vijñāna?
Answer
Jñāna — theoretical knowledge, information, scriptural understanding, or intellectual awareness. It can also refer to ātma-jñāna (knowledge of the Self).
Vijñāna — practical knowledge, experience, worldly knowledge, direct realization, or practical inner experience of what is known through jñāna.
The meaning will differ depending on the reference in which they are being used.
Question 2
Are knowledge and intellect the same?
Answer
We grasp knowledge with our intellect. But it cannot give anubhūti (realization).
The session ended by offering the service rendered at the lotus feet of Bhagavān the followed by Hanuman Chalisa recitation.
The entire world appears as if adorned with many forms and names, yet all of it is shaped from the one Parabrahman (Supreme Reality). Though it seems divided into many forms, in essence it is one undivided whole.
Bangles are worn on the hands, earrings in the ears, and toe rings on the toes—each piece of jewelry has its own place and function, even though all are made of the same gold. Similarly, this is Parabrahma-dṛṣṭi—the vision that recognizes one underlying reality. “āhāti jari aneka ākāra aneka”—though many forms appear different, they are all expressions of the same Parabrahman.
To truly perceive this oneness behind the diversity, one must undertake the antaryātrā (inner journey). The antaryātrā (inner journey) should be undertaken with the qualities of yatātmā, apekṣā-rahita, nirāśī, and aparigraha.
Parigraha means accumulation or saṅgraha (collecting and holding on). Where there is excessive accumulation, dhyāna (meditation) becomes difficult, as the manaḥ (mind) gets vicalita (disturbed) by attachments.
Aparigraha means freedom from such accumulation—being without possessiveness (saṅgraha-rahita). Therefore, a yogī chooses a place conducive to ekānta-sthiti (solitude), free from distractions and excessive possessions, where the mind can remain steady and focused.
In today’s world, ekānta (solitude) can often be found in the early morning, when everything is still and quiet. During this time, “ātmanam satataṁ yuñjan” — one who wishes to practice dhāraṇā, dhyāna, and samādhi, one who seeks to know the Self, and one who aspires for the darśana of the Paramātman within—should make use of such a time and place. He should then focus the manaḥ (mind) inward, into the antaraṅga. Since the mind tends to wander, it must be gently brought back again and again and refocused. This is like a mother who lovingly brings her child back when it runs in different directions.
This refocusing can be on saguṇa-sākāra Paramātma-tattva (the divine with form and attributes), or it can be centered on the breath through prāṇāyāma.
Jñāneśvar Mahārāj also describes the awakening of kuṇḍalinī (kuṇḍalinī-jāgr̥ti) which will be discussed in the next session.
Questions and Answers
1. Kumar Reshami ji
Doubt from the seventh adhyāya. What is the meaning of adhibhūta and adhirāja.
Answer
These words may appear difficult. Bhūta means “bhavanti iti bhūtaḥ”—that which is made from the pañca-mahābhūta (five great elements): pṛthvī (earth), āp (water), tejas (fire), vāyu (air), and ākāśa (space). We are all made from these. We think we are the body, and our bodies—all cara-acara (moving and unmoving beings)—are made from these elements.
Adhibhūta means that which is within the bhūtas. Adhi means “within” or “inside.” The saṁsāra (world), which is perishable and subject to destruction, has its origin in the bhūta (the elements).
Daiva means the Paramātman’s (Paramātmā’s) ananta śaktis (infinite powers) which run this saṁsāra (world). These śaktis are called devatās—for example, Varuṇa-devatā, Lakṣmī-devī, and Gaṇeśa-devatā. All these śaktis are in the Paramātman and are created from Him.
Yajña means the principle or cause of this sṛṣṭi (creation) functioning in an organized (saṅghatita) way. That yajña is Him (Bhagavān).
These are the three levels of Paramātma:
Adhibhūta — that which is subject to destruction, like this saṁsāra (world).
Adhidaiva — the divine śakti (power) that governs and sustains creation.
Adhiyajña — the root cause who runs this saṁsāra as a yajña (sacred order or cosmic process).
One who has recognized Him, even at the time of leaving this body, has his citta (mind) attached to the Paramātma.
2. Debashish ji
What is the difference between Jñāna and Vijñāna?
Answer
Jñāna — theoretical knowledge, information, scriptural understanding, or intellectual awareness. It can also refer to ātma-jñāna (knowledge of the Self).
Vijñāna — practical knowledge, experience, worldly knowledge, direct realization, or practical inner experience of what is known through jñāna.
The meaning will differ depending on the reference in which they are being used.
Question 2
Are knowledge and intellect the same?
Answer
We grasp knowledge with our intellect. But it cannot give anubhūti (realization).
The session ended by offering the service rendered at the lotus feet of Bhagavān the followed by Hanuman Chalisa recitation.
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