Commentary on the Bhagavadgita

by Swami Krishnananda

The impulsion to act arises due to the compulsion of prakriti’s modes, which always revolve and rotate in a cyclic fashion. Like the incessant movement of the spokes of a wheel in motion, the gunas of prakriti – sattva, rajas and tamas – keep perpetually moving and never resting. Inasmuch as everybody – myself, yourself, and all things – is constituted of these essentials of prakriti, the mutation which prakriti perpetually undergoes has a direct impact upon our individual existence, and we also undergo the same mutation. Whether we want to or not, we are forced to act in a particular direction. The whole point is: In what direction we are acting?

Action by itself is something like electricity, which is neither a good thing nor a bad thing. Action is a kind of impulsion in some given direction. The effect that action will produce depends upon the direction of the action. The direction depends upon the reason and the mind of a particular individual conditioning the movement – just as a driver steers the vehicle in a given direction though the engine does not know the direction in which the driver is making it go. Prakriti is like an engine which moves; therefore, when it moves, everything also moves, but the direction in which it moves depends upon the intelligence of the driver. In the case of the individual, it is the reason or the understanding – the viveka shakti – that is responsible for the direction.

The direction can be twofold. It can be a movement away from the centre or it can be a movement towards the centre. All movements away from the centre are called centrifugal movements. All movements in the direction or towards the centre are called centripetal movements. Our activities, our works, our performances of any kind may take us away from ourselves more and more, or they may bring us nearer and nearer to our own selves. That is to say, our works and deeds in this world may be either integrating or disintegrating. When we do work, we may feel tired and exhausted and feel we have had enough of everything; or we may feel energy, enthusiasm, and we would like to do more work. The energy comes from the integrating faculty operating behind our action. Our soul is the centre of everything. The more is the force exerted by our soul, the greater is the integration that is taking place in our action; it is a cohesive, harmonious action in which we get involved. But if the soul is practically dead, as it is in most people, the sense organs take the upper hand; and instead of the soul motivating the direction of the action, the sense organs start controlling the movement, and they pull us out of ourselves.

The sense organs have only one work: to take us out of ourselves and place us somewhere where we are not. That is to say, we are compelled by the sense organs to be continuously conscious of something which is not ourselves; and the more we are conscious of an object, the less we are conscious of ourselves. There is a loss of Self. This is called atma-hana in the Ishavasya Upanishad. Asurya nama te loka andhena tamasa vritah, tams te pretyabhigachhanti ye ke catmahano janah (Isa 3). The killers of the Self, as the Isavasya Upanishad puts it, are those people who ignore the very existence of the Self by not being conscious of its existence, and the role it plays in their life and in the direction of their actions; they depend entirely on the impulses of the eyes and the ears and the sentiments or the feelings engendered by the power of the sense organs.

Here is the foundation or the anatomy of what we call action – individually, as well as cosmically. As I mentioned, there is a cosmic action taking place like the engine of a vehicle which does not know in which direction it is going. Prakriti is not concerned with the direction that we take in our action. It propels us to act, and we may go this way or that way. The direction that we take depends upon our intelligence – buddhi sarathi. In the Kathopanishad, our intelligence is called sarathi. Like Sri Krishna acting as the charioteer for Arjuna who was in the chariot, the buddhi, or the intelligence in us, acts as the charioteer in this chariot of the body, of which the rider is the jiva; this is the image that we have in the Kathopanishad.

Now, having said all this, we go to the great injunction of the Bhagavadgita: karmanye vadhikaras te ma phaleshu kadacana, ma karma-phala-hetur bhur ma te sango’stv akarmani (2.47). Our duty is to act – that is karman yevadhi kara – but we have no right to expect any result or particular fruit to accrue from our action. From a cursory point of view, this looks like a very hard teaching, like a cruel employer telling the labourer to work hard without expecting any wages. But does God say that we should go on working and He will give us nothing? God is not a cruel master. The principle behind the obligatory duty incumbent upon every individual is the involvement of every individual in the structure of the universe, to which I made reference when I explained what Sankhya is. The whole universe is one single body, of which the limbs are the modes of prakriti, and of which the soul is the all-pervading purusha: yena sarvam idam tatam (2.17).

Now, why is it that we should act? And why is it that we should not expect the fruits of action? This will be clear to us if we analyse the reason behind our action, and the reason why the fruits will not accrue as we desire. Our actions are obligatory on our part on account of our involvement in this psychophysical organism which is controlled by the movement of the gunas of prakriti; therefore, as long as prakriti moves, as long as the gunas rotate and revolve in this cosmical process of creation and evolution, for that long we also will be involved in that action. So our activity is a participation in the universal action of prakriti; we are not acting independently. The Sankhya knowledge – which we have had an insight into earlier – tells us that, individually, we do not have any kind of prerogative because we are an organic part of the whole structure of prakriti, of which the ruling principle is the purusha.

Therefore, work is a must. We have to do; we have to act. But why is it that we do not get the result that we expect? The answer to this question is not in the Second Chapter. The answer is in a verse which is in the Eighteenth Chapter: adhisthanam tatha karta karanam ca prithag-vidham, vividhas ca prithak cesta daivam caivatra pancamam (18.14). When we do something, we have a very narrow notion of what result will follow from our action. The narrow notion arises on account of our limitation to body and social conditions, and our completely ignoring our cosmical relation. The fruit accrues according to the sanction of the involvement of ourselves in the cosmic structure, notwithstanding the fact that we have individually, so-called, initiated the action. The action that we perform is not a stereotyped movement in a very simple manner, as we think. All action is very complicated. It involves many factors. When we take a morsel of food, how many organs in our body act? It is not just that we throw something and it goes into the pit. The entire organism rises up into action. Even if it is only one raisin that we are putting into our mouth, the entire mechanism starts acting. Similarly, any action that we perform sets into motion the whole rotation of prakriti, and it will act and react according to its laws.

The physical body is the adhisthana that is spoken of. The limitations of the physical body are also the limitations of our action. We cannot work like elephants. We can work only to the extent that the frail human body permits. There are many weaknesses as far as our physical body is concerned, and those weaknesses diminish the effect of the action that we perform. Hence, the adhisthana, or the physical lodgement of our consciousness, limits the effect of the action to that extent.

Karta is the ego principle. When we do an action, the ego asserts itself in a particular manner. The manner in which the ego acts at the time of the performance of an action is entirely dependent on the desire which it has at the subconscious level or the conscious level, and the direction of the action will be motivated by the desires that are implicit. The ego is nothing but a bundle of desires. It has latent desires as well as expressed desires. So when it acts, it will act either for the fulfilment of a very obvious desire, or it will have a far-fetched future thought of the possibility of fulfilling some latent desire. This will be a restriction on the nature of the fruit that accrues because the restriction is nothing but the limitation of our desire. We cannot desire everything; we have only petty desires. Our desires are so small and so weak that the limitation of the desires, which condition the action of the ego, is another limitation, apart from the limitation of the physical body.

Karta karanam ca prithag-vidham. The instruments of action also limit our action. What are the tools we employ? A spade, a pickaxe, a gun, a hand or a foot are the instruments that we use. The limitations set by the instruments are also the limitations of our action. Vividhas ca prithak cesta: There are various other distractions in the mind at the time of performing an action. The mind is not very clear. Nobody’s mind is very clear at the time of performing an action because there is suspicion and doubt; there is a fear of not succeeding, or that the right step has not been taken, or that it is not the proper thing at the proper time. These kinds of distractions also limit our action.

Vividhas ca prithak cesta daivam caivatra pancamam. The last trump card that the Lord places before us is that the will of the Supreme Being is final. At the time of creation, the Supreme Being willed what kind of universe it has to be; and that kind of universe will be characterised by certain abilities to provide us with the fruits of whatever kind they be. Therefore, we cannot expect something more or less than what is available under the conditions of this particular universe willed by Hiranyagarbha or Isvara. Whatever be our individual will, it is prompted finally by the Ultimate Will. Though we may will a particular action, we cannot will the particular manner in which we will it.

It is said that a right action should be judged from four angles of vision. Firstly, the intention in doing a thing should be justifiable. We should not have an objectionable intention behind our action. Secondly, the consequence that may follow from our action should also be justifiable. Thirdly, the very reason behind our intention – why we developed this intention to do a particular action – has a reason behind it which is superior to our psychological intention, and that also has to be justifiable. Finally, it should not harm any person. If our action does some harm to somebody, knowingly or unknowingly, it will have a reaction.

Actions done either knowingly or unknowingly will both produce some reaction. Many times we feel that we have made a mistake unknowingly and, therefore, we should be pardoned. The law does not seem to think exactly the same way. There are one or two interesting stories in the Mahabharata and the Puranas. There was king who had many cattle, and in that country there was a Brahmin who had only one cow. One day it so happened that the Brahmin’s cow strayed into the herd of cattle which belonged to the king. As was the custom of ancient rulers, charity of cattle and gold were given to people every day. One day the king gave some cattle in charity to a Brahmin, and it so happened that this stray cow was included. The Brahmin was leading this cow which was a gift from the king, and on the way the real owner came to know about it. He said, “This is my cow. Why are you taking it?” The reply was, “I don’t know anything. It was given to me by the king.” The Brahmin went to the king and asked, “Why did you give my cow as a gift to somebody else?” The king said, “I did not know that it was your cow. I never knew that your cow had strayed. Don’t get angry with me. I will give you one thousand cows; don’t worry about this cow.” The Brahmin replied, “I do not want one thousand cows. I want only my cow.” It became a great predicament because the Brahmin who got the gift would not give it back. He said, “King, you have given it to me. Are you going back on your word?”

It is said that this peculiar moral crisis in which the king found himself made him a lizard in the next birth. What terrible punishment is this! That lizard was rescued, afterwards. This story is found in the Bhagavata. Sri Krishna touched the lizard, and it once again became the king.

There is also the story of Mandavya, the great sage. He was sitting in a corner, meditating. One day there was a theft in the treasury of the king. The priests and the army started searching for the culprit, and the thieves who took the treasure ran helter-skelter. Finally they became afraid of being caught so they threw away the stolen treasure, and it happened to land near the sage who was meditating. The army found it and concluded that the sage was the thief. They dragged him away and brought him before the king. The king said, “Impale him, immediately.” In those days the king was the only judge, and he could pass any sentence. They impaled the sage on a spear.

Mandavya was hanging there, but because of the great power of his meditation he did not die. Finally his soul went to Yama, and he asked Yama, “For what wrong action of mine have you punished me with impalement? To my knowledge, I have never done any wrong action in my life. How has this kind of punishment been meted out to me? You have made some mistake!”

Yama replied, “You cannot recollect. When you were a child, you took a little broomstick and pierced a fly. Therefore, you have been pierced.” “When did I do it?” asked the sage. “You were about eleven years old.” “Oh! You are punishing me for having done something without the knowledge that it was wrong. I was an innocent child. I did not know anything.”

“Innocent or not innocent, the law acts!”

Then, it is said, Mandavya furiously cursed the law and changed it so that in future, from that day onwards, no punishment would be meted out to anybody for a mistake that was committed before the age of fourteen years. This is Mandavya’s rule. Today there are judges to decide these cases. Anyway, the law of karma is very intricate: gahana karmano gatih (4.17).