Commentary on the Katha Upanishad

by Swami Krishnananda

How can the individual exceed himself, transcend his personality; how can man become God? This section is important for the seeker.

Section one was an introduction: Nachiketas’ position. In the second, we studied the philosophy: the existence of the Supreme Being. In the third, we are going to deal with sadhana.

Two Selves

ṛtam pibantau sukṛtasya loke guhᾱm praviṣṭau parame parᾱrdhe,
chᾱyᾱ-tapau brahma-vido vadanti, pañcᾱgnayo ye ca tri-ṇᾱciketᾱḥ. (1)

The language of this mantra is typically Vedic, and so is the style; it does not convey an intelligible meaning on the surface. The Upanishads borrow from the Vedas, especially from the spirit of the samhita.

We have heard of these two selves in mystical texts. In the Mundakopanishad, we also read about them: ‘Two birds are in the selfsame tree’; something like that is said there. But here, they are: “Two selves, lodged in the same cave, the secret place, the chief seat of the Supreme, enjoying the fruits of meritorious deeds—these two that are hidden, are like light and shadow to the knowers of Brahman who perform the panchagni sacrifice, and also to the tenders of the Nachiketas fire.”

You have seen the damaru of Lord Shiva. It is like two triangles, touching one another at their apexes, wide in their base and narrow in their waist or central point, one kept upside down. Philosophically and spiritually, this symbol is a great mystery. Jiva and Shiva are both mystically united, as it were, in this combination of the two sections of the damaru. You can say it is like the original and its reflection in an unruffled water surface.

The figure looks upward in the reflection. Man is the opposite of God in every way. Whatever God is, man is the opposite. In the process of creation, there is a topsy-turvy action: God thinks, and the world is. But in our case, the objects are, and we think of them. The highest evolute in creation is mahat. Then comes ahankara; then the tanmatras and then, at last, the five elements. But to us, the five elements come first. And as the world affects our thinking and perception, we are slaves of it, while God is its Master. The jiva is enslaved by avidya, but ishvara controls maya. The latter is universal, the former is particularised. While there is omniscience in maya, there is sleep in avidya. Ishvara is sarvajna, All-Knowing. The jiva is alpajna, knowing little. Ishvara is Sarva Shaktiman; the jiva is alpashaktiman. Ishvara is sarvantaryamin while the jiva is akadesika. This is the Puranic symbology of the damaru. It is also of great significance in tantric lore. Heaven and earth, spirit and matter, are these inverted triangles, as also the difference between the supreme Subjectivity and objectivity.

Thus, the two contravening birds hidden in the cave of the heart, ishvaratva and jivatva, are possible in the same being. The former is markedly distinguished from the latter, even as the original from the reflection. What is the distinction? Though the outer form is the same, the reflection is without reality. The things of the world are not substantial, just like a motion picture, where many rapidly moving pictures make a standing man on the cinema screen. He stands there due to the inability of our senses and mind to keep pace with the velocity of the pictures’ movements. We are unable to catch up with the constituents of the objects, and hence we see the solid world. The Buddha is a great exponent of this non-substantiality of things. “Transient is the world,” he said.

Rapid motion causes the object to look static. The world is an illusion because it is different from what it appears to be. It is a reflection and has no substantiality. It is this contrast between the original and the reflection that is brought out in this verse.

The jivatma and paramatma lodged in the same place are different like light and shade, proclaim the knowers of Brahman and those who know the five fires and the Nachiketas sacrifice, thrice performed. The two are the divine and human element in us. Our animal part is not considered here. It is taken for granted that we have risen above it. Human nature often gets contaminated by sub-human instincts. Our passions, whatever they be—intellectual, mental, sensual—are not human, but animalistic, and blur the human nature. The divine element comes into play occasionally, in times of inspiration. In its lowest form, it is conscience. In its higher one, it is spiritual; and in the highest it is the Atman. But the senses speak loudly, and so the voice of conscience gets drowned. Therefore, says the Upanishad, it cannot be known except by those who perform the panchagni fire: a purification of the sun, the rain, earth, man and woman. These are the five stages of manifestation, and thus the means of expression of creation.

The Buddha also compares the world to fire, the senses are fire, the eyes are fire, and so on. By fire he means desire. The whole world is a burning pit of fire.

Mystically, all objects are only formations of the five elements and can be reduced to them. When they assume the manifold forms of objects, the senses get heated up and run towards them. Even with the panchagni sacrifice, the five senses are still kept alive by the fivefold object elements. The method of overcoming this conflagration is another fire: the Nachiketas sacrifice, the divine vaishvanara-agni. When It consumes the stages of our own being—the physical, astral and causal levels—when this sacrifice is done thrice, we become a universal lustre or radiance, the same radiance that was shown by Sri Krishna to Arjuna. Thus, the universal fire is one of the two beings (divine), and the sensory is the other (human). They are the spiritual and the sensual, the universal and the individual, the divine and the human.

Though we have worldly enjoyments, we are restless. This unrest is due to the call of the divine within, the higher Being working in us always, though the lower tries to cloud our vision, on account of which we remain individuals. The higher fire is a glorious light before which the lower one is like shade.

yas setur ījᾱnᾱnᾱm akṣaram brahma yat param,
abhayam titīrṣatᾱm pᾱram nᾱciketaṁ śakemahi. (2)

“This universal fire of Nachiketas is like a bridge between the higher and the lower. This vaishvanara yajna is verily a jnana yajna of the soul, the way of the individual’s entry into Brahman. Fearless it is and also the means for all those who wish to cross samsara.”

Here alone our restlessness ceases. It is called the junction between virat and Brahman. From multiple-consciousness, we have to go to Oneness. Whether we walk or fly, we have to pass every place on the way, though in sadyo-mukti the passing is so quick that you are not aware of it, like the hundred petals passed through by a needle in one moment, and yet each petal has been passed. It is a gradual ascent of the soul from the lower to the higher.

The Parable of the Chariot

ᾱtmᾱnaṁ rathinaṁ viddhi, śarīraṁ rathameva tu:
buddhiṁ tu sᾱradhiṁ viddhi, manaḥ pragraham eva ca. (3)

Who is capable of performing this sacrifice? It is like the soul driving a chariot towards the supreme destination of Brahman. While It is the goal, vaishvanara is the bridge, the world is the location from where we have to start, and what kind of effort we have to put forth will be said in the following mantras.

We have here the symbology of a chariot, yoked to horses that are controlled by a driver, and having wheels and a road. Plato also describes this vehicle: Two horses pull it, a good one and a bad one; one moving properly, the other one is restless and impetuous. These two are the higher and lower impulses working in us.

We meet the chariot symbol quite often in the mystical literature of this world. There is a reference to it in the Bhagavadgita, too. Sometimes, the whole creation is regarded as a chariot.

In this mantra, “The soul within the chariot is the rider; the body is the chariot. The charioteer is the intellect or reason. The mind is like reigns with which the horses are connected to the chariot.”

indriyᾱṇi hayᾱn ᾱhur viṣayᾱṁs teṣu gocarᾱn,
ᾱtmendriya-mano-yuktam bhoktety ᾱhur manīṣiṇaḥ. (4)

“The senses are the horses, the objects are the roads along which the chariot is driven; the self, associated with the body, the senses and the mind—the wise say—is the enjoyer.”

This gives us an idea how our senses are connected to objects of the world. The purpose of the chariot’s movement is to reach the destination for its rider. But the chariot is only a help, and the driver must be intelligent and know the course. The Atman, in combination with the body, the indriyas and manas, is a karta, doer, and bhokta, enjoyer. Minus the intellect, we are karta and bhokta.

The buddhi is carefully omitted when the enjoyer is described, because in enjoyment, the intellect is not necessary. The mind and senses work together in the lower stage, the mind merely playing second fiddle to what they say and not being independent. The independence belongs to the intellect or charioteer. Where it is lacking, moha is created and we go after things. When the light of the soul, bereft of intelligence, works through the mind and senses, there is samsara. But we have also the higher intellect which should guide us throughout. The correlation of it and the chariot is described in the next mantras.

There should not be any kind of discord between the two. The reigns should not break; the chariot should not crash. The Atman is essential, the body is essential; the senses are essential as motive power; but only blended with the intellect they make a beautiful combination.

yas tv avijñᾱnavᾱn bhavaty ayuktena manasᾱ sadᾱ,
tasyendriyᾱṇy avaśyᾱni duṣṭᾱśvᾱ iva sᾱratheḥ. (5)

“One who has no understanding, whose mind is unrestrained, cannot control the senses and will be like a person driving the chariot with wicked horses.”

Suppose the horses of a chariot are not controlled, one horse trying to take it to the ditch or retard the progress, while the other one is good, there will be no harmony. There is always a tension in us between the higher and lower. And just as a person will not reach his destination if a horse is not good, a seeker whose intellect is clouded cannot control the senses and does not move along the right path.

yas tu vijñᾱnavᾱn bhavati, yuktena manasᾱ sadᾱ,
tasyendriyᾱṇi vaśyᾱni sadaśvᾱ iva sᾱratheḥ. (6)

“But the reverse is the case of that person whose horses are good and well-trained, and when the charioteer is capable of understanding.”

In this case the reigns are never let off and the movement of the chariot is proper in its course.

yas tv avijñᾱnavᾱn bhavaty amanaskas sadᾱ’śuciḥ
na sa tat padam ᾱpnoti saṁsᾱraṁ cᾱdhigacchati. (7)

“If the driver of the chariot is bereft of understanding, his mind is ever impure, the goal is never reached and the chariot is hurled down. A person without self-control enters the womb of samsara.”

When the senses move among objects as their road, they do not know which course to pursue. If a charioteer without intelligence comes to a crossroad, he does not know which way to choose. Or if the horses go amuck, we can imagine the fate of the chariot and its rider. The objects are many, though the elements which constitute them are only five. There is a tremendous excitement of the senses when they behold the colourful world of objects. We begin to see through them rather than the intellect, and since they are diversified, we are presented a diversified world of which we do not know what to choose. Thus, without intelligence, there is restless activity.

yas tu vijñᾱnavᾱn bhavati samanaskas sadᾱ śuciḥ,
sa tu tat padam ᾱpnoti yasmᾱt bhῡyo na jᾱyate. (8)

“He whose senses are controlled and whose intellect is purified; he does not come back.”

Are the roads really many, or is it one, is the question. The roads are many to the senses, but to the purified intellect it is one. The one road is hiranyagarbha, or vaishvanara, in whom everything gets melted and all roads meet. The diversified activities of the senses can stop only when the Unity behind them is beheld, which is not possible without self-withdrawal through intelligence. The five roads merge into a single one. If five horses tied to the same chariot run in different directions, what will happen to the chariot? On the other hand, if they all move in one direction—what will be their power!

vijñᾱnasᾱrathir yastu manaḥ pragrahavᾱn naraḥ,
so’dhvanaḥ param ᾱpnoti tad viṣṇoḥ paramam padam. (9)

“A person who has intelligence as the charioteer, whose mind acts as reigns, he reaches the final destination of the path, which is the supreme state of God.”

The last quarter of mantra nine is borrowed from the Rig Veda. It says that the state of Vishnu is beheld by the wise ones as the state of all-pervading ether. The place of Vishnu is not a location or palace. It is spread out like ether or space, like the ocean. The river is everywhere when it reaches the ocean and does not remain localised in one place. Likewise is the soul when it reaches vishnupada. The Universal Being is Vishnu. The moment a jiva reaches his destination, he enters vishnupada. Therefore the body is to be utilised as a vehicle of action in the movement of the soul to God.

There is nothing wrong with our senses, mind, etc., but they should be directed properly. Evil is that which is misdirected. A thing is not evil in itself, but when it performs another’s function it is evil, just as anything out of place is dirt. So everything should be in its proper place and yoked properly. The world is a training-ground in which the objects and senses are occasions for mastering our energies so that they get unified through the senses, mind and intellect. We look weak because all our energies leak out through the senses. If you conserve your health and concentrate your effort in a single channel, it is called dharana. This will make you powerful; this is yoga. By the control of the senses, the mind and the intellect, the soul becomes fit for God-realisation.

After this description, another aspect is being discussed. How are you to subdue the senses? How is the charioteer to control the horses? They are mad for objects! What steps are we to take?

This difficult effort on the part of the soul is called indriya-samyama or manonigraha. It is summed up in the two following slokas.

The Order of Progression to The Supreme

indriyebhyaḥ parᾱ hy arthᾱ, arthebhyaś ca param manaḥ,
manasaś ca parᾱ buddhir buddher ᾱtmᾱ mahᾱn paraḥ. (10)

“Beyond the senses are the objects, beyond them is the mind, beyond the mind is the intellect, beyond the intellect is the Cosmic Mind which is hiranyagarbha.”

mahataḥ param avyaktam, avyaktᾱt puruṣaḥ paraḥ
puruṣᾱn na paraṁ kiñcit: sᾱ kᾱṣṭhᾱ sᾱ parᾱ gatiḥ. (11)

“Beyond hiranyagarbha, the great Self, is mulaprakriti, the Unmanifest, beyond It is the purusha, the Spirit; and beyond the purusha, there is nothing.”

What do we see? The world of objects. The senses see objects and move towards them. They see only the forms which are called objects and do not understand that there is something behind them. So they are running towards them, thinking that there is something in the object which they themselves lack. Looked at in this way, objects are superior to the senses. But we do not want objects; we want to enjoy their colour, taste, touch etc. Thus, a distinction has to be drawn between objects and their qualities or essence, or substance. These subtle essences, hidden in the objects, are superior to them. The senses want not the objects, but the characteristics hidden in them. The objects are not really the centre of desire. They are only a vehicle which holds the counterpart to our interest. We therefore want to utilise objects as agents for our satisfaction.

The most important of all characteristics in the world is restlessness. Whatever be the state in which we are, we are going from one change to another. This indicates that there is something seriously wrong in this world. We are like a person walking on one leg, or riding a cycle with one wheel. It can stand as long as it moves, and when it does not move, it falls. There is only ‘becoming’ everywhere, and there is no ‘being’. Our whole life is activity, not existence. This intention to act, this process of movement throughout one’s life, indicates that there is an urge of our being towards something, like the flowing of a river to the ocean. The river moves, and its movement ceases when it reaches the ocean. Not only we change; everything in the world changes: the world is transient; the world is restless; the world is in motion—it is all the same thing said in different terms. An imperfection, or lack, characterises the whole world of creation. Its motion, the velocity of objects, is what gives appearance or shape or existence to it. Things do not exist, but pass. This state of affairs is the cause of our unhappiness. We cannot find peace with ourselves because we have not achieved our end. What that end is, is the purport of mantras ten and eleven.

Beyond the drop is the stream; beyond the stream is the rivulet; beyond the rivulet is the river; and beyond the river is the ocean. There is nothing beyond the ocean. This is what these mantras say. Beyond the senses is the essence of the tanmatras; beyond them is the mind; beyond it is the intellect; beyond it is the virat; beyond It is hiranyagarbha; beyond It is ishvara or avyakta; beyond which is the purusha, and beyond the purusha there is nothing. The smaller tends towards the larger which is its source. The effect moves towards its cause. That from which a thing has come attracts it, like a mother attracts her children. Planets cling to the sun because they are parts of it. All things in the world tend towards the immediately greater. There is a cause behind a cause until a causeless cause is reached, which we are in search of and which we have not yet seen.

The causeless Cause is not part of the chain of cause and effect; it is different. The ocean of the world is limited, but this Ocean is not only outside the things that flow, but also within. While the ocean is at one end of the river, this Ocean is everywhere. God calls us at all places in the world, not merely in the temples and churches. His presence is not only at one end of the world, in heaven. He is everywhere. He is the purusha. That is the final destination beyond which there is nothing. When you reach the purusha, something mystrious takes place. There is a tremendous difference between one thing reaching another thing, and the reaching of Him. No unusual occurrence can be noticed until the purusha is reached; there is only an ascent till then. But when you touch the last rung of the ladder, when the river enters the ocean of being, something strange takes place: it enters That which it was even before.