BHAGAVAD GITA: C-C R (Cross-Cultural Reflections)

CHAPTER I

Viśāda Yoga

Yoga of Arjuna’s Despondency.

Armies are confronting each other ready to do battle, and Arjuna’s reluctance to fight.

1.1.1 In the dharma-field, in the Kuru-field,

Gathered and eager to fight,

My own men and the Pāṇḍavās,

What are they doing, oh Sañjaya?

The Bhagavad-Gītā is a chapter in the grand epic Mahābhārata, which treats of many themes, recounts many events, and refers to many episodes from India’s sacred history. The central thread of this longest epic in world literature is the rivalry between two families of cousins: the noble Pāṇḍavās and the ignoble Kauravas.

The conflict between the forces of good and the forces of evil is the motif in many epics. In many works, as in Greek and Babylonian myths, as also in the Indic Purāṇas, the manifestations of good and evil are mythic beings, but in others they are earthly ones, men and women like the rest of us. John Locke put it this way: “Good and evil, reward and punishment, are the only motives to a rational creature: these are the spur and reins whereby all mankind are set on work, and guided.”

In the Mahābhārata, which is not without its supernatural elements, Pāṇḍavās and Kauravas, though endowed with superhuman strengths, are still very human. Thus, the Gītā tells us, not about wars between demons and angels or asuras and devas, but about the perennial struggles that are part of human history.

Then again, Pāṇḍavās and Kauravas are not strangers, but cousins. The French thinker François Fénelon wrote: “Toutes les guerres sont civiles; car c’est toujours l’homme contre l’homme qui répand son propre sang, qui déchire ses propres entrailles”: (All wars are civil wars, for it is always man spilling his own blood, and tearing his own guts). So is the war in the Mahābhārata;: it is between kith and kin.

The first word in the Gītā is dharma: a term that is as untranslatable into English as the term filibuster is into Sanskrit. Dharma has been variously translated as duty, religion, and righteousness. The word is derived from a Sanskrit root word meaning to support. Etymologically, therefore, we may take dharma to mean a framework in which one is at peace with oneself and with the world around. It also refers to what one should do to achieve this. Thus, dharma is what one ought to do, whereas karma is what one does. If and when, in a person’s life, karma and dharma coincide, that would be ideal. The sheer simplicity in this ethical, religious, philosophical concept is remarkable.

Inner peace and harmony with the world around are not easy to achieve, but they are what most sane and healthy people strive for. The Gītā offers pointers towards them even as it reveals much about the human condition. When it refers to the field of dharma, it could be taken as referring to ourselves. But it adds right away the field of the Kurus, which includes both Pāṇḍavās and their current enemies, the Kauravas. This suggests that our physical existence is the field of both healthy and unhealthy forces.

This is why many commentators interpret the Battle of Kurukshetra not as a historical encounter between enemies on a battle-field, but as symbolic of the ethical tug human beings often experience. Gandhi accepted this interpretation. Some enlightened Muslims of our times interpret the jihad of their tradition in similar terms. In these instances, we see how ancient religious texts may be given different interpretations. Non-literal interpretations can be more meaningful, and free us from untenable doctrines of the past. Interpretations of texts depend on the context where they are applied, the goals for which they are meant, and on the personal philosophy of interpreters.

The blind king Dhrithirāshtra asks helplessly, “What are they doing?” As we, in our state of ignorance and confusion may be wondering: What are we doing in the context of ethical confrontations? This ancient truth is illustrated in the behavior of the Kauravas in the epic, as of so many throughout history. In reminders this like this, we recognize why the Gītā embodies perennial truths. Like the laws of nature, there are aspects of the human mind and heart that transcend age and culture, religion and nationality, even periods of history.

Dhritarāshtra is blind and can’t see. Sañjaya has eyes with which he can see events occurring at a distance, ears with which he can hear conversations far away. We realize that our eyes and ears may not always be helpful in what they are meant for. In Mark (8:18), we read: “Do you have eyes but fail to see, and ears but fail to hear?” On occasions, eyes and ears may also do much more than what they normally do. We are all Dhritarāshtras sometimes and Sañjaya’000s at other times. With an appropriate Sañjaya, even a Dhritarāshtra can see and hear.

Note in passing that this is perhaps the first instance of a report of tele-vision (far-seeing) in literature.