Chapter 1	Ananda Marga Philosophy in a Nutshell Part 8 [a compilation]

There are many people who dislike hero-worship, and then again, there are many people who only say that they dislike it, although they actually do like it. It is an ingrained human trait that generally people do not have sufficient courage to undertake those tasks that require courage. But if someone takes the lead courageously, then others will cooperate. When a brave person comes forward, other people become brave due to his or her example. This is also an ingrained human trait. That is why whenever a righteous person undertakes a noble cause, honest people willingly extend their unstinting cooperation to him or her. Hero-worship of this sort is quite natural. If anyone opposes this natural thing, it should be understood that he or she suffers from a fear complex and criticizes hero-worship just to hide it.

Hero-worship does not necessarily mean, however, that whatever a great person does should be blindly supported. As previously said, when a virtuous person courageously undertakes a noble cause, it is but natural that other people will extend their support. It is a natural human trait.

We see in Párthasárathi an expression of [the qualities that elicit] that trait in a powerful way. He was a true representative of the hopes and aspirations of good people, that is, of people devoted to the Lord. Who is that entity who fulfils the hopes and aspirations of devoted people, of righteous and virtuous people (the hopes and aspirations of virtuous people generally are virtuous and good)? It is Parama Puruśa who does so. Párthasárathi stole the hearts and minds of people in the past and continues to do so today.

In my last discourse I was discussing Maháviśńuváda. I said that if the sparks coming out of the original fire merge again in their source it is not a matter of sorrow but a matter of joy. But if the sparks lose themselves forever in the yawning chasms of darkness, there cannot be any greater sorrow. This getting lost forever is termed prańásha [total annihilation] in Sanskrit. They are lost forever and cannot return to the original source.

In Párthasárathi’s teachings there is no mention whatsoever of this prańásha. Even regarding the most sinful people He said, Paritráńáya sádhúnáḿ vinásháya ca duśkrtám [“(I have come) for the protection of the virtuous and the destruction of the wicked”]. Here He talks of vinásha [destruction], not prańásha. What is the meaning of vinásha? It means a vishiśt́a [special] form of násha. And násha means change of form from an undeveloped form to a more developed one. In this process something is apparently destroyed, but actually is metamorphosed into something better. For example, the ugly silkworm, when it leaves its cocoon, is metamorphosed into a beautiful butterfly. The silkworm has not met its total annihilation but has simply undergone a change for the better. Vinásháya ca duśkrtáḿ [“for the destruction of the wicked”]. Párthasárathi never looked upon anyone as His enemy or as an object of hatred, not even the most wicked people. However, if people were antisocial, if they harmed others and became a cause of immense terror, He destroyed them. Why does this destruction occur? Not to send them to eternal darkness but to destroy the Ravana⁽¹⁾ in them, so that they could acquire a better human form.

Although Párthasárathi takes drastic action against the sinful, they have nothing to fear, for He will arrange a better human form for them. He has clearly said,

Paritráńáya sádhúnáḿ vinásháya ca duśkrtám;
Dharmasaḿsthápanártháya sambhavámi yuge yuge.⁽²⁾

[For the protection of the virtuous, the destruction of the wicked and the restoration of dharma, I incarnate Myself from age to age.]

Paritráńáya sádhúnáḿ means “for the protection of the virtuous”. First I will explain what the term sádhu really means. In popular Indian usage, sádhu means those persons who smear themselves with white ashes, keep locks of matted hair on their heads and wear white turbans and white clothes. The leader of a group of such sádhus is called a mohánta. Those who may or may not use coloured ashes (white, red, crimson, etc.), who wear either red or saffron turbans and clothes and who suffix their names with ánanda [bliss], are known as sannyásins [renunciants]. Sádhus on the other hand usually use the word dása [servant] together with their first name, such as Sumera Dása, Jiṋána Dása, Ráma Dása, etc. Their Indian or international leader is known as mahámańd́aleshvara, whereas the head of a small monastery in known as mat́hádhiisha. So these are the two broad classifications – sádhu and sannyásii. This classification is based upon outward appearance, external criteria.

What is the inner truth? The word sannyásii is derived sat + nyás + suffix nini, first case ending, singular number. Sannyásii means one who, out of noble intentions and benevolent outlook, has sacrificed his or her everything for the highest goal in life, Parama Puruśa. The word sádhu can be interpreted in two ways, but in both cases the meaning is the same. The first interpretation is:

Játasya hi jagati jantavah sádhujiivitáh;
Ye punarńeha jáyante sheśáh jat́haragardabháh.

[The lives of those human beings who are sádhu (upright), and who are not born again, I call successful. The lives of the rest are no better than those of donkeys.]

It is a fact that not all human beings are righteous. Even though one possesses a human framework, one’s demeanour, conduct and thought processes may be worse than those of an animal. Hence it is said that a person who has lived his or her life honestly, who has not harmed others to further his or her own interests, and has worked for the welfare of others in every way, is a sádhu. He or she is not required to be reborn on this earth. He or she becomes one with Parama Puruśa after death, and the separate identity is lost in Parama Puruśa. In the Bengali literature of 1200 years ago it is mentioned, Je je ujubát́e gelá anábat́t́á bhaelá soi. That is, “One who has followed the straight path of the suśumná canal⁽³⁾ upwards does not return.” He or she becomes one with Parama Puruśa, losing his or her separate existence. To come down to a lower level of consciousness, it is necessary to maintain a separate existence. Just because one has a human form and just because one besmears one’s body with ashes, wears white and uses the name Dása, it does not mean that one is a sádhu. Shiva made a pointed comment regarding such people: “Yes, these people no doubt have human bodies, but in their thoughts and behaviour they are not sádhu, not honest. Though I accept their mothers as humans, they themselves are donkeys, donkeys born out of human wombs.” A true sádhu is a real spiritualist, a spiritually-evolved person.

You may wonder why Shiva has used such strong language. Being as vehemently opposed to injustice as Párthasárathi was, Shiva was the prototype of Párthasárathi. When one has to speak or fight against injustice, or take administrative action against it, one must not betray any weakness. One must denounce it in the strongest language, because only strong words can strike the right chord in the heart of a sinful person. This is the proper interpretation of sádhu.

Yes, Shiva was very stern in this regard. Those who preach meaningless, irrational dogmas and thereby enormously harm society, who crudify the human intellect, who do not leave any scope to think of anything other than mundane problems, who throttle the very freedom of thought, Shiva called Lokavyámohakárakah. That is, “They infect society with a form of mental disease.”

The second interpretation of sádhu is:

Pránáh yathátmano’bhiiśt́ah bhútánám api te tathá;
Átmaopamyena bhutánáḿ dayáḿ kurvanti sádhavah.

“The life of every creature is as valuable to itself as one’s own life is valuable to a human being: one who remembers this and shows kindness to all, is termed sádhu.”

These are the interpretations of sádhu.

Párthasárathi says, Paritráńáya sádhúnám [“for the protection of sádhus”]. Some so-called moralists declare, “I don’t do any wrong, so I’m a moralist. I do good to others, so I’m surely a sádhu.” To this I will reply that they are not sádhus. Only that person who lives in constant God-awareness deserves to be called a sádhu, a spirituo-moralist. One who is not constantly absorbed in the thought of God cannot lead a moral life for any length of time – his or her morality may collapse at any moment. Perhaps one can resist the temptation to take a bribe of ten thousand rupees, but cannot resist the temptation of a million rupees. But not only will a person who is an ardent devotee of the Lord resist the temptation of a million rupees; if you offer that person the emperorship of the universe, the person will say, “No, the total worth of all this is far, far less than that of the Lord. I am not prepared to accept all these worthless things in exchange for Parama Puruśa.”

You now understand that by merely smearing ashes on one’s body one does not qualify to be a sádhu. In fact, one should keep such sádhus at arm’s length, because if they cover their bodies with ashes to hide the filth deep within themselves, it means that a lot of such filth must have accumulated. One must be wary of them.

Tráńa means temporary relief from distress. Suppose there has been a great calamity such as a flood or famine which has inflicted immense suffering on the victims. The measures you take to alleviate the suffering of those in distress are called tráńa vyavasthá [relief activities]. For instance, you may visit an afflicted area and distribute ten thousand maunds [about forty thousand kilos] of flour among the people. You have done very commendable tráńa, but how long will that flour last? Ten or twenty years? No, your stock will be exhausted within a week and again the necessity to start a relief operations will arise. This is tráńa.

Paritráńa is the kind of tráńa whose beneficial effects continue to recur over an endless period of time.

Párthasárathi Krśńa gave a permanent assurance to righteous people that He would protect them. He wanted to develop the way of life, the educational system and the economy of the society in such a way that all good people might find solutions for their mundane, supra-mundane and spiritual problems, and permanent relief from the three kinds of bondages [physical, mental and spiritual].

Vinásháya ca duśkrtám means “for the destruction of the wicked”. Here “destruction” implies change of form. Change occurs, but this change is for the better: the previous form is replaced by a new one. Perhaps Ravana and Kansa were reborn as ideal devotees; their previous forms were replaced by better substitutes.

Who are duśkrtas [the wicked]? Those who cause harm to innocent people either out of self-interest or group-interest are called duśkrtas. Such antisocial people are a burden on a civilized society, a black spot on society. For such people there is only dehátmaváda and dehaparińámaváda [materialistic doctrines of Charvaka philosophy].

Caturbhyoh khalu bhútebhyo caetanyamupajáyate;
Kińvádibhyah sametebhyah dravyebhyo madashaktivat.⁽⁴⁾

There is a subtle substance which evolves out of matter at certain specific stages of evolution: the mind. It acts as the guiding force of human beings. According to materialistic philosophies, human life is purely matter-oriented. (This idea is called jad́aváda in Sanskrit.) Those who uphold such gross materialism are also duśkrtas, for they go against the greater interests of humanity. Human beings must be wary of these people.

They teach people:

Yávajjivet sukhaḿ jiivet násti mrtyuragocarah;
Bhasmiibhútasya dehasya punarágamanaḿ kutah

Yávajiivet sukhaḿ jiivet, rńaḿ krtvá ghrtaḿ pivet.

This in short is their philosophy: “You have only come to this world for a short span of time, so make the most of it: eat, drink and be merry, throwing all worries aside. Live a life of fun even if you go into debt, for who will pursue you after death to make you repay your debts?” This dangerous doctrine destroys all human sensibilities. It throws the cultural and spiritual values of life into the garbage and destroys the very future of humanity. This is gross materialism and those [[who]] support it, consciously or unconsciously, should be branded as duśkrtakáriis. Krśńa promised to incarnate Himself for the destruction of these wicked people: not for their total annihilation, but to bring about a change in them for the better.

Mlecchanivahanidhane karayasi karaválaḿ
Dhúmaketumiva kimapi karálam;
Keshavadhrta Kalkishariirah jaya Jagadiisha hare.

[You wielded your dreadful sword, blazing like a comet, in the destruction of the unrighteous. O Lord in the form of Kalki, O Supreme Entity, victory unto You.]

Those who oppose humanity, dharma and civilization, and who oppose those human expressions that convey the finest legacies of civilization, are called mlecchas in Sanskrit. “For the destruction of these mlecchas, O Lord, O Parama Puruśa, You manifest Yourself in this world, appearing as stern as thunder. To the wicked You appear like a dreadful comet, cruel, striking terror. O Lord, let me discover the sweetness even in Your fearsome Kalki form. I salute You again and again.” This sort of interpretation is in conformity with the life of Párthasárathi.

Paritráńáya sádhúnáḿ vinásháya ca duśkrtám;
Dharmasaḿsthápanártháya sambhavámi yuge yuge.

What sometimes occurs to re-establish people in their true dharma, their natural dharma, their sanátana [eternal] dharma, their mánava [human] dharma, their Bhágavata dharma? At certain times mere discourses do not suffice; even collective efforts cannot do anything; even a great number of people uniting together and forming an organization fail to do anything. At such a time there will be many who speak, but few who listen and act.

Shravańáyápi bahubhiryo na labhyah shrńvanto’pi bahabo yaḿ na viduh;
Áshcaryo vaktá kushalasya labdháshcaryo jiṋátáh kushalánushiśt́ah.

[Many people never even get the chance to hear discourses about the Átman. Of those who do hear, many cannot comprehend. Fewer still are those who can speak authoritatively on the subject, and even fewer those who can grasp the significance.]

“During such a serious crisis, Parama Puruśa Himself comes to this earth in the form of a great personality with the help of the five fundamental factors. He gives a tremendous push to human society and brings about a revolutionary change in the psychic world. For this purpose He incarnates Himself in the world again and again.”⁽⁵⁾

Dharmasaḿsthápanártháya means “for the restoration of dharma to its proper place”. Sthápana means “to keep something in a particular place”; saḿsthápana means “to keep it in its proper place”. Obviously dharma has its rightful place. The decline of dharma means that it has fallen from its original place. Thus Dharmasaḿsthápana means “the restoration of dharma to its pristine glory, to its proper place”. Párthasárathi Krśńa gives His assurance that He will come to this world to restore dharma to its proper place.

What is the meaning of yuga [sandhi]? Between any two epochs there is a transitional period. For instance, in history there was the Elizabethan Age, there was the Victorian Age, etc. One epoch is followed by another, in the psychic world as well as in the physical world. Suppose a society is moving in a particular direction with a certain philosophy: suddenly it receives a jolt from somewhere and stops, not knowing which way to go. Confused, it begins moving again in another direction. The transitional point between the two flows is called yuga sandhi. And each one of the particular flows of a society is known as an “epoch” in English, yuga in Sanskrit. One particular epoch ends and a new one follows. One set of ideas and values ends and a new set begins. At the transitional point, human beings become confused: they lose the ability to discriminate between dharma and adharma, what they should and what they should not do. At that moment, the advent of a great personality becomes an imperative necessity. Párthasárathi came only to teach people what dharma is and what adharma is, what to do and what not to do, and which path would bring the highest fulfilment in their lives. He arrived at the right time, the transitional period in history; so He said, Sambhavámi yuge yuge [“I incarnate Myself from age to age”].

Thus Párthasárathi was the ideal upholder of the hopes and aspirations of the devotees. He drew all created beings close to Him. Those who did not come to Him He destroyed, to set them on the right path.

Thus Párthasárathi has no relationship with Maháviśńuváda. Maháviśńu sits in one place in the universe and does nothing [when some sparks become lost in the eternal darkness]. So Maháviśńu cannot be compared with Párthasárathi. Párthasárathi is the very symbol of infinite life-force. He wants to take all with Him. He is the nearest and dearest of all. No one is insignificant, no one is negligible. He belongs to one and all. What Párthasárathi taught through His personal life cannot be explained or taught through Maháviśńuváda.

Footnotes

(1) The mythological king of Lanka in the Rámáyańa, representing the forces of darkness. –Eds.

(2) Bhagavad Giitá. –Eds.

(3) The cakras [psycho-spiritual plexi] in the human body are all located along the suśumná canal which passes through the length of the spinal column and extends up to the crown of the head. –Eds.

(4) “Consciousness grows out of action and interaction among the four fundamental factors of matter, just as different components combine to produce the alcoholic effect of wine.” (Cárváka recognized four fundamental factors, not five. He did not recognize the ethereal factor.) –Eds.

(5) Author’s translation of Paritráńáya shloka. –Trans.

Chapter 2	Ananda Marga Philosophy in a Nutshell Part 8 [a compilation]

Today I will say something about Vraja Krśńa in the light of dvaetaváda [dualism]. Before we begin to analyse the topic at some length, one should form a very clear idea of what dvaetaváda is. This analysis should cover the entire period of history, from the prehistoric dawn to the historic age, and should include the science of Sanskrit phonetics.

Language develops as a result of adjustment between mental vibrations and the external vibrations of the manifested world. Changes occur in the external conditions of the world, but mental vibrations do not undergo much change. Mind controls the external world to a great extent, and the external world controls the mind.

Take for example the colour red. The colour is there in the external world. It has a physical vibration contained within light rays. Those vibrations strike the eyes, and the mind vibrates and dances in accordance with those vibrations.

All vibrations, all kinds of dance, produce sound. One sees the colour red in the external world. When that colour comes and strikes the eyes of a person of a particular area, of a particular natural environment, its vibration strikes the optical nerve, and thence the impact of the vibration falls on the mánasadeha [mental body]; and the mind then vibrates – but not only according to the ocular vibration, rather according to the sound vibration as well. When the mind dances on seeing the colour red, a sound vibration arises in the mind – t́ak, t́ak, t́ak, t́ak.⁽¹⁾ That is why we say t́akt́ake lál [scarlet red] in Bengali. Similarly, on seeing a white object, the mental sound vibration dhab, dhab, dhab occurs. Hence the Bengali expression dhabdhabe sádá [sparkling white].

From that dhab sound, that acoustic expression of the inner mind, a root verb came into being in Sanskrit, and from that root dhava, with the addition of the verb lá and the suffix d́a, the word dhavala [white] was formed.

In pure Hindi, dhavala has become dhaolá; in Bengali, dhalá; and in Oriya, dhaŕá. This is the way in which words are formed.

When the mind moves in one direction, flowing towards a particular point, then the numerical concept regarding that point is termed eka [one]. Eka is common to all people, literate or illiterate, white or black. When all the ideas in the mind flow in a particular line and culminate at a particular point, then the numerical expression concerning that particular point is “one”. In the very ancient Sanskrit of the Vedic age a finger was also called eka; two fingers were called dvi [two]. In old Latin it is dui, in later Latin tui, from which the English word “twin” has come. In the Austric language group there was no such word as “one” or “two”. To demonstrate “one” they used to show one finger, and “two” would be two fingers; to indicate “five” they would show the whole hand. (The Persian equivalent of “five” is painj. The land where five rivers flow is “Paiṋjáb” [Punjab]. The hand is called paiṋjá because it has five fingers.) To demonstrate “ten” in the Austric languages the people used to show two hands; in the case of “fifteen”, two hands and a foot; and in the case of “twenty”, two hands and two feet. The ancient Austric word for the human body was kur, so the number represented by the human body possessing two hands and two feet became kuri, from which the modern Bengali word kuŕi is derived. Even today in some systems of counting, “twenty” is the highest number. That is why people say ek kuŕi [“one twenty”], du kuŕi [“two twenties”], tin kuŕi [“three twenties”], and so on, when bargaining in the market.

In the primary stage of civilization, people were only a little conscious of themselves and totally unconscious about other things. Later, when language emerged, when old Sanskrit and old Latin were widespread, people began to understand more about their existence. They realized, “I exist, and there must be a Creator, the Creator of all the things around me in the universe, who must also be watching me.” These were the ideas that dawned upon the human mind. The primitive people thought, “There exists one ‘I’, and there also exists one entity who is guiding all entities. So there are two” – whether “two fingers” or dui or dvi or dua, etc. The notion that there are two entities was termed “dualism” in Latin, dvaetaváda in Sanskrit. There may or may not be more entities, but there are certainly two – I and my Lord. In the initial stage of philosophy only dualism existed. Sáḿkhya philosophy, which I have already discussed, is also dualism, because it is based on the notion that there is one Prakrti and many puruśas. This is the main contention of Sáḿkhya philosophy. So Sáḿkhya is also dualism. But in this school Puruśa is not established in His full authority. It makes little difference whether He exists or not. But anyway, Sáḿkhya was covered fairly well earlier.

Now let us see how the world is viewed in the light of dvaetaváda. All unit beings realize that they exist. This does not require much effort: even an illiterate person is aware that he or she exists. If you ask a rustic fellow, “Hello, how are you?” he will reply “I am fine, thank you.” That is, he knows that he exists. No one needs to be taught this. Everyone takes it for granted that they exist. If a great scholar of Vishuddha Advaetaváda attempts to explain to the same fellow that he does not exist, the rustic will most probably reply, “What nonsense! You’re talking to me and yet telling me that I don’t exist? Then who are you talking to?” Confusing ideas like this were propounded for many centuries. In the initial stage of philosophy people believed that there existed only the unit beings and their Lord. They could not understand the intricacies of philosophical queries. Philosophy had not yet come into being.

As far as human history can say, Maharshi Kapila was the propounder of the world’s first school of philosophy, Sáḿkhya philosophy. As a result he was known as ádividván [the first scholar]. The people of that age did not possess an intellect subtle enough to probe deeply into things. Thus it would not be proper to find fault with them or condemn them in harsh language. They simply started moving towards Parama Puruśa without possessing any philosophical knowledge about Him.

The extent of their belief was that one Entity is the cause of the universe and the one overseeing its smooth unfoldment. Their inner feeling was, “I must move towards the Master, the Supreme Cause, who remains behind the curtain directing the entire performance. Whether I understand more than this or not makes no difference.” Dualistic philosophy is based on this inner understanding. No one has yet cared to analyse dualism in detail. The general tendency of dualism is to take it for granted that there are two entities, the devotee and the Lord.

The “Rádhá” concept is recognized by dualistic philosophy also. Therein it is said that the existential point of one’s jiiva bháva [microcosmic bearing], that is, one’s “I”-ness concentrated at a particular point, is Rádhá bháva. And the main nucleus of the vast entity who is guiding the universe is also a point. This point (the Supreme Controlling Nucleus) is the Abhiiśt́a of the first point (the unit being), and the first point (the unit being) is the iśt́a of this point (the Supreme Controlling Nucleus). Iśt́a and Abhiiśt́a mean almost the same thing; abhi means “all-pervasive”, therefore the Abhiiśt́a is the all-pervasive Iśt́a [Goal].

Jale hari sthale Hari anale anile Hari
Graha-tárá-súrye Hari harimaya e trisaḿsár.

[Hari resides in both land and water. He is the wind and the fire. He exists in the stars, the planets and the sun. The three worlds are permeated by Him.]

When one conceives one’s iśt́a in this way, it is then called one’s Ábhiiśt́a. The microcosm, in the form of a point, moves towards the nuclear point of Parama Puruśa, with or without philosophical understanding of what it is doing. Where does this movement terminate? And what does it mean to say that the microcosm is a point? A point, as we know, has position but no magnitude. Unit beings have an individual existence or “I” feeling. “I am well-read, fabulously rich, and enjoy name, fame and prestige. I buy people with one hand and sell them with the other.” This is how people brag and boast about themselves. But their vain words merely revolve around a point having position but no magnitude, just like the point at the end of a pencil. Parama Puruśa, however, is abhiiśt́a, all-pervasive, self-illuminating. Whatever we can imagine and whatever we cannot imagine is Parama Puruśa. But the universal nucleus which controls the omnipresence of Parama Puruśa is also a point having position but no magnitude.

The jiiva bháva, when reduced to a point, is called Rádhá. That is, Rádhá represents the existential feeling of the microcosm. The microcosmic nucleus moves towards the Macrocosmic Nucleus not through knowledge or action, but through devotion. So why do people bother to cultivate knowledge or action? They do so to make their devotion more intense, not for any other reason. People do not eat pickles to fill the stomach, but only to whet their appetite so that they can enjoy their food more. Similarly, devotees cultivate knowledge and action not for their physical growth, but to acquire more strength to move along the path of devotion with greater acceleration. This movement towards Parama Puruśa is devotion, and the attainment is also devotion.

People advance towards Parama Puruśa by virtue of their devotion – the microcosmic point advances towards the nuclear point of Parama Puruśa. The closer it gets, the more it realizes the proximity of the Macrocosmic Nucleus and the more change occurs in the nature of the point. Suppose a drop of water is advancing towards the sun. The more it advances, the more it gets converted into vapour, and when it attains the closest proximity to the sun, it becomes simply a round ball of fire. Or still better to take the case of a piece of iron. When it is quite close to the sun it loses its solidity and is converted into molten iron. When it moves even closer, it changes from molten iron into vapourized iron, gaseous iron. And when it reaches its closest proximity to the sun it becomes one with the sun, turning into a round ball of fire. Its identity separate from the sun can no longer be found even if one beats one’s head against the wall trying.

Thus in the process of movement the more the microcosmic point advances towards the Macrocosmic point, the more it imbibes the qualities of the Macrocosm. In the beginning the microcosmic point possess only microcosmic qualities. It is only a sádhaka, only a Rádhá. One who does árádhaná or constant Cosmic ideation is called “Rádhá”. The more a sádhaka advances, the more his or her qualities change. When in the process one comes into close proximity with the Macrocosmic nucleus, one loses one’s original qualities and acquires the qualities of the object of ideation. Mádhava Mádhava anukhana sunri Sundarii Mádhava bhelii [“Rádhiká (Rádhá) while constantly remembering Mádhava (Krśńá) became Mádhava Himself”]. Vidyapati says that while thinking of Krśńa, Rádhá was so radically changed inwardly that her entire mind become transformed into Krśńa. When the microcosmic point comes in close proximity to the Macrocosmic nucleus there can no longer remain two points – they merge into one. The jiiva merges with Krśńa. Thus ultimately there can be no duality – it simply cannot survive.

There are many who argue, “I exist and my Lord also exists. I don’t want to merge with my Lord, but prefer to remain near Him and enjoy His bliss.” They say,

Ciinii hate cái ná re man,
Ciini khete bhálobási.

“I don’t want to become sugar; I want to eat it.” “I” and “sugar” – there are two entities. “I” and “my Parama Puruśa”. “I shall remain near Him and serve Him. I will feel waves of joy on listening to stories about Him.”

Dualists make a serious and dangerous mistake. If one remains close to Him for a long time, one’s individual existence is bound to be lost – the unit being will become one with Parama Puruśa whether it likes it or not. When you have a strong desire to eat sugar, your mind becomes associated with the sugar. You are so determined to enjoy the sweet taste that if someone speaks to you, you do not reply. You are not even concerned about the colour of the sugar: your mind is focused only on eating it. As all your psychic energy and psychic propensities rush towards a single entity, you succeed in tasting it. Even then, two entities are present – yourself and the taste of sugar. But when you swallow it there are no longer two entities – the two become one. Similarly, when one moves towards Parama Puruśa, accepting Him as one’s sugar, one loses one’s existence and becomes one with Him.

1 + 1 = 2. This is the first stage. 1 + 1 = 1. This is the second stage. 1 + 1 = “What? I do not know.” This is the final stage.

Some devotees are dualists out of ignorance and say, “O Lord, You are sandalwood and I am water.” (Unless sandalwood is put into water it does not give off a strong scent.) It is a wonderful image. The jiiva bháva is concentrated in the múládhára cakra, and Shiva or Parama Puruśa resides in the controlling point of the pineal gland. Now if we compare Parama Puruśa to a condensed form of sandalwood paste and the jiiva bháva at the múládhára cakra to water, then the more the water flows towards the sandalwood through the suśumná canal, the more it imbibes the qualities of the sandalwood, thereby losing its original characteristics. When in this process it reaches the controlling point of the pineal gland it completely loses its original characteristics and assumes those of the sandalwood. Then there remains only one entity: the sandalwood. The water is absorbed into the sandalwood and lost forever. When, in the process of making itself more pure and holy than the sandalwood, it comes close to the sandalwood, first you will see that it will become like the sandalwood. Then, when it comes still closer, you will see that it has become simply sandalwood. Then you will see that it and the sandalwood have become one. Similarly, when the jiiva bháva approaches close to the Lord, it is no longer “You exist, O Lord, and I also exist,” but “You exist, O Lord, only You exist.”

Thus in the final stage of spiritual elevation dualism cannot survive. Even if someone says that he or she loves to eat sugar, still dualism cannot survive. That is why one should never think, “Parama Puruśa is so vast and I am only an ordinary human being.” This is almost blasphemy. A drop of water in the ocean is small, no doubt, but it resides within the depths of the mighty ocean. Similarly, a human being may be but an ordinary mortal, but he or she has the capacity to become one with Parama Puruśa. When one draws close to Parama Puruśa, one merges in Him whether one likes it or not.

Vraja Krśńa is that sort of nucleus, attracting all to Himself. He casts a loving smile at His devotees and says, “Come to Me, don’t stay away. Why are you hiding? Come, come to Me.” The more jiivas advance towards Him, the more they feel the greatness of Parama Puruśa, and the more their lives and minds become enveloped by His greatness. When sádhakas reach the sahásrára cakra, this close association is converted into absorption, and they are no longer able to maintain their separate existence. In this universe Parama Puruśa is one, not two. When the jiivas come to Him they cannot remain many, but become one. That is why those who are true devotees, the genuine yogis, the real practitioners of yoga, are bound in love and fellowship to one another.

I also trust and believe that whatever Párthasárathi wanted to do and whatever Vraja Krśńa desired, sádhakas will certainly accomplish in close collaboration with Him. You will bring about a radical change in the social order so that each individual can find ample scope for physical, mental and spiritual evolution. Remove the sorrow and suffering of exploited humanity; wipe the tears from their eyes. Build an ideal human society based on dharma. Let this be the sole mission of your life.

Footnotes

(1) For a person from a different area or natural environment, the sound vibration might be different. –Eds.

Chapter 3	Ananda Marga Philosophy in a Nutshell Part 8 [a compilation]

Now let us analyse whether the actions and observations of Párthasárathi Krśńa, Krśńa the king, have any relation to dvaetaváda. In my previous discourse I thoroughly analysed the concept of dvaetaváda. Generally there are three ways to ascertain the views of great personalities: first, by what they said; secondly, by what they did, even though they may not have said anything; and thirdly, even though they may not have said or done anything, by what they did not say – one way or the other – on a particular issue. In analysing Párthasárathi Krśńa in the light of the dvaetaváda, we should first find out what he has said in this regard. He once said:

Sarvadharmán parityajya Mámekaḿ sharańaḿ vraja;
Ahaḿ tváḿ sarvapápebhyo mokśayiśyámi máshucah.⁽¹⁾

[Set aside all other dharmas and take shelter in Me alone; I will save you from all sin, have no fear about that.]

According to Párthasárathi, the highest dharma in human life is to take shelter in the Supreme. In Sanskrit there are many near synonyms for the verb cal (to move): car, at́, vraja, etc. Calati means “to move in a natural way”; carati means “to move while eating”; at́ati means “to travel while learning something” (paryat́aka, derived from the prefix pari + the root verb at́, means “a world traveller who moves from place to place in search of knowledge”). The verb vrajati means “to move while enjoying spiritual bliss”.

Here Párthasárathi says Sarvadharmán parityajya [“Set aside all other dharmas”]. What is the meaning of dharma? It means “property” or “characteristic”. Jiivas maintain their existence through the expression of their inner characteristics in different spheres of creation. Every object in the universe has its own inherent characteristic: the characteristic of water is to make things wet, and that of fire is to burn. Centring around this fundamental characteristic, there are many secondary characteristics. For example, fire burns, but it does not burn the entirety of an object in the same way. It may burn one part of an object thoroughly and another part only partially. These different stages of burning are the secondary characteristics of the primary characteristic of fire, to burn. Water also has a number of secondary characteristics, and the collection of all these secondary characteristics is known as its dharma. To illustrate, when people eat, they do not mix all their food together and gulp it down voraciously, but follow a system of eating. For example, they may first eat bitter items, then semi-bitter ones, then sour ones, and finally sweet things. Sweets come at the end. The entire action of taking different items of food is called eating.

All dharmas have upadharmas [secondary characteristics]. Human life is no exception. For example, to provide for your family you require some sort of employment – be it agriculture, trading or business – you have to keep the house clean, feed everyone, and so on. These are the secondary characteristics included within the fundamental human dharma. What normally happens in human life? People get caught up in the secondary characteristics. For instance, when eating delicious food people often say “How good it tastes! But if it only had a bit more spice in it, then it would taste even better.” Being engrossed in the secondary dharma, people all too easily deviate from their main dharma. In ancient India, the usual custom was to offer a part of one’s meal to God before eating it. The spirit was, “May I remember You with every bit of food.” In Ananda Marga there is a system of applying guru mantra before commencing any action. The psycho-philosophy behind guru mantra is to transform the secondary dharma into the primary dharma at the psychic level. If this were not done then one’s secondary dharma would predominate. Much precious time is wasted by those who follow their secondary dharmas.

Párthasárathi Krśńa exhorted the people unambiguously: “Give up secondary dharmas and accept Me as your supreme goal. Do not let your mind be diverted to those countless secondary dharmas, but concentrate it on the fundamental primary dharma. Only then will every moment of your life be properly utilized.” Now, what is this primary dharma? Párthasárathi declared, Mámekaḿ sharańaḿ vraja [“take shelter in Me alone”]. Earlier I said that vraja means to move with Cosmic ideation in a state of bliss.

The movement of human beings in this universe is not movement for movement’s sake, but is comparable to a vraja parikramá [joyous pilgrimage]. No one moves even one step without any purpose. What does vraja parikramá signify? We all know that just as the historical Krśńa lived in the Vrindavana of this world, our spiritual Krśńa lives in the Vrindavana of our heart. He is the nucleus around which individuals move. That is why Párthasárathi says Mámekaḿ sharańaḿ vraja. Do not run after name, power, position or wealth. Try to become one with Parama Puruśa.

I have already said that when the jiiva tattva or Rádhá tattva comes within Krśńa’s closest proximity, two separate entities cannot remain – they will fuse and become one. Then what is the meaning of ekam [one]? When all the propensities of your psychic body coincide at one point, then those pointed propensities are called ekam. Whenever we talk of something in terms of ekam it implies that all propensities have become one-pointed. “1” is a numeral – the first, the greatest and the smallest numeral. It is the smallest because there is no numeral smaller than “1”. The only thing smaller than one is zero, but that is something which has no existence. And it is the greatest numeral, because when One is accepted as the goal of life, it becomes the most significant numeral for all human existence. In the absence of primary dharma, all secondary dharmas such as eating, drinking, walking and talking are meaningless – they have no real existence. Similarly, a zero without a preceding digit has no value. But when “1” precedes zero the latter acquires some significance. When zero joins with “1” it becomes ten. In the same way, when you first follow your fundamental dharma and then carry out your worldly duties, upadharmas, accordingly life carries some value. If the main dharma, that is, the supreme One, is forgotten, then no amount of worldly duty can make one’s life glorious. When One (1) is absent, then the addition of any number of zeros carries no value.

Rám nám ek aunk hyáy, sab sádhan hyáy shunya;
Aunk viná kuch hát nahi aunk rahe dash guńa.

In the couplet the name of Rama is symbolized by the number one and the microcosmic endeavour is symbolized by zero.

So when we add a zero to “1”, the value is increased ten times, although zero has no value of its own; it only acquires a certain value when it exists beside the numeral “1”. Therefore Párthasárathi says, Mámekaḿ sharańaḿ vraja – “Know Me as the Supreme One and seek shelter in Me.” When the microcosmic point merges with the Macrocosmic point, then two entities no longer exist – there is only one entity. From Párthasárathi’s statement we understand that He is not a dualist in essence. He wants to accept all as His own, to absorb all in Himself.

Why does he say vraja and not cala or gaccha [near synonyms]? Because when you move towards Parama Puruśa, you move in joy. As this movement of yours is a blissful one, it is called vraja parikramá. “When you are totally absorbed in the Supreme while discharging your worldly duties, you will surely come to Me. When your life revolves around the Supreme, your every action will shine with divine effulgence.” Thus said Lord Krśńa to His disciples.

The second part of Párthasárathi’s statement, ahaḿ tváḿ sarvapápebhyo mokśayiśyámi máshucah [“I will save you from all sin, have no fear about that”], is much clearer and more direct. How should we distinguish between puńya [virtue] and pápa [vice]? Pápa has been used in the Sanskrit shloka. Pápa means “to do that which should not be done”. For instance, stealing is pápa, telling lies is pápa. In addition to pápa, there is another word – pratyaváya. Pratyaváya means “not to do what should be done”. For instance, parents should educate their children. If they do not, they are said to have committed pratyaváya. In some countries, parents are responsible for arranging the marriage of their daughters who are of suitable age . If they do not, they are said to have committed pratyaváya. In common parlance, pápa means both pápa and pratyaváya. The common word pátaka [sin] thus has two branches – pápa and pratyaváya.

We should remember one more thing here. Microcosms, as they move through various kinds of physical and psycho-physical clash on the path of pratisaiṋcara, are assailed by pápa and pratyaváya. This leaves an imprint on their minds. This imprint is not the mind’s true nature but merely an external covering. If one chews betel, then one’s lips become reddish temporarily, but when washes one’s lips afterwards the red colour disappears. Similarly, when human beings fall into pápa or pratyaváya through their bad actions or their inaction, an impression is left upon their minds. But later, when they draw close to Parama Puruśa by virtue of spiritual sádhaná, that impression of pápa or pratyaváya disappears.

Some people think that since they have become so sinful, there is no hope for them in the future. A great devotee of Chaitanya Mahaprabhu, Subuddhi Roy, thought that he had committed many sins in his life. He thought that the only way to atone for his sins was to commit suicide by throwing himself in the Ganges. Mahaprabhu caught his arms and pulled him out, saying, “No, no, no – why should you commit a sin like this?”

Prabhu kay ihá haete yáha Vrindávan;
Nirantara Krśńa nám kara saḿkiirtana.
Ek námáveshe tomár páp dúre yábe;
Ár nám laete Krśńa-cárań páibe.

[Instead of committing suicide go to Vrindavana and do the saḿkiirtana of Lord Krśńa unceasingly. By uttering the name of the Lord even once you will be purged of your sins, and when you repeat His name you will attain His holy feet.]

Subuddhi Roy asked, “Where is the road to Vrindavana? Alas, I am too great a sinner. How can I go to Vrindavana?”

Mahaprabhu replied, “Vrindavana is in your mind. Go deep into your mind.” Even though the jiivátmá may be assailed by bad deeds, its original nature is never distorted; it only gets a little soiled, a bit covered. In that state the jiivátmá is called pápopahata caetanya [consciousness assailed by sin]. And when influenced by good deeds, it is called puńyopahata caetanya [consciousness affected by virtue]. Actually the words pápátmá and puńyátmá [soul affected by sin or by virtue] are both incorrect. The soul never commits a sin, it never becomes sinful, nor does it ever become virtuous. It remains deathless and undecaying in its original state. But it does receive an impression.

What is this impression like? Suppose you place a large red rose in front of a clear mirror. If you look at the mirror, what do you see? A red rose. From a distance, one may say that the mirror is red, but is it actually so? No, the mirror is not red, but only appears to be red, coloured by the reflection of the red rose. In the same way, the human soul is also apparently coloured by virtue or vice. Whenever the soul comes in contact with any action, any psychic thought-wave, or any mental feeling, it is apparently affected, but not actually affected, just as the mirror is not actually coloured red. This is how this pápopahata caetanya and puńyopahata caetanya are created, due to the effect of sinful or virtuous deeds and thoughts.

When jiivas approach Parama Puruśa (Sarvadharmán parityajya Mámekaḿ sharańaḿ vraja), the impressions caused by their good or bad thoughts and actions become more distinct and are gradually expelled from the mind. The colours of worldly deeds, good or bad, cannot affect Parama Puruśa. In Parama Puruśa’s proximity there remains only His reflection. When reflected images, merge into the original substance the images cease to exist. Likewise, when the reflected images of jiivátmás merge with Parama Puruśa, there remains only one, only Parama Puruśa. That is why He says, “Accept Me alone, not My reflections, and I will liberate you from all sins. Do not worry.”

Máshuca – “Do not worry in the least. I am here for you. I will do everything for you. Only come to Me.” This is not the statement of a dvaetavádi [dualist]. It is the statement of an advaetavádi [non-dualist] who admits the relative existence of the jiivas in the initial stage, and in the final stage assimilates them into His vast Cosmic body. This great assurance given by Párthasárathi to the jiivas is invaluable: something beyond human description. Herein lies the greatest charm, the greatest attraction, of the personality of Párthasárathi. It is totally pointless to analyse Párthasárathi in the light of dvaetaváda. He was never a dvaetavádii.

Footnotes

(1) Bhagavad Giitá. –Eds.

Chapter 4	Ananda Marga Philosophy in a Nutshell Part 8 [a compilation]

In dvaetádvaetaváda (dualistic non-dualism) first there is dvaeta and then there is advaeta. (The words are conjoined according to the principle of supsupeti samása in Sanskrit grammar.) That is, what was dualism in the initial stage is transformed into non-dualism at a later stage. This being so, I will discuss how Vraja Krśńas activities and behaviour are consistent with or different from dvaetádvaetaváda. Because in this regard, what He did in the practical field is far more significant than what He said.

According to dvaetádvaetaváda, in the initial stage jiivas are different from Parama Puruśa, thinking themselves to be separate entities (and in fact they are); but in the final stage, by virtue of sádhaná, the irresistible attraction of the Great, and the unconditional grace of Parama Puruśa, they come into close proximity with Parama Puruśa and become one with Him. In the beginning they were two, but in the end they become one. When sugar and sand are mixed together they still maintain their separate identities; they are said to be united but not unified. But when sugar and water are mixed together they become syrup, thus losing their separate identities. In this case they have not been united but unified: two entities have been fused into one. In dvaetádvaetaváda, the jiiva and Parama Puruśa become one after unification.

Some people may raise the question whether this unification is like that of sugar and sand or like that of sugar and water. It is a pertinent question, and although a complicated one philosophically, can be answered in a simple way. The original propounders of this doctrine did not advance any easy analogy like the one of sugar and water and sugar and sand. Had they done so it would have landed them in great difficulty.

There is a certain doctrine which contends that the merger of jiiva and Parama Puruśa is like a mixture of sugar and sand; for they become one but not exactly the same. This sort of philosophical doctrine is known as acintya bhedábhedaváda. According to its propounders, it is beyond human comprehension to know what sort of unification takes place. Other doctrines claim that the two become completely unified just like sugar and water. We can call these two analogies as sharkará-báluka [sugar and sand] and sharkará-jalam [sugar and water]. Sometimes very complex ideas can be easily understood with the help of simple analogies.

The concept of Vraja Krśńa involves the question of dualism in the beginning and non-dualism in the end. Is merger in Him like sugar and sand or like sugar and water? Actually, before asking this question a much more significant question should be asked: if jiivas are dualists in the beginning and non-dualists in the end, where did they originate from? Some people say that Parama Puruśa picked up a handful of dust and scattered it around, and thus the world was created. I am not at all persuaded by this simplistic metaphysical proposition. My question to them is: Where did Parama Puruśa acquire that handful of dust? In dvaetádvaetaváda the question of the jiivas’ origin remains unanswered. This is one of its basic flaws.

Násato vidyate bhávo nábhávo vidyate satah – “Something cannot come out of nothing. Again, something or other comes out of something: that is, something comes out of something and nothing comes out of nothing.” The jiiva is an entity and, as I have said earlier, an entity whose existence cannot be altogether denied. No matter how much we deny the existence of the world, we cannot make it non-existent. Jagadapi satyam ápekśikam – “The world is a relative truth,” and thus your physical body which exists in this relative world is also a relative truth. To exist in this relative world one requires food, clothing, shelter, education, medical treatment and other necessities of life. One cannot completely ignore these basic necessities. Ironically, those exponents of philosophy who have declared that this world is mere illusion or Máyá have constructed various temples and monasteries in different parts of India. If the world is nothing but Máyá then where is the necessity of all these temples and monasteries? There are clear contradictions between what such people preach and what they practise. Intelligent people, honest people, would never say anything self-contradictory. So the fundamental mistake of dvaetádvaetaváda is that it is mysteriously silent about the origin of the jiivas. Ramprasad, a famous mystic poet of Bengal, has given a beautiful answer to this question.

Prasád bale – yá chili bhái tái habi re nidenkále;
Yeman jaler vimba jalei uday, jal haye se misháy jale.

[Prasad says that you will be the same in the end as you were in the beginning. Just as a water bubble arises from water and the next moment dissolves back into the water, similarly the jiiva comes out of Parama Puruśa and ultimately returns to Parama Puruśa.]

This is a deep philosophical idea expressed in very simple and lucid language. It is interesting to note that although the propounders of dvaetádvaetaváda do not mention where the jiivas come from, they do inform us that they merge into Parama Puruśa. I cannot understand why they avoid the question of the origin of the jiivas. I am in favour of saying things in clear, concise and conclusive terms. Frankly speaking, I dislike this sort of hush-hush mentality. It implies that there are some defects somewhere.

One thing more has to be said in this regard. Although the jiivas are apparently small entities, they are part of the Infinite and as such have an element of infinity within. Their expressions and movements are not strictly limited to their physical existence. Regarding the divine nature of the jiivas, Rabindranath Tagore has said in one of his poems:

Ámi ye rúper padme karechi arúp madhu pán,
Duhkher vakśer májhe ánander peyechi sandhán.
Ananta maner váńii shunechi antare
Dekhechi jyotir path shúnyamay ándhaŕ prántare,
Nahi ámi vidhir brhat parihás
Asiim aeshvarya diye racita mahat sarvanásh.

[From the lotus of beauteous forms I have drunk the nectar of
the formless,
In the depths of misery I have discovered infinite bliss.
I have listened to the message of the infinite silence,
I have seen the path of effulgence in the dark endless void.
Although a mere microcosm I am not just a joke of Providence
Surrounded by limitless Macrocosmic wealth, yet ending in the
Great Annihilation.]

It is not proper to remain silent about the source of this endless microcosmic expression. Neither is it proper to remain ambiguous about the jiivas’ final destination. One cannot escape these realities by resorting to philosophical rigmarole. It would be a great blunder to underestimate the immense potential lying latent within the jiivas.

I have already said that to say that all jiivas have come out of nothing is incorrect, as something cannot come out of nothing, nor indeed can nothing come out of something. Something which exists will continue to exist, though undergoing metamorphosis. Similarly, that which does not really exist can never have an expression. All of you feel that you are carrying some life-force in you, the warmth of life. You feel that you have a mind, and so many feelings and sentiments, hopes and aspirations, pains and pleasures – so many susceptibilities and sensibilities. If someone denies this, will you accept it? Certainly not. These are not burdens, but the bliss of joyful living. You are voluntarily carrying these burdens because they give you joy. It is a major point and it is left unanswered in dvaetádvaetaváda. The value of humanity goes unrecognized in this philosophy.

Next comes the question of advaeta. Advaeta is the logical conclusion of dvaeta. The entity which has been flowing from the infinite void to the infinite void can never terminate in a state of crudity. It is bound to merge in Parama Puruśa, the embodiment of bliss – there can be no other imaginable destination. Thus the jiiva and Shiva cannot maintain their separate existences, as sugar and sand do, but will become unified like sugar and water. An ordinary jiiva can become extraordinary by virtue of sádhaná, karma [selfless action], intellect and benevolence. When such highly-evolved individuals merge with Parama Puruśa, they render the Macrocosmic existence even more meaningful and significant. A small drop of the essence of the screw-pine flower can add scent to a hundred drops of water. The absorption of these evolved jiivas into Parama Puruśa adds to the charm of Parama Puruśa. Thus the unification of the jiiva with Parama Puruśa is not like that of sugar and sand, but sugar and water.

Now, let us analyse the life and personality of Vraja Krśńa in His infancy. Vraja Krśńa was born in Kansa’s prison on a night shaken with heavy rains and fearsome thunderclaps, signifying the providential decree that the forces of wickedness represented by Kansa would be struck down. It was a part of the divine strategy to eliminate the tyrannical Kansa. How else could one account for the fact that one of Kansa’s intelligence agents opened the jail gates? And that the people of Gokula fell asleep, thus facilitating the safe escape of the baby Krśńa? At least some people should have remained awake – but in that case, the historic exchange of children would not have taken place.

These small incidents in the life of Vraja Krśńa are the precursors of a major event that was yet to come. Why did the child Krśńa kill Putana? She was a member of the intelligence department. Female employees of the intelligence branch were called viśa kanyá⁽¹⁾ because they were required to carry a ring containing a small amount of poison. If caught by the enemy, they were supposed to commit suicide, as there was a strong possibility that they might divulge many secrets under torture. Putana was one such female intelligence agent employed by Kansa, king of Mathura. Vakasura and Aghasura were both gahapuruśas, male agents. Krśńa had no intention to go to Vakasura and Aghasura and kill them; His humanitarian feelings forbade this.

Putana had only become Kansa’s intelligence agent as a means of livelihood. She certainly did not adopt this profession out of love for Kansa! Aghasura and Vakasura as well had only adopted this profession as a means of livelihood. Rulers change as do the allegiances of the intelligence people. People who had sung songs of praise for one king could be later found criticizing the same king and eulogizing the new one. Obviously they had no ideology of their own. Krśńa did not plan to go to them and kill them, but He was obliged to strike back in self-defense when they made an attempt on His life.

He could easily have killed Pútaná Rákśasii⁽²⁾ with his dagger or strangled her, but He did not. Putana attempted to suckle Krśńa after applying poison to her breast, but Krśńa bit her breast sharply, and the poison got into her bloodstream, and she died. Even while killing her, Krśńa showed great human consideration. Killing her was a last resort – had he sucked milk from her breast, He would have swallowed the poison, so He bit her instead in self-defense. Krśńa showed equal consideration before killing Vakasura and Aghasura. All these events in Krśńa’s life indicate that He was a great humanist. They also show that in the initial stage He recognized dvaetaváda to some extent.⁽³⁾

Jiivas emerge from Parama Puruśa, and eventually return to His supreme beatific stance. Putana, Vakasura and Aghasura also emerged from Parama Puruśa in the same way. They were also dvaeta jiivas [dualistic beings]. Had they [as dualistic beings] practised sádhaná, they would certainly have merged with Parama Puruśa, but instead they took a different path, the negative path – they wanted to destroy the very nucleus of the universe, Lord Krśńa, the greatest treasure of humanity. Vraja Krśńa had to kill them as a last resort. He did not kill them for the sake of killing, but to counteract their evil tendency to destroy human solidarity. He was a fiery personality of human civilization, of human society. If people move too close to a fire without wearing adequate protection, they burn to ashes. That was the fate of those three. Had He looked upon them as mere dualistic beings, from a dualistic perspective, then He would have kept them away, but that He did not do. He did not want to treat any human being as a mere dualist would have.

At a later stage of Vraja Krśńa’s life, we notice that His devotees were not well-versed in classical lore, did not have a deep knowledge of Sanskrit, and did not possess high academic qualifications. However, they had one rare quality – their dvaeta sattá [dualistic existence], the dualism that originates from Parama Puruśa. After coming in contact with Krśńa they started to move towards advaeta; they were moving towards oneness with Him. Let us see whether their merger with Him was like a mixture of sugar and sand or sugar and water.

What does practical experience suggest? Vraja Krśńa had identified Himself with them to such an extent that it was almost impossible to distinguish Him from them. Yet He was the nucleus, the central figure, the fiery personality, the kaosthubhamańi [the jewel of jewels], having its place of honour at the centre of the ornament. How does this spirit of dualism survive? It survives as long as there remains more than one mental object. If you take the entire universe as your object and not any finite mundane thing, you will become one with Parama Puruśa in that very instant. However, if you accept something small as your object, then individuality asserts itself and you feel that you are Tom, Dick or Harry. It is due to mental objects that bondage occurs in the human mind, and it these bondages which create the feeling of dualism and keep the individual separated from Parama Puruśa. Mental objects vary from person to person – one’s mental object may be very expansive, leading him or her towards Parama Puruśa; another’s may be very limiting, taking him or her away from Parama Puruśa. The person whose mental object is so vast that he or she says, “O Parama Puruśa, only You exist. You are my everything; I have nothing of my own,” attains oneness with Him.

Any object which creates bondage in the mind has its own particular colour. In those early days people used silver coins. While thinking of those silver coins, their minds would be coloured silver. Today, people’s minds are coloured by the thought of paper currency. When someone thinks of an iron safe, one’s mental object becomes the iron safe. When someone goes to the bank to deposit money, the bank’s signboard becomes his or her mental object. Suppose a person has a hundred thousand rupees of black money and thinks, “What shall I do with this black money? I know, I’ll bury it for some time and then invest it in a business.” All such things become a person’s mental objects, one by one. The mind always takes something as its object, each object having its specific colour. The significance of the Dol Liilá, the Spring Festival, is to surrender all one’s mental colour to Parama Puruśa, and thus free oneself from the bondage of colour.

Vraja Krśńa gave due recognition to this process, saying, “Give your mental colours to Me and become one with Me.” What does this mean? Does this merger resemble a mixture of sugar and sand or of sugar and water? Certainly, it was like a mixture of sugar and water. Vraja Krśńa demonstrated in His personal life that if one takes a dualistic attitude and enormously harms the collective interest, something has to be done to counteract it. Annihilation is not the goal here, but to extract the poison from the snake’s fangs. Moreover it is a fact that no matter how sinful or wicked one might be, if one surrenders one’s mental colour, be it black, yellow, red, etc., to Parama Puruśa by saying Tava dravyaḿ Govinda Tubhyameva samarpaye, Parama Puruśa immediately accepts the offering. At this point one becomes free from the bondage of colour and merges in one’s true self. This is the highest stage of advaeta.

People find it difficult to correlate the thoughts and actions of Vraja Krśńa with the dualistic portion of dvaetádvaetaváda. Jiivas have come out of the Supreme Cognitive Faculty. That Cognitive Faculty is none other than Parama Puruśa or Vraja Krśńa, for Vraja Krśńa is none other than Táraka Brahma Himself. He makes it abundantly clear that in the final stage of unification, existence becomes as sweet as sugar and water, not unpleasant or distasteful like a mixture of sugar and sand. Vraja Krśńa did not want to see an unhappy ending such as that. Thus in analysing Vraja Krśńa in the light of dvaetádvaetaváda philosophy, we can say that Vraja Krśńa did not want things to turn out like that.

Footnotes

(1) Viśa: “poison”. Kanyá: “girl”, “daughter”. –Eds.

(2) Putana was called Pútaná Rákśasii [rákśasii: a demoniacal woman] because she had a very bad nature, not because she was some kind of ogress with big hands, long teeth and fiery eyes, as conceived in mythology.

(3) As opposed to an ethereal Máyáváda point of view, for example. –Eds.

Chapter 5	Ananda Marga Philosophy in a Nutshell Part 8 [a compilation]

Párthasárathi can be analysed from two points of view – the point of view of what He said, and the point of view of what He did. What He said is mentioned in the Giitá. Here I shall analyse what He did. Párthasárathi gathered around Him a good number of righteous people, and together they strove tirelessly to promote human welfare.

The fundamental idea of dvaetádvaetaváda philosophy is that in the beginning there are two entities, while in the end there is only one. Initially the presence of two entities is admitted – Jiiva ca tasya Iishvara, “the sádhaka and the Supreme Object of his or her ideation”. The duality of jiiva and Iishvara ends when the sádhaka and his or her object of ideation become one, when the devotee and the Lord are fused into one. I have already mentioned this many times.

Sádhakas move towards the goal – the Supreme Entity – along a difficult path strewn with thorns. Sádhaná means to carry on an endless fight against the opposing forces and ideas that thwart the spiritual progress of an individual. When sádhakas succeed in removing all obstacles in this process of fight they (the devotees) and the Lord finally become one. This is the spiritual path, the path of spiritual progress.

Some devotees employ all their energy to impatiently entreat Parama Puruśa, “O Lord, be gracious. Come to me.” Sádhaná implies that the devotees move towards their Lord. It may also happen that devotees address Parama Puruśa with all their psychic feeling concentrated on one point while sitting in one place. In this way, too, they can become one with the Lord. In order to become established in the state of non-dualism, devotees must practise sádhaná. Devotees draw Parama Puruśa towards themselves with all their sincerity, emotion and sentiment focused on Him. This way of drawing Parama Puruśa to oneself is known as bhakti márga [the path of devotion].

Kiirtana⁽¹⁾ is an integral part of bhakti márga. During kiirtana devotees entreat Him, “Come, O Lord, come to me. Come and sit amongst us, your devotees. We will love You and sing kiirtana for You; we will adore You with all the warmth of our hearts.” This is the philosophical side of devotion. But the fundamental point is that the devotee will have to merge in the Lord. Initially it is dvaeta, because in the beginning there are two entities, the devotee and the Lord, but ultimately, when they become one, it is advaeta. That is why it is called dvaetádvaetaváda. As long as the devotees remain in the darkness of ignorance there is duality, but when their existence becomes illumined by the effulgence of divine knowledge by virtue of karma sádhaná, jiṋána sádhaná and bhakti sádhaná, they are said to be in the state of non-dualism.

Párthasárathi Krśńa demonstrated in His own life how to become a righteous person. One must not retreat. Sometimes, as a matter of strategy, one may have to take two or three steps backwards, but in the end it may be as good as taking a hundred steps forward.

Let us take an example. Jarasandha, the king of Magadha, repeatedly attacked Mathura. To protect Mathura from his furious assaults, the capital was moved to Dwaraka. To reach Dwaraka one had to pass through the desert, and that was not possible for Jarásandha. In this case, Párthasárathi Krśńa adopted the policy of strategic retreat, but in fact He was taking a hundred steps forward. It was the best way to counteract the antisocial forces of Jarasandha.

This is how Párthasárathi demonstrated how to become righteous in one’s personal and practical life, how to take up arms against sinful and wicked people, and how to work pragmatically. The one who constantly ideates on Párthasárathi, keeping Him enshrined in the temple of his or her heart, and rushes towards Him, realizes Parama Puruśa through His grace and becomes one with Him. This is the theoretical side.

In His personal life Párthasárathi identified Himself with those who were intelligent, spiritually steady, and eager to promote the cause of human welfare. He talked with them and inspired them to a more sublime life. In this way He attracted people towards Himself in the spiritual sphere. Every human being has accepted Him as their own. As a result He remains enthroned to this day in the hearts of people, despite the long interval since His advent, just like an emerald in a jewel box. In His practical life He inspired those who came in His contact, drew them to Him, showed them the path to salvation and told them in unambiguous terms that the world was created by His Máyá. It shows that Párthasárathi is the be-all and end-all of human beings. He said, “I am the Creator of this world. Everything has emanated from Me.” Tantra has expressed this idea in a clear and lucid fashion:

Mayyeva sakalaḿ játaḿ mayi sarvaḿ pratiśt́hitam;
Mayi sarvaḿ layaḿ yáti tad Brahmádvayamasmyaham.

[Everything is born out of Me, everything is maintained in Me; Everything finally merges in Me; I am that Brahma – One without a second. ]

“Everything has come out of Me, everything is being maintained in Me and in the end everything will return to Me.” Dvaetádvaetaváda philosophy has accepted the existence of two entities in the first stage, and thus microcosms have not been given proper recognition. Dvaeta means the existence of two entities – jiiva and Iishvara, the microcosm and the Macrocosm – but it does not explain where the jiivas originally came from. It cannot be logically accepted that the jiivas spring out of nothingness. Thus the final portion of dvaetádvaetaváda is acceptable, but not its beginning. Logically something which does not contain a beginning cannot possess an end. That is why it is utterly futile to try to analyse Párthasárathi Krśńa in the light of dvaetádvaetaváda philosophy. He is far above it.

Footnotes

(1) Collective singing of the name of the Lord. –Eds.

Chapter 6	Ananda Marga Philosophy in a Nutshell Part 8 [a compilation]

Every vibration in this universe has colour and sound. Every vibration also represents a particular idea, and hence each idea has a vibrational sound and vibrational colour. Many vibrational waves are too long or too short to be perceived by human beings - we cannot hear their sound or see their colour – but they do exist. We can speak of them as causal matrices in the realm of vibrational colour; and consider them as the biija mantras [acoustic roots] of the ideas with which they are concerned.

A

The sound a is the acoustic root of creation, and thus is the controller of the seven notes of Indo-Aryan music [the surasaptaka or “seven notes” – in Western music, the “octave”], which are as follows: sya or khya (śad́aja [peacock]⁽¹⁾ – the Yajurvedic pronunciation khad́aja is also permissible, but in that case kha should be pronounced with the mind concentrated on the front part of the palate and not like the second consonant of the ka varga);⁽²⁾ re or r (rśabha [ox] – the pronunciation rkhabha is also permissible, but kha should not be pronounced like the second consonant of the ka group); gá (gándhára [goat]); má (madhyama [deer]); pá (paiṋcama [cuckoo]); dhá (dhaevata [donkey]); and ni (niśáda [elephant] – it can also be pronounced nikháda, but again kha is not pronounced like the second consonant of the ka group.)

Although a indirectly controls the seven musical notes, it chiefly controls the first note, śad́aja. This note is represented in the surasaptaka or sargam [gamut of notes] by its initial letter, sya. Remember that in the vilambita [prolonged] technique of pronunciation of this note, the vowel sound á is not employed;⁽³⁾ rather the saḿvrta [lengthened]⁽⁴⁾ pronunciation of a is employed. That is, the vowel here will not be pronounced á-á-á-á-á-á-á-á, but will be pronounced somewhat like aya, as they do in northern India. (More precisely, the pronunciation will be intermediate between aya and á). If singers were to pay more attention to proper pronunciation, they would benefit.

As the sound a is the acoustic root of the note śad́aja, the letter a is the first step in the learning of music. In Occidental music, the octave (do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do) has evolved in a similar way.

The difference between Occidental and Oriental music is that in the former the first note, śad́aja [or “do”], is repeated at the end to form an octave. Thus in Oriental music we say surasaptaka or musical “septave” (“collection of seven notes”) whereas in Occidental music we say “octave” (“collection of eight notes”).

Sadáshiva arranged sounds in the form of the surasaptaka, which contributed on the one hand to the acoustics of science, and on the other hand to the rhythmic phonetics of music. Hence in the study of music we cannot afford to forget his unique contribution.

A little while ago I said that every sound has colour too. Alternative words for raḿ [“colour”] are varńa [which also means “letter”] and rága. The word rága is derived from the root-verb rańj plus the suffix ghaiṋ, and means “to colour” something. By permutating and combining different sounds, Shiva created various rágas and arranged them in a perfect orderly sequence. In this way He created six rágas and thirty-six ráginiis. This was an immense contribution to the world of music and earned him the epithet Nádatanu [Embodiment of Divine Sound] in the Vedas. Of course it was Maharśi Bharata who popularized these rágas and ráginiis amongst intellectuals.

These rágas and ráginiis are subject to changes according to the shortening or lengthening of their notes. Following this system, Indian music is divided into two main branches: northern Indian music (colloquially “Hindustani music”), which is popular to the north of the Vindhya Hills, and Deccan music (or “Karnatak music”), which is popular to the south of the Vindhya Hills. Many new rágas and ráginiis are being evolved today and will be evolved in the future. There can be no end to this process of evolution. In Prabháta Saḿgiita⁽⁵⁾ also, a few new rágas and ráginiis have been evolved, but they have not yet been given names.

Á

The sound á is the acoustic root of rśabha, the second musical note. This acoustic root directly controls rśabha and indirectly controls gándhára (gá), madhyama (má), paiṋcama (pá), dhaevata (dhá) and niśáda (ni). In the Vedas other than the Rgveda, we usually come across komala [soft] ni and sádhárańa [ordinary] ni. In the older portions of the Rgveda, kad́ii [hard or high-pitched] ni was used. It could be uttered with both sides of the uvula. The seven Vedic and Tantric notes, the seven Vedic metres and the two bhávátmaka svara [spiritual sounds] constitute the sixteen prominent sounds which in Indo-Aryan phonetics are known as śod́asha dhvanikalá [the “sixteen sounds” of Brahmavidyá – intuitional science – and gandharvavidyá – the science of music]. These musical notes were used in music and incantation in different combinations according to the waxing and waning of the moon and according to the time of day or night. Accordingly, a specific period of the month and time of the day was fixed for the performance of each rága and ráginii.

I

Each of the letters of the Indo-Aryan alphabet, from a to kśa, is an acoustic root. That is, these fifty sounds are the vibrations corresponding to the colours of the fifty propensities. The third letter of the alphabet, i, is the acoustic root of gándhára (gá). It directly controls gándhára and indirectly controls madhyama (má), paiṋcama (pá), dhaevata (dhá) and niśáda (ni).

II

The sound ii is the acoustic root of the fourth note of the surasaptaka, madhyama (má). This sound directly controls madhyama, and indirectly controls paiṋcama (pá), dhaevata (dhá), and niśáda (ni). In ancient times, the very prolonged pluta ii was used in musical notation to denote kad́ii [hard or high-pitched] má, but in modern languages there is no separate letter for pluta ii.

U

The short u sound is the acoustic root of paiṋcama (pá), the fifth musical note. This sound directly controls paiṋcama (pá), and indirectly controls dhaevata (dhá) and niśáda (ni).

Ú

The long ú sound is the acoustic root of the sixth musical note, dhaevata (dhá). It directly controls dhaevata (dhá), and indirectly controls niśáda (ni).

R

The r sound is the seventh letter and seventh vowel of Southeast Asian alphabets, as well as of the Indo-Aryan alphabet. It is the acoustic root of the seventh musical note niśáda (ni). Niśáda is derived as follows: ni – sad + ghaiṋ. A sa sound occurring in any root-verb after the prefix ni may be changed into the letter śa, that is, nisáda and niśáda are both permissible. Similarly, upaniśad and upanisad are equally correct. But in Bengali there is a convention of using śa in such spellings. Now, if niśáda is written with śa, then both the Rgvedic and Yajurvedic pronunciations must be accepted.⁽⁶⁾ Of course singers singing scales need not utter the complete word niśáda, but only ni.

The sound r directly controls the seventh musical note, niśáda. As it is a half-letter [has no vowel sound],⁽⁷⁾ designated as such [in the Bengali alphabet] with a hasanta diacritical mark ( ্),⁽⁸⁾ it does not directly control any other sound.

RR

The rr sound is the acoustic root of oṋm. You may say, Since oṋm is the acoustic root of creation, preservation and destruction, and the acoustic root of Saguńa and Nirguńa [it is used to symbolize Nirguńa], how can rr be the acoustic root of oṋḿkára?

What is the sound oṋm (ওঁম, ॐम)?

Oṋm consists of five symbols: a, the acoustic root of creation; u, the acoustic root of preservation; ma, the acoustic root of destruction, (.), the symbol of the unmanifested universe; and ([BENGALI CRESCENT SYMBOL]), the symbol which signifies the process of manifestation.

A is not only the acoustic root of śad́aja, it is also the acoustic root of the force of creation. When the idea to create something arises in the mind of Parama Puruśa, or in the microcosmic mind, its acoustic root is the sound a. Since a is the acoustic root of creation, from which everything else proceeds, a is the first letter of the alphabet.

The sound u is the acoustic root of the fifth musical note, and is also the acoustic root of a few other factors, the force of preservation being one of them. When the desire to maintain the created entities arises in the mind of Parama Puruśa, or in the individual microcosmic mind, then the acoustic root of that sort of desire is u.

The sound m with hasant [indicating that its pronunciation is m rather than ma], as well as being the acoustic root of the tendency [prashraya vrtti] to treat someone or something indulgently, is the acoustic root of the vinásha [destruction] that occurs in the course of time. When people feel that something has become monotonous, they want to change it.

It should be remembered that vinásha does not mean complete annihilation, but transformation or metamorphosis. Complete annihilation is called pranásha. (In fact, nothing in this physical universe is subject to pranásha or complete annihilation. But philosophically, pranásha means that change which takes an entity back to its original form. If sugar made from sugar cane is transformed back into sugar cane, that will be the pranásha of the sugar. Thus from a philosophical point of view, if a microcosm, through sádhaná, merges into that Parama Puruśa from whom it originated, that will be the pranásha of that microcosm.) This m sound is the acoustic root of annihilation.

The manifested universe is constituted of creation, preservation and destruction (a-u-m). A + u = o, hence a + u + m = om. But that is not the end of the story; the dot (.) and the crescent ([BENGALI CRESCENT SYMBOL]) that form part of oṋḿkára are also important. The former represents the unmanifested universe; the latter represents the principle of transmutation from the unmanifested to the manifested.⁽⁹⁾ Hence, oṋm is the acoustic root of creation, preservation and destruction, plus the principle of transmutation from the unmanifested to the manifested.

The source of most acoustic roots is Tantra, although some of them already existed in the Vedas and were later accepted by Tantra. Oṋm is one of the latter. Those Dakśińácára Tantrics who do not want to accept annihilation as the last word, and thus do not want to place the acoustic root of destruction as the last sound, utilize the full letter ma as opposed to the half-letter m, and place the letters in the following order: u + ma + a = umá. According to Dakśińácára Tantra, “Umá” is another name of Paramá Prakrti.

Oṋḿkára is also called prańava (pra + nu + al), which literally means “that which helps tremendously in attaining the supreme stance”. In the Tripádavibhútináráyańa Shruti it has been said, Prańavátmakaḿ Brahma [“Brahma is in the form of prańava”]. Elsewhere it has been said,

Etaddhyevákśaraḿ Brahma etadevákśaraḿ param
Etadevákśaraḿ jiṋátvá Brahmaloke mahiiyate.

[This is the immutable Brahma, this is the supreme sound. After knowing this supreme sound, one attains the divine realm of Brahma.]

Now even though oṋm (which includes the dot and crescent) can serve as the acoustic root of this expressed universe, since oṋm is nevertheless a combination of sounds, it requires an acoustic root of its own. The acoustic root of another root is called atibiija or mahábiija. So rr is the mahábiija of oṋḿkára. This rr sound is necessary from the viewpoint of phonetics and of sandhi [the science of combining sounds]. Since it is an important acoustic root, it is imperative to decide whether such a letter should be deleted from the alphabet [as some linguists have suggested].

The Indo-Aryan alphabet consists of fifty letters from a to kśa. If any of these fifty letters is deleted, the entire alphabet will become defective and the acoustic importance of the letter concerned will be jeopardized. It is up to you to think over and decide whether rr should be retained in the alphabet or not.

LR

The sound lr is the acoustic root of the sound hummm and of its inner import. The sound hummm is itself the acoustic root of struggle, of sádhaná, and according to Tantra, of the kuńd́alinii. As hummm is the acoustic root of struggle, people call it the battle cry. You may have noticed that when sádhakas progress along the spiritual path and attain bliss they sometimes release the sound hummm spontaneously during the practice of sádhaná. It has been mentioned that the utterance of hummm during sádhaná is a sign of progress in Tantra.

According to Tantra the kulakuńd́alinii is the sleeping divinity. By virtue of sádhaná and with the help of mantrágháta [striking at the kulakuńd́alinii with powerful incantative vibrations] and mantra caetanya [conceptual understanding of and psychic association with a mantra], and

by smashing all obstacles, the kuńd́alinii can be raised to the sahasrára cakra. The practice adopted to raise the kuńd́alinii is called purashcarańa in Tantra. The kuńd́alinii is the sleeping divinity. To arouse it from slumber and raise it upwards is quite a struggle and hence hummm must also be the acoustic root of the kuńd́alinii. The controlling point of the kuńd́alinii, the múládhára, is called mańipadma or mahámańipadma in Maháyána Buddhist philosophy. The Tibetan Maháyániis recite Oṋḿ mańipadme hummm while turning their dharma cakras [prayer wheels]. I have seen Oṋḿ mańipadme hummm inscribed on the walls of Tibetan caves.

LRR

Lrr is the acoustic root of the sound phat́ (which is the acoustic root of putting a theory into practice) and is thus the atibiija, or mahábiija [super-acoustic root], of the phat́ biija. It is just like the sprouting of a seed, like a sudden awakening from slumber. When something which is sleeping or dormant suddenly bursts into the realm of light, we say colloquially [in Bengali] that it is making a phat́ sound. Lrr is also the acoustic root of the removal of lethargy. Hence, considering its enormous importance, it should not be deleted from the Bengali alphabet.

Each of the fifty letters is called mátrká varńa (“causal matrix”) because each is an acoustic root of some important factor, sound, vibration, divine or demoniacal propensity, human quality, or microcosmic expression. Thus no letter should be deleted from the alphabet. But the final decision in this regard rests in the hands of the scholars.

E

The rhythmic expression of mundane knowledge; the sprouting of mundane knowledge; mundane welfare; and the thought of mundane welfare; are symbolized by vaośat́. The sound e is the atibiija, or mahábiija, of the vibrations of vaośat́. In ancient times kings hungry for more land would pray to Indra, the king of the gods, to bless their Rájasúya Yajiṋa⁽¹⁰⁾ or Ashvamedha Yajiṋa [Horse Sacrifice] to help them attain a vast empire. On those occasions they would say, Eḿ Indráya vaośat́.

AE

The thought of welfare and the materialization of welfare in the subtler sphere are symbolized by vaśat́. Those who pray to Lord Shiva for all-round human welfare say, Aeḿ Shiváya vaśat́; those who pray to their guru for the attainment of subtle knowledge say, Aeḿ gurave vaśat́; and those who pray to the rain-god for relief from floods say, Varuńaya vaośat́ (in this case the thought of welfare is confined to the physical sphere). But those who pray for victory in war against the forces of wickedness, say, Varuńáya vaśat. Within the acoustic root vaśat́ lies the thought of welfare in the subtle sphere; it is the atibiija, or mahábiija, of the sense of blessing in the subtle sphere.

While uttering any incantation it is the common practice to add ḿ to the end of the acoustic root. Thus ae is pronounced as aeḿ.

Aeḿ is the acoustic root of vocalization. Linguistic expression is divided into six stages: pará, pashyanti, madhyamá, dyotamáná, vaekharii, and shrutigocará.

Whatever you have said, or are saying, or will say in future, lies within you as dormant vitality. A great potentiality lies dormant in each human being, just as a huge banyan tree lies latent within a tiny seed. The banyan seed sprouts when light, air, water and fertile soil exist in requisite amounts. It subsequently grows foliage and branches, and in the course of time develops into a gigantic tree. Similarly, the immense potentialities of human beings lie latent and hypnotized in the kulakuńd́alinii at múládhára cakra as dormant humanity. When the kuńd́alinii is raised upwards through mantrágháta and mantra caetanya in the process of meditation (this process is called purashcarańa in Tantra and amrtamudrá or ánandamudrá in yoga), the doors of human potentiality start opening one after another. Human beings grow in beauty and vitality, their flowers divine, their foliage lush. Such individuals develop into great people in the eyes of the public and finally become one with the Supreme Entity. This process is called parábhyudaya in the scriptures.

The first stage of linguistic expression, that is, language in its potential form or seed form, lies dormant in the múládhára cakra, and it leads through successively clearer stages of manifestation to full-fledged linguistic expression. This primordial phase of linguistic expression is called paráshakti, the primordial phase of vocalization.

Incidentally, I would like to say a few words about the fundamental paráshakti. The shakti [energy] with which unit beings discharge their physico-psycho-spiritual actions is called aparáshakti. Aparáshakti is by no means insignificant – it helps microcosms to maintain their existence and achieve greater evolution and elevation. But the energy with which microcosms direct their physico-psycho-spiritual efforts towards the divine and reach the highest rung of the evolutionary ladder by piercing every tender layer of microcosmic existence, is called paráshakti (this paráshakti, which is the primordial phase of vocalization, is not the same as the paráshakti or Supreme Operative Principle in the unbalanced triangle of forces). Here we are concerned with the ways of expression of language. All the potentialities of vocal expression lie dormant in the form of paráshakti at the múládhára cakra. Paráshakti is raised step by step and finally leads to the vocal expression of language.

If vocalization remains dormant in seed form at the múládhára, it is neither audible nor perceivable in the practical world. The latent paráshakti has got to be awakened. Human beings visualize whatever they want to communicate, sometimes only for a fraction of a second, consciously or unconsciously. If they are already aware of the name and form of the visualized object, they can progress further in the process of expression, otherwise that name or form will continue to remain in the abstract world. This stage, in which one can mentally visualize what one is going to communicate, is the second stage in the process of vocalization. Its controlling point is the svádhiśt́hána cakra. The energy which causes the visualization is called pashyanti. Pashyanti is derived from the root verb drsh plus shatr, and means “that which is seeing”.

This seeing is of two things: that which is original in the abstract world (its image is mostly indistinct) and that which is of a recurring nature in the abstract world, in other words, that which is reproduced from memory. Anubhútaviśayásampromaśah smrti. “After perceiving an object in the external world with the help of the eyes or any other external indriya, one often thinks about it.” The energy which helps one to visualize that thought is pashyanti shakti. This is the second stage of vocalization. Of course just to visualize the perceived object (with the help of pashyanti shakti) is not enough; other people cannot see your mental images or mental words, because those things belong to the psychic world. Linguistic expression pertains to the mundane world. Words are transmitted in the outer world through the medium of air or electro-magnetic waves, or some such medium. Mental images can be projected in the external world with the help of vital energy, but this sort of psychic projection is beyond the capacity of pashyanti shakti.

Ideas in the psychic world gain momentum with the addition of vital energy. This process of coordination must be consolidated step by step before ideas can be expressed through words in the external world. The human body’s energy, or indrashakti, or luminous factor, is located in the mańipura cakra.⁽¹¹⁾ The mańipura cakra maintains the body’s physical balance. When pashyanti shakti comes to the mańipura cakra and there receives the assistance of vital energy, it becomes madhyamá shakti. The controlling point of madhyamá shakti is the mańipura cakra or navel area.

To externalize an idea one has to apply physical energy (philosophically, this energy is called indra). We can call this stage the first expression of the sound tanmátra. Although this sound tanmátra is not audible to the external ear because it has not yet been vocalized, it does have internal sound.

The transformation of madhyamá shakti into the form of speech takes place at a point between the mańipura and vishuddha cakras. This is a state of calamánatá [mobility].⁽¹²⁾ The force which functions between the mańipura and vishuddha cakras, trying to give vocal expression to mental ideas, is called dyotamáná.

Dyotamáná shakti is expressed as a relentless effort to transform idea into language. If, however, in this process of transformation, the mind is affected by fear or by any other instinct, there will be only a partial or incoherent vocal expression.

In the dyotamáná stage, if the idea is not metamorphosed into a corresponding picture, or if there is any defect in the area between the mańipura and vishuddha cakras, or if there is no proper command over language, then vocal expression is bound to be affected. In such cases people are unable to give linguistic expression to things that they know. They say, “The idea’s in my mind but I just can’t find the words to express it.”

The dyotamáná stage exists in collective life, also. Ever since the dawn of human civilization, human beings have been searching for ways to fulfil their various desires: the desire to fly, the desire to move fast over land, the desire to reach the distant planets, the desire to cross the oceans. Sometimes they have succeeded, sometimes they have failed. But even after failure, they have not given up the struggle, but have persisted with renewed vigour. We are still waiting for that glorious day to arrive when we will be able to give a full and rich expression to the vast world of human thought. Today, however, we can only express a small fraction of the vast world of ideas.

The vocal cord lies in the area of the vishuddha cakra. It is the organ responsible for transforming abstract idea into vocal expression. The energy which helps in this task is vaekharii shakti. Vaekharii shakti is the energy which causes ideas to take the form of language. It is the fifth stage in the process of vocal expression. When someone talks too much, this is the uncontrolled expression of vaekharii shakti. Some pandits, in order to prove their intellectual might through intellectual extravaganza, indulge in such unnecessary vocalization. It has been said,

Vákvaekharii shabdayharii
Shástravyákhyána kaoshalaḿ;
Vaeduśyaḿ viduśáḿ tadvat
Bhuktaye na tu muktaye.

[Garrulousness, grandiloquence and conflicting interpretations of the scriptures are nothing but intellectual extravaganza. They do not lead to salvation, but merely satisfy the intellect.]

Neither individual life nor collective life is benefited from such useless talk. Pandits may receive temporary applause but they ultimately gain nothing but a big zero.

Even after an idea gets metamorphosed into language, if there is the slightest defect in the uvula, vocal expression will be disturbed. (The Sanskrit equivalents of “uvula” are lambiká, galashuńd́iká, and áljihvá.) Even if one articulates properly, one will not be able to speak correctly if there is any defect in the uvula.

The energy through which the exact language is conveyed to the human ears is called shrutigocará. This is the last stage in the process of vocalization. The sound ae is the acoustic root of the six stages of vocalization: pará, pashyanti, madhyamá, dyotamáná, vaekharii, and shrutigocará.

Ae is also called vágbhava biija, and is the acoustic root of the guru. People acquire knowledge through gurus, hence the guru is also invoked through this acoustic root: Aeḿ gurave namah. Those who believe in idol worship use this particular acoustic root in invoking the goddess of knowledge: Aeḿ sarasvatyae namah. And it is also used to invoke Shiva, the propounder of Tantra: Aeḿ Shiváya namah.

O

The acoustic root of the completion of an action is sváhá. When ghee is offered into the fire, that cannot be called sváhá. Only when the ghee is consumed by the fire, that is, the ghee is totally effaced from existence, can that be called sváhá.

The sváhá mantra is often uttered when any action is being done with a divine purpose. When action is performed with a noble purpose in the psychic and spiritual spheres, or even in the mundane sphere, the controlling acoustic root is sváhá. This is the meaning of sváhá in the general sense. More specifically sváhá is used while offering oblations to fire. In this sense it is related to the acoustic root svadhá. The general meaning of svadhá is “one who is self-reliant” (sva + dhác = svadhá). Sváhá is also used as an acoustic root for spiritual actions, while svadhá is used while making offerings to the ancestors.

In ancient times, in the entire Rgvedic period and in the first half of the Yajurvedic period, su and sva were used almost synonymously. But later they acquired different meanings: sva came to mean “own” (svadesha means “own country”) and su came to mean “good” (sujan means “good man”). One Sanskrit word for “good” is bhadra, from which the Bengali word bhálo comes. The Hindi word bháláii is the abstract noun of bhálá. In old Ráŕhii Bengali, the word bhálá is used in the sense of “look at”. It is an indigenous Bengali word. Ajaná pathik ek deshke eseche bhálgo. [“An unknown traveller has come to our land; look at him.” – Prabháta Saḿgiita]

Sváhá is split up as sva + áhá or su + áhá. In ancient times sváhá and svadhá were synonymous, but later sváhá came to convey the thought of welfare, that is, “Let there be prosperity,” and svadhá came to mean, “May the peace of God be with you.” Hence sváhá was used in the course of offering oblations to gods and goddesses, and svadhá for ceremonies in memory of departed ancestors.

In ancient times people used to observe a period of austerity before offering oblations to the gods or ancestors; this preparatory period was called adhivása. In the Vedic period, as far as is known, people had a great weakness for surá [an alcoholic drink]. (Sanskrit synonyms for surá are somarasa, madya, madhu, ásava, ariśt́a and sudhá.) During their adhivása the priests would of course have to abstain from drinking. So they would cover their shoulders with a mrgacarma⁽¹³⁾ [a deerskin – a symbol of their adhivása], so that other people would not invite them to drink. When they conducted rituals concerning the gods and goddesses, they would utter the sváhá mantra and would wear the skin on the left shoulder (in this case the skin was called yajiṋopaviita, or upaviita, for short); and when they conducted rituals concerning the ancestors, they would use the svadhá mantra and wear the skin on the right shoulder (in this case the skin was called práciináviita.) When they were not conducting either of these rituals, they would place the skin around their necks (in this case it was called niviita). While invoking the gods and goddesses, they would chant the sváhá mantra with the sampradána mudrá; for ceremonies using the vaośat́ and vaśat́ mantras, they would use the baradá mudrá; and for ceremonies involving the svadhá mantra they would use the aḿkusha mudrá.

A little while ago, I mentioned that su and sva could be used almost synonymously. [When reading mantras from ancient texts, people would understand from the context whether su or sva meant “good” or “own”.] But to use sva in place of su [in the sense of “good”] was not so common.

Rtaḿ pibantao sukrtasya loke
Guháyáḿ praviśt́ao parame parárdhe;
Cháyátapao Brahmavido vadanti
Paiṋcágnayo ye ca trińáciketáh.

“Human beings reap the consequences of their own karma [deeds].” In this shloka, sukrta is used instead of svakrta [to mean “done by oneself”, “own” (referring to karma, “deeds”)].

The human mind is divided into two functional chambers: the karttr ámi or subjective “I”, and the karma ámi or objectivated “I”. The objectivated “I” moves forward; the subjective “I” remains in the background, as an observer. “Just as it is difficult to discern the precise line between sunshine and shade, it is almost impossible to discern the transition point between the subjective ‘I’ and the objectivated ‘I’. This is what the brahmavids [knowers of Brahma] say, and it is corroborated by the paiṋcágnii, or renunciates, and the trińáciketa, or householders.”

Regarding the metempirical entity, the Vedas say:

Dvá suparńá sayujá sakháyá
Samánaḿ brkśaḿ pariśasvajáte;
Tayoranyah pippalaḿ svádvattyan
Ashnannanyo abhicákashiiti.

[Two friendly birds with beautiful plumage are perched on the same branch of a tree. One of them is eating the sweet fruit while the other looks on as a mere witness.]

The acoustic root sváhá signifies pious resolve and the psychic desire for universal welfare. The sound o is its super-acoustic root or atibiija. So whatever may be the importance of o in the alphabetical order, its value as an acoustic root is immense.

AO

The posture of surrender to the greatness of another person or entity is called namah mudrá or namomudrá. Such surrender results in one’s mental body being vibrated by the greatness of the Supreme. It is the person doing namomudrá who benefits, and not the one for whom the mudrá is performed. The way to do this mudrá to the guru is to lie prostrate before him with the palms placed together, that is, with the middle fingers of each hand placed parallel to each other. This represents the pinpointed concentration of mind which is directed towards the supreme goal.

In this mudrá all eight parts of the body are engaged. (According to áyurveda the human body has eight main parts. The áyurvedik system of medical treatment is called aśt́áuṋga [eight-limbed] cikitsá vijiṋána.) The body itself becomes as straight as a staff [one Sanskrit word for which is dańd́a], and thus one of the mudrá’s names is dańd́avat prańáma.⁽¹⁴⁾ This is namomudrá, the systematic endeavour to acquire greatness in return for one’s surrender unto greatness. [Namah is the acoustic root of acquiring greatness in life; and ao is the super-acoustic root of namah biija.]

The science of dance recognizes about 850 mudrás [meaningful gestures], such as namo mudrá, lalita mudrá, baradá mudrá, abhaya mudra, aḿkusha mudrá, mahá mudrá, kákacaiṋcu mudrá, tejasii mudrá, ámbhásii mudrá, párthivii mudrá, váyavii mudrá, ákáshii mudrá, bháva mudrá, shparshiká mudrá, cetasii mudrá, sarpa mudrá, kapálii mudrá, and many, many more.

In order to master the art of dance, one must become skilled in the art of mudrá. Dance as practised in human society can be broadly divided into two schools:⁽¹⁵⁾ chandapradhána nrtya [rhythmic dance] and mudrápradhána nrtya [mudraic dance]. Occidental dance (such as ballroom dance) is more rhythmic, whereas Oriental dance is more mudrá-oriented.⁽¹⁶⁾ Of course, mudrás are used in Occidental music also, but their role is secondary; and rhythm is an integral part of Oriental dance, but is nevertheless secondary to mudrá.

The sound ha is the acoustic root of the sun, of the stars, and of the ethereal factor. T́ha is the acoustic root of satellites, such as the moon. When the moon, which is the physical symbol of the psychic realm, and the sun, which is the physical symbol of mundane energy, are made to become one, that is called hat́ha yoga (Hat́hena kurute karma). When an action is done abruptly, out of sudden impulse, there is a sudden release of energy called hat́hatah (hat́ha + tas) or hat́hát (fifth case-ending of hat́ha in Sanskrit). A synonym of hat́hát is balát, meaning “by force” or “suddenly”; and another meaning of hat́hát is “to get expressed suddenly without giving any scope for thought”. To do something good or bad suddenly without prior thought is called balátkár. Remember that the meaning of balátkár is not necessarily a bad one.

The magnanimity of Shiva was as vast as the sky. People used to show their veneration for Him either in namah mudrá or with the sound ao. Hence the acoustic root of Shivatattva [essence of Shiva] is haoḿ: Haoḿ Shiváya namah. Those entities who were very dear to Shiva by virtue of their personal simplicity, naturalness and spirit of selfless service, were also revered using the sound ha. Shiva’s favourite flower was the common dhustara flower. Ha is the acoustic root of the dhustara flower. Thus you can easily understand why haoḿ is the acoustic root of Shiva.

AḾ

Aḿ is the acoustic root of an idea. The same sound, when uttered with a different mental ideation, acquires different meanings, and the effect it has varies from person to person. The word bet́á, for example, can be used as an endearing term for one’s child. A parent may say, Ájá bet́á, kháná khále [“Come, my dear child, come and eat your food”]. In this case bet́á (“my child”) sounds very pleasing to the ears; when the child hears it s/he feels very gratified. But one could also say, Áy bet́á toke dekhe noba; tor caudda puruśer shráddha karchi. [“Come here you wretch, I’ll teach you a lesson! I’m going to send you and fourteen generations of your ancestors to hell!”] In this case the utterance of bet́á injects poison into the mind of the listener. The acoustic root of the poisonous mentality which utters poisoned words is aḿ. The acoustic root of that pleasant ideation which adds sweetness to a word is ah. You should remember that whenever you speak to someone, or recite a poem, or play any part in a drama, or sing any song, you should know the underlying meaning of what you are expressing. Only then will you be able to touch your listeners’ hearts and influence them.

AH

There are some words which are neither good nor bad, but adopt a positive or negative meaning due to the way in which they are uttered or due to the mentality behind their utterance. Á jáná bet́á baet́hná, kháná kháye ho? [“Come and sit here, my child. Have you had anything to eat yet?”] In this example the word bet́á is very pleasing to the ears. It is uttered in such a sweet way that the child will feel gratified. But when someone says, Áy bet́á toke dekhe noba! [“Come here, you wretch, I’ll teach you a lesson!”] the word bet́á becomes repulsive.

If one tells a boy, Eso khoká miśt́i niye yáo [“Come, little child, take some sweets”], a very pleasant mentality is expressed. But if one says, O ár nyákámi kare khoká sájte habe ná, aman d́haḿ anek dekhechi [“Stop being so childish. I’m sick of it”], that same pleasing mentality is not expressed. The same word, khoká, when uttered with a different mentality takes on a different meaning. Where the mentality is bitter or repulsive, it is indicative of poison, and its acoustic root is aḿ; and where the mentality is sweet or attractive, it is indicative of nectar, and its acoustic root is ah. So when singing, or reciting a poem, or acting in a play, or even when saying ordinary things, one should have full control over one’s expression, be it pleasant or unpleasant. Singers should also remember this and sing accordingly. The controlling point of viśa [poison] and amrta [nectar] is the vishuddha cakra.⁽¹⁷⁾ Thus one should exercise a certain degree of control over the kúrma nád́ii [a nerve] at the vishuddha cakra.

KA

The way in which people think varies from individual to individual. The thought processes of sub-human creatures flow in four directions – towards food, sleep, survival, and procreation. Broadly speaking, human thought moves in five directions - towards food, sleep, survival, procreation and dharma. Yet there are many sub-streams. Human thought can be roughly divided into two categories: abhiipśátmaka (áshá vrtti) and vishuddha saḿvedanátmaka (cintá vrtti).

A major part of the world of thought revolves around áshá vrtti [the propensity of hope]. Goaded by this propensity, various creatures, especially human beings, are inspired to work in various ways. Ka is the acoustic root of the abhiipśátmaka áshá vrtti. It is also the acoustic root of Kárya Brahma [the expressed universe].

In ancient times, before people learned to dig in the ground, they collected water from the rivers and springs. Hence, anything that produced sounds like the roaring of rivers, the babbling of brooks, or the gushing of spring water, would inspire the hope of survival in their minds. Ka (derived from the root-verb kae plus suffix d́a) etymologically means “that which produces sound”. It also means “water”, and thus ka is the acoustic root of flowing water (va is the acoustic root of water in general).

If someone keeps a matted lock of hair on his or her head, it will be quite visible even from a distance. If the hair is properly oiled, it will become glossy. From kac, meaning “glossy”, we get another meaning of ka, “hair grown on the head”.

Hair when it is curly is called kuntala. And Shiva used to tie His hair in a knot in such a way that it pointed upwards. Hence just as one of Shiva’s names was “Vyomakesha”, meaning “Hair towards the Sky” (vyoma = “sky” and kesh = “hair”), He was also called “Khakuntala”, with the same meaning, since kha means “sky” and Shiva’s hair was curly.

And, as many people know, another name of Shiva was “Dhurjat́ii”.

We said before that ka is the acoustic root of Kárya Brahma. It is also the acoustic root of creation. According to Buddhist Mádhyamik and Saotántrik philosophy, one name for the created world is Saḿvrtti Bodhicitta (which is also another name of Kárya Brahma). The then Buddhist cult called those sádhakas who took the noble vow of serving all in the living and non-living worlds, kápálikas – Kaḿ [from ka] saḿvrtti bodhi cittaḿ pálayati iti kápálikah. Later on, the meaning and import of the word kápálika became distorted.

As mentioned, ka is the acoustic root of Kárya Brahma. Kárya Brahma (Saguńarasátmaka Brahma), represented by ka, is the controller of the living world. Ka + iisha = kesha. Kesha can mean “hair”; it can also mean Náráyańa.

KHA

While discussing ka I mentioned that human thoughts are sometimes guided by áshá vrtti, sometimes by cintá vrtti. The acoustic root of áshá vrtti is ka, and that of cintá vrtti [the propensity of worry] is kha. Suppose the train you are travelling by from Krishnanagar to Dignagar is running late. In that case you will not only think about the train being late, but of the probable inconveniences caused as a result, notably the inconvenience you will cause your host in Dignagar if you arrive at his house late and expect him to serve you food. So you decide to eat your supper somewhere near the station before proceeding to your host’s house. All thoughts such as these are symbolized by the acoustic root kha.

Suppose you are travelling from Krishnanagar to Matiyari. The thought passes through your mind that at one time Matiyari had an important brassware industry, which today is on the verge of collapse, resulting in thousands of its employees losing their jobs. You wonder whether it might be possible to revive the industry. But as you are not personally affected by the collapse of the industry, you are not a direct player in your own thoughts. Impersonal thoughts such as these are symbolized by the acoustic root kha.

Kha means “sky”, but kha is not the acoustic root of the sky. The acoustic root of the sky is ha. Kha also means “heaven”, but it is not the acoustic root of all of heaven, either. The crude aspects of heaven are represented by kha, whereas the sphere of heaven which transcends the crude is represented by kśa.

Ka is the acoustic root of Kárya Brahma. First comes ka, Kárya Brahma, and then follows the rest of creation. That is why ka is the first consonant. And as ka plus ha equals kha, ka is immediately followed by kha in the Indo-Aryan alphabet.

GA

Every entity, whether animate or inanimate, has the potentiality of expression. An animate entity can arouse that dormant potentiality through both external and internal means, whereas an inanimate entity acquires impetus through external means. Suppose poetic genius lies dormant in a certain person. If he arouses that latent genius by applying his will-force, he can become a renowned poet. But if he fails to do that due to lethargy or for some other reason, his poetic genius will remain unexpressed. The effort made to arouse one’s dormant potentiality is called ceśt́á. Ceśt́á is one of the psychic vrttis [propensities] and is the main cause of mundane development and spiritual elevation. So its value in the mundane and supramundane spheres is immense.

Ga, being the acoustic root of ceśt́á vrtti, plays an important role in the physical, psychic and spiritual spheres of human life.

GHA

Mamatá, the vrtti of love and attachment of human beings and all other creatures, is related to time, space and individuality. It is not unusual for people to praise even the goods of the poorest quality manufactured in their own country and criticize the best-quality goods made in other countries. This occurs due to their irrational attachment for a certain place. It is a kind of psychic disease. The same sort of thing occurs in individuals as well. The mother who feels so much love and affection for her child that she sacrifices everything in life for its comfort and welfare, mercilessly slices young kai fish [walking fish] into pieces without the slightest emotional feeling. The young kai fish cry out in the agony of death, but the cruel heart of the human mother does not melt. Mamatá vrtti is also related to the time factor. The same mother cow who so lovingly suckles her calves and licks them clean today kicks them away when they grow up tomorrow.

Thus mamatá vrtti is limited by the relative factors. Only human beings can make mamatá vrtti transcend the boundaries of time, space and individuality, after persistent and intense efforts. This is something impossible for other beings. Gha is the acoustic root of mamatá vrtti.

UṊA

Uṋa is the acoustic root of dambha vrtti [the propensity of vanity]. The popular story goes that the great sage Vashiśt́ha travelled to China to learn the Chinese school of Tantra. In China he learnt the use of una in the utterance of Tantric mantras, and introduced it in India on his return. Una is used extensively in all the dialects of the Indo-Chinese languages, even in Tibetan, Laddaki, Sherpa, Manpa, etc. It is said that Vashiśt́ha learned that una is the acoustic root of vanity. It is also said that he first learned the Tárá cult of the Buddhist Vámácára Tantra from China. Since then in Buddhist Tantra, the Tárá cult has been trifurcated: Ugra Tárá or Vajra Tárá is worshipped in India; Niila Tárá, or Niila Sarasvatii, is worshipped in Kiḿpuruśavarśa (Tibet), and Bhrámarii Tárá (Krśńa Tárá) is worshipped in China.

It is believed that in the post-Buddhist period Vajra Tárá or Ugra Tárá was accepted as the Tárá deity in Varńáshrama Dharma [medieval Hinduism]. Today names such as Tárá Dás, Tárápada, Tárá Kumar, etc., are quite common. It is generally accepted that the Niila Tárá, or Niila Sarasvatii, of Tibet was later converted into the [Hindu] goddess Sarasvatii by the supporters of Varńáshrama Dharma.

The acoustic root of Vajra Tárá of India and Niila Tárá of Tibet is aeḿ. The black-coloured Bhrámarii Tárá of China is accepted as the goddess Kálii in Varńáshrama Dharma. Their acoustic root is the same, kriiḿ (ka symbolizing Kárya Brahma plus ra symbolizing the luminous factor).

CA

Ca is the acoustic root of viveka [conscience].

CHA

Cha is the acoustic root of vikalatáh vrtti [nervous breakdown]. A nervous breakdown occurs when one’s mind, which had previously been functioning properly, either starts malfunctioning or stops functioning altogether.

JA

Una is the acoustic root of dambha vrtti [the propensity of vanity]; ja is the acoustic root of ahaḿkára vrtti (ego). The ego becomes inflated when one allows one’s “I” feeling to take a predominant role. “Since I was there, I was able to control the situation. But I wonder what would have happened in my absence. I’m sure that had I not been there the world would have met its final destruction.” So spoke Aurangzeb, the last powerful Mughal emperor of India. It is an expression of ahaḿkára vrtti.

JHA

Jha is the acoustic root of lolupatá, lobha [greed] and lolatá [avarice] vrttis. The Bengali word nolá [the greedy fascination of a cat or a dog] is derived from lola or lolatá.

IṊA

Ina is the acoustic root of kapat́atá vrtti [hypocrisy]. Another Sanskrit word for “hypocrite” is páśańd́a, which was more widely used in the past. In Hindi a hypocrite is called pákhańd́ii. Hypocrisy can take many forms, but we are mainly acquainted with the following three: (1) getting one’s purpose served by exploiting or cheating others; (2) unnecessarily dominating somebody to conceal one’s own ignorance or weakness; (3) pretending to be moral by criticizing the sins of others, which one secretly commits oneself.

T́A

T́a is the acoustic root of vitarka vrtti [overstating one’s case]. Many people think that vitarka means a type of debating, but this is only partially true. It also means overstating one’s case to the point of garrulousness. Vitarka is a combination of a bad temper and garrulousness. It is in no way synonymous with kaśáya vrtti [speaking harshly to hurt others]. The following is an example of vitarka vrtti.

Suppose a person arrives at the Howrah railway station in Calcutta a little late and asks a well-dressed gentleman, “Excuse me, sir, has the Uluberia local train departed yet?” The gentleman snaps angrily, “Is it my duty to keep information about the Uluberia local train? Am I a railway timetable? How idiotic! People like you make life hell for others. This is the reason the country is going to the dogs. What do you think I am, an enquiry office?” Another gentleman standing nearby says helpfully, “Were you asking about the Uluberia local? The train will leave from platform eleven in five minutes. If you hurry you’ll catch it.”

The first gentleman has an uncontrolled vitarka vrtti whereas the second gentleman has uttered pramita vák [balanced statements]. In pramita vák only relevant words are used.

T́HA

T́ha is the acoustic root of anutápa vrtti [repentance]. One is seized by a feeling of repentance when one realizes (either from within or with the help of a second person) the impropriety of one’s action. In northern India anutápa is called pascháttápa. Both anu and paschát mean “later” or “after”; tápa means “heat”.

D́A

D́a is the acoustic root of lajjá vrtti [the propensity of shyness].

D́HA

Senseless, sadistic killing is called pishunatá vrtti. If meat-eaters slaughter animals in the way that inflicts the least pain, that is not pishunatá; but if they kill them slowly and cruelly, first chopping off their legs, then their tails, then their heads, it is definitely pishunatá. These days in many civilized countries people are unable to give up meat-eating, but have at least devised modern methods to kill the animals less painfully. But remember, the killing of animals, no matter how it is done, is contrary to the spirit of Neohumanism.

Once I saw a harrowing sight in a market place: part of a live tortoise had just been chopped off and sold, but the poor creature was not completely dead and was trying to crawl away, leaving a stream of blood. Such cruel things should be abolished altogether. The cruel slaughter of that innocent tortoise is certainly a case of pishunatá.

To kill human beings is totally undesirable, but if people do want to eliminate their enemies, they should do so with a minimum of torture. The kings of old used to kill criminals by impaling them on spikes; or by half-burying them in the ground, sprinkling salt over them, and letting the dogs eat them. Sometimes people were flayed alive. These actions certainly deserve universal condemnation. They are all examples of pishunatá.

ŃA

Ńa is the acoustic root of iirśá vrtti [the propensity of envy].

TA

Ta is the acoustic root of staticity, long sleep and deep sleep. It is also the acoustic root of intellectual dullness and spiritual inertness. That which brings about the cessation of dullness and staticity is called Tantra – Taḿ jádyát tárayet yastu sa tantrah parikiirttitah.

The root-verb tan means “to expand”. If a person bound by ropes manages to expand his body, the ropes will snap automatically. That which leads to liberation through tan, expansion, is also Tantra – Taḿ vistáreńa tárayet yastu sah tantrah parikiirttitah.

THA

Tha is the acoustic root of viśada vrtti, of melancholy (melancholiness, melancholia).

DA

Da is the acoustic root of peevishness. If one speaks in a nice way to a peevish person, he or she reacts adversely; if one speaks in a harsh way, he or she takes it calmly.

DHA

Dha is the acoustic root of thirst for acquisition. This limitless craving for wealth, name, fame, power and prestige is called trśńa in Sanskrit. Here trśńa does not mean “thirst for water”. To divert all the pure and impure thoughts of the mind towards Parama Puruśa is the only cure for limitless psychic craving.

NA

Na is the acoustic root of moha vrtti [blind attachment or infatuation]. This propensity of blind attachment is usually divided into the four categories of time, space, idea and individuality. When one loses one’s rationality out of blind attachment for one’s country, it is called deshagata moha, “geo-sentiment”. People who live in a country where not even a blade of grass grows, where people die of starvation, and which imports huge quantities of food grains from other countries, become so infatuated with their country that they say it has an abundance of water, has a bountiful fruit harvest, and is a net exporter of food to other countries.

Kálagata moha is blind attachment for a particular period of time. One becomes so attached to a certain period of time that one is unable to discern its positive or negative aspects. Some people complain that the behaviour of the present generation of children is disappointing. They say that when they were young they could easily digest iron pans, but the present generation has trouble digesting even water! They lament the great misfortune that has befallen the present age.

When a particular idea has a strong impact on mind, the mind rushes towards it again and again. Thieves, in the shock of the moment, always make a quick getaway from the scene of the crime. Later, however, they brood repeatedly about the place, and often return, straight into the hands of the police! A person who uses an object for a long time develops a fascination for that object. This is called ádháragata moha [fascination for an object]. There are many rich people who have a strange weakness for some old, battered object such as a rickety chair with one arm broken off. I know a story about how a pretty pot made of bell-metal was the cause of a bitter quarrel among the daughters-in-law of a certain family, so bitter that it led to the eventual break-up of the family. Na is the acoustic root of moha vrtti.

The only way to free oneself from the clutches of infatuation is to superimpose the ideation of indifference and divert one’s mental thoughts towards Parama Puruśa. It may be possible to control this propensity of wild fascination temporarily by intimidation or by enacting laws, but only temporarily. Those who believe in the equal distribution of the world’s wealth, naively underestimate the power of moha vrtti. The human mind can be sublimated only by spiritual ideation, not by any high-sounding philosophy. This utopian idea has proved ineffective in the past and in the present and will continue to prove so in the future.

PA

Pa is the acoustic root of ghrńá vrtti [the propensity of hatred or revulsion].

The underlying weaknesses which cause immense harm to human beings are called ripus [enemies]. They are six in number: káma [longing for physicality], krodha [anger], lobha [avarice], mada [vanity], moha [blind attachment], and mátsarya [jealousy]. And when our various mental bondages exploit these ripus in order to tighten their grip on the mind, they become known as páshas [fetters]. These páshas are eight in number:

Ghrńá shauṋká bhayaḿ lajjá
Jugupsá ceti paiṋcamii;
Kulaḿ shiilaiṋca mánaiṋca
Aśt́ao pásháh prakiirttitáh.

[Hatred, doubt, fear, shyness, dissemblance, vanity of lineage, cultural superiority complex and egotism – these are the eight fetters.]

Pa is the acoustic root of the fetter of hatred. It is a defect not directly traceable to any one ripu, but stemming from more than one ripu. Although hatred and fear are related to other ripus, they are mainly related to the moha ripu, or propensity of blind attachment. [E.g., when one’s desire for something becomes frustrated, one may develop hatred for what was the object of desire.]

When one’s psychic attraction is toward the crude, the mind has a downward tendency (in Sanskrit the root-verb pat or patati carries this sense), which leads to one’s eventual downfall. But when the mind moves upward it is called anurakti [attraction for the Great]. The consummation of this attraction is devotion. For this the Sanskrit verb is úrdhva gam or úrdhva gacchati.

One who is weakened by excessive attachment to alcohol falls an easy prey to the fetters of hatred and fear. Moha ripu makes people the objects of hatred to others, and makes others the objects of fear to them. Such is the deceptive allurement of moha vrtti that people rush toward their objects of desire without any discrimination. I already explained the different types of moha while discussing the consonant na.

PHA

Pha is the acoustic root of bhaya vrtti [the propensity of fear]. Though fear is generally caused by more than one factor, it is mainly born of moha ripu.

BA

Ba is the acoustic root of avajiṋá vrtti [indifference]. When one ignores something which is actually unacceptable, that is called upekśá, but when one neglects something which may actually have some value, that is called avajiṋá. Avajiṋá is somewhat similar in meaning to avahelá. Upekśá is not always used in a bad way, but avahelá certainly has a negative connotation. It is said,

Maetrii-karuńá-muditopekśáńáḿ-sukha-duhkha-puńyá -
Puńyaviśayánáḿ bhávanátashcittapra-sádanam.

Often when someone sees another person who is happy in life he or she feels pangs of jealousy; but this is not an ideal attitude. An ideal person will develop a benign attitude toward the happy person, saying, “That person is in such a happy frame of mind - may he stay that way forever.” And for those people who live in misery one should develop an attitude of compassion. One should never feel happy upon seeing the sorrows of others, but should think, “What a miserable life that person is leading. I hope things get better for him soon.”

Neither should one be jealous of a person who performs many virtuous deeds and charitable actions. Rather one should think well of the person since he or she is doing good work. “Let his intellect continue to inspire him to perform such virtuous actions. I fully support him.” And if someone is engaged in unrighteous deeds, his neighbours should ignore his dark side, and should not repeatedly condemn him. One should say, “Well, I’m not bothered by what he says or does – that’s his own business.” But this attitude of tolerance can only be accepted to a certain extent. If the person’s sinful or wicked actions harm society and disrupt social life, one can no longer afford to be indifferent.

BHA

Bha is the acoustic root of the múrcchá vrtti. Here múrcchá does not mean senselessness; it means to lose one’s common sense under the hypnotic spell of a particular ripu. To avoid the unsalutary effects of murcchá vrtti, one should direct one’s mind along the path of righteousness through the practice of pratyáhára yoga.

Those who have not learned the technique of pratyáhára yoga⁽¹⁸⁾ should do kiirtana aloud or sing devotional songs to escape the clutches of múrcchá vrtti.

MA

Ma is the acoustic root of prańásha [the propensity of annihilation]. It is also the acoustic root of prashraya vrtti - giving latitude [or treating with indulgence] – in Hindi baŕhvá dená.

YA

Ya is the acoustic root of avishvása vrtti [lack of confidence], and is also the acoustic root of constant movement (like the movement of air). You may have met people who have no confidence in themselves at all, even if they are told to be self-confident. Such people say right up to the end of their lives, “Shall I be able to do it?” They can never accomplish anything great in this world. As they also lack confidence in others, others have no confidence in them.

RA

Ra is the acoustic root of agnitattva or práńashakti – vitality. (Raḿ biijaḿ shikhinaḿ dhyáyet, trikońam-aruńaprabham.) It is also the acoustic root of sarvanásha [the thought of annihilation]. Sarvanásha causes people to think, “I have nothing of my own. Everything is gone. I am undone.” Such a negative outlook can only be cured with the constant auto-suggestion, “Parama Puruśa is mine,” which in the language of Tantra is called guru mantra. The feeling that one is defeated in life is ra-biijátmak [symbolized by ra], and its cure is the auto-suggestion that “I have come to win. I am destined to win.” People of developed mentality try to keep the minds of people of such negative outlook free from the unhealthy effect of that mentality by outer-suggestion. To do this is the duty of each and every good person. We should see that our fellow human beings are never allowed to throw themselves into the abyss of frustration and disappointment; they should be rescued before they jump.

Ra is also the acoustic root of fire. So the monosyllabic word ra means “fire”.

LA

La is the acoustic root of kruratá vrtti [cruelty]. When human beings encounter this propensity in other human beings, they should counteract it with the propensity of compassion. When one sees someone in the throes of misery one should think, “Oh, what great misery the man is suffering from! Is there anything I can do to reduce his misery? Although the person is a human in all other respects, how crude he is in thought and behaviour. Can’t I help him to arouse his latent intellect?” This attitude of compassion is the effective counter-measure for kruratá vrtti.

La is also the acoustic root of kśititattva, the solid factor.

Laḿ biijaḿ dharańiiḿ dhyáyet
Caturásráḿ supiitábhám.

VA

Va is the acoustic root of dharma. Dharma means ensconcement in one’s original stance. The innate propensity of human beings is to move along the path towards subtlety in the psychic and spiritual spheres, and finally to merge into Parama Puruśa. The unbroken movement of the human mind towards Parama Puruśa is called mánava dharma. It moves one from a state of ordinary happiness ever forward and eventually establishes one in the realm of Supreme Beatitude.

Sukhaḿ váinchati sarvvo hi
Tacca dharma samudbhútah;
Tasmáddharmah sadákáryah
Sarvavarńaer prayatnátah.

[All living beings long for happiness. Dharma originates from that innate propensity. Hence dharma should always be observed meticulously by all people.]

Dhriyate dharma ityáhuh sa eva paramaḿ prabhu.

[Dharma is that which sustains.]

The seed of humanity cannot sprout and flourish unless it is planted in the soil of dharma. To diverge from the path of dharma means to rush headlong towards total annihilation. In all one’s actions one should keep Parama Puruśa as the goal, and be well-established in dharma.

Va is also the acoustic root of jalatattva [the liquid factor], and the acoustic root of the mythological rain-god Varuńa Deva. Jalatattva means not only water, but any liquid.

SHA

Sha is the acoustic root of rajoguńa [the mutative principle]. It is also the acoustic root of artha [psychic longing].

Of the four vargas [basic goals of life], one, already mentioned, is dharma, whose acoustic root is va; the second varga is artha, which brings about the temporary cessation of worldly wants. (That which brings about the permanent cessation of worldly wants is Paramártha.)

Sha is the acoustic root of both artha and the mutative principle. Ra is the acoustic root of energy. So shra is indicative of the mutative principle supplemented by vitality. Shra + uṋiiś (feminine suffix) = shrii.

The expression of vital energy arising due to the influence of the mutative principle on one’s existence is natural for human beings in the mundane sphere. Hence the practice of using shrii before someone’s name [as a blessing on one’s dynamism] has been the custom since ancient times.

ŚA

Śa is the acoustic root of tamoguńa [the static principle], and is also the acoustic root of all kinds of worldly desires - desires for things such as wealth, opulence, name, fame and social position. The word káma is used in Sanskrit as the collective term for these desires and longings.

Dharma [psycho-spiritual longing], artha [psychic longing], káma [physical longing], and mokśa [spiritual longing, the longing for unqualified liberation] are the four recognized longings or goals of human life.

To avoid any confusion, I say once again in unambiguous terms that káma means all types of physical longings.

SA

Sa is the acoustic root of mokśa [salvation, unqualified liberation]. (As mentioned, va is the acoustic root of dharma, ensconcement in one’s original stance; sha is the acoustic root of artha, the removal of worldly wants; and śa is the acoustic root of káma, worldly [and especially physical] wants.) Each of the letters is the acoustic root of one of the four vargas. Va is additionally the acoustic root of the liquid factor; sha is the acoustic root of rajoguńa; śa is the acoustic root of tamoguńa; and sa is the acoustic root of sattvaguńa [the sentient principle].

HA

Ha is the acoustic root of the ethereal factor, of daytime, of the sun, of svarloka, and of parávidyá [intuitional science]. Opposite to ha is t́ha, which is the acoustic root of nighttime, of the moon, of bhúvarloka,⁽¹⁹⁾ and of the kámamaya kośa.⁽²⁰⁾

Ha + ao = hao, which is the acoustic root of Shiva in His posture of dancing táńd́ava. But the acoustic root of Shiva in His role of spiritual preceptor is aeḿ. (It has already been noted that aeḿ is also the acoustic root of one’s preceptor and of the goddess of learning – Aeḿ gurave namah; Aeḿ Sarasvatyae namah).

KŚA

Kśa is the acoustic root of mundane knowledge, and is also the acoustic root of material science.

Footnotes

(1) Editors’ note: Each of the notes is represented by a single syllable, just as in Western music the notes are represented by do-re-mi. But each of the notes is further represented by an animal associated with its syllable.

(2) Editors’ note: The Indo-Aryan alphabet is divided into vargas, “groups”, of phonetically-related sounds. The ka varga, for example (whose second consonant is kha), consists of sounds produced in the throat (gutturals).

(3) Editors’ note: According to normal Sanskrit grammar, if a is followed by a, the two combine to become á.

(4) Editors’ note: Of the three pronunciations used in Indian song to which the author refers, the saḿvrta is slightly prolonged, the vilambita is more prolonged, and the pluta is most prolonged.

(5) Editors’ note: 5018 songs composed by the author.

(6) Editors’ note: As indicated earlier, the Rgvedic pronunciation śa has a corresponding Yajurvedic pronunciation kha.

(7) Editors’ note: In spite of the fact that it is grouped with the vowels, and that in speech people find it difficult to pronounce without giving it some vowel sound.

(8) Editors’ note: In cases where it is converted to ra, such as when the noun rśi becomes the adjective árśa.

(9) Editors’ note: The combination of the two – dot plus crescent - is paralleled in Roman Sanskrit by the letter “ṋ”. Either the Bengali/Devanagari or the Roman version represents, so far as phonetics is concerned, a nasalization of the vowel it is associated with. Note also that m becomes ḿ for euphony when followed by a consonant, such as in oṋḿkára.

(10) Editors’ note: A royal ceremony in which a king would expect to be accepted as sovereign king.

(11) Author’s note: As the navel area is the controlling point of the luminous factor, it is not easily burnt. It is only with the application of tremendous heat that it can be burnt to ashes. A funeral pyre does not generate sufficient heat to burn the navel area. So those who cremate their loved ones retrieve this unburnt portion from the ashes and immerse it in any holy river. This practice is popularly known as asthivisarjana.

(12) Author’s note: Just as the root-verb cal [move] plus suffix shatr equals calat [that which is in motion], cal plus shánac equals calamána.
The root-verb cal is ubhayapadii [both átmanepadii and parasmaepadii – terminologies of conjugation in ancient Sanskrit]. In the early part of the Vedic age it was mainly used in the átmanepadii form, but later on began to be used in the parasmaepadii form. In modern Sanskrit, it is used in the parasmaepadii form. Only in a few rare cases is the átmanepadii form used, as in the following example, a well-known utterance of Lord Buddha:

Ihásane shuśyatu me shariiram.
Tvagasthimáḿsaḿ pralayanca yátu.
Aprápya bodhiḿ bahukalpadurlabhám
Naevásanát káyamatashcaliśyate.

[Until I attain the highest realization, which is rare even in hundreds of lives, I will not budge an inch from this posture, even if my skin, flesh and bones dry up and my body perishes.]

Dyotamáná is a shánac-ending word. Since olden days, the átmanepadii form dyotate has been used.

Dyotate kriid́ate yasmádudyate dyotate divi;
Tasmáddeva iti proktah stúyate sarvadevataeh.

[The vibrational manifestations emanating from the Supreme Nucleus are known as devatás, and these devatás address that Supreme Nucleus as Deva. He with His powers vibrates the entire universe, makes the entire universe dance; and He by dint of His occult and supra-occult powers brings everything back onto His lap.]

(13) Author’s note: Mrga literally means “wild animal”, and thus both a deer and a tiger are equally mrga. Hence literally mrgacarma means not only “deerskin”, but the skin of any wild animal. In those days the kings hunted not only deer, but also other wild animals.
Later on, perhaps, the deerskin became somewhat rare, so people introduced the use of cotton in its place. Even today in certain sections of Indian society people wear a piece of deerskin during the holy-thread ceremony.

(14) Editors’ note: This straight posture symbolizes that although one may or may not be straight in all mundane activities, one is as simple and straight as can be before the entity being revered.

(15) Author’s note: Dance should not be called shilpa – literally, “that which is done with the hands” – because in dance, the legs, neck, chin and other parts of the body are also used. In some dances every part of the body has a certain role to play.

(16) Editors’ note: Philology of “oriental”, “occidental”, and other words omitted here.

(17) Editors’ note: Not only aḿ and ah, but all sixteen vowel sounds, are located at the vishuddha cakra. For correlation of other sounds with their respective cakras, see “Plexi and Microvita” in Yoga Psychology.

(18) Editors’ note: In Ananda Marga sádhaná, shuddhis (visualizations for withdrawing the mind) and Guru Pújá.

(19) Editors’ note: The lokas of the Macrocosmic Mind are Its different “levels”, or “layers”, or “spheres”. They represent different stages on a continuum from subtle to crude. And the kámamaya kośa represents such a stage in both the Macrocosmic Mind and the microcosmic mind. The kámamaya kośa of the microcosm is its “crude mind”, as it is the layer of mind closest to the physical body. It is concerned with physical sensations and physical desires.

(20) Editors’ note: The lokas of the Macrocosmic Mind are Its different “levels”, or “layers”, or “spheres”. They represent different stages on a continuum from subtle to crude. And the kámamaya kośa represents such a stage in both the Macrocosmic Mind and the microcosmic mind. The kámamaya kośa of the microcosm is its “crude mind”, as it is the layer of mind closest to the physical body. It is concerned with physical sensations and physical desires.