1. Bhaja Govindam Follow Your Heart Chandrika.epub

Adi Sankaracharya's Bhaía Govindam

FOLLOW YOUR HEART

Chandrika

Adi Sankaracharya's Bhais Govindam

FOLLOW YOUR HEART

Adi Sankaracharya

Adi Sankaracharya's Bhaía

Govindam

FOLLOW YOUR HEART

Chandrika

FS

VAKILS, FEFFER & SIMONS PVT. LTD. Industry Manor, 2nd Floor, A. Marathe Marg, Prabhadevi, Mumbai 400 025.

Copyright C Vakils, Feffer & Simons Pvt. Ltd.

All rights reserved

Book Design : Vakils Premedia

First Printing 2008

Price in India Rs. 290/-

Published by Arun K. Mehta for Vakils, Feffer and Simons Pvt. Ltd. Industry Manor, Appasaheb Marathe Marg Prabhadevi, Mumbai 400 025, India

Printed by Bimal A. Mehta at Vakil & Sons Pvt. Ltd. Industry Manor, Appasaheb Marathe Marg Prabhadevi, Mumbai 400 025, India

ISBN No. : 978-81-8462-077-1

Web site : www.vakilspublications.com

E-mail : [email protected]

Phone : 0091-22-2430 6780

Fax : 0091-22-2422 5111

To my daughter, Dharini ... who taught me the wonder of words And to the eternal Govinda ... who gave my words, wings

Contents

Preface

The Life of Adi Sankara

Adi Sankara's Contribution to Hinduism

Sankara's Literary Achievement

Bhaja Govindam - Meaning and Message

Publisher's Note

Verse 1

Verse 2

Verse 3

Verse 4

Verse 5

Verse 6

Verse 7

Verse 8

Verse 9

Verse 10

Verse 11

Verse 12

Verse 13

Verse 14

Verse 15

Verse 16

Verse 17

Verse 18

Verse 19

Verse 20

Verse 21

Verse 22

Verse 23

Verse 24

Verse 25

Verse 26

Verse 27

Verse 28

Verse 29

Verse 30

Verse 31

The Relevance of Bhaja Govindam, Today

Bibliography

Glossary

The Life of Adi Sankara

I T IS OFTEN SAID THAT when the earth is weighed down with grief and can no longer bear man's atrocities, when humanity is lost and bereft of purpose, when crime rears its ugly head, and compassion is forgotten, then a soul is born who can steer the destiny of the universe. However, that preparations for such an event were on in the cosmos was completely unknown to a humble couple from Kerala, who were to be its chief movers. As was their wont, the learned Brahmin Sivaguru and his wife, Aryamba, prayed every day, so they could be blessed with a child. Until, one night, Lord Shiva, to whom they sent up their petitions, decided to respond ... but in his own unique way. Appearing before them, he asked, "Do you wish to have a hundred sons or just one?" The couple was confused. "What kind of question is that, Lord?" they asked. To which, he continued in response, "You see, if you want a hundred, they will all live long lives, but will certainly be quite useless! On the other hand," and Shiva paused meditatively, "you can have one son, who will be the very incarnation of wisdom ... " Both listeners nodded vigorously, till Shiva raised a hand ... "Let me finish please .... that son's life will be brief, very brief indeed ... " For a moment, both faces fell. But only for an instant. The choice was clear. With quiet finality, they said, "One son, Lord, just one ... " In the silence of that still night, the earth heaved a sigh of relief.

The Prodigious Prodigy And so in these suitably miraculous circumstances, in the little town of Kaladi, on the banks of the river Purna, in the state of Kerala, in south India, the boy, who was named Sankara, was born. Sivaguru's joy was short lived. He passed away just three years after Sankara's birth. But the boy, the result of Shiva's boon, was in every sense of the term a wonder. He learnt to read and write by the time he was three and was composing his own works at the tender age of six! Of course, for Aryamba, there were practical concerns as well. So, she performed his upanayana, (thread ceremony initiating a child into the fold of scholars), to start him off on his formal schooling when he was five years old. It meant that Sankara would have to stay at the home of his teacher for all the years it took him to complete his education. Aryamba need not have feared. In just three years, little Sankara was back. It seemed that he had learnt everything that his

teacher had to impart to him! Not only that! Aryamba was soon regaled with stories of her son's incredible intelligence and kind- heartedness. A friend recounted, "Aryamba, listen ... when your Sankara was at his teacher's ashram, he set out one day, to ask for alms, as is the custom for all students. Sankara's wanderings took him to the house of a poor couple in the village. So poor indeed that they too lived off the alms of others! To this poverty-stricken abode, Sankara went in search of his daily bread. Inside, the woman of the house was busy about her chores, when, all of a sudden she heard the sweetest, most plaintive voice raised in prayer. She ventured out, to see Sankara there. To her it seemed that his face radiated a divine glow. And yet, the sight of him only drove her to despair. For what did she have, that she could give him? Frantically, she searched her kitchen, for something, anything that she could offer, anything but turn that lad away, empty handed. Finally, from behind a door something rolled out - a dried gooseberry. With great trepidation she presented it to Sankara. She waited for his response. But the lad took it as if it were a gift of the gods. For, so well was he able to see into the heart of things, that he did not notice the little wrinkled fruit. Instead he perceived only the enormous love, the large-hearted generosity, the humble affection which prompted the gesture. And from him burst forth a prayer to Goddess Mahalakshmi, to bless the woman with wealth to equal her devotion. It was to be Sankara's first original composition, entitled Kanakadharastava. Yet, such was its power, that as he finished his utterance, golden gooseberries showered upon the hut, ridding the woman, once and for all, of her poverty." Aryamba smiled in understanding. She believed that, for her son, anything was indeed possible. She recollected a day soon after Sankara had returned home. She had been ailing for a while and every morning as she trudged stoically, the distance to the river Purna for her bath, she felt herself weakening. Sankara observed his mother's determination but also her inability. Overcome by compassion, he addressed a simple invocation to the river. To Aryamba's complete surprise, the river suddenly seemed to stop, change its course, and come sweeping right up to her doorstep flowing just beside it! Never again would Aryamba have to walk to the river. Through Sankara's intervention, the river had come to her! But while Aryamba was sure of Sankara's abilities, there were many recesses in her son's mind that she was yet to fathom. For, while Sankara was only eight years old, his thoughts were anything but childish. Even at so tender an age, he had decided that he would pursue a course of study and renunciation, a path that would require

him to detach himself from all material existence. It was a thought he had tried expressing to his mother, but he was met with strong resistance. After all, Sankara was Aryamba's only child. And she harboured within her a strong desire to see him surrounded by a loving family consisting of wife and many children! Of course, Sankara would have none of that. Yet, he was loath to leave home without his mother's permission. Caught as he was on the very horns of a dilemma, Sankara appeared hopelessly immobilized. The time, it seemed, was ripe for divine intervention. One day, as Sankara went into the river for his bath, his mother was startled to hear a piercing cry for help. She rushed to the river's edge, to see the most appalling of sights - her son's leg in the deathly grip of a crocodile. As Sankara waged a futile struggle and his mother wailed helplessly, it seemed that everything was lost. But then, all of a sudden, Sankara called out to his mother, in clear, ringing tones. "Mother, give me permission to become a sanyasi (a renunciate) for then I will be granted life." "What?" asked his puzzled mother. Sankara explained, "Mother, you know, don't you, that if I enter a new ashrama, (stage of life) it is equal to being born again? So if you give me permission, at least now, to be a sanyasi, probably the Lord will then give me a new lease of life ... mother please do not refuse me now Aryamba looked anxiously from the crocodile's fierce jaws to her son's pleading face. It was as if Lord Shiva was testing her mettle once more. And once more, she rose to the occasion. She made up her mind. If her permission meant that Sankara would be alive, then so be it. Better a sanyasi than a dead child! Urgently she called out, "It's there, son, my permission is there." At that precise moment, the crocodile gently released its hold and Sankara withdrew his foot and walked across the waters to the waiting arms of his mother. On his face was a smile of ineffable joy. Sankara had won the day. But his mother hardly understood any of that. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she pulled Sankara towards their home. "Come, lad, come home, let us perform a thanksgiving to the Lord together!" Quietly, yet firmly, Sankara removed her restraining arms. "Home, mother?" he enquired. "From this moment, the earth is my home, and the sky my roof. My only caretaker is the Lord, mother ... I am not yours any more ... " Sankara turned to go. From behind him, he heard the broken sob of a woman, now, truly alone. Immediately, Sankara returned. He held his mother close and softly said, "Mother I promise, whenever you need me, just take my name and I will be there. No matter what, I will be there." It was the one concession Sankara made to a mother who had possessed

everything and yet given everything away. Now, as he walked into the distance, and she stood still on the sands of the riverbank, straining to catch a last glimpse of him, there was little evidence of the momentous events that were about to be born from time's waiting womb ...

The Guru's Guidance With a determined step, little Sankara set forth into the world. He had but one thought in his mind. He had to find his guru (master). And although he was yet to know who he was, he seemed to know where to look for him, all right. On and on, he proceeded, always in the northward direction, crossing hill, valley and plain till he reached the banks of the river Narmada. Close by were a cluster of caves and towards these Sankara walked confidently. At the mouth of one, he stopped. Then, in musical verse after verse, he sang paeans in praise of the resident who sat, unknown to the world, in the darkness within. When the occupant still did not stir, Sankara walked in worship around the cave and pleaded,

Neither mother, father, relative nor family, Can help one attain enlightenment fully, But, my teacher's foot placed on my head, firmly Will be my refuge now and for all eternity.

It had its effect. The being finally awoke from his long, self-imposed meditation. After all, he had been sitting in wait for his pupil; just as his little pupil had been walking all the way just to meet him. Yet, the master tried to test him once again. Still, from within the cave, he asked Sankara, "Son, how can I accept you as my student? I don't have any knowledge of who you are ... " No sooner were the words out, than Sankara joyously replied,

Neither mind, intellect, heart, nor ego can capture me, Not ears, tongue, nose, nor even eyes express my identity. Neither sky, earth, fire nor wind can encompass me, For I am Shiva, Shiva, filled with bliss and energy.

What could the master do? He rushed to the entrance of the cave, arms raised in blessing over the prostrate form of his little student. Govinda Bhagavadpada, the reclusive occupant of the cave, an unparalleled scholar, a self-realized soul, a living saint, had finally found his match. Truly, Sankara was like the parched earth. He soaked in, avidly, all that the master explained to him. His razor-like intellect sharpened itself against the learning that was imparted. His mind assimilated and stored all that was offered and his being radiated the glow that was the result of wisdom.

All this culminated in his unparalleled work on Vedanta, Vivekachudamani, or The Crest Jewel of Discrimination, a collection of 581 stanzas on the essence of the Vedic system of thought. At one point in this exposition, Sankara uses a brilliant analogy to explain the position of man in the world. He says:

Within the potter's wheel's rotation, The pivot stands still, amidst constant motion, So, too a man of perfection Is poised, although engaged in action.

And in one of the concluding stanzas, he speaks of man's true nature, in glorious verse:

Neither are you born nor will you die, Neither in bondage nor struggling to break your ties, Neither a seeker nor one, who is striving for liberation, This is the Ultimate truth, about your condition.

In one sweep, Sankara lifted man from a struggling, ineffectual, incapable creature, tossed by fortune, buffeted by chance, to creation's most magnificent expression. Tat tvam Asi - "That you are," he said and if you were to ask, "what that was" his answer would come with unequivocal finality, "Brahman, or God Himself!" This is then what Sankara had absorbed - the philosophy, the metaphysics, and the vision of his great master. This he combined with his own insights and unique interpretation until it ultimately blossomed into what we know as Advaita (the philosophy of oneness), the finest fruition of Hindu thought.

The Master's Miracles Once his period of learning was over, Sankara stood before his guru, seeking his blessings. And the master, well aware that a great task awaited the young lad made haste to let him go. With one condition, "Depart, my child and make sure the world becomes aware of the inclusive wisdom of Hindu philosophy," he fondly said, "but remember, your work will be incomplete until you leave, for posterity, your authoritative comments on our holy scriptures." Sankara nodded an illumined assent. With a light step, staff in hand, he turned northward once more, to the sacred seat of Hinduism - Benares. Finally, he arrived at the holiest of holy spots, the banks of the river Ganges. It is said that no sooner did Sankara sit down in meditation on this hallowed ground, than a host of students emerged, seemingly from nowhere. However, we must remember that this was a time when religion had become mired in rituals, and philosophy entangled in abstractions. Many a seeker who had embarked on a study of the

scriptures had ended up confused and bewildered. In this suffocating atmosphere, Sankara emerged like a breath of fresh air. His lucid language, his concise concepts, his translucent thoughts, mesmerized all who came to listen. And, as they listened, they were transformed. One of them was a young lad by the name Sanandana. He hung on to each word that Sankara uttered, clung to his ideas, obeyed his every wish and was generally his master's very shadow. On one occasion, Sankara, seated on one bank of the river Ganges, had already begun his discourse. Sanandana, stranded on the other bank, found it impossible to cross the rising waters. Sankara watched his disciple's plight. Then, he stood up and gestured to his student to come. That was all that Sanandana needed. Although he had no knowledge of swimming, with complete confidence in his master's command, he set foot on the rising waters. To the amazement of all who were watching, Sanandana did not drown. Equally amazing, under every foot, to support him in the waters, sprang a lotus, all the way to the other bank. The only one not taken aback, apart from Sankara himself, was Sanandana. All he said was "If my master's words can help me cross the ocean of samsara (cycle of birth and death), then what challenge is this little river to him?" But this was not merely evidence of Sankara's powers. It was a telling tribute to Sanandana's faith. No wonder, since that day, he was known to one and all as Padmapada, (the lotus-footed one). But he was not the only one to receive Sankara's grace. One day, it is said, Sankara was on his way to the river Ganges for his bath. His practice was to stop at a banyan tree on the way, to offer it worship. After all, almost all trees are considered sacred by Hindu scriptures! That day, as he paused at the tree, a most horrifying sight greeted him. From one of the higher branches a noose hung down. And below, trying to tighten it around his neck was a man, who, in appearance, was as hideous as a human could be! Leprosy had eaten away at his face and hands. Sores covered his body and disfigured it gruesomely. No wonder, the youth believed that even death would be a welcome relief. Sankara took in the scene at a glance. And then, he spoke, "Stop, my lad! This is no answer to your plight!" The youth turned his one good eye towards the sanyasi. And he was dumbstruck! For, from where the voice came, he did not see Sankara, the man. Instead he saw, Shiva with his trident, his matted locks, his resplendent form, Shiva who was calling out to him! He ran towards Sankara, only to be held in a close embrace. Great, gulping sobs wracked his body. Tears coursed down his cheeks.

Spasms shook him. And then, he felt gentle fingers touch his face, his eyes, his shoulder, his hands. As he looked down at himself with awe and wonder, he realized that he was healed. "Go my lad! You are now Udanka, the one without a blemish!" said Sankara. But Udanka refused to leave. "You have removed the blemishes of my body. But what of the blemishes of my soul?" he asked. With that Udanka was initiated as one more of Sankara's growing band of disciples. Sankara's fame spread. The respect showered on him by the devout and the diligent grew by the day. Soon enough, no matter where Sankara went, keeping pace with him was a band of faithful followers. One day, immersed in a discussion with his students, Sankara was suddenly stopped in his tracks by the appearance of a man belonging to the lowest of low castes - the Chandalas. Following the bedraggled man was a pack of four ferocious dogs. So annoyed were Sankara's disciples by this motley gang, that they raised their voices and ordered, "The master comes. Get out of the way!" Immediately the Chandala replied in words that have become immortal, "From which do you want what to go where? Do you want this body built out of matter to go away from another similarly built out of matter? Or do you want one Living Consciousness to go away from another Living Consciousness? O Learned Brahmins! What do you want to differentiate, this body of matter or the Living Chaitanya (awareness)?" Sankara was completely dumbstruck. Here was he, the philosopher, who ceaselessly spoke about the permanent nature of the Self, and yet could not teach his disciples to see beyond the bodily appearance of a Chandala! And here was one who seemed merely an illiterate vagabond, yet had truly understood the changeless, eternal Self, universally present, everywhere! Sankara's comprehension burst into a verse which said,

It does not matter who he is, If a man understands the true nature of Consciousness, Sankara will learn at his feet, Whether he is a Brahmin or a Chandala on the street.

It was an audacious remark, breath-taking in its boldness. With one stroke, Sankara had established the supremacy of knowledge over birth, the superiority of education over the accident of caste. It would be a watershed in the history of Hindu thought, especially in times like those, strangled as society was by the throttling hold of Brahminism. But as Sankara uttered these words of complete acceptance, bowing before the Chandala, the unkempt man suddenly vanished. In his place, dazzling in His splendour, stood the Lord Vishweswara Himself.

He had been forced to don this most unseemly of appearances, just to awaken Sankara to the truth. And so Sankara, humbled and enlightened, continued his discourses as also his writings on the sacred scriptures. When he finally put the finishing strokes to his commentary on The Brahma Sutra, Sankara was just turning sixteen. It had been eight years since he had first left home, but it had been eight fulfilling, gratifying years. One day, as he held discourse, there appeared a Brahmin, in his vicinity. He enquired, "I have been in search of someone who could explain the intricacies of The Brahma Sutra to me. I was told that, on the banks of the Ganges sits one, Sankara, who can surely clear my doubts. Who is this enlightened one?" Sankara smiled in reply. "Surely, son, you cannot be this person?" exclaimed the old Brahmin. "How can someone so young in age be so wise in thought?" "That needs to be proved, don't you think?" said Sankara, "Let us sit down to a discussion ... " And so the young, earnest lad and the wizened old man sat down. Hours melted into days, as the sun set and rose, but neither so much as stirred, so engrossed were they in the dialectics of religious thought. Until, as Padmapada watched mesmerized, the scales suddenly fell from his eyes. He exclaimed aloud,

Sankara, my teacher, is Shiva's incarnation, But before him sits Vyasa Himself in discussion, Between forces so evenly established, Who is the winner, who the vanquished?

It was then, that Sankara paused for the first time, to take a closer look at the Brahmin. Then, overwhelmed, he fell at his feet, crying, "Lord, how you shower your grace upon me! Truly, it is Guru Veda Vyasa himself, who has come to teach me!" He then continued, "Lord, surely there is a reason for your arrival. Tell me what the purpose of your visit is." Vyasa, now assuming his original form, spoke, "Sankara, you are right. I have come with a purpose - to make you aware of the grand mission for which you have been created. Did you know, you were to live for merely eight years? But you opted to be a sanyasi and that automatically gave you another eight years. You have now reached the culmination of that time. With your commentary on The Brahma Sutra, you have accomplished a milestone in your life ... " Sankara braced himself. "Does that mean, great sire, that my mortal life now draws to a close?" Vyasa promptly smiled and lovingly stroked Sankara's head. "Listen, son. There are still some things left to be done. First you need to win back the straying flock who have become disenchanted with the Hindu way of life. And then, you need

to carry the message of the scriptures to all corners of India. Only then will the depth and the profound reach of Hinduism become clear to the misguided masses. I grant you another sixteen years for this service. May the Almighty bless your endeavours." Sankara poised as always, assented quietly. But he had a request to make. "Greatest of gurus! Before I set out, I need the blessings of my guru Govindacharya who now resides at Badarikasram, in the Himalayas. Permit me to present my work to him, before I set out to spread the knowledge of the scriptures." Veda Vyasa merely raised his hand in blessing. He saw that a while ago, this young lad was smilingly prepared to die. Now, he was smilingly prepared to live. For the vagaries of fortune - happiness, sorrow, hope, disappointment, life, death - none of these could even touch a soul as noble as Sankara's.

The Devotee's Delight And so, Sankara proceeded to Badarikashram. Further north of the Ganges, higher and still higher, until he reached the ice-coated hills of the Himalayan ranges. And there, he found his guru Govindacharya in dhyana, (meditation) completely immersed in inner contemplation. No sooner did Sankara touch his feet than the guru opened his eyes. And then, as he raised his hand in blessing, Sankara noticed his chapped fingers and toes. The intense, biting cold had taken its toll on the aging saint. Always sensitive to the least suffering of every creature, he felt a pang at his beloved master's state. Sankara was a man of action, not one given to regret or wishful thinking. So, he at once set out, on a brisk purposeful walk around the cruelly cold mountain tops. Sankara's students wondered what had overtaken their master. They however, followed him silently as he walked on. Suddenly he stopped. Then, with the staff that he always carried, he began to dig furiously into the earth. The ice parted and in a while, Sankara paused in his frenetic activity. He dipped both his hands into the cavity he had created. And beckoning to his students said, "Just touch this water, won't you?" And when they did, they were in for a pleasant surprise. The water was warm, as from a geyser. Sankara had found what he had been looking for - a hot water spring for his master to bathe in. It was the least he could do for one who had, without hesitation or restraint given him all the knowledge that would lead him to enlightenment. Then, bringing his master to the spring, Sankara lauded him in the most evocative manner:

For the perfect ones, the world is heaven all objects, wish-fulfilling trees, All waters they bathe in are the Ganga,

all acts performed righteously, All words they utter are the truth, all places their feet touch, the holy Varanasi, Their souls are enlightened, they inspire us with lives of complete equanimity.

Sankara soon sought his master's blessings for the commentaries he had already written and on receiving it, proceeded towards the holiest spot for the Hindu mind - Kailash, the mountain abode of Lord Shiva. As Sankara arrived at the foot of this awesome peak and looked up heavenward, to where Lord Shiva was supposed to sit in meditation, he was lifted up in a sea of bliss. As his soul danced in joy, he had a divine vision. He saw Lord Shiva in conversation with his guru Govindacharya and his guru's guru, Shri Gaudapadacharya. And yet, not a sound emerged. Sankara commented on this over whelming quiet:

The young teacher and his older students, in silence abide, In silence are questions asked, in silence are they satisfied.

But such was the divine vision, that Sankara made bold to ask the Lord for spiritual initiation. And it is said, that the Lord actually consented. In this state of ecstatic completion, Sankara walked around the mountain, with the very Lord for company. And then, as suddenly as he had appeared, Lord Shiva disappeared from view. It was as if, Sankara was being given a taste of maya, the Lord's play of illusion. And Sankara exclaimed:

The world is but a scene in a mirror, like objects in a dream sequence, They seem to exist outside our self, but this is perception's ignorance, In reality, all things spring from the Self, all things are the Self only, This Self is Shiva, my guru, the unparalleled Dakshinamurty!

Dakshinamurty was Sankara's name for the Lord who looked southward from Mount Kailash. But dakshina also meant the most beautiful one. And for the devotee, this was the most apt way to describe the Lord whom he also called karpuragaura (one as radiant and resplendent as camphor). In a state of divine delight, Sankara walked down from Kailash towards Badrinath. This spot, cradled between the twin mountains, Nar and Narayan, was sacred soil indeed. After all, wasn't it made holy by the presence of the greatest of all teachers, Guru Veda Vyasa and Sukacharya?

But, Sankara's mind was suddenly disturbed. Stopping on the banks of the Alaknanda, the river which flowed through Badrinath, he exclaimed, "Isn't it strange that this holiest of holy places has no temple in it?" That night, in a dream, he heard a voice, "My son, go to the pond called Narad Kund, and search for me. Then build me a home near the hot spring that you have just found." Sankara woke up with a start. He was convinced that the voice he had heard was that of Lord Narayana himself. The next morning, he made straight for Narad Kund. And as he dived underwater, he immediately came upon what he was looking for - the idol of Lord Narayana. With supreme love and the highest of devotion, Sankara built the Lord, a temple. At the installation of the statue, Sankara prayed to Lord Badri Narayana:

Lord Vishnu, cast away my flaws, help me control my mind's pace Let me rein in desires, that, like deer, leap from place to place. Let compassion grow in me and spread itself afar Save me from being engulfed in the ocean of samsara.

The building of the temple was the beginning of a revival of sanatana dharma (the eternal religion) - the first in a long march of successful achievements. Yet, Sankara was strangely disquieted. It seemed to him that all was not well. And through the day, the unease only grew. Later, he called his disciples to him, "I have a long journey ahead of me. I hear my mother call. I promised to be by her in her hour of need. I must be gone." With that, he made ready for the long and arduous journey back home, from the hills of the Himalayas in the extreme north of India to the plains of Kerala, at its southern tip.

The Mendicant's Material Release He reached his mother's bedside to be greeted by a frail reflection of what once was a strong woman. With trembling hands she held her son, with tear-filled eyes she greeted him. "My son, I called to you. I wanted to say good-bye. God bless you, my child." Although a detached hermit now, Sankara still felt a pang of sorrow. Yet he knew he would have to let her go. Her time to leave had come. He immersed himself in prayer. In his mind, he called upon his God - Lord Shiva. He requested Him to assist his mother in her journey onwards. And so powerful was his plea that Shiva's ganas (tribe of followers) were soon by his mother's bedside. But one look at them and she cried aloud, "Look, Sankara, at the creatures who have come for me. They carry tridents and wrap snakes around their neck. My child, I am scared. Send them away."

Sankara responded with a fervent prayer to Lord Krishna, his mother's favourite deity. This time, angels arrived to tenderly carry Aryamba's soul to the next world. Sankara's strongest material bonds dissolved. He called the Brahmins of the locality to perform the ceremonies for the dead. As they entered, they asked, "Who will light the funeral pyre?" Sankara looked surprised. "Why do you ask this question? Isn't my mother's son still alive? It is my duty to feed the flames to her body." The Brahmins were shocked. "What are you telling us? This is completely against the scriptures. A sanyasi (renunciate) has no family - no mother, father, brother or sister. And since he has given up the family, surely he can perform no rituals connected with it, either." Sankara shook his head. He tried to explain, "Don't you see? I had made a promise to my mother that I would perform her last rites ... How can I go back on that promise now? Besides, how can my adoption of sanyasa (renunciation) sever my links with my mother, when my very body comes from her?" The Brahmins however refused to listen. They did not hear what Sankara said. They could not. Their training had not taught them how. Finally, Sankara picked up his mother's body and took it to the yard behind his house. There, in verse after verse of powerful poetry, he invoked the Sun to light his mother's pyre. And as the shocked Brahmins watched, the body spontaneously burst into flames. Then, Sankara made his way to the kitchen to cook the last funeral meal. But who would eat the food? Not the shocked Brahmins for they were now convinced that Sankara was out to destroy dharma (righteousness) by his impure actions. So, once more, Sankara prayed. And then he set out three places for his guests. And as he bent to serve the food, the guests who had been invited, arrived - Lord Brahma, Vishnu and Mahesh. They sat down to the repast that Sankara had prepared, a feast mere mortals had refused. For, they saw what the Brahmins could never see - Sankara's ability to understand the spirit of all scriptures and the compassion that was at the core of his soul. As he completed the last rituals, Sankara resolved to begin the work that had long been delayed - the spread and establishment of sanathana dharma. His desire was to begin his march for the welfare of the world, from Kashi, a spot he still held sacred. Just then, his disciple Padmapada, came to him. "Master, your guru, Govindacharya calls. He believes he is not to be with us for much longer." Sankara rushed to the banks of the Narmada where his master now resided. As he touched the aged feet, his guru opened his eyes. Beckoning to his disciples who had gathered there, he explained,

once more, the principles that governed an ascetic's life. In solemn tones, he said:

To work for the welfare of all, to beg for one's necessities, To keep the body clean and the mind in purity, To chant the Lord's name, to worship him truly These are the six rules a sanyasin follows diligently.

And then, blessing all of them, for one last time, the master merged with the Lord. Sankara's last earthly tie had snapped. Now, all he had to do was move on the path assigned to him by his gurus.

The Doughty Debater And so began the next stage of this great being's life - his foray into a world where his ideas would be opposed, his thoughts challenged, his standpoint, questioned. Now was the time when all that he had learnt of philosophy and understood of metaphysics would be tested and tried by the ablest of scholars, the most intelligent of thinkers. On this path he would encounter not only the Buddhists and the Jains, but also the Hindu Mimansakas, who believed only in Vedic sacrifices to the exclusion of all knowledge, and the Tantrics who practised all manners of occult rituals in pursuit of supernatural powers. But Sankara, trained by the best of teachers, taught by the guru of gurus was now ready for the confrontation. It was neither ego nor the desire for fame that compelled Sankara - only the need to bring salvation to mankind. He had been told to call forth to a debate, Kumarilabhatta, a formidable exponent of the Mimamsaka school of thought. But before he could set out to meet him, Sankara was informed that almost next door, on the eastern bank of the river Ganges, lived a scholar named Prabhakara, who was Kumarilabhatta's pupil. He had made his contempt for Sankara quite public and Sankara's disciples now believed it was time for a meeting. When Sankara bowed before the older scholar in greeting, Prabhakara was nonplussed. He had expected an arrogant, conceited young man. Instead here was a radiant, smiling ascetic, humble and respectful. Prabhakara could do nothing but consent to a debate. And so, he said,

I believe in right action, not in useless words, Thoughts of God cannot lead man forward. Right action results in right rewards So why waste time in knowledge of God?

Sankara nodded in assent. Then, he countered:

How do you know that action is right

until you turn to God? In success or failure His knowledge itself is reward, To have joy that never ends, follow it to its source And that is none other than God, of course!

Then Sankara added:

The practice of rituals is only half a job done Know and understand God, the unparalleled One!

The debate lasted many hours. But Sankara was clear in his logic, profound in his thought, unflinching in his stand. "Know God!" was his first command. His next was, "Know yourself!" And his third was, "Know that there is no difference between the two!" He insisted that God was available to all - to the scholar who approached him with his armoury of concepts, to the worker who toiled to relieve suffering, to the devotee who merely took his name. His fervent eloquence cast a spell on all who heard him and even the simplest of souls felt that they were in the presence of God Himself. Finally, at a loss, Prabhakara conceded Sankara's superiority. It was a signal triumph for Sankara and his philosophy of Advaita. But, just as Sankara was about to take his leave, a woman stepped out from within Prabhakara's house. She fell at his feet and holding on to it, sobbed piteously. Sankara's heart was touched, as it always was by suffering of any kind. Raising the woman up, he asked, "Mother, what ails you?" "Great master," the woman's broken syllables came forth, "I am the great Prabhakara's wife. But despite all material comforts, my life is barren, empty." "Why so?" enquired Sankara. In reply, the woman went in and brought forth a little boy, barely ten years of age. "He is my son," she said, "and not a word has he uttered since he was born." Sankara looked at the bright face of the lad, who now touched his feet. "Cure him," begged Prabhakara's wife, "Great sage! I have heard of Padmapada and Udanka. Shed your blessings on my son as well." Sankara placed his hand, with tender love on the little boy's head. The child looked up. Sankara asked, "Who are you, my son?" In front of the assembled gathering, the little boy, who could not utter a syllable for ten years, responded:

I am neither man, nor a divine being, Nor belong to any caste of man's knowing, Nor am I attached to any ashram What I am is pure Brahman!

And he did not stop at that. In a further eleven stanzas, he went on to describe the Divine State of which he was a part. Jaws dropped, eyes widened and a hush fell on the gathering.

Finally, it was broken by the boy, who said, "O sage! Let me not leave your side. Let me be your disciple! If one touch could enlighten me, I can scarce imagine what manifold blessings your company will give me!" Overwhelmed at the transformation, his parents could only bless him. Sankara initiated him, giving him the name, Hasthamalaka, - one whose knowledge is as apparent as an amla (gooseberry) fruit in one's hand. With this first taste of victory, Sankara decided that it was time to meet Kumarillabhatta, the guru himself. After all, if the guru could be convinced, the other disciples would more easily come around to Sankara's way of thinking. But by the time Sankara reached his side, he was on the verge of death. Even so, he immediately directed Sankara to his able successor Mandana Mishra. And so Sankara repaired to Mishra's abode. There, Sankara was met with both ridicule and hostility. After all, amongst the Mimamsakas, ascetics were considered contemptible at best. Yet, Sankara's calm poise, his dignity and self-assurance were unaffected. For his purpose was clear - to explain the philosophy of Advaita. All else was inconsequential. Finally, Mandana Mishra consented to a debate. "But who will be the judge?" was his query. Sankara looked beyond him, to a shadowy presence in the background. Mishra's eyes followed him. He turned back to Sankara in surprise. "My wife?" he enquired. Sankara nodded. "Don't you see?" he said, "She is the embodiment of Sharada devi, the goddess of Wisdom." A little abashed, Mishra nodded. Bharati, his wife came forward. She gave a keen, penetrating glance in the direction of Sankara. Sankara smiled in response. It was as if an unspoken communication passed from one to the other. For, unknown to all present, Sankara had divined Bharati's secret ... one that had its origins in days of yore. For, long years ago, so the legends spoke, the quick-to-anger sage Durvasa, was in Devaloka (home of the heavenly spirits), recounting some incidents from his life. In so doing, his tongue tripped over some of the Sanskrit verses that he was reciting. The mistake was greeted with a deafening silence. For who would dare criticize the sage? And then, the silence was shattered - by the sound of a loud, scornful laughter. Its origin was the goddess of learning, Devi Saraswati herself. Anger rose like a volcanic eruption and sage Durvasa burst forth, "For not having the patience to correct me with love, I curse you to an existence on earth, till Shiva's incarnation will arrive at your doorstep to liberate you." And so, Goddess Saraswati became Bharati, the wife of the learned pundit Mandana Mishra. And her endless wait for liberation began. Now, her heart beat fast at Sankara's words. A thought arose in her,

"Could this divinely ordained youth, be Lord Shiva Himself?" He certainly seemed so both from his manner of speaking and the radiance that illuminated his face! Yet, she could not pursue this line of thought. After all, she had a job at hand. One, she, more than any one else, was best able to discharge! And so she spoke, "I will place around each one of you a garland of flowers. The one whose garland fades the first will be declared the loser." Both, Mandana Mishra and Sankara agreed and the debate was soon under way. Later, commentators and spectators said that the session lasted, all of twenty-one days, during which time, neither so much as paused for rest. Nor for that matter did the spellbound audience, so enthralling and interesting was the exchange. Mishra's questions were full of common sense and experience, Sankara's answers, replete with inspiration and insight. The discussion raised issues that were crucial to an understanding of God and man's relationship with Him. At first, Mishra questioned the very need for such a power in the karmic scheme of things. We must remember that in times such as those, both Buddhism and Jainism had totally dispensed with God, being atheistic religions, whose emphasis was entirely on man. Influenced no doubt by them, Mandana Mishra is supposed to have said:

Karma (one's fate determined by one's deeds) alone is our guide to action, For each karma creates its own reaction, So why talk of God at all? Doesn't karma take care of it all?

To which Sankara's position was very clear.

Karma explains all experience, But to know the source of man's existence, And the destination for which he is bound, In God alone will the answer be found. After all, in separation from God is karma born, And in merging with Him, it is gone!

Next, Mishra asked another fundamental question - the need for philosophy:

Man is a being of limited intelligence, Therefore, why bother with philosophy's complications? Perform the rituals as prescribed by scriptures. And you will reap fruits here and hereafter.

Sankara's rejoinder was:

Man is a reflection of God Almighty,

An expression of wisdom and purity. To act without knowledge is sheer ignorance, To learn and grow is life's aim and essence.

Mishra would still not give up. He then reasoned:

The Lord is perfect, yet creation full of imperfection, The Lord is Blissful, yet misery is our condition, The Lord controls every action and also its sequence, Yet we alone suffer the consequence.

It was just the opening Sankara wanted. With a defining certainty, he proclaimed:

The Lord is perfect and so is all creation, To see imperfection is merely an illusion. All of the world is God's play no more, Maya - temporary and insecure. We suffer because of our own free will, And bring misery to ourselves until We learn to surrender to God completely, And recover our blissful Self for eternity.

In the course of the debate, some of the remarks Sankara made, like Aham Brahmosmi (I am Brahman) as well as Brahmam satyam, Jagat mithya (God is truth, the world false) have become hallmarks of Hindu thought. No wonder, Mandana Mishra soon ran out of questions as well as answers. In embarrassed confusion, he broke into a sweat. And the flowers around his neck began rapidly wilting. Bharati noticed it. She had no choice but to proclaim Sankara, the winner. Turning to her husband, she said, "It is time to bring out your begging bowl, sir!" For the condition of the contest was that if Sankara won, Mandana would cease to be a householder and forthwith become an ascetic. But if Sankara lost he would give up the garb of an ascetic and adapt himself to a domesticated existence. None need have feared for Sankara. After all, wasn't he born of Shiva's boon? And so, Mandana Mishra fell at Sankara's feet, admitting defeat. With befitting graciousness, Sankara accepted him as his disciple, giving him the name the world would know him by - Sureshvara. However, Bharati the wife, was loath to let Sankara go so soon. She stood before him, hands joined in prayer, yet barring his way. Sankara was puzzled. "Dear mother," he addressed her, "is there something you wish to ask me?" "Indeed!" nodded Bharati. "This debate with my husband you have won outright. But what about one with me?" Knowing full well, that he was in the presence of Wisdom Incarnate, Sankara still smiled. "Reveal to me the subject, mother ... " It was now Bharati's turn to smile. "The relationship between man and woman, within the institution of marriage."

Momentarily, Sankara was taken aback. "How, as an ascetic, am I to be able to debate on this subject, O devi (a title, meaning goddess)?" he asked. Bharati responded, "A perfect gnani (man of knowledge) knows every thing," she said and then added, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "or do I take it you lose the debate before it begins?" Sankara had already had a moment to think. He touched Bharati's feet and asked, "Mother, do I get a month to study this subject? I will come back in that time to give you my opinion." A little startled, Bharati realized that it was but fair to give him the time asked for. Sankara's disciples, Padmapada and Hasthamalaka were completely at sea. Even given a month, how was their master to answer questions about something he had never had an experience of? But Sankara stilled their turbulent thoughts. "Am I not a yogi (one who practices yoga, a spiritual discipline)?" he asked. "I rarely reveal my powers," he smiled, "but I possess them, nonetheless ... " And so Sankara and his disciples travelled to Himachal Pradesh, where they were told the king had just expired. It was the very opportunity Sankara was looking for. To be able to leave one's body and inhabit another's was something that highly evolved yogis were quite capable of. And so, Sankara left his body behind, in the care of his students, and entered that of the king. The dead king was suddenly found to come to life, and there were celebrations all around. Of course that night, when Sankara, in the king's body, went to meet the queen, she was immediately aware that something was amiss. But how could an ordinary mortal even guess what Sankara had been up to? And within a month, Sankara, in the body of the king was filled with all the knowledge he needed to debate with Bharati. When he returned, Sankara, in some of the finest words, expressed his thoughts: (It must be noted that in all that he stated, nowhere did he ever express the idea that the sexual drive was either immoral or impure.)

The urge for sexual union is so powerful an energy That it needs to be used with caution, carefully It's aim is noble - a synthesis of identities A unity that harmonizes all diversity. Controlled and channelized effectively Love expresses itself through this energy.

And then, Sankara adds a note of caution, as relevant today as when he first uttered these words:

When used with abandon, recklessly, This can bring destruction to an entire society.

Sankara's outspokenness, his rational analysis of sexual relationships, was significant. It was clear evidence of a mind that saw God's expression in all activity. No wonder, finding rare wisdom in Sankara's utterances, Bharati broke out into extravagant praise:

Behold! You are Lord of all learning, The master of all living beings, Brahman Himself, the Lord of creation You are Bhagwan Shiva's manifestation!

With this one statement, Bharati Devi secured her liberation. And in a flash she was gone from the sight of everyone. Except Sankara. He saw her, resplendent, radiant, effulgent, glowing in wisdom, Sharada, the goddess of knowledge. He fell at her feet, saying, "Ma (meaning mother), do not desert me, stay with me wherever I be ... " Sharada smiled happily. "Child, don't you know I am the thoughts that fill your mind, I am the sense that fills your being, I am the very essence of all your experience? Yet, since you so request, I will follow you in your endless journeys. But never look behind to see if I am there. For if you do, I will disappear forever from your sight ... " Sankara lifted joyous eyes to those gathered. "Ma Sharada is with us. We have nothing to fear. Let us proceed on our journey of spreading enlightenment ... "

The Marathon Marcher With that, Sankara set out on what was to be the beginning of a ceaseless march that would end only with his stay on earth. To follow his journey is to be overwhelmed with awe at the strength of body and spirit that kept this sage who was barely out of his teens, traversing forests and mountains, crossing rivers and plain, weathering sun and shower entirely on foot, with neither a map nor a compass for guide. But he had undertaken a mission, a mission to mend mankind. And nothing could come in his way! Now with the tinkling bells of Ma Sharada's anklets for company, Sankara set out on a southern pilgrimage. He soon reached Srisailam, in Andhra Pradesh. There, on the hills was a temple to Shiva, which housed a swayambulinga, (a linga that had appeared spontaneously). To that temple Sankara and his disciples repaired to pay homage to the chief deity, Malikaguna. After the traditional pooja, (prayer) Sankara sat below the shade of a tree that grew outside the temple. He was soon immersed in meditation. In that part of India, there roamed a sect of Tantrics (believers in goddess Shakti) called the Kapalikas. This sect carried out all manners of ritual sacrifice to appease Shiva who had once appeared in the form of a Kapali (a wild hunter). That day, one of the Kapalikas, happened

to see Sankara as he sat, resplendent in form and radiant in hue. He awoke Sankara from his meditation and, gruffly said, "Hey you! Just listen to me! I need your permission ... " "For what?" smiled Sankara, amused at the manner of approach. The Kapalika pulled out a gleaming sword from behind him and brandished it under Sankara's nose. "To cut off your head, that's what," he nonchalantly stated. Then, by way of explanation, he added, "It's a sacrifice, you see, for Lord Shiva." Then with another flick of the blade, he added, "Count yourself lucky that I chose you, and say yes quickly. I have a lot of preparations to do, once I finish you off." Sankara, as was his wont, displayed no sign of discomfiture whatsoever. But, a smile did crease his lips, as he answered, "Listen, my man, nearby are my devotees. They may pose a problem, if you try anything with your knife," he said, looking at the glittering object in the grizzled man's hand. "Don't talk at cross purposes," scolded the Kapalika. "Tell me only one thing. Do I have your permission? That's all I want to know." Sankara nodded and then shut his eyes once more as if the topic merited no further attention. Close by, Padmapada who was also in prayer, intuitively realized that his guru was in danger. Without moving a muscle, he steadfastly intoned a prayer to Lord Narasimha, the keeper of creation's well being. Meanwhile with a loud and alarming war cry, the Kapalika brought his gleaming sword down on Sankara's exposed neck. At that very instant, with a clap of thunder, so deafening that it froze blood, Lord Vishnu in his avatara (manifestation) as Narasimha emerged and crushed the Kapalika as if he were a mere toy. Sankara's eyes as they fluttered open, widened in wonder. He realized that not only had he been granted a darshan (a vision) of the Lord, but He had also personally come to protect him, just as He had once come to protect the child, Prahalada. He instantly burst forth in praise of the deity, spontaneously composing the Narasimha Stotra. This incredible incident sent ripples of amazement and awe in the community, leading gradually to the eventual disintegration of many of the ritualistic sects that had sprung up around Hinduism. Yet, Sankara's task was immense. As he left Andhra behind and entered Hariharapura, in the Mysore district of Karnataka, he came face to face with another sect - the Vaishnavites - who were staunch believers of Lord Vishnu. Their temples housed only the varied manifestations of Lord Vishnu, to the exclusion of Lord Shiva. At one such temple, Sankara was stopped at the entrance. After all, he had the rudraksha beads around his neck and the sacred ash on his forehead, both obvious signs of a Shaivite. The priest refused him entry, saying, "We allow only Vishnu bhaktas

(devotees) to enter. After all this temple is only for Vaishnavites." Sankara replied, "But are you not aware, that Vishnu and Shiva are only two aspects of the Parabrahman (the supreme creator)? He may be worshipped in endless forms, but He is just one, the Indivisible, Almighty Creator." The priest did not seem to hear. He merely said, "You can either be a worshipper of Vishnu or of Shiva. You have to choose only one." "I already have," insisted Sankara. "For He is only one, although out of love we sometimes call him Vishnu, sometimes Shiva." Not knowing quite how to deal with someone like Sankara, the priest demurred. "Will you offer your respects to the idol of Hari inside the temple?" he asked. Sankara smiled, "Of course! Just as I have offered my respects to the idol of Shiva, Ganapati or Devi in whichever temple they have been enshrined." The priest realized that Sankara had his own unique answer to every question that he posed. It struck him that probably this was no ordinary sanyasi, so, finally he led him into the sanctum santorum. But as the doors opened for Sankara to worship, the priests were stunned by what they saw .... for, the idol that they had all along worshipped of the Lord Vishnu as Hari, was nowhere in sight. In its place was an idol that was half Shiva and half Vishnu - the form that is known as Harihara! No more powerful message was needed to drive home Sankara's point of the one God who ruled the earth. With miracles like this following him at every step, Sankara made his way to Gokarna, Mookambika and thence to Sringeri. As he approached the river Tunga, he went up to a rock on its banks and touched it musingly. Immediately Padmapada questioned, "Master, is there something that affects you?" Sankara nodded. With a faraway look in his eyes, he said, "You know something? Ten years ago ... I was then a mere lad of eight ... I passed by this place, as I went in search of my guru. It was a hot summer afternoon, much like this one and I was tired. So I rested under the shade of a tree. Just then, on a rock I saw a couple of frogs seated, sunning themselves. But soon the sun had scorched the rock and it became completely impossible for the frogs to sit there anymore. As they were about to plunge back into the cool waters below, a passing cobra stopped. He spread his hood above them to shelter them from the burning rays. Grateful for the shade, the frogs rested awhile more before finally hopping back." Sankara stopped. He still seemed to be lost, in a different time, altogether. "I was struck with wonder at this impossible occurrence. I reasoned that if natural enemies could live in such harmony, surely this must be sacred soil.

On enquiry, I learnt that nearby was the hermitage of an ancient sage, Rishi Sringa. And then, I thought to myself, that if I ever wanted to build an ashram (hermitage), it would be here, in hallowed ground such as this, where peace prevailed." His disciples enthusiastically agreed with their mentor. As Sankara walked on, he suddenly stopped once more. It was as if he was missing something. Then, he turned back, saying, "Ma, why can I not hear your anklets any more?" With that one glance, Sankara broke his pledge to the Devi, who had quietly followed him so far, through all his wanderings. He now realized that the sands had muffled her step and hence he could no longer hear her. With his act of turning to look at her, she was free to return to her heavenly abode. As she granted him a last glimpse, Sankara declared, "We will build a temple here, and we will dedicate it to the Goddess of knowledge, Ma Sharada. In spirit let us enshrine her here for posterity!" And thence it was that Sankara established the first of his muttas, or centres of worship, at Sringeri called the Sharadamutt. He called his disciple Hasthamalaka to him. "I wish you to be in charge of this centre. Remember, once the temple is consecrated, you will not only preside over the rituals, you will be the friend and the guide to all who come here to worship. As priest, your job is not merely the upkeep of the temple, it is the upkeep of the masses as well." Sankara was laying down the code of conduct for priests, something that, in all these years, had never been done. It was a vision not only for the betterment of Hinduism, but for all of mankind. At Sringeri, Sankara began a series of talks on Advaita. His language was simple, his thoughts clear, his method interesting. He often peppered his talks with illustrations from everyday life. One day, he told the audience, "Imagine you are walking on a dark night, along a path. You are about to pass a tree, when you notice something dangling from a branch. You immediately panic and start screaming, "Snake, snake" and begin to run. If at that time, a light is produced and you observe that what you were so terrified of was only a rope, you will feel quite silly, now, won't you?" Sankara paused, and then added, "Our sojourn here is just like that. You look at your body. You think that it is real, it is yours. You run after what your senses desire. You flee from what appears to be treacherous. You grieve at death, you rejoice at birth. But none of this is true. It is all an illusion, created merely to lure you. What is true is only Brahman, the one reality." People nodded in comprehension. Advaita became accessible once it was related to life. Sankara was also capable of subtle humour. Often his wit enabled people to understand his idea. Once, a pundit questioned him,

"Sankara, I was witness to an unusual incident. Yesterday, I saw you and your disciples at a temple. Suddenly, in the midst of the pooja, the elephant broke free from its keeper and ran in your direction. I saw your disciples and you taking to your heels and fleeing from it. You have always maintained that the world is maya, an illusion. If that is really the case, then, wasn't the elephant an illusion too? Then why did all of you run from it?" Sankara immediately answered with a twinkle in the eye, "My dear man, our running away from the elephant was also only maya!" At all these meetings, a young boy was a constant attendant. His name was Anandagiri and he was so taken in by Sankara's presence that he decided to accompany him everywhere. He was willing to do anything that Sankara asked of him, except leave his side. He attended to all of Sankara's needs, and hovered around, always ready to serve. He never missed a lecture of Sankara, listening to and trying hard to understand his words. His only problem was that he was a trifle dull. As a result, he was often teased terribly by the other students of Sankara. Once, Anandagiri was late for class. Sankara, sensitive to everyone's needs, waited for him to arrive. Immediately Padmapada advised, "Master, begin your lessons. It isn't as if Giri will understand a word, even if he attended class!" At this, all the others burst into laughter. At that precise moment Anandagiri entered, and touching Sankara's feet, paid his respects through a prayer. But this was not the usual salutation. It was poetry, so pure and precise that it had the entire class stunned. Finally, he concluded the verses by saying,

Learning is not a race, All wisdom comes at its own pace, Not through practice or praise, But like a blessing, with the guru's grace.

The metre he had chosen to deliver his words in was the most difficult of all - the Totaka metre. And to have been able to compose the verses in it with such spontaneous fluidity was certainly not humanly possible. Sankara's blessings alone could have prompted Anandagiri's poetic outburst. But it was equally true that Sankara's blessings alone granted learning to each of his other students too. Through Anandagiri's verse, Sankara chastised all of them without so much as saying a word. Soon enough, he initiated Anandagiri into sanyasa, re-christening him aptly, Totakacharya.

The Sage's Supremacy Now, having given over the reigns of the Sharada Mutt at Sringeri to

Hasthamalaka, Sankara prepared to move on. He felt that he needed to seek guidance from the Lord, the Lord who sat at Mount Kailash in meditation, the Lord he had once worshipped as Dakshinamurty. So, to Kailash he went, all the way in the north, impelled by fervour, love, and a compelling need to find direction. As he proceeded towards the Himalayan abode of the Lord, he was suddenly given a vision of the sage Dattatreya. So impressed was the sage with his knowledge and devotion that he asked him, "My dear boy, what can I do for you?" To that Sankara smiled and replied, "Can you give me a darshan of the Lord of Kailash?" "Most certainly!" said the compassionate sage. And as Sankara approached Kailash the mountain sanctuary of Lord Shiva, he was granted another vision of the Lord of yogic peace. It is said that as Sankara fell at the Lord's feet, in complete surrender, the Lord lifted him and placed in his hands five little lingas saying,

Worship these lingas with a pure mind and body, With the right rituals and ceremony, Then victory will be yours in all your activities, You will gain salvation with certainty.

Sankara could hardly conceal his joy. He felt more blessed than any human, anywhere. As his heart overflowed with reverence, Shiva smiled and said, "I have something else for you, my son!" and handed over to Sankara, a scroll. Sankara perused it, and saw that in verse after poetic verse, Lord Shiva Himself had expressed in the most exalted language, his adulation for the goddess, Ma Shakti. Called the Saundaryalahiri, (The Wave of Beauty) it extolled the female principle as the creative energy of the world. Armed with the lingas and the powerful verses, Sankara finally descended from the divine heights of Kailash. He soon reached Srinagar, in the state of Kashmir. In those days, Srinagar was considered the venue for pundits (learned individuals). Scholars gathered here to debate and discuss philosophy; writers and poets drew inspiration from the pristine purity of nature; saints and savants were drawn by the spiritual atmosphere of the place. Here too was the mighty Sarvajna Pitha, or the throne of learning. It was placed in the temple and was surrounded by four doors, each facing one of the four directions. Legend had it that only the wisest of beings could ascend this throne. And while scholars from the east, west and the north had already sat on it, the southern door had remained shut all this while. Now Sankara approached the throne from the southern end of the temple. Immediately he was stopped by a group of learned men, who invited Sankara to a debate. This was just the opportunity he had been

waiting for. The pundits began, "This world is real. We see it with our eyes, feel it with our senses, understand it with our mind. And yet, you insist that it is false. How are we to believe you?" Sankara replied, "I do not say that your senses are deceiving you. I only ask you to look beyond ... " "Beyond what?" asked the pundits. "Beyond the senses," said Sankara. "For then, you will notice that beyond all that we see is that which we do not see. And that alone is real." Noticing the confusion on their faces, he explained, "Let me give you an example. If you look at a woman wearing ornaments, you see the differences in them. The shape of her earrings are certainly quite different from her bangles or her necklace. You surely will not mistake one for the other, now, will you? Yet to a goldsmith it is not the ornaments that are important, it is the gold. He sees the same gold in the vast variety of ornaments. For him, all ornaments are the same ... the same gold ... That is how it is to the realized soul. All are expressions of the One Divine Energy. No matter how different, no matter how unique, all are facets of Him only." The pundits nodded. Sankara had made the idea clear and comprehensible. Another pundit asked, "You say that the aim of life is to forge a bond with the One Supreme Power. But you also say that we are all reflections of that Power. So, isn't it enough to merely link ourselves with other people? After all, we are all expressions of Him, aren't we?” Sankara pointed to the hills beyond. "Do you see the hills yonder?" he asked. "They are here today, but who knows whether they will be there tomorrow? An earthquake could flatten them into plains. So too with all of us. We partake of the temporary nature of all things. Hence all mortal links are bound, by their very nature, to be temporary. But He, the Divine Power, is eternal, immortal, unchanging. When your soul, that is timeless, forges a link with Him who is the master of all time, then alone is there a bond worth forging. All else is an illusion." As Sankara uttered these words, to the utter surprise and amazement of the pundits, the doors of the southern gate opened, of their own accord, as if in acknowledgement of Sankara's wisdom. His disciples recalled Ma Sharada's last statement, before departing for her heavenly abode. She had called Sankara, sarvajnyana (all- knowing). That was now a reality. He could rightfully sit on the throne of knowledge. For Sankara, of course, this was no earth-shattering achievement. He had always accepted all things with equanimity. But his disciples were thrilled beyond measure. It was as if this was their personal victory. They sang paeans in praise of their master, they danced in exuberant joy, they exalted his enormous capabilities, until Sankara

quieted them. He said, "Come, let us go and pay our respects to the river Sindhu." At the riverside, Sankara dipped a stick into the water and then lifted it up. A few drops that had remained clinging to the stick, fell off. Sankara looked searchingly at his students and said, "See these drops? All I know can be compared to them." Then pointing ahead, he said, "And there before me, lies the mighty ocean of knowledge." Turning around, he addressed them, "Now do you understand? Knowledge is limitless, man merely finite ... " It was Sankara's way of maintaining humility under all circumstances and conditions.

The Able Administrator It was time to move on. For a while now, it seemed to Sankara as if his master, Govindapada, was reminding him of his promise to bring the misguided masses back to Hinduism and to give them a sense of direction. That was his mission, now. He first visited Nepal and installed one of the five lingas, the Varalinga at the Pashupatinath temple and invited the king for a discussion. Although born a Hindu, the king had begun to seek succour in Buddhism. Sankara explained, with clarity and conviction, the inclusive nature of Hinduism, even accepting the Buddha as an incarnation of Lord Vishnu. So impressed was the King that he made Hinduism the national religion of Nepal, the only nation that remains Hindu to date. Now, Sankara moved purposefully towards Badrinath. The temple he had constructed earlier was in fine fettle. It was a place filled with the most pleasant memories for Sankara, bringing to his mind the time when he had first begun his mission to revitalize Hinduism. It struck him that this was indeed the best place to establish a centre, similar to the one he had already founded in Sringeri. And so arose the Jyothirmutt, the northern hub of Advaitic thought. With great love, Sankara asked Totakacharya to be in charge of it. Close by at Kedarnath, Sankara installed one more of the sphatika lingas, given to him by Lord Shiva - the muktilinga. As he meditated on the dazzling form of Shiva, in his mind's eye, it seemed that all of reality melted into that image. Coming down the temple steps, he was still in a mood of blissful rapture, when he was met by a soonyavadi (believer in nothingness). He approached Sankara and said, with a mischievous smile, "While I was coming to meet you I saw the son of a barren woman, who had bathed in waters that sprang from the desert. In one hand he held a garland made from flowers that grew in the sky and in the other, a bow made from the horns of a rabbit." Continuing in his bid to tease Sankara he added, "He said that he was a God." Sankara understood

instantly the man's intention to reduce the concept of God to an impossibility. Gently he countered, "When I was coming here, I met a man who sat under a tree, with his eyes shut. He was complaining loud and long: The world is dark, it is gloomy, it is miserable! Everyone looked at him and laughed. I went up to him and said, "Just open your eyes. The sun shines bright, the flowers are in bloom, the rivers sing. Look for yourself! But the man refused to open his lids. Now, what would you call such a man?" "A fool!" said the soonyavadi. "Well," replied Sankara, "you have just described yourself ... " Now, Sankara made his way to Kashi, in Benares, to the lap of the mother Ganges, from where he had started his pilgrimage. Nostalgically he walked the streets, reviewing the long road he had traversed. And then, to his surprise, he saw an old man, labouring hard at learning the rules of Sanskrit grammar. It seemed to Sankara such a waste that an old man should occupy himself in such futile pursuits of empty rules, when he could lead a blissful life of bhakti (devotion) instead, that he burst forth spontaneously in verses that are today known as Bhaja Govindam. "Worship Govinda (another name for Lord Krishna)," cried Sankara. "When death comes, only He will help you across, not the rules of grammar you learn by heart." Sankara's outpourings continued in this vein for twelve verses, and so inspired were his disciples that they added fourteen verses to it. Finally, Sankara concluded this extended poetic expression with four more verses. Totally, these thirty-one stanzas contain the very essence of Sankara's philosophy and advice, the crux of all his thoughts on Advaita. He now travelled to Dwarka on the western coast, on king Sudhanva's personal invitation. The king was so overwhelmed by Sankara's knowledge, that he implored him to make his permanent home there. "Let me serve you as a servant," he pleaded. "Only stay with us so that we can forever live in the shadow of your wisdom." Sankara knew that this was impossible. Firmly yet gently, he answered, "Your majesty, I did not remain even with my mother, though she pleaded with tears in her eyes that I should stay. My life's mission is that of an itinerant monk. Wandering is my destination. No one place can ever be my home, no one people my brothers." Viewing the look of disappointment in the king's eyes, he however promptly added, "I could do one thing. I could create a western centre for Hinduism here and install Sureshvara as its head." King Sudhanva agreed with alacrity and thence came into being Sankara's third establishment, Kalika Mutt, at Dwarka. Soon after, Sankara toured all of Krishna's lands, from Gokul, where Krishna spent

His childhood to Mathura, where He killed Kamsa, from Dwarka where He set up his kingdom, to Prabhasa where His life came to an end. Sankara had already established three muttas (centres) in three corners of India - in the south, in the north and in the west. It was time now to proceed eastward. And so Sankara headed towards Puri, in Orissa. There he was met by a group of devotees, who immediately fell at his feet, pleading, "Master, you alone can help us. The idol of Lord Jagannatha has been immersed in the Chilka Lake, so that conquerors who entered Puri, would not desecrate the image. We request you to restore the idol to the temple." Sankara smiled, remembering his previous attempt at Badrinath. He promptly recovered the idol and amidst great fanfare, helped reinstall it in the temple. So enchanted was Sankara by the spot with the serene sea on one side and the pristine sands on the other, that he felt it could serve as another home for his mission. He therefore gave instructions for the establishment of the Govardhan Mutt, placing his well-loved disciple Padmapada as its head. One evening, as he sat in meditation near the centre, a Tantric sect came to worship. They seemed to be impressed with Sankara's discourse and said, meekly, "Master, we have been converted by your teachings. Please accept our gift as a mark of our utmost respect." With this they offered him a plate covered with a cloth. As Sankara lifted the cloth, there was an audible gasp of shock, for the plate contained meat and fish, food that all Brahmins shunned as impious. But Sankara was completely unmoved. He lifted his hand in blessing over the offerings. Immediately another gasp of surprise followed. For, the meat had become fruits and the fish, flowers! It was time for Sankara to move on. He decided to cross over to Maharashtra, where he visited the five renowned Jyothirlingas (symbols of Lord Shiva). Triumbakeshwar and Panchavati, nestling along the wondrous river Godavari, hallowed by divine lore, brimming with spiritual wealth, so inspired Sankara that he composed his 25 verse poem in praise of Lord Ramachandra, entitle Shree Rama Stotram. He then felt drawn to Pandharpur, the abode of Lord Vittala, a form of Lord Krishna, visualized as standing on a brick. Here too a crowd gathered to have a darshan (vision) of Sankara. But as always there were dissenting voices. A confirmed dvaita (dualist) challenged him to a debate. He started off, "Acharya (Master) you say that God and I are one, that He is housed in my heart. Yet, I know that I, the living, finite being can never be the same as the immortal, infinite God. The two are the opposites of each other." Sankara smiled and said, "Meet me tomorrow in the morning."

The next day, Sankara took the dualist with him to his barber. As soon as he saw the barber, Sankara fell at his feet, saying, "You are Paramatma (the Great soul), you are God." The barber, shocked out of his wits, folded his hands in humility and pleaded, "Acharya, (master) do not do this to me. I am a mere servant, quite unfit for this praise. Please do not embarrass me in this manner." Sankara turned to the dualist. "Sir, the barber considers himself so limited that he cannot be God. So too do you. You a scholar, and he, an illiterate barber, certainly share one thing - your level of awareness!" The dualist appeared nonplussed. He had been outwitted. But he was not convinced. So he continued, "Acharya, let us grant your premise. The fact, however, is that if I considered all people, God, I never would be able to scold my child, command my servant, or even, for that matter, get myself a haircut!" Sankara laughed aloud. "You are so right. On the material level, we have to accept duality. But that is how maya (illusion) functions. It makes you believe that all things are different from you, you are different from God, but when you awaken to your spiritual inheritance, then you know that the reality is that you are Brahman (the All-knowing Energy)." "But how can I experience that Brahman within?" continued the scholar. Sankara answered with a question, "Do you long for peace, strive for perfection, desire stillness?" The scholar nodded. "Well," said Sankara, "that is Brahman calling you home!" The dualist had nothing more to say. For Sankara spoke with conviction, with the certainty of one who had seen and experienced the truth. It was time now to move southward. While Sankara had visited Andhra Pradesh and Karnataka, he had yet to tour Tamil Nadu, renowned for its temple towns and its dedicated devotees. Sankara was excited. He expected a high level of intellectual curiosity as well as spiritual fervour. Instead, all he found were feuding factions and warring sects. Each cult was divided and sub-divided into smaller and smaller camps, until no two followers saw eye to eye on any issue. Sankara immediately divined the reason for the sorry state of affairs. He told his followers, "If fanatics and extremists wage war amongst themselves, no wonder the masses are attracted to more tolerant and inclusive faiths!" He immediately set out to reform and re-organize his people. He insisted that all forms of religion had to have dharma (righteousness) at its core, dharma which was defined by Manu as ahimsa, (non-violence) satyam, (truth) asteyam, (contentment) soucham, (purity of body, mind and soul) and indriya nigraha (control of the senses). To these Sankara added his own belief, Bhutadayam Vistaraya - compassion for all. "Follow these principles," said Sankara, "and you

are well on your way to your spiritual destination." He then went on to explain, "Every method and manner of worship whether it is japam, (chanting) or bhajan (devotional singing), whether it is sravanam (listening to the Lord's name) or vandanam (surrendering to the Lord), is acceptable and appreciated. Although Brahman is one, he revels in multitudinous forms, in infinite appearances." Yet, he also laid down a codified method of worship, the panchayatan pooja, (the five-fold method of worship) highlighting five main sects of Hindu thought - the Vaishnavites (the believers in Vishnu), the Shaivites (the followers of Shiva), the Ganapatiyas (the worshippers of Ganapati), the Saktas (the devotees of Goddess Shakti), and the Saura Pujakas (the disciples of the Sun God). All this codification and organization required considerable effort, for Hinduism had neither one leader nor one religious text. Born of a confluence of thoughts and cultures, it was truly a river, picking up a concept here, a thought there, an idea elsewhere, growing all the while into a mighty sea of spirituality. Yet, without control, it had become a gigantic tidal wave drowning all who lived by its shores. It was Sankara who finally managed to put it on course again. Despite all the problems that confronted him, Sankara's enthusiasm remained undiminished, his march, unstoppable. On and on he travelled, through Tamil Nadu, from Chidambaram, to Madurai, and thence to Rameshwaram, touching the very tip of India. Everywhere he installed idols, created compositions, renovated temples and rallied the people back into the Hindu fold. He was like a wind that swept across the length and breadth of India, changing the very spiritual climate of the nation.

The Mystic's Moksha By now, Sankara had turned thirty-two. He felt it was time to pause awhile and recapitulate his life's work. For that he needed a place that was fit for such contemplation. And thus it was that he turned his step towards Kanchi. Here, in the heart of the Tamil country, where some of the holiest shrines were constructed, where tradition was the identity of its people and culture, their life-breath, here Sankara came to a halt. He looked back at his event-filled and enlightening life. Two decades ago, when he had begun his march, the Hindu world was riven with orthodoxy, confusion and dissensions. Into this scene he had, sometimes through persuasion, at other times through precept, on occasions through miracles, oftentimes through discourse, gradually brought about change, making Hinduism harmonious and whole. He smiled. He had had a full life. All of a sudden, there was a blinding illumination, over and around

him. He opened his eyes. And before him, radiant and serene as the full moon stood his master's master, Guru Gaudapada himself! In soft, melodious tones, he addressed Sankara, "My son! You have more than fulfilled the promise you made to your guru. You have done us all proud! Your life's work now stands completed." It was a benediction and a permission, a blessing for a life well lived and a consent to move on, just what Sankara was waiting for. Without a demur or misgiving, in complete surrender and submission to his master's will, gathering all his energy within, Sankara dissolved himself into the five elements, disappearing entirely from mortal view. Sankara had merged into his original state of complete and perfect bliss. His divine play on this earth, with mere mortals, was now over.

Adi Sankara's Contribution to Hinduism

S ANKARA STRODE THE earth for a mere 32 years but what an event- filled, thought-enhancing, epoch-making 32 years they were! And in that short span, while he walked ceaselessly across the length and breadth of the Indian sub-continent, touching lives and practices everywhere, he left an indelible imprint on the face of Hinduism, transforming it from a decadent, dying, confused way of life to a vital, throbbing expression of a vibrant civilization. Originating as a set of beliefs held by people who settled along the banks of the river Indus, Hinduism initially reflected the inclusive, tolerant attitude of its followers. It combined elements of the pagan, the pantheistic, the mythical and the metaphysical, weaving them loosely together in a comfortable blend. As such, it refused to be bound either by a single text or by a single individual who would serve as its head. Yet within its very nature lay the seeds of its undoing. For with the passage of time, sects and factions sprang to the fore, with each one claiming to be the sole repository of the true way. Varanas or divisions on the basis of occupation soon degenerated into attitudes of superiority and exclusivity. Along with these arose rituals that were both degenerate and inhuman, driving deep divisions into an already splintered society. The Hindu social fabric was splitting at the seams. Taking advantage of these dissensions and disunity were new religious thoughts that promised a synthesis as well as a semblance of order. No wonder Jainism and Buddhism attracted to their fold the disillusioned masses, who converted to the new path with alacrity. But this did little to enhance matters. In a short while, these new religions too fell prey to the old habits of its followers. They too were pulled apart by differences. In the meanwhile, the practitioners of the Hindu way were a confused, disenchanted lot. Finding the scriptural texts contradictory, the priests rigid, and the rituals convoluted, they had turned to superstitions and the occult as a means to the Lord. Into this atmosphere, fraught with tensions and turmoil, Sankara was born. It did not take long for this divinely ordained lad to realize where the problem lay and what the solutions should be. Sankara's life bears testimony to the two parallel processes that he harmonized with great élan. On the one hand, he spent long arduous years studying the scriptures, both under the tutelage of his master,

Govindapada, as well as on his own. This study only convinced him that all religious thought would have to stem from a clear understanding of the scriptures. Hence, in Sankara's world, knowledge held primacy of place, a knowledge that appealed to reason, that was as logical as it was cogent. Yet, at the other end of the spectrum was a complete identification with God, a total submergence of the self in the Supreme, in exclusive devotion and surrender, with neither questions asked nor answers sought. Sankara straddled both worlds with ease. Not only was he in command of the scriptures, he was also testimony to a direct, personal experience of God. And so, gnana that was knowledge and bhakti, that was devotion, shared harmonious space in Sankara's soul. And gladly he found validity for both in the scriptures. For, the Upanishads spoke of three pramanas or instruments of knowledge: (i) shruti or the revelations found in the sacred texts, from where all knowledge originated; (ii) yukti or analysis through the use of intelligence so that the philosophy of the scriptures appealed to the mind; (iii) svanubhuti or a direct experience of the Supreme, which was generally the result of an abiding faith. Having established the primacy of both learning and devotion, Sankara delved deep into the holy texts to find a philosophy that would be both lucid and logical, emotionally cohesive and spiritually satisfying. Finally, as he unravelled the mystery of existence layer by layer, he came to the pearl that was buried deep within - the non-dual philosophy of advaita. Of all Sankara's contribution to Hindu thought, his establishment of advaita was by far his most seminal gift. To understand advaita is to comprehend a philosophy that is at once simple and profound, practical and transcendental. The word itself means 'not two.' But what is singular in nature? Man? Or God? Or both? To answer that Sankara unveiled his insights into man, his relationship with his own inner self, with the world outside and finally with God. Our true nature, advaita posits, is Brahman. Brahman is the one, changeless, eternal Reality, forever still, forever there. That is why when the statement Tat Tvam Asi, appears in The Upanishads, it means, You are that. The that the Upanishads refer to, is the Brahman, leading to the unequivocally declaration, Aham Brahmosmi, I am Brahman. What advaita garners from these statements is that the individual and Brahman are not two entities. They are one. But who is Brahman? Sankara makes clear His attributes. He is Consciousness, ceaseless, causeless Consciousness, without beginning or end, a consciousness that can neither be described in words, nor

understood through concepts, a consciousness that has neither a cause nor a result, which neither creates nor destroys. For, Consciousness merely is. It has no function, only nature. A nature so sublime, so astounding, that it has been described in one awe-inspiring word - Satchitanand: sat which is absolute truth, chit which is absolute awareness and ananda which is absolute bliss. But man, finite, fallible and fault-filled, seems anything but Brahman. Indeed, he appears to be the very opposite - dull, disillusioned, dispirited and depressed. Sankara explains this dichotomy, through a brilliant concept, the very cornerstone of advaitic thought - the concept of maya. At one level maya creates for man a façade, an illusion. But at another level it exhibits itself as avidya or ignorance, an ignorance that propels man to identify with his physical self, his material world, his apparent reality. It is an ignorance that holds man in its all-embracing tentacles of lust, greed, anger and jealousy. It is an ignorance that makes man a victim of sorrow, a slave to passions, a prey to his ego. It is an ignorance that blinds him to his higher calling, his divine nature. Sadly, it is an ignorance that often parades as intelligence, nay, sometimes even wisdom, leading man inexorably to his doom. Yet advaita helps man overcome avidya, to go beyond the world that appears true, until he can finally see who his real self is. To do that, man is given three tools - gnana, karma and bhakti. Gnana marga or the path of knowledge is not of things in the material world, but of the inner truths hidden in the scriptures, in philosophy, often in life itself. It is not knowledge acquired to gain a degree, or to rise up the corporate ladder. It is not knowledge of the outside world, but of the inner self, which is the abode of Brahman. But once knowledge is arrived at, it needs expression through the performance of action. For this world is one's karma bhoomi, the arena of action and karma marga or the path of action has to be followed, not with selfish interests, not again for petty gains, never for fame, but by making oneself and all one's actions an instrument of the Divine. Then one does not work because it will fetch money or for glory, one does not toil merely for one's living or solely for prestige; one works as a dedication and a thanksgiving to the Supreme, for work then becomes a devotional service to Him alone. Then neither the results of one's work nor the manner in which it is viewed makes any difference. For work transforms itself into worship, no less. When this happens one is constantly in a state of elevated joy, stillness and peace. It is the state of bhakti, or piety, the bhakti marga or the path of devotion. When bhakti permeates all one does, all one thinks and all one is,

then one gently moves into dyana or meditation. Not a meditation that requires one to sit still and focus within, but a meditation that becomes the silent, continuous hum behind all action, beneath all thought, a constant theme of every living moment. In this way, when one's nature has been prepared and one's mind purified, then subtly but surely, the veil of avidya drops and the gift of vision is granted. Then one simply discovers what one has always been - Perfect Consciousness. And, simultaneously, one sees the world for what it really is - a sphere of deception, an arena for delusion, a temporary halting spot, no more. And with that realization, man finally becomes free. Sankara thus explicates man's relationship with himself, relationship which at its lowest level makes man appear to be helpless and hopeless, but which, at the highest level, equates him with God. But what about man's relationship with the world? How can one reconcile the Absolute with the ephemeral, a Reality that is permanent with another that is transient as a shadow? Sankara resolves that difference in the most brilliant manner, by not resolving it at all. In fact he maintains the truth of both worlds. For Reality, he states, is paramarthika satta, the Absolute Reality of Brahman, changeless and eternal. But it is also vyavaharika satta the empirical world, subject to change, slave of time. Both realities exist, both function according to their own laws. And while at the level of the Absolute, God is Brahman, the Formless, Nameless, Blemishless One, the nirguna Brahman (the Brahman without attributes), at the level of man, God becomes Ishvara, with the thousand names, endless qualities, always loving and eternally lovable, the saguna Brahman (the Brahman with myriad attributes). Sankara's world therefore had a place for all of human experience. At one level God is one, at another He is many; at one level Reality is permanent, at another it is ever-changing; at one level man is the Self, the complete Truth, at another, he is the constant victim of vicissitudes. To live in this world would mean to worship one's personal God, by whatever name one gives Him, to perform the rituals prescribed to one with devotion, to carry out one's responsibilities, no matter how mundane, to the best of one's abilities and to be virtuous in all one's dealings. What elevates the wise man is the fact that he does all this with complete sincerity and constant commitment, knowing all the while that all that he is involved in is merely shadows. When man lacks this knowledge and works as if his world is permanent, as if he himself were immortal, he is completely in the grip of avidya. And through avidya or ignorance is born maya or illusion. It is this that brings man

down from the level of the sublime to that of the foolish. Only gnana, karma and bhakti have the ability to reinstate him to his former glory. At the core of Sankara's concept of advaita is Brahman, the luminous, lustrous One. But He is at the core of all dualistic philosophies as well. Only in their view, Brahman is the Creator of the world and every creature in it. They would further add, that while the phenomenal world has been created as an arena for man's deeds, or as the divine play of the Lord, man's role is to act in such a way that he ascends step by step towards the divine, bridging the divide between himself and God until he ultimately reunites with Him, in a state called moksha. Innumerable stories of man have as their essence the journey of the Jeevatma or the individual soul towards the Paramatma or the Causal Soul. Advaita would have none of this. The Paramatma and the Jeevatma are one; the phenomenal world and Brahman too are one. All our life, whenever we see them as two we are in the grip of maya's tantalizing hold. When the duality is merged, and the unity grasped, man attains realization. This is the essence of Sankara's understanding of the Vedas, the scintillating, soul-stirring statement that man does not have to struggle to reach a higher state, nor strive to become God. All he has to do is open his eyes to who he is. And then he will discover that he himself is God, in all his glory. Advaita did many things. It primarily brought the focus of worship back to Brahman, the Supreme principle of creation. It eschewed a dependence on ritual and superstition, by simplifying the process of prayer. It restored the dignity and supremacy of the Self, as the abode of the Divine. It reinstated the Vedas as the primary text of the Hindus. It gave a philosophical basis to Hindu thought. It was a mammoth task that Sankara had undertaken to revitalize the content of Hinduism. But this was merely the beginning. Hinduism's organizational structure too needed strengthening. For, at no time had any teacher paid attention to uniting the Hindus under one external established order. This now, was the task that Sankara undertook. As a radical reformer and an able administrator, he saw that the Hindus were divided into innumerable sects, each with its own method of worship, its titular gods and goddesses as well as its rigid followers. He brought these varied strands into one Vedantic web of thought, giving them an umbrella of protection and yet permitting them the freedom to be different. He did this by codifying deities and their worship into six kinds - (i) the worship of Surya (ii) the worship of Vishnu (iii) the worship of Shiva (iv) the worship of Ganpati (v) the worship of Devi (vi) the

worship of Kumara, or Skanda. This initiative immediately brought the disparate groups of religious practitioners into the Hindu fold, with a certain commonality of beliefs and practices. Sankara was still not satisfied. He realized that the Hindu priests' itinerary consisted of little else than the rituals associated with worship. The followers were largely left to fend for themselves, no matter what their emotional, social or spiritual problems were. On the contrary, he observed that the Buddhist monasteries gave its priests as well as the masses a much-needed sense of cohesion. Immediately, he set out to establish monastic centres in the four corners of India, to continue the traditions he had initiated as well as to offer succour to the community at large. He laid down the ground rules that the priests needed to follow, rules that were fashioned from his own itinerant wanderings and his interaction with believers in Hinduism. Having, to an extent, disciplined the wayward strands of Hindu ideology, Sankara turned his attention to the seekers, the wandering mendicants, who roamed the hills and plains, with neither the safety of numbers nor the protection of an organization. Sankara grouped them into ten different orders of the Vedantic tradition, giving them a monastic family as well as material and spiritual support. All this work, along with his refreshingly original and lucid interpretations of the Vedas and commentaries on the sacred Hindu scriptures, made Sankara the pre-eminent philosopher-saint and missionary of Hinduism. Through his many splendoured activities, he revitalized and revived the religion; infusing it with such zeal and order that it became, once more, the synthesizer of the masses. It was an achievement, stupendous in scope, mammoth in reach, one that stands supremely unmatched in the annals of philosophy. That it was made possible by one man, in a brief lifetime of a mere thirty-two years, is all the more awe-inspiring. All we can do is wonder at this divine soul, who for a while walked this soil as a human.

Preface

1 O WRITE ABOUT Bhaja Govindam is a presumption. In more ways than one. Because, it presupposes that one has the maturity to understand the depth behind the seeming simplicity of the text. It also presumes that one has the reflection and philosophical ability to decipher the power and potency of Sankara's vision. Simultaneously, it implies the acumen to apply the thoughts of this great sage to modern times and make it relevant and purposeful to our life. A rather daunting order! Yet, I had always been fascinated by Bhaja Govindam. One reason was, of course, that I was brought up on the hymn. As a child, I rote learnt it before I understood a word of it. Later, I heard it sung in the inimitable voice of M.S. Subbulakshmi. It was then, that I was stirred, for the first time, by the deep devotion she infused into the lines. Without even knowing it, I was waking up to the magic of Bhaja Govindam. Soon I listened to the great doyen of Hinduism, C. Rajagopalachari, talk about the verses and what they meant to him. And the words began to speak to me. It offered me an understanding of, not merely Hindu thoughts of yore, but strangely enough, the world in which I lived, the people I met and the experiences I had. Bhaja Govindam was not a collection of out-dated Sanskrit stanzas, about abstract concepts and distant concerns. It was, surprisingly enough, a contemporary guide, a current companion, a perceptive insight into the complexities and confusions of life in modern times. Indeed, the more I went back to it, the more I was convinced that Bhaja Govindam had a message that was waiting to be told. Not in philosophical terms, for that had already been done. Not in the manner of a scholar, for then the book would do little but occupy space on library shelves. Not in abstract, abstruse terms, or in dry, desiccated language. But in a way that would touch the lives of ordinary people. People whose concerns and conflicts, interests and aspirations have remained the same since the time of Adi Sankara, yet, who today, are more lost than they ever were before. So I set out on this journey. Armed with little more than reverence. And faith. And an open mind. I then picked up each verse and let it whisper its secret to me. Some of them scolded me, some others cajoled me, some needled me and still others stilled me. As I listened to each one, I could immediately hear stories, which I had gathered over the years, struggling to break loose. From Puranic lore, from Zen and Sufi sources, from sages of renown, from our eternal epics - they tumbled out in a plethora of

little insights. And as they came, they found their home in each verse that was interpreted. With a story as a companion, the message of the verses no longer had to be deciphered. I was sure they would reach out. Even to those who would never have picked up a book on philosophy. But I acquired the audacity to begin such a journey only because of the many pilgrims who had preceded me. First of them, was Swami Anubhavananda, whose classes on Bhaja Govindam were an adventure of delightful discovery. And then, I chanced upon others as well, - C. Rajagopalachari, Swami Chinmayananda, and Swami Parthasarathi. Each of them brought their unique flavour to the content, their original interpretations to the verses. Each one of them was a signpost along the way. So, my exploration began to take shape, my destination to appear on the horizon. But, I was soon brought to a halt. For, what is a journey without its potholes and pitfalls? Mine surfaced when I tried to understand Sankara's worldview. It seemed that his voice was oftentimes too harsh, his words excessively severe, his tone, one of caustic reprimand. It also seemed that, in his view, the world was an arena of deceit and debauchery, people, full of hate and hypocrisy and all man's aspirations, trying and terrible. Was there no place for the good and the pure, the noble and the virtuous? Was I to be derailed by cynicism, thrown off course by scepticism? That is how it appeared. But Sankara required patience, effort, maturity. As I got to the crux of his thoughts, I realized that the medication was only as strong as the disease. For, so caught up is man in the world's material manifestations, the frenzy of desires, the fantasy of fulfillment, that nothing short of a shock will shake him out of his stupor. Worse still, man's folly is compounded by his complete ignorance of it! No wonder, Sankara constantly uses the epithet, 'Fool' when he addresses man! As I finally began to make sense of the verses, it dawned on me that Sankara's severity was a much-needed palliative, to make man realize not merely his current stupidity, but also his ultimate divinity. Far from being nihilistic, Sankara's advaita was a supreme affirmation of man's highest potential. But there was another roadblock along the way. Did Sankara's advice, sage and sagacious as it was, mean that all pleasures were to be avoided? That desires had to be forsaken as the more they were satiated the more they spiralled out of all proportion? Were the senses to be chained and all delights to be shunned? Was Sankara expecting every individual to become an ascetic and avoid all contact with the material world? Obviously not! For, more than any other sage, Sankara was a

practical philosopher. He was aware that for most men who were householders, living in a world of material objectives, with responsibilities to fulfill and expectations to be met, it was but natural to strive for the satisfaction of aspirations. The problem only began when one ceased to be in control of enjoyment and began craving it, when one was no longer master of one's senses but a slave to their command, when one did not merely indulge in sensual delights but became an addict to them. Sankara neither advised denial nor self- abnegation. Like the Buddha, he only advocated restraint, moderation and self-possession. Once I settled these doubts, I could see the ultimately soul- enhancing power of Sankara's verses. But, I still needed to know more about the man. So clothed had his image been in divinity, that I had only heard awed whispers about his being a manifestation of Lord Shiva Himself. As for his life, all we had were inferences from his many journeys across the vast landscape of India. So, my search began to know the real Adi Sankara. I little realized how many alleys and byways this quest would lead me into. For, Adi Sankara's life was a veritable Gordian knot. The events therein were mired in endless controversies, as legend and fact got inextricably entangled. Everything about him, from the date of his birth to the place of his samadhi, was under dispute. For instance, according to certain western Orientalists, Sankara was born in 788 A.D. and attained samadhi in 820 A.D. Other traditional schools of thought date Sankara's year of birth as 509 B.C. Again, according to some, Adi Sankara attained samadhi at Kedarnath, in the north of India and according to some others, he disappeared from mortal view at Kanchi, in south India. Similarly, differing accounts abound of the sequence of events through his many expeditions crisscrossing the hills and plains of India, with each school claiming knowledge of what they call the 'definitive' journey of the great sage. Ultimately, after endless detours, I decided to follow a chronology that made logical sense, constantly keeping in mind, the cumbersome logistics of travelling by foot in those early years. My next hurdle quite literally tripped me up. It came in the form of the miracles that abounded in Sankara's life. Each event in it had acquired, over constant re-telling and re-interpretation, the shape, substance and dimension of legends. No wonder, within each of them, the supernatural had mingled with the factual, the mythical with the real, to such an extent that it was impossible to tell them apart. As I sifted through this rich diversity of material, I concluded that what was important, was not the dry details of the events (which, in any case, were so contradictory), but their essence, the unique

message that permeated them. It is an essence I have, at all times, striven to retain. For oftentimes, while these events may appear magical and mythical, they were constantly true to the verities of life. That is why, to even look at these incidents from the prism of science and reason, is, I believe, to do them a disservice! To rephrase the renowned historian, A.L. Basham's comment on history and myth, if we examine the mythology in Sankara's life, we are bound to find lots of history, yet if we examine the history in his life, we will end up finding lots of mythology. As my journey took these completely unexpected twists, turns and loops, and I sorted through account after account of every aspect of Sankara's life, each providing justification for its stance and conclusions, I understood why history is considered only a matter of interpretation. So much so, the more I tried to unravel Sankara's life, the more I grew learned only in my ignorance, not of its meaning and message, but of the clear facts that surrounded it. But, as I got to know Sankara, I realized how completely unnecessary facts actually were. For while facts could give us a chronology, or a timeline of Sankara's life, what use were they in interpreting his seminal role in history, or his unique service to Hinduism? That is why, while historians and Indologists fight it out over what actually happened in Sankara's life, I realized that the greatest of all miracles was the fact that such a man even lived, breathed, walked the earth and shared his vision with us! For this, as for much else, we must be truly beholden. Now, as I weave the concluding chapters to my book, humbled and awe-inspired, by turns, I know I owe a lot of my present understanding of spiritual thought, to this journey, a journey that could not even have started had Arun Mehta of Vakils, not placed implicit trust in my need to bring Adi Sankara into people's lives today. Through the entire process, his unwavering support alone kept me relentlessly tapping away at my keyboard. I need to thank my sister Malavika, who gleefully picked every fault she could in my writing, and my husband Bhaskar, who reads all I write, (and slashes away at my punctuations), as a price he has to pay to maintain domestic harmony. I come to the end of this journey. Yet, in truth, my real journey has only just begun ...

Chandrika

Sankara's Literary Achievement

A DETACHED RENUNCIATE, a discerning philosopher, a fervent devotee, a curious scholar, a learned teacher, a tireless traveller, a relentless disciplinarian, a gentle human being ... one would think that epithets such as these could hardly belong to one individual. But Bhagavadpada Adi Sankara about whom each one of these descriptions holds good was more, much more than all this. Seeker, sage and saint he certainly was, but he was also an unparalleled literary giant among men, a writer with a fine eye for language and syntax, a keen ear for the music of words and a sensitive soul for the inspiring and uplifting thought. His contribution therefore was as profound as it was prodigious, as deep as it was vast, as substantial as it was solid. It held him up as pre-eminent among the spiritual writers of all times, an icon whose words were trend setting, whose philosophy was path-breaking and whose ideology was unique. While, scholars and pedants, argued over the significance and style of the Vedas and the Upanishads, while intellectuals and academicians went into hair-splitting debate about content and context, Sankara quietly wrote his incisive commentaries, lucidly putting together verses on philosophy and passionately singing lyrical hymns to every known deity. And by the time he shrugged off his mortal coils, he had left behind such a phenomenal amount of work, that centuries later, we are still at the task of attempting to understand them. Traditionally, Sankara's entire body of writing had been classified under three main heads. First came the Bhaashyas, which were commentaries that Sankara wrote on the scriptural texts of India - the Brahma or Vedanta Sutras, the Upanishads and the Bhagavad Gita. Often referred to as the Prasthana Traya, these texts stand as the three starting points of religious thought. Especially because they are so dense in meaning and paradoxical in nature, they have often been misinterpreted by scholars, who were unable to extract the truths embedded within them. Into this arena of confusion, it was Sankara who brought clarity and cohesion through his perceptive commentaries. But Sankara was not satisfied with merely providing explanatory notes. Within him, arose thoughts that sought their own expression. And so came the Prakarana Granthas, or the philosophical treatises. These were Sankara's original works on philosophy, often in lyrical and lucid verse, in which he expounded on his interpretation of Hinduism through the prism of advaita.

But within Sankara the philosopher also resided Sankara, the poet. And so, beyond his entirely intellectual endeavours, Sankara sang lyrics of deep devotion and piety, producing a whole body of hymns to the numberless deities of the Hindu pantheon. These were little prayers, rich in feelings, deep in devotion, high in humility, wherein two things were in equal evidence - the bhakti of the supplicant and the shakti of the deity. As always in matters related to Sankara, there are conflicting opinions. Many of the books attributed to him have been questioned by scholars, who believe that he might not really have been the author. Yet, there is enough of what he has admittedly written to be both amazed and awe-inspired. The three parts viz Commentaries, Philosophical Treaties and Hymns have to be distinguished from the subheadings below them.

Commentaries on the Scriptures Sankara wrote commentaries on many of the most powerful scriptural texts of Hinduism. Some of his best-known commentaries are on: · The Brahma Sutra . The Upanishads, (Aitareya Upanishad, Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, Isa Upanishad, Taittiriya Upanishad, Kena Upanishad, Katha Upanishad, Chandogya Upanishad, Mandukya Upanishad, Munduka Upanishad, Prasna Upanishad, Svetesvatara Upanishad) · The Bhagavad Gita · Vishnu Sahasranama · Gayatri Mantra. It will be entirely impossible to review all that this mammoth intellect expressed, or even attempt to summarize the profusion of his literary outpourings. But, we will certainly take a glimpse at some of the most seminal of his works.

Brahma Sutra Also called the Vedanta Sutras, the Brahma Sutra consists of 555 aphorisms or sutras, in 4 chapters, each chapter being divided into 4 quarters. From the nature of Brahman to the path the individual soul must take to gain oneness with Him, Brahma Sutra covers the entire gamut of spiritual thought. It constitutes the Nyaya prasthana, the logical starting point of Vedantic philosophy, the first of a triad. The others are the Upanishads, the Sruti prasthana, the starting point of all spoken revelation and the Bhagavad Gita, the Smriti prasthana, the starting point of all remembered tradition of religious thought. Brahma Sutras, which have been attributed to Badarayana, (sometimes identified with Veda Vyasa), stitches together (sutra

means a thread) the diverse and often conflicting statements of the Upanishads and The Bhagavad Gita. Yet, so terse and succinct are the statements it makes, that it throws open the doors to multiple interpretations, confounding even the most intelligent of seekers. It was this that prompted Sankara to explain their essence in such a way that the philosophy of advaita emerged clear and transparent from within its lines. In this too, Sankara was a path-finder. His initial commentary set off a series of sub commentaries and interpretations, either supportive of his philosophy or challenging his theories, yet all contributing to building the rich treasure that is India's cultural inheritance. None of this, however, would have been possible without that first great teacher - Adi Sankara.

Upanishads Known also as the Vedanta (the end of the Vedas), the Upanishads are mystical contemplations on the nature of God, His revelations and His relationship to man. The Upanishads have at their core, a eulogy in praise of the One Brahman, a Consciousness with neither beginning nor end, all-pervasive, infinitely inventive, eternally the same, expressed in every sentient creature, yet never identified with form or feature, knitting all creation in one seamless whole, wherein the reflection of all could be found in the One and the One in all. They lent themselves, most lyrically, to Sankara's interpretation, creating for him the best medium for the transmission of his philosophy. Indeed, so seminal have Sankara's commentaries been, that almost all successive philosophers have gone back to the eleven Upanishads that Sankara chose to comment upon. Today, of the 108 Upanishads, these are considered the principal ones.

The Bhagavad Gita The Gita has had more commentaries written on it than, possibly, any other religious text in existence. But today, the 700 verses that we call The Bhagavad Gita, culled from the great epic The Mahabharata, is primarily the result of Sankara's efforts, who picked them, from the epic, to comment upon. The text he has cited has come to be looked upon as the most authentic one and his commentary has proved to be of decisive value ever since. In it, while he makes clear that Brahman, the universal Consciousness, is the creator of the universe, he also extols Krishna as each individual's personal deity. It is from him that we derive the values for daily living that is at the crux of the Lord's teaching.

The Philosophical Treatises

The philosophical works of Sankara comprise everything from single stanza invocations to a thousand stanzas on the state of the soul. They are so vast and varied, and often so disputed, that it will be well nigh impossible to list all of them. However, some of the chief ones are:

Ekasloki It is amazing that into one little stanza, Sankara could compress the quintessence of the Upanishads. The verse, Ekasloki, is in the form of a dialogue between the master and the disciple. Step by step, the master reveals the truth to the student - Consciousness alone is the light of the world. Consciousness can exist without the object, but the object gains an identity only because Consciousness supplies form to it. Ultimately, it is this Consciousness that is one's true Self. It is this Consciousness too that is Reality. And this is the same Consciousness that ultimately expresses itself as Brahman.

Dasasloki A ten-stanza invocation, Dasasloki, has been, the most poignant expression of the Self. Asked by his guru, to reveal his identity, Sankara starts by stating who he is not, expanding his context of reference, until he finally claims kinship with the Creator Himself. "I am Shiva," he ends, saying this in a note of high triumph. It is then that his guru, realizing the depth of Sankara's awareness, comes forth to meet and then initiate him into the life of an ascetic.

Vivekachudamani Consisting of 581 verses of philosophical discourse, Vivekachudamani (The Crest Jewel of Discrimination), is set in the traditional mould of questions asked by an ardent seeker and answers provided by a realized soul, who is his master. The central thesis of the treatise is that moksha or liberation can only be attained by a mind secure and still in knowledge. The possessor of such a mind is a gnani, the all-knowing one. The chief attribute of such a person is his ability to discriminate between that which is temporary, and that which is permanent, between the eternal and the transient. Through his prolonged discourse the master outlines man's journey on earth and how it can be uplifted to the realms of the spiritual. He explains that our actions arise from kama or desires. Kama, in its turn, arises from a sense of incompleteness in the individual. Man seeks to offset this incompleteness by looking outside himself. Encountering objects that excite his senses, he soon identifies himself with them, believing that they will bring him the perfection that is so elusive. Each quest ultimately ends in sorrow, because the cause of

man's imperfections lies embedded within his own mind, a mind that is both confused and lacking in discrimination. It is only when man realizes that the answer lies within, that he has taken the first step. From there, to a withdrawal from sensual gratification, to a longing for God-realization, to a one-pointed meditation on the Brahman, to a discovery that each one of us is Brahman - the master guides the disciple, until he stands free of bondage and glorious in his understanding. Vivekachudamani is indeed the crest jewel of the advaitic philosophy of life.

The Upadesasahasri Sankara was the one thinker who delved deep into the philosophy that he established as the truth. Along the way, he realized that his statements might not always be clear to the seeker, nor his thoughts always understood. Hence, he conceived of his own manual to advaita, called Upadesasahasri. Divided into two parts, the first in metre and the second in prose, Sankara dedicated the first part to the students, the second to the teachers. Of course, the aim of both parts was to secure the final release of the atman from the bondage of the body.

Atma Bodha Sankara was not only a philosopher and teacher, logician and thinker, but he was also a poet at heart. In Atma Bodha, a lyric of sixty-eight mellifluous verses, Sankara gives us a lucid analysis of the nature of the Self and describes in detail, the path to realization. In one verse, speaking about the gnani, he says,

The realized soul is self-contained joyousness, a lamp that glows within a jar's space, Content, in his own awareness.

Through images such as these, Sankara takes us on a journey, until we reach the destination we have lost down the years - ourselves.

Nirguna Manasa Puja Another dialogue between master and pupil, the Nirguna Manasa Puja, is a heartfelt series of questions the disciple asks, concerning the rituals of prayer. The student asks:

How do I worship thee, O Lord? What flowers do I offer? With what water bathe you, my Lord? What food present at your altar?

To which the master replies:

Worship the shining Self as the Lord,

With the flowers of surrender, garland your God, From the river of faith, bathe the Lord, with waters of your purity, For food, offer your understanding, still with serenity.

By taking devotion to this exalted level, Sankara dances in joy to the music of the universal Soul. Filled with intense devotion and ecstasy, this prayer is both touching and transcendental.

Kaupeena Panchakam Sankara was a sage of many parts, able to rise to the heights of bhakti and yet laugh like a child at life's vagaries. Multifaceted, multi- talented, Sankara looked at life with a keen eye, finding a message in the marvellous but also in the mundane. And it is from the latter that he derives his source of inspiration for his Kaupeena Panchakam, a five-stanza ode to the loincloth. Through this symbol, a cloth that barely covers one, Sankara sees the life of the ascetic, a man whose needs are so satisfied by a mere cloth that he wants for nothing, a man who desires no pleasures, yet is in a state of total bliss. Giving us a description of such a one, Sankara avers:

Roots and plants he lives on, A couple of handfuls is all he feeds, He sees wealth as no more than a fabric that is torn, The man in a loincloth is blessed indeed!

Sankara's ability to see the profound in the plain, the sublime in the ridiculous, is more than evident. For philosophy is not what is found only in the godly, it is found in the least of things, in the smallest of incidents, as much in the saint as in the lowly. And Sankara's verses are suffused with the divinity that soaks all of life.

Hymns of Adi Sankara Adi Sankara found expression for his intellectual brilliance through his commentaries, for his deep spirituality through his philosophical treatises, but it was only in his exquisite little songs that his heart, filled with devotion and love, found an apt outlet. While through his works on philosophy, he explained the tenets of advaita, Sankara used his musical little hymns as a medium to eulogize the Lord's many-splendoured manifestations as the still Shiva, the benign Vishnu, the furious Narasimha, the playful Krishna, the wise Ganesha, and the munificent female deity, Mahalakshmi or the fearsome Kali. These songs were sheer outpourings of profound piety, both highly philosophical yet extremely personal.

Sivanandalahiri

Sankara's devotional works were ecstatic expressions of joyousness, intense feelings of delight in the presence of a deity who was as close to him as a dear friend. Almost all these verses have, as their origin, a story of significance, or an event that triggered their composition. On one of his endless journeys across India, when he was in Srisailam, in Andhra Pradesh, he witnessed a Shiva linga under a marutha tree. So sensuous was the sight of the tree camouflaged by jasmine creepers, bowing reverentially before the linga, that Sankara felt waves of elation wash over him. Spontaneously, he burst into paeans in praise of Siva, verses we today call as the Sivanandalahiri. His bhakti bhava or feelings of deep elation, can only be understood through words like these:

Be it in the form of a God or of a human being, In that of an animal or a bird in flight, In the body of a mosquito or a worm that's crawling, No matter in which body I may alight, If I can be immersed in your meditation, No matter where, Lord, I will gain salvation.

Bhavani Ashtakam Sankara wrote some of the most soul-stirring stanzas to Devi, whom he worshipped as his very mother. He called her his refuge in times of trouble, his armour against evil, his destination when his life's journey came to an end. In the Bhavani Ashtakam, he cries, verily like a lost child,

Caught in a cycle of ceaseless life, Frightened to face either sorrow or strife, Filled constantly by lust and sin, Greed and desire, my companions, Uselessly am I tied to a life of misery, You alone can rescue me, Ma Bhavani.

The humility, the deep realization of dependence, the awareness of the frailty of the human condition, all these make the Bhavani Ashtakam an unparalleled ode, in the highest bhakti tradition.

Kanakadarastava These stanzas were a spontaneous appeal to the Goddess who is Lakshmi, the custodian of wealth, on behalf of a poor woman who could barely feed Sankara, when he called for alms at her doorstep. So potent is it supposed to be that those who chant it are convinced that it is the panacea to all poverty. But this was just one of the many songs Sankara sang to the Devi.

Soundaryalahiri

The most well known of Sankara's compositions to the female deity is the Soundaryalahiri, The Wave of Beauty. The genesis of this hymn is as mysterious as its completion. It is said that it originated in Kailash, from the Lord Shiva Himself, who wanted the world to know the strength and power of the female principle of creation. Legends also mention the fact that a part of it was destroyed either by Shiva's bull, Nandi, who chewed on it, or Ganesha, who is supposed to have scratched it out, so reluctant was he to have the beauty of his mother described so vividly. In either case, Sankara with divine assistance, completed the work. Yet, such was the extraordinary radiance of the female spirit, that Sankara stated, "My verses are like lighting a camphor in the presence of the sun or worshipping the ocean with droplets of water." Soundaryalahiri is a magnificent work of 100 stanzas. It begins on a most memorable note, when Sankara proclaims:

Shiva can be empowered to become creator Only if Shakti becomes his benefactor Without her constant assistance Shiva can bring nothing into existence.

The first forty-one verses, generally referred to as Ananda Lahiri, deal extensively with mantras, which are verses, yantras, which are abstract mystical designs for prayer, and tantras, which are supernatural rituals for propitiation of desires. These verses are highly philosophical and mystic in nature, the significance of which is not easily grasped by the layman. The latter 59 verses, which form the crux of Soundaryalahari, is an expression of the essence of the Mother, beautiful, radiant, awe-inspiring and overwhelming, in which Sankara pours forth an abundance of adjectives, a plethora of images, a cornucopia of concepts to capture the essence of the female form. At one point, he exclaims about the goddess' extreme munificence, saying:

I have been told that creation occurs when you open your eye, And when you shut them, all things die. I believe benign mother, you never shut your eyes, For how can you, the creator, allow things to die?

From the miniscule tip of the Devi's toenail to the captivating splendour of her eyes, from the parting on her hair, to the stud on her ear, no detail is spared. The richness of expression, the profusion of feelings, as well as the purity of its language, makes it an outstanding work of devotional poetry.

Krishashtakam

Almost every God in the Hindu pantheon was frozen for all times by Sankara - in verses, in images, in ideas that captured the essence of that deity. While Shiva was his chosen God, he found Vishnu and his manifold manifestations, especially Rama and Krishna of special significance. It is said that when Sankara's mother was on the verge of death, she had a vision of Shiva's ganas and was so scared that, to pacify her, Sankara sang to her of Krishna and his limitless appeal, his endless attractions and his eternal charm. That was the Krishashtakam, the verses that literally dance to Krishna's magic. Lilting in its music, full of verve and vitality, the verses are a mirror to the effervescent and ebullient child god, Balgopal.

I greet the child of the Vrajas, an ornament of their land, Whose very glance destroys every sin of man, Whose thoughts fill the mind with pleasure, Who is Nanda Gopa's constant treasure, Whose crown is a bunch of peacock feathers, Whose flute is a companion in all weather, Who is the music of the ocean of affection, I greet Krishna, the sea of all expression.

All this immense amount of work, vast and varied, impressive and inspired, scholarly and studious, yet joyous and jubilant, makes Sankara a saint without an equal. In the history of civilization, there will probably never be another quite like him.

Bhaja Govindam - Meaning and Message

T HIS TINY COMPILATION OF a mere 31 verses, entitled Bhaja Govindam, is certainly a drop in the ocean of Sankara's literary contribution. But what an exquisite little drop it is! For within its limited space, it contains the very essence of Vedanta. Each stanza holds out a message about man's futile pursuit of wealth, his obsession with lust and sensual gratification, his hypocrisy and greed, his hankering for position and power. All through the verses too are scattered pearls of wisdom - the Lord is the Self, the Self is within, the Lord and the Self are one. As the stanzas unravel, Sankara presents two pictures: one of man, lust-filled and lascivious, teetering between desires, doddering towards death, yet overpowered by all the ills that flesh is heir to; and in contrast to this, the perfect man, poised and peaceful, still and serene, over whom troubles hold no sway, before whom anxieties melt as clouds before the sun, on whom neither good nor bad has the least impact. The first individual is a bhogi, (a seeker of pleasure) the second a gnani, (a realized soul). Through the stanzas, Sankara gently guides us from one to the other.

Origin The genesis of Bhaja Govindam is as meaningful as the verses themselves. It is said, that on Adi Sankara's return to Kasi (Benares) from a tour of the southern states, fourteen of his disciples accompanied him. One day, as the entourage made its way down the street, Sankara witnessed a wrinkled old man, bent double over a text, muttering aloud in a vain attempt at learning something that he was peering at painfully. On further inspection, Sankara found that the man was actually struggling to memorize the rules of Sanskrit grammar. So appalled was Sankara at this needless waste of time, that he burst forth in spontaneous admonition:

O fool! Seek the Lord Govinda, Make him your refuge, your mantra, For, when death comes knocking at your door, Rules of grammar will help you no more.

This was just the beginning. As Sankara looked around him and saw

men with their infinite frailties, innumerable faults and unnecessary attachments, the verses just continued to pour, until there were thirteen strung together in a little garland of thought. All this while the disciples listened in mesmerized captivated silence. Then, as the master ceased, one of them just took off from where Sankara left, and then another and then one more, each adding one verse to the now growing garland. When the last of them had had their say, Sankara quietly summed up all their thoughts in the last four verses. So of the 31 stanzas we have, only 17 were the real utterances of Adi Sankara himself. We still however, say that Sankara authored Bhaja Govindam, for had it not been for his infinite grace, not one of his pupils would have been able to compose even a line! But whether it was Sankara himself or his disciples, the chief concern of all who contributed to Bhaja Govindam, was the destruction of man's illusions about life and living. No wonder, this work has oftentimes been called, Moha Mudgara, The End of Illusion. Of course, there are scholars who are particular about authorship and call the twelve stanzas Adi Sankara himself composed (the first stanza is considered a chorus), Dvadasa Manjarika Stotram, and the fourteen following stanzas, Chaturdasa Manjarika Stotram.

Synopsis Bhaja Govindam may be slight in size, but it is mighty in content. Stern and vehement in its tone, it warns man against the strangling noose of desire, with its many faces and phases. For desire, sometimes, devours one as lust, at other times masquerades as learning, on occasions it clings to one as greed, yet oftentimes it conceals itself as love of one's family. So, if we are not wary, the verses warn us, we could soon be helplessly caught in it suffocating hold. The verses also caution us against the other universal mental ailment - man's penchant for worrying which is initially a habit but soon becomes a psychological disease and its consequent reliance on false prophets for solace and succour. It then throws light on man's relationship with others. It counsels man against too much attachment to family for, often, their love is only a façade for selfishness. It alerts one against hypocrites who parade as gurus and carnal pleasures that finds expression as womanly virtue. But it does not stop there. It offers solutions as well. For even to recognize evil for what it is, we need the company of the good and the noble. They will automatically lead one to an understanding of the transitory nature of all of existence. This in turn will foster detachment from the world.

Then, poised within, the seeker sees the one Self in all things, the one identity in all creatures, the one God in every shape, form and expression. It is then, that he can lay claim to security and serenity, unmoved by the vagaries of life, knowing that it is no more than an illusion. With this knowledge, he is finally set on his course for realization. Sankara traces this journey graphically through image and rhyme, in Bhaja Govindam, building up to the final crescendo, where we understand that we are no less than Vishnu Himself, in all His wondrous glory. The verses hence, are an incisive piece of advise but also a prayer. They insist that man do his duty towards the world, but also that man dwell on his inner nature. They show us how, in our quest for material benefits, in our search for permanent joy, we have lost our way to the Divine. But, benign seer that Sankara was, through Bhaja Govindam, he also shows us the way back.

Publisher's Note

I N THIS WORK, we have provided not merely a translation of the thirty- one verses that constitute Bhaja Govindam; we have added an explanatory note as well, elucidating the essence of each verse. Written in prose, each commentary initially highlights the message of the verse and then drives home the point with the help of a story. These stories have been collated from sources as far-flung as the Sufi tradition and as familiar as The Bhagavat Purana and The Ramayana. Each story anchors the message of the verse, so that it serves a twin purpose - the reader understands the value of Sankara's message and then easily assimilates it into his own life. After all, more than all its metaphysical concerns, Adi Sankara's principle aim in writing Bhaja Govindam was undoubtedly to give mankind a wonderful tool for daily living! But, it is this precise point that contemporary readers often fail to comprehend. Misled by the title of the verses, they are apt to believe that this extended poetic composition is about abstract concepts, spiritual attitudes and philosophical concerns that are of no significance to them. Nothing could be further from the truth. For, the words of Bhaja Govindam have the ringing clarity of certainty; they encapsulate a world-view that is as pertinent today as when it was first expounded. They show us the way out of the morass of modern life. They are, in reality, a much-needed palliative to man's perennial problem of existence. It is to highlight the efficacy of the verses as well as to underscore their message that we have added an entire chapter, The Relevance of Bhaja Govindam, Today to the book. We hope they bring to you the balance, detachment and perspective that we all need to be able to bear with equanimity, the turbulence and tensions of the troubled times we live in.

18th April, 2008 Arun Mehta Publisher

Verse 1

Original भज गोविन्दं भज गोविन्दं गोविन्दं भज मूढमते। संप्राप्ते सन्निहिते काले न हि न हि रक्षति डुकृञ्करणे ।।१।।

Bhaja Govindam Bhaja Govindam Govindam Bhaja mudhamate Samprapte sannihite kaale Na hi, Na hi, rakshati dukrin karane

Translation

Chant, chant the name of Govinda Fool! Call, call out to Krishna! For, when Death comes knocking at your door, Rules of grammar will save you no more!

The Essence The first lines of Bhaja Govindam are not a gentle introduction to Adi Sankara's theme. Instead they are like a slap of cold water on the face, a wake-up call to humanity. And Sankara makes sure we hear him, by repeating his exhortation thrice. There is certainly a message in it. The first time the reference is to the body. "Draw your senses inwards," is what he seems to be saying, referring to man's obsession with his body. "Tune your heart and thoughts to God," is his advice, the second time around, now appealing to the mind. "Learn to discriminate between that which is purely temporary and the eternal face of the Lord," is his counsel, the third time, underscoring man's intellect. It is a timely call. For, through the centuries, amidst the advances and declines in civilization, man has steadfastly held on to one goal alone, never veering from it - the goal of amassment - whether of wealth, possessions, people or even knowledge. Surrounded by the physical accumulation of his belongings, the social accumulation of his friends

and the intellectual accumulation of degrees, man assumes that he is rich. He believes that he is secure. He is sure that he is safe. Yet, when testing times are nigh, his money, his friends and even his certificates come crashing down. And then, like flotsam and jetsam, he is tossed and tumbled on the stormy waters of life. Nowhere amidst all the paraphernalia that he has gathered is there a shelter for him. And man is lost in a fog that descends implacably over all he has acquired. It is a fog of ignorance, which looks outward for answers, a fog that assumes that solutions, security and safety lie in the world and those who people it. It is this fog of ignorance that Adi Sankara's clarion call pierces, clearly, sharply. With words that are both simple and direct. "The Lord is your friend," he simply says. "He alone can help you cross the ocean of samsara." All we need to do is to hitch our wagon to Him, with trust, with faith, with certitude. And He will see us through. He has no choice but to see us through. The Ramayana, while dealing essentially with the lives of Rama and Sita, has many intricate, little stories woven into it. One of them is that of Kevat, the boatman. Travelling through the forests, during their long exile, Rama, Sita and Lakshmana arrive at the banks of a river. Not knowing how to cross it, they are approached by a boatman, who introduces himself as Kevat. Rama tells him who they are, and explains their predicament. Kevat immediately helps them into his boat. As he reaches the other side and Rama, Sita and Lakshmana disembark, Rama, stands shame-faced before him. "Kevat, I hardly thought of it, till now. But how do I pay you?" Sita counters, " I certainly thought of it." Removing a ring that she still wears on her finger she extends it to Kevat. "Here, brother, will this payment suffice?" Kevat puts his hand behind his back, and stubbornly shakes his head. "I take no payment from you." "Why?" asks a confused Rama. Kevat seems reluctant to explain. But then he finally blurts out, "I take no payment from my family members." Rama, Sita and Lakshmana exchange bewildered glances. "How did we become family, Kevat?" Kevat seems struck by their incomprehension. "Don't you see, we are both boatmen?" he patiently explains to Rama. "I merely ferried you across this river in the jungle. When my time comes to cross the ocean of existence, only you will help me cross it. Now, do you understand?" It was only an illiterate boatman's perception. But striking, succinct, specific. A perception that often, blindfolded by our education, immune to the powerful pull of bhakti, we seem simply to lack. But even that perception is merely the first step. It is only when it helps us anchor ourselves firmly to the resounding name of Govinda that we

can become acquainted with the Self, which glows within each of us in divine radiance.

Verse 2

Original मूढ जहीहि धनागमतृष्णां कुरु सद्बुद्धिं मनसि वितृष्णाम्। यल्लभसे निजकर्मोपात्तं वित्तं तेन विनोदय चित्तम् ।।२।।

Mudha jaheehi dhanaagama trishnaam Kuru sadbudhim manasi vitrishnaam Yellabhase nijakarmo paattam Vittam tena vinodaya chittam

Translation

Fool! The thirst for wealth is never quenched - Quench instead your desire for contentment! Learn to be joyous, to be totally satisfied - With the fruit that your work will always provide!

The Essence The mind has often been compared to a monkey - restless, quicksilver, distracted and disturbed. Enticed by an object, it pursues it relentlessly, acquires it and then, soon enough tiring of it, discards it, in pursuit of the next tantalizing temptation. The ferris-wheel of desires neither stops nor loses momentum. The poet Browning had once said, "A man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?" But on the tree of desire, where new branches sprout everyday, nay every hour, full of allure and attractiveness, where is heaven to be found? "Not outside, but inside ... " says Adi Sankara. Not in the kaleidoscope of chimeric illusions called life, can man find the serene stillness, the calm equipoise that is truth ... that is joy. For that he will have to jump off the escalator of enjoyments that never satisfy. He will have to gather himself, withdraw. Then, only when anchored firmly in the security of self, will he find peace at last - unfolding, engulfing him like a blessing.

But, this is at the highest level of awareness, when the world just drops off from one, as an excrescence. But where we are situated, Sankara realizes how utterly impossible it would be to destroy craving, to grow beyond wants. So he merely asks us to rise up the ladder of desire, to initially only eschew the all-encompassing physical greed that sucks us in like a whirlpool. Then, as one is elevated to a plane, less self-absorbed and self- seeking, the welfare of others takes predominance over oneself. Yet, far more elevated than even this is to reach the level of passionate, concentrated, intellectual pursuit where one is completely consumed by an aim, bigger, better, higher than one's ego. At this level, as one is almost totally free of the contamination of the world, finally even the intellect drops away and the spiritual goal appears in the horizon, a goal that makes all else mere vanity. For with it, comes a state of desirelessness that is the destination of all the Self's wanderings. It is a gradual progression, but one that we must be constantly aware of. For, so captivating is the world, that we cannot be blamed for missing the end altogether in our all-absorbing pursuit of the means. The Bhagavad Puranas sketch many enchanting stories about the engaging love between Radha, the pastoral milkmaid and her flute playing cowherd, Krishna. This one is about their very last meeting, before Krishna was to leave for Mathura, to finally get in touch with his parents, Vasudeva and Devaki and claim his inheritance of a kingdom. His heart misses a beat as he watches Radha, wildly skipping about the trees, as free and frolicsome as the denizen of the jungle herself. He catches her hand in his and with tear-filled eyes, tells her of his mission, the reason for his leaving, his royal road ahead. Radha's eyes widen with wonder, then hurt and anger and then an overpowering, overwhelming sorrow. Carried along, in the swift currents of her emotions, Krishna blurts out, "Radha, come with me, Radha." And then he tries to tempt her, "Come Radha, I will deck you in diamonds, cover you in corals. You will be my queen, no more just an ordinary milkmaid. Then we will never be parted ... " Radha looks with seemingly unseeing eyes around her. Then, her gaze falls on Krishna's cow. "I was told," she says, "that in Kamsa's palace they worship a golden cow. It is diamond-studded, filled with precious pearls. Kamsa pays it respects every day, doesn't he?" "Yes, indeed!" says Krishna. Radha looks at Krishna's cow, playfully digging in the dirt. With a penetrative glance at him, she asks, "Do you think your cow would like to exchange places with the one in the palace?" "Not on your life!" emphatically replies Krishna. Gazing now with contentment at

the verdant surroundings which had always been home to her spirit, she says with finality, "There, you have your answer. I too am a creature of my pastures, of the trees that have sheltered me, the rivers that have nursed me, the creatures that have played with me. How then do you expect me to be alive on a pedestal?" For, when you are done with what the world has to offer you, with your senses still dissatisfied and your desires still unfulfilled, you will then realize the need to march to the tune of the inner drummer - one who is both spiritual and soul satisfying. Then, like a cocoon, contentment will envelop all you do, and each activity itself will be such a reward, that there will be no need to look beyond for either satiation or fulfillment.

Verse 3

Original नारीस्तनभरनाभीदेशं दष्ट्वा मा गा मोहावेशम्। एतन्मांसवसादिविकारं मनसि विचिन्तय वारं वारम् ।।३।।

Nari stanabhara naabhidesham Dhrishtvaa maa gaa mohaavesham Etanmamsavasadi vikaaram Manasi vichintaya vaaram vaaram

Translation

Enchanted and captivated by womanly attractions, Do not be trapped by its maddening delusions, These are but modifications of flesh and fat, Remind yourself repeatedly of that!

The Essence In this mesmeric world of enchantment and fascination, where objects allure and appeal, where sensations have a mystifying, magnetic hold on the mind, where each satiation only leads to another craving, there are two overriding impulses that no man seems to be able to overcome - the greed for gold and the lust for flesh. Both are superficially satisfying, both are, in reality, snares that entrap and entwine man in their tantalizing grasp. That is especially why Adi Sankara warns so solemnly about them. For they give man the illusion of joy, by apparently dispelling man's fear, of poverty and age. Yet they are both deceptive. Lust especially is elusive as it appears now in the garb of love, now in the garb of attachment, now coy, now cunning, now child-like, now worldly wise. It transforms its shape, its expression, its appearance, according to man's needs, always beckoning him, always fleeing before him. Yet, as Adi Sankara peels the layers that make the body so exciting to the senses, he reveals the ugly underbelly, the flesh, the fat, the

corrosion with age and disease, the decay and decrepitude that inevitably accompany it. And we come face to face with the fact - truth cannot be housed here. It needs a more permanent abode. So detrimental is this strongest of strong instincts when it takes possession of man that even the mightiest have been ground to dust in its wake. It is so powerful and so potent, that Shiva burnt Kama, the god of love to ashes in order to stop being disturbed by him. And yet, invisible, formless, he is still alive! And so mighty, that he even converted the scholarly, artistic king and conqueror Ravana into a dithering, incoherent beggar, stooping to mean tricks to seek favours of the stately Sita. With inevitable finality lust drove him to his doom. So too with the ascetic Vishwamitra. Immersed in meditation, completely detached from external reality, the power of his concentration was so immense that even the gods were frightened of his capacity. It was then that they persuaded Menaka to distract him with her womanly wiles. Which she did, until Vishwamitra was content merely to be a slave to passion. It took him many years to finally overcome the ardour he felt for Menaka, by which time all that he had won by way of rewards for his virtuous conduct had been lost. It was lust that turned Ahalya to stone, lust that killed Pandu, lust again that overcame even Diti, the chaste wife of Sage Kashyapa, leading to the total destruction of virtue through the birth of the daityas. Indeed, all mythologies are replete with the complete annihilation that is the result of succumbing to the lures of lust. No wonder, in clear, lucid term Adi Sankara warns us about the attraction to, and the consequent conquest by the flesh, terming it as ugly, empty and meaningless. But what can man do against the constant onslaught on his senses? If the world routinely throws up enticements, if titillation is around every corner, how does one guard or inure oneself against the inevitable collapse? Sankara's one word answer, at all times, in every situation, is 'awareness,' an awareness that creates perspective and adds distance from the objects of the world. It is an awareness that locates the attractions of the world where they really are, not in the objects, not even in the world, but in the mind that perceives them. So, what needs to be done is not remove the objects, but strengthen the mind, not turn away from the world, but train the intellect. Only then can man see things, as they really are - trivial, tainted, transient. And then, as he places all things in the world, where they belong, as illusions, no more, he will not only be able to deal with them, he will also be able to transform and channelize all of his own energy that is sensual into something entirely spiritual.

Verse 4

Original नलिनीदलगतजलमतितरलं तद्वज्जीवितमतिशयचपलम्। विद्धि व्याध्यभिमानग्रस्तं लोकं शोकहतं च समस्तम् ।।४।।

Nalinidalagata jala matitaralam Tadvat jivitam atishaya chapalam Viddhi vyaadhya abhimaanagrastam Lokam shokam hatam cha samastam

Translation

The water droplets, on the lotus leaf are poised tremulously, Like life, that is insecure, filled with uncertainty. Understand that it is consumed by disease and arrogance, The whole of existence is riddled with grievance.

The Essence The irony of existence is that man lives as if certain of his immortality, when, in reality, he is not even aware of what the next moment will bring. All things on earth are born to die, all things wither and fade away, all is uncertainty. The only permanence is change. Poised on the very edge of the precipice called life, there is no guarantee about anything at all. What is worse, man is besieged by enemies both from without and within. Age and time attack him relentlessly from outside, while disease, selfishness and arrogance corrupt him from within. Yet, so caught up is he in the passing parade of sensual gratification that he grasps at each delight as if it were permanent. And therefore ends each experience in dismay and despair. Despite all the lessons life teaches him, despite being repeatedly warned about the transitory nature of all things, man is still filled with pompous self- importance, with conceit and complacence. The Ramayana is replete with stories that illustrate such ideas. It was the eve of Rama's coronation. All of Ayodhya was a-bustle with

excitement and effervescence. People everywhere lit lamps, burst firecrackers, made artistic patterns with coloured powder and decorated their homes with flowers and incense sticks. At the palace, there was a flurry of activity. One of the royal keepers, went up to the jewel encased box and deferentially took out the gleaming crown from its case and placed it on a shelf. In the lamp light, the gem encrusted diadem, glittered and glowed in radiant colours. Nearby, on the floor stood a pair of wooden sandals, Rama's favourite footwear. Suddenly, the crown looked at the sandals and burst into tinkling laughter. It giggled, "Ah! Poor thing! What a plight yours is! Forever biting the dust, always ignored and treated badly. I, however, will be polished and caressed and will sit with pride on the very head of the king - monarch of all I see! Wouldn't you want to exchange places with me?" The sandals smiled humbly. "I know what my position is. But I do my work well, for I protect the royal feet from all that could hurt and harm. I wish for nothing more. I am content ... " Saying this the sandals sighed happily. The crown shook its sparkling head in disdain. Who could have predicted the irony of subsequent events? For, Rama was not crowned king. Instead the very next morning he was exiled to the forests for fourteen years. So, he never actually got to wear the crown. Even Bharata, Rama's brother, who was nominated in his place, refused to wear it. Wrapped and kept away, nobody bothered to look at it, as all it brought back were bitter memories. A while later, Bharata went to meet Rama in the forest, to persuade him to return. Of course he failed in his efforts, for Rama would never go back on what he considered was a promise. However Bharata finally insisted, "Brother, give me something that I can take back ... something that represents you ... " Strangely, that symbol happened to be Rama's sandals. Carrying it reverentially on his head, Bharata placed it with the utmost veneration on Rama's throne. Impossible as it sounds it was from that seat of honour that the humble sandal ruled, for the next fourteen years. Above it, in a forgotten cupboard languished the conceited crown. For, as Sankara succinctly points out, fame and glory, as well as sorrow and sufferings, are all but momentary events in this passage called life. To attach importance to either position or pelf is indeed to be completely misguided about the truth of existence. But what is this truth? If all things are meant to fade away, and all things die, what significance does life have anyway? As a nihilist philosopher once said, "Why bother, when birth and death are merely points and life is not a straight line?" But it is precisely to avoid this kind of cynicism that Sankara issues his warning. "Invest your energies where they will

be best used," he says. "Turn to the inner world, where the Self resides, now. Tomorrow may just be too late." We can ignore that warning only at our own peril.

Verse 5

Original यावद्वित्तोपार्जनसक्त- स्तावन्निजपरिवारो रक्त :। पश्चाज्जीवति जर्जरदेहे वार्तां कोऽपि न पृच्छति गेहे ॥५॥

Yaavad vitto paarjanasakta Staavad nijaparivaaro raktaha Paschatjeevati jarjara dehe Vartam ko'pi na prischhati gehe

Translation

As long as you have the ability to earn a living, So long will your family be attached and loving, Later, when old age takes residence in your body, Not one of them cares to keep you company!

The Essence Adi Sankara chronicles the life of man clouded with prejudices, blinded by illusion. He believes that he needs a family to love and to be loved. He acquires one. He takes pleasure in earning a living to provide for them, giving them the best he can, in terms of all that is material. Soon enough the years flit past and he is neither as healthy nor as sturdy as when he was in his prime. His feet falter, his eyes dim and his hearing fades. He can no longer go to work. Yet he is unfazed. Does he not have his children in whom he has invested all through his youth? Will they not protect and provide for him now? Yet, as he learns to his chagrin, reality is quite different. His children, whom he nurtured with such pride, suddenly find neither time for, nor interest in, his company. For in a world where everything is a transaction, where is the profit in taking care of the old? Especially as they are seen to have no future? After all, what can old people give? If the answer is nothing,

then why give them anything either? Does all this sound crass? Cruel? Inhuman? Adi Sankara would tell us that it is nothing but the truth of human existence. For, here, man can know the price of everything, the value of nothing. He can count and calculate, but he cannot emote or empathize. No wonder we are warned not to base our happiness on something as ephemeral as human relationships! An ancient tale talks of this. A widow worked hard and long to raise her only son with the best possible comforts. She denied herself that she could keep him happy and satisfied. And as boys went, he was a real gem. Intelligent and affectionate, he gave every indication of being both good and obedient. In due course, he found himself a job and then a beautiful bride as well. No sooner did the younger woman step across the threshold, than the older one's grip start loosening. She was relegated more and more to the background, until she was no more than a shadowy presence in their lives, more to be tolerated than to be loved and respected. But, the birth of her grandson somehow diminished this insignificance. On him she poured all the love and care she had once given her son. As the little boy grew, he sensed his parents' neglect and his grandmother's isolation and loneliness. One day, as his grandmother tried to wash her dish with shaking hands, it slipped, fell and broke. Instantly, the boy heard his mother say, "That old woman has now become a burden. Wonder what we can do with her ... " Then calling her son to her, she said, "Go to the corner shop and buy a tin plate for your grandmother. Hopefully, she will find it difficult to break that." A while later, the boy returned and presented his mother with two plates. "What is this?" she asked a trifle confused. "I thought I had asked for just one plate?" The boy nodded. "The first one is for grandma. The second is for you, when you become a grandma ... " A ruthless reflection of the truth. For, in this endless drama of action and reaction that we call life, even family is often no more than a convenience, extraneous to the real truth. But where does that truth lie? The Buddha reflected, "This house is mine, this son is mine, the fool bemoans himself to think ... when he himself is not his own ... " That is the answer. As long as we identify ourselves with our position, with our bank accounts, with the size and spread of our influence, we are still victims of the world's vagaries. If we strip our identity of all that useless tinsel, then we will finally come to what is pure and pristine- the Self. "Focus on it" says Sankara, "understand it not as a body in flux but as the soul that is still and serene, that can neither change nor be the manipulated." It is only then that the jigsaw called life will

start making sense. What we have quite often, however, are only distorted pieces of the puzzle ... how then can we see the whole picture?

Verse 6

Original यावत्पवनो निवसति देहे तावत्पृच्छति कुशलं गेहे। गतवति वायौ देहापाये भार्या बिभ्यति तस्मिन्काये ।।६।।

Yaavad pavano nivasati dehe Taavadprischhati kushalam gehe Gatavati vayau dehaapaaye Bhaarya bibhyati tasminkaye

Translation

As long as breath dwells in the body, So long will your family make concerned enquiry, But when breath departs, the body decays instantly, Then, even the wife flees from the corpse fearfully!

The Essence This is seemingly one of the harshest stanzas that Adi Sankara has written. In clear, lucid and almost cruel terms he underlines the ephemeral nature of life on earth. Man is attracted to all the fleeting joys that the world offers. He invests in wealth believing it will give him security; he invests in his family believing they will offer him support; he invests in relationships convinced that they will be eternal. Sankara declares he is erroneous on all counts. For his wealth is only temporary, his family often mercenary and his relationships essentially bargains. No sooner does an individual cease to be of use, than he is viewed as no more than a nuisance. Subsequently thereafter, the moment the breath leaves his body, his very corpse appear disgusting and disturbing, to be disposed off with alacrity. Is Sankara being cynical? Not really! For, he is only uncovering the veil that seems to envelop our perception of reality. Once we are aware that all of life is temporary, all of it is false, our expectations as

well as our attitude will certainly be transformed. It is said that the Buddha, was once asked by a sincere devotee, Kumara, "Lord, tell me, what is it that I can do to gain enlightenment?" The Buddha smiled and said, "Give up your attachment to family life and devote yourself to the quest for salvation ... " Kumara looked askance at the master, "But, Lord, you know that is not possible. My parents, my wife and my children are entirely dependent on me ... what will become of them, if I desert them at this crucial hour?" "Do you really think they cannot do without you?" he asked, "Most certainly!" was the vehement reply. The Buddha called his disciple Ananda to him and spoke awhile. Then he turned to Kumara. "Do exactly as Ananda says, and discover the truth for yourself." The next day, Kumara was taken on a stretcher to his home, covered in a white cloth. His family was told that he was dead. No sooner was the announcement made than his entire clan let out a collective wail of despair. Soon friends and neighbours gathered to sing his praises. Just then, Ananda entered the room. He said, "As a man of God, I have acquired some occult powers. I have the ability to bring the dead to life." Immediately there was a bustle of babbling voices, "Bring him back! We will give you anything to do so ... " "Ah! Then what I ask will be easily fulfilled," said Ananda. "All I want is that one of you take his place instead." Ananda looked meditatively around and in the ensuing silence slowly asked, "Now, which one of you will that be?" The parents looked a little embarrassed. "We anyway have but a few years left in us, and so many wishes to fulfill. Do not ask us for our lives ... " The children piped up, "We have just started off with our lives, how can we be expected to die?" Finally Ananda turned to the wife. She was immediately defensive. "I have my children to look after. Surely, they will be orphaned without a mother. So, I certainly cannot even consider the possibility." There was a deafening silence. Then the wife looked around, as if trying to seek a consensus. All faces were averted. Slowly, with deliberation, she said, "Now that we know that my husband is dead, we will get used to the idea. Although it is tough, it is in the interest of all that we let him go ... I think it is best that he remains dead ... " Ananda's smile seemed to suggest that he had expected just this answer. And then, before everyone's shocked eyes, the supposed dead body of Kumara, slowly got up. Without a backward glance, he walked out of the life he had held so dear, into the world of the renunciate ... Is Sankara trying to suggest that we all renounce the world? Walk away in the tradition of the Buddha, or of the little Sankara himself? Not at all! Indeed, what we must walk away from is not the body, never the body, but the mind. If one can live in the world and still not

partake of it, then one is truly a sanyasi, even if one is a grihastha. It is our possessiveness, our attachments, our strangling control over life that must end. Not our involvement in living. Only then will we realize that all of us who inhabit the human body are truly dispensable. What is not, is the immortal soul that resides within. Isn't it therefore imperative that we are in tune with that?

Verse 7

Original बालस्तावत्क्रीडासक्त- स्तरुणस्तावत्तरुणीसक्त :। वृद्धस्तावच्चिन्तासक्त : परमे ब्रह्मणि कोऽपि न सक्त: ॥।७॥

Baala staavad krida sakta- Tarunastaavad tarunisaktaha Vriddhastaavad chintaasaktaha Parme brahmani ko'pi na saktaha

Translation

Childhood is spent in years of play- Youth in passion passes away- Old age is riddled through with anxiety- But in all this, where is God, our only reality?

The Essence As man traverses the path of life, he is constantly engrossed in activity. Each stage, each age lures him inexorably into actions that seem exciting and enthralling. For the moment. Yet none of these activities will bring him either peace or stillness. As a child, play fills his senses and beguiles him, as a youth, lust overpowers and subdues him, and finally as an old man, anxiety overwhelms and envelops him. At no stage is man the master of his fate. Every time, everywhere he is but the slave of the moment. Every time, everywhere, he seems to find his destination, only to lose it all over again. For, sadly speaking, nowhere in all his actions, and at no point in all his thoughts, does he have time to rest in God. The master told his students, who sought to meditate, "You have to sit in silence, in stillness, until, you become a sieve, filled with God." The students looked at each other. "Surely the old guru had grown senile. How else could he talk of filling up a sieve? After all, could a sieve ever be filled?" One student, supposedly wiser than the others, said, "It is the master's way of saying that we can never learn the art

of meditation ... " But another would not be silenced in this manner. He decided to confront the master. "Guruji, tell me what did you mean by asking us to be sieves filled with God?" "Just that!" smiled the master. "Come take this cup and sieve and come with me to the river ... now let the sieve be filled with water ... " The student filled the cup and then emptied it into the sieve. For a second the water remained. Then, through the innumerable, miniscule holes all the water drained out, back into the river. "Try again!" smiled the guru. The student shrugged, knowing that the result would be the same, yet not wanting to disobey the master. Again and again he tried. Again and again, he failed. The master kept watching. Finally the student grew impatient. Throwing down both the cup and the sieve, he cried, "Guruji, you are making a fool of me! The sieve can never really be full!" "Is that so?" asked the master. Then, picking up the sieve, he threw it far into the river. The sieve floated for a moment. The next instant, as the water rose to cover it, it sank, filled to the brim with water. The guru explained. "All through our life, as we are first a brahmachari and then a grihasta, we yearn for the peace that is found only in God. So we give a chance to one or the other form of spiritual discipline. But, because we are so engrossed in the world, all our effort, all our perseverance, drains itself out, through our infinite attachments. In childhood, this is seen in our love for toys. We grow up and in youth, the dolls and the game sets are replaced by women, vehicles and wealth, power, position and pelf. The toys have just been transformed. And then we enter old age. Now the toys undergo one more metamorphosis. They become the noose of anxiety and the prison house of regret. For, despite our aging, at all times we are nothing but the victim of the changing currents of life, constantly restless, eternally shoreless. Until we turn to the only reality called God. Then, despite the world's innumerable assaults and the sense's constant attack, we remain impervious. But for that to happen, one will have to drown one's very identity in the Lord. Then, although we are still sieves we are forever filled with His grace." But in the life of man, so rife with responsibility, so consumed with commitment, where is the time for God? We believe that because we are doing our duty, we cannot also be expected to invest in spiritual practice. But because we pay God lip service alone, in prayers muttered incoherently, in rituals conducted insincerely, because we are merely half-hearted in our appeal, God forever eludes us. Sankara

explicates this condition by insisting that as long as we are caught up in the façade of life's action, we will eternally miss its essence.

Verse 8

Original का ते कान्ता कस्ते पुत्र : संसारोऽयमतीव विचित्र:। कस्य त्वं क : कुत आयात तत्त्वं चिन्तय तदिह भ्रातः ।।८॥।

Kaa te kaantaa, kaste putrah Samsaro'yamateeva vichitrah Kasyatvam kaha kuta aayaatah Tatvam chintaya tadiha bhraatah!

Translation

Who is your wife, who your son? On earth, strange are the relationships with everyone! Whom do you belong to? Who are you? From where do you come? My brother! Aren't these questions bothersome?

The Essence Adi Sankara's penetrative understanding of the human condition is nowhere more clear than in these highly rhetorical questions, he poses to his readers, "Who are you?" he asks with sharp insight. "Where do you come from?" he continues. "Whom do you belong to?" he adds. Sadly, man has no answers. We enter this world with the belief that this life is for real, that the body we inhabit is our identity. That it procures for us a passport for living on this earth. And then, we begin to define this identity through others - our parents and then our siblings. Soon enough, as we grow and reach out to others, our identities become increasingly complex. They begin to include persons we form relationships with - our spouse, our children, our friends. We believe that they are ours. They belong to us. We possess them. Nothing, alas! could be further from the truth. For, in reality, we are not our bodies. Our relatives are no more related to us than we are to them. They belong as little to us as we to

our body. Yet so real does the world seem, so true the tale of our senses, that we are loath to believe that it is only an illusion. After all, there is no other world that we know, no other reality that we are aware of. Yet, the truth is that we are the soul - a soul that is in transit. It uses this body for a while. But soon this gross, material thing we call the body will disintegrate, dissolve. And the soul will have to move on. To another body, another life, another set of individuals that it will mesh and meld with. And so, who are we but strangers in the night, who have met and bonded awhile, only to part and move on? And yet, how strong are our attachments! How powerful the ties that bind! It is only when we realize that all of this is but maya all of it a mere chimera, that we will begin our search for that which is real. And eventually if we are persistent and patient, we will be led to the Eternal, Deathless One. The Puranas, tell a story of the ubiquitous sage, Narada and Lord Krishna. One day, as they sat together, Narada asked Lord Krishna, "Lord, what is maya?" Krishna, looked up at the blazing summer sun and then at Narada enigmatically, and said, "Narada, I am thirsty. Can you fetch me a drink of water?" "Certainly!" said Narada, as he got up, feeling thirst parch his throat as well. He walked out of the leafy arbour in which he had been sitting, and soon found himself on the outskirts of a village. He knocked on the very first door. A beauteous woman, dazzling and demure, opened the door. For a while Narada gazed at her. Then, to his shock, he heard himself say, "Will you marry me?" The girl nodded. And Narada was a smitten householder. Soon, children were born and Narada settled down to a life of splendid domesticity. His family prospered and Narada was full of joy and wonder. Years passed. Narada was now a grandfather. His estates, family and renown had become legendary. Life couldn't have been better. And then, one evening, thunderclouds rumbled angrily. The river beside his house rose in wrath and rage. Flood waters swept across the fields, and in one fell sweep, Narada saw it carry away everything - his house, his belongings, his children and worst of all, his wife. All around him was devastation, destruction. Despair, desolation overpowered him and Narada, broken, battered, fell on his knees and cried from the depth of his agony, "Krishna!" The raging waters receded. In its stead stood the leafy arbour, where Krishna and he had been sitting. "Narada," the Lord gently asked, "where is my drink of water?" Like Narada, we too are caught in the currents of a fast-paced life, believing it to be true, thinking that it is real. But, all along in the background, Truth in the form of God waits - for our recognition, for

our realization, for our drink of water. The question is - when will we give it to Him?

Verse 9

Original सत्सङ्गत्वे निस्सङ्गत्वं निस्सङ्गत्वे निर्मोहत्वम्। निर्मोहत्वे निश्चलतत्त्वं निश्चलतत्त्वे जीवन्मुक्ति: ॥।९॥

Satsangatve nissangatvam Nissangatve nirmohatvam Nirmohatve nishchalatattvam Nischalatattve jeevanmuktihi

Translation

The company of the pure helps overcome attachment, Once attachment is conquered, all delusion is spent, When delusion disappears, Reality is the destination- When Reality is attained, life itself offers salvation!

The Essence Blinded by desire, beset by temptations, overcome by anxieties, how does man ever find his way out of this maze called life? In succinct, clear terms, Adi Sankara gives us the ladder of ascent, explaining it rung by rung. "Seek," he says, "always seek the company of the pure." In their midst, the aspirant soon learns discrimination, the discrimination that distinguishes between the temporary and the permanent, the ephemeral and the eternal. Then, through the constant use of discrimination, attachments just fall from him and he gains perspective. It is a perspective that helps establish the steady mind and temperament, a mind unaffected by joy, undisturbed by sorrow. Such a temperament alone can overcome the delusion that looks upon life as real, and all reality as everlasting. And when the veil of delusion is finally rent, the Truth is not only seen, but also experienced. And with that enriching experience, salvation is attained. Yet, none of this is possible without the company of the true

devotee. Lord Krishna, in The Bhagavad Gita had said that the best service that one could render the Lord is by becoming the devotee of his devotee. But in a world of hypocrisy and façades, of changing shapes and dissolving shadows, how is one to know who the true devotee is? Ramakrishna Paramahamsa, once humourously remarked, "Some seek the company of the sages only to smoke hemp." The Puranas tell of the bhakti, the complete surrender of the true seeker. Once Narada, who always prided himself on being Krishna's greatest devotee, found the Lord writhing in pain. On enquiry, the Lord replied, "Narada, do something. My head throbs and my breathing is shallow. Get me someone who can cure this pain ... " Narada was loath to see his Lord in this condition. Frantic, he ran from doctor to sage, to seek a remedy. But none knew quite what was to be done. Finally, Narada spoke to the Lord Himself. "Lord, do tell us, do you know what the remedy for your condition is?" Krishna curtly replied, "I thought you would never ask. Go, get the dust from the feet of a true devotee and apply it on my forehead. That will certainly ease my pain." Narada looked askance. To take the dust off one's feet and apply it to the Lord would be the greatest disrespect to Him. Worse, it was almost a sin! He was surely not going to be guilty of that! So, he went around heaven asking all who considered themselves the Lord's servants. But all those whom he enquired of, only solemnly shook their head in refusal. Finally, in frustration, Narada went down to earth. In Brindavan, he found the gopis about their daily chores. No sooner did they learn that he was their Lord's friend, they surrounded him, badgering him with enquiries. Narada only said, "The Lord is unwell. He wants the dust off the feet of his devotees to cure him ... " "Is that all?" chorused the gopis, and with alacrity, every single one of them gathered all the dust around them, filling it into a sack for Narada. "Is this enough?" they asked in concern. Narada was sure that they had no idea of the consequences of their action. He said, "Do you know that you could be damned for doing this?" The gopis simply replied, "Don't waste time. Go take the dust quickly to the Lord. For His sake if we have to rot in hell forever we will gladly do so." Such is the company Adi Sankara exhorts us to keep. For through their words, thoughts, attitudes, we will receive only the most positive, life-enhancing stimuli. Then, joyous and serene, when our minds are filled with the most uplifting vibrations, our intellect turns to the One who is the source of all this energy and our spirit is surrendered at His feet. But to even begin this journey we must seek out the good, the holy, the pure. Then as our lower tendencies are

shed in favour of the more spiritual ones, we find liberation, not after death, not in lives to come, but in the here, in the now. And then, in the ecstasy of that Divine love, we the seeker and He the sought become one.

Verse 10

Original वयसि गते क : कामविकार : शुष्के नीरे क : कासार :। क्षीणे वित्ते क : परिवारो ज्ञाते तत्त्वे क : संसार: ॥।१०॥

Vayasi gate kaha kaamavikaaraha Shushke neere kaha kaasaaraha Ksheene vitte kaha parivaro Gyaate tattve kaha samsaaraha

Translation

When youth has fled, where can lustful play be found? When its water has evaporated, where is the pond? When wealth has gone, where are the relatives? When Truth is found, what joy can the world give?

The Essence It is clear that there are certain phenomena in life that are inextricably linked. Adi Sankara gives two clear examples. They may seem sharp and critical, but are nevertheless most profoundly true. He talks of lust that coursing madly through youthful veins, overpowers and dominates the senses. He talks too of wealth that belonging to one, inevitably attracts its slavish dependents. And then, he wryly comments that when youth is gone, lust too departs, and when wealth is dissipated, dependents just disappear. Enlarging his canvas, he adds that the cause and effect connection in these two instances are as definite as that between water and a pond. One simply cannot exist without the other. Moving on to the spiritual plane, he draws the clear conclusion that truth and detachment too are linked. Once man appreciates and realizes the Truth for what it is, he can no longer be ensnared by the world of the senses. For, it is only in ignorance and in confusion that any individual can

demonstrate even the least fascination for the toys of the world. Once, he is awakened from this dream, he immediately understands that what he considers as reality is merely an illusion. And once and for all, he is cured of his absorption in it. It is said that Rukmini, princess of Vidarbha, saw this Truth when she fell in love with Krishna. Unable to live without her beloved, she fled her home, leaving all her wealth behind, claiming nothing for herself but the Lord's affection. Soon, however, Krishna brought home Satyabhama, the daughter of the chieftain, Satrajit. Vain about her beauty as well as her wealth, Satyabhama never lost an opportunity to score a point over Rukmini. Of course, Rukmini was so lost in love, she hardly noticed anything that Satyabhama tried. Once, Narada, longing for Krishna's company, kidnapped the Lord and took him to heaven. Rukmini, with her deep insight, soon realized what had happened. She invoked Narada, begging him to return the Lord who was her very life. After much pleading Narada consented on one condition. He would place the Lord on a pan of scales. Only if she or Satyabhama could weigh the other pan down to equalize the Lord's weight, could they have their husband back. Satyabhama laughed aloud at the absurdity. After all, Narada was challenging her, who had the vastest wealth in Dwarka! Without much ado, she immediately set about the task of heaping the pan with a little mountain of jewels, vessels as well as clothes. But no matter what she put on the pan, the Lord's pan always seemed heavier. Finally, Satyabhama conceded defeat. She burst into bitter tears, sure that she would lose her Lord. Rukmini, however, was not so downcast. With tender devotion, she placed a single leaf of basil, which she had used for her morning prayer on the pan. And lo! the pan was equalized. And without quite meaning to, Rukmini had effectively silenced Satyabhama. For, when your life itself is bhakti, then, like Surdas who preferred to be blind, or Meera who preferred to forgo her kingdom, nothing earthly can ever be attractive. Nor can anything compare with the ecstasy that the Lord's love evokes. Then, like Tulsidas who gave up the world, or like Ratnakar who transformed into Valmiki, the outer reality simply dissolves and one is steeped in the stillness and serenity of the soul. Then, one no longer looks for the Truth. One does not have to. One simply becomes the Truth.

Verse 11

Original मा कुरु धनजनयौवनगर्वं हरति निमेषात्काल : सर्वम्। मायामयमिदमखिलं बुध्वा ब्रह्मपदं त्वं प्रविश विदित्वा ।।११।।

Maa kuru dhana jana yauvana garvam Harati nimeshat kaalaha sarvam Maayaamayam idam akhilam budhvaa Brahmapadam tvam pravisha viditvaa

Translation

Do not take pride in wealth, people or your youthful days, It takes Time but a moment to loot it all away. When you know at last that all this is mere illusion- Then, in Brahman alone you will find realization!

The Essence When man gains control of possessions, people or even of beauty, he feels that he is the conqueror, the ultimate overlord of the whole world. Status, position as well as power make him indestructible, indispensable. Or so he thinks. He draws the circle of life around himself, convinced that the planets revolve on the axis of his glory. He struts the earth so absorbed in his own reflection that he hardly has time to observe others, or to know how he appears to them. How then is it possible for him to comprehend that his every belief is vanity, his position a mere charade, his very life, a play of fortune, no more? After all, one stroke of Time, and kings are reduced to paupers, healthy men are ridden with disease, and the beauty of youth is replaced by the wrinkles of age. One truth alone governs man's existence on earth, through all times, in all places, for all occasions - the statement, 'This too will pass.' And under the onslaught of the grim reaper called Time, nothing remains. Nothing? Not quite. For there is something that lasts after

life, beyond time. The Timeless, Indestructible, Invincible One. To know Him is surely to conquer time. All else is mere illusion. The Mahabharata succinctly illustrates this. The Pandavas, the five sons of King Pandu are sent away from Hastinapur, the capital of their kingdom by the deceitful Duryodhana, their cousin. Exiled in a bleak desert called Khandavaprastha, they convert it by dint of hard labour into the most delectable and wondrous kingdom on earth, Indraprastha. Yudhishtira then performs the Rajasuya, the ceremony that proclaims him to be the king of kings, emperor of all the earth that man can see. Never before had a king had such wealth, power or grandeur. It seems that finally, the stability the Pandavas have always sought, has finally come their way. Yet, soon after, Duryodhana, grown miserable with jealousy, calls the Pandavas to Hastinapur for a celebration, in which he challenges Yudhishtira to a game of dice. With one toss of the cube, Yudhishtira loses his kingdom, his wealth, his brothers and then his very wife. Finally, having lost all material wealth, with nothing but the clothes they stand in, the Pandavas are exiled once more, sent into the forest to spend thirteen years there, as wandering hermits. From king to pauper - sometimes all it requires is a turn of the wrist. Or a chance statement. As happened in the case of Lord Rama, turned all of a sudden from heir apparent to homeless wanderer merely on the strength of a long forgotten promise. But whether king or pauper, chieftain or servant, man's condition is constantly insecure, perennially unstable, eternally restless. When the Buddha returned to the land of men from his sojourn in the forest, a king who was a friend of his father's, came to him. Most of the kings who knew his royal lineage had never reconciled to one of their own kind becoming an ascetic, a wandering preacher. So, the king decided to persuade the Buddha to change his mind. "See," he pointed out, "I have all that any man could desire. Wealth, women, wine and power." The Buddha smiled gently, and then softly asked, "Your majesty, do you have peace?" Adi Sankara adds that in the human condition, that is an impossibility. For, here, man is constantly under the twin attack of time and chance. But there is another world of serenity and stillness, the natural world of the soul. To realize that, however, one must rise above one's sensory perceptions, discard what seems to be reality, relinquish what appears to give joy. Then in a state of calm quietude, one will gain unity with the Changeless Formless One, who is the very personification of peace.

Verse 12

Original दिनयामिन्यौ सायं प्रात ः शिशिरवसन्तौ पुनरायात :। काल : क्रीडति गच्छत्यायु तदपि न मुब्रत्याशावायुः ॥१२॥

Dinyaaminyau saayam praataha Shishira vasantau punaraayaataha Kaalaha kreedati gachhat aayu Tadapi na munchat aasha vayu

Translation

Day and night, dusk and dawn, Winter and spring arrive and are gone, Time sports, life ebbs away, And yet, the gusts of desire hold sway.

The Essence Man lives his life thinking he has all the time in the world to realize his dreams, to fulfill his desires. And before he knows it, time slips by in seconds, minutes, weeks and inexorably, in years as well. His once agile and able body grows weak and feeble, his sharp eyes no longer focus, his hair turns grey and he soon comprehends that time is no longer available in endless supply. He begins to see death not as a phenomena that happens to others but as something that can overtake him at any juncture. At such a point, what does man do? Does he wake up to the realization that his life so far has been an exercise in futility? That he must now, before it is too late, live in the awareness of his deathless soul? Does he understand that all material goals are vain and vapid? That he houses within him the Eternal Spirit? Actually, not at all. As age advances, man only becomes more tenacious, his grasp on life more demanding and stifling than ever before. Instead of letting go, he clutches on with greater ferocity. Instead of giving up, he grips.

And when life leaves his limbs, he relinquishes it with shuddering sorrow. With neither grace nor peace. For, nowhere, has man learnt to be the master, in control of himself. He is, at all times, merely a victim of his desires, his wants, his needs. To illustrate this idea, the Buddha told this story. An old man, feeble of step and hard of hearing, one day loses his way, in the forest near his home. While he struggles with his surroundings, where mammoth trees hide the sun from sight and creepers entangle all creatures, he is chased by a mad elephant. Alone and filled with fear, he slips and falls into a deep well. As he tumbles in, his hand reaches out for some support. It comes into contact with a branch, which he clutches, whose arms seem to stretch out just for his assistance. All the while, he constantly screams for help. Finally, he is heard. By a hungry lion that now peers at him from the rim of the well. From below the well, poisonous snakes inch their way towards him. And then he notices giant rats nibbling at the root of the branch from which he hangs. If he falls he knows he will be consumed by the turgid, deep waters of this cavernous hole. As he swings thus between death from above, below and around him, as he struggles for his very survival, against every kind of danger, he observes a bee hive on one side of the well. The bees circle his head, waiting to sting. At that moment, he notices some honey oozing and dripping out of the hive. Immediately, almost instinctively, he puts out his tongue to lick the drops as they fall. Thus does desire have a stranglehold on man. It has a myriad guises, speaks in multitudinous voices, appears in endless manifestations. It can be a child, innocent and beguiling or a woman, coy and demure. It can be an object, alluring and tantalizing or it can be an idea, mesmerizing and captivating. It seems sometimes a vision, sometimes a dream, on occasions a whisper, on another a thought. But at all times, it holds man in its vicious grip. And caught in its enticing embrace, man loses everything. Sadly even himself.

Verse 13

Original का ते कान्ताधनगतचिन्ता वातुल किं तव नास्ति नियन्ता। त्रिजगति सज्जनसंगतिरेका भवति भवार्णवतरणे नौका ।।१३॥

Kaa te kaanta dhanagata chinta Vaatula kim tava naasti niyanta Trija gati sajjana sangatireka Bhavati bhavarnavatarane nauka

Translation

Why worry about wife, why about wealth gained? Fool, isn't there for you the One who ordains? In all the three worlds, good company alone matters! It's the boat that will ferry you from here to hereafter!

The Essence If we were to think of the one malaise that has ruined man's condition, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually, it can be summed up in the one word, 'worry.' Worry is like a harmless little mouse, nibbling a little at a time, but as it gnaws, 'bit by bit,' it completely destroys the mind's stability. Each worry by itself seems entirely inconsequential. But the misery and mayhem it can cause is substantial. And yet, so integral a part of man's life is it, that if man had nothing to worry about, he would begin to worry about that. Is it then completely impossible for man to attain peace of mind? Not at all! For, if he could only have faith in the Spirit that moves all things, then he will know, he must know that nothing on earth happens without divine consent. And His law is perennially just, always fair. If he can only rest in this knowledge, then all his life will be lived with a joy that surpasses reason, a peace that surpasses understanding. The Buddha explained this idea through a story. He said that there

lived a king in far away times, who never seemed to have peace of mind. He conquered kingdoms, his worries increased. He married and brought home the most beautiful princesses of neighbouring kingdoms, and his worries became manifold. His sons grew up and the king went crazy wondering whom to appoint as the heir. Finally, he consulted the wise men of his kingdom. "I need peace," he said. "Waking and sleeping, I am dogged by nightmares." One of his wise men said, "Your majesty, find a man who is content. And wear his shirt. You will then be able to get rid of your problems." So a search was begun. High and low, far and wide the king's men went. In search of the happy man. But it seemed they would never find one. The whole world appeared to be drowned in sorrows. At last, when they had almost given up hope, they alighted upon one. Lying under a tree, stretched in sublime splendour, he whistled to himself, without a care in the world. The soldiers grabbed him and rushed him to the king's presence. "A happy man, your majesty," they said. "Have you no worries?" asked the king. "None whatsoever," said the man. "How is it so?" asked the king. "Because I know," said the man, with complete confidence, "the One who provides for the tiniest of creatures, will not neglect me. I rest in that faith, with joy." "But don't you desire anything?" asked the king. "With the sky as my roof, and the whole world for a home, with the animals and birds as my friends, is there anyone richer than me? What more can I desire?" asked the man. "Oh! You are wise!" said the king. "Give me your shirt. I wish to wear it." The man looked at the king and laughed out loud. "Your majesty," he said, "I have none ... " For peace is not to be found in one shirt. Or even in a million. Not in goods or in their accumulation. Not in the variety or the quantity of the objects one desires or possesses. Not in anything external. If it is to be found, one will have to search within. And if there is any help at all to be procured, it is in the company of those who are happy and wise. It is with their assistance that the boat of your 'self' can first be located, and then hitched to the star called God. Only then can it finally reach the safety of the harbour of moksha.

Verse 14

Original जटिलो मुण्डी लुञ्छितकेश : काषायाम्बरबहुकृतवेष :। पश्यन्नपि च न पश्यति मूढो ह्युदरनिमित्तं बहुकृतवेष: ।।१४॥

Jatilo mundi lunchhita keshaha Kaashaayaambara bahukrita veshaha Pashyannapi cha na pashyati mudho Hrudara nimitam bahukritha veshaha

Translation

Ascetics bald with matted locks or hair pulled right out- Or, those with ochre robes, who roam about, They are fools, for seeing, they still fail to see, For their garments are merely disguises to fill the belly.

The Essence This stanza is a sharp, critical look at society and those who seem to serve it. Insecure and full of fear, society searches for stability through the goodwill of the godly. It looks to him for answers, for peace. But, as society's needs grows, so does man's greed. And consequently, the cunning have learnt to adopt asceticism as nothing more than an occupation. Worse, it has become a façade to cheat those who are gullible and foolish. For, the so-called holy man uses the name of God and the scriptures merely to make money. He is aware that he is a hypocrite and yet, without the least of scruples, he shamelessly exploits the masses. It is a mark of a crumbling civilization that such men conceal the truth of life and yet hold sway over men's minds. What is truly amazing is that a statement made so many hundred years ago, seems just as true today. Swami Sivananda, often explained his ideas through parables. One day, he spoke of an ascetic named Ibrahim Adahm. Now, before

realization had dawned on Ibrahim, he had been a king, wealthy beyond measure. But, once he understood the meaning of life, Ibrahim handed over his throne to his next of kin and decided to lead the life of a wanderer. Yet, wherever he went, he travelled in great pomp and pageantry. His servants waited upon him, serving him the richest food and clothing him in the finest of garments. In fact even his tent was pitched with golden pegs. Now, it so happened that another wandering ascetic came upon Ibrahim. Gathering the people of the town, he mocked him saying, "What use is realization, if one cannot give up material comfort? Such are the false saints, who bring disrepute to our brotherhood!" As soon as his bitter words were over, Ibrahim called him. "Come, dear man. I would like to have your company. I wish to travel to Mecca." Reluctantly, the holy man agreed. So the next morning, the two set off. Ibrahim told his men, "Only the two of us will make this journey. Wait here, with my belongings, till I return." So, with nothing, except the clothes he wore, Ibrahim set off. Soon, the holy man in his company, made a pause. "What is it?" asked Ibrahim. "I need to go back to your tent," replied the ascetic. "Whatever for?" enquired Ibrahim. "You see," explained the man, "I have left my wooden bowl behind." Ibrahim smiled, "I have left everything behind and yet I have need for nothing. You have but one bowl and yet are so attached to it. The golden pegs you were so shocked to see were driven into the earth, not my heart." Swami Sivananda paused. "Such is the difference between those who appear to be saints and those who are genuine sages. The sage may live in splendour, yet it affects him as little as if he were living in the filth of the gutters. For he is above all objects, beyond all desires. He lives, unaffected by life." But those of us, who wish to reach spiritual realization, only see the sage's external reality. Then, in blind imitation, we don the robes, the beads, the matted locks and believe that we too have turned ascetic. Nothing could be further from the truth. For renunciation is not expressed through the body, or the clothes or even the objects of the world. It is an attitude, a point of view, a perspective. Then, even when surrounded by the trappings of a material world, one can still be a renunciate, untouched, untainted by all that the world has to offer. For to the one who is discerning, are not all these objects mere trifles?

Verse 15

Original अङ्गं गलितं पलितं मुण्डं दशनविहीनं जातं तुण्डम्। वृद्धो याति गृहीत्वा दण्डं तदपि न मुब्रत्याशापिण्डम् ।।१५।।

Angam galitam palitam mundam Dashanavihinam jaatam tundam Vriddho yaati griheetvaa dandam Tadapi na munchat aashapindam

Translation

The body is worn out, the hair turned grey, The teeth in the mouth have just wasted away. Clutching his staff, the decrepit man moves slowly, And yet, his bundle of desire clings to his body.

The Essence The world of desires is so tantalizing and yet so deceptive that an individual succumbs even without being aware of danger. And like a whirlpool, the world draws him further and further into its murky depths. Attractive and bewitching, desires tempt him. They appear as if they could fulfill him; they seem to afford contentment and peace. Yet, touch them and each desire only spirals into another and then another, till satisfaction completely eludes man. And he is caught in a trap of his own making! But who rules this fool's paradise? Who else but the senses? Gathering all the information about the world, and directing all man's operations, the senses are indeed the pathways to perdition. They are neither to be believed nor to be satiated. They are only to be controlled. No wonder as one grows older, the senses grow frailer - the teeth wear out, the spine bends over, the eyes get clouded and the ears grow dim. It is nature's way of making it easier for man to transcend the illusory world.

Yet, so perverse is man, that his bundle of desires are never lowered. They may change with time, they may alter with age, but they remain, constantly riding his back. Weighed and burdened by it, even in death he is confused, bewildered and completely frustrated, no more than a slave to his passions. The great saint Ramakrishna Paramahamsa, told of just this subtle sensory influence in man's life, through the story of an old couple who had decided to renounce the world. The man gave his considerable wealth away in charity and left his palatial mansion to his relatives, so that he could live in the forest. His wife followed him, although a little reluctantly. The man frequently instructed his wife on the simple life, on doing away with desires and giving up attachment. Often his wife nodded in assent. Yet the man got the impression that she was not quite convinced. One day, as he walked the forest path, he noticed a glittering object. He bent down to pick it up and, with a sense of shock, realized that it was a diamond. He thought of his wife and felt that she would want to possess it and thereby lose all the merits of her present life. He decided that rather than expose her to temptation, he would dig a pit and bury the offending stone. As he went about his task, his wife suddenly emerged from their little hut and enquired about his activity. In a hesitant tone, he revealed the object of his disquiet. His wife gave him a searching look and asked, "Why did you leave the world, if you can still see the distinction between the diamond and the dust?" Thus is man. He can give up every external object, yet the craving that tugs at the senses, the longing that tears at the heart, the restless desires that toss the mind, why, they are things that he takes to the grave. For it is not in external renunciation that a man becomes a saint, it is in the inner quiet of the soul. Ultimately, to the detached being, a feast is the same as a fast, a hut is as much home as a palace. Always, it is the mind that creates cravings; finally, it is the mind that has to conquer it as well. Most of us, however, have forfeited our lives to the cheap thrills of the senses. As age catches up with us, our desires undergo transformation, not deletion. Our enchantment with the world does not decrease even by an iota. For asleep or awake, our minds are constantly engaged with it. And so doddering and dazed, we still continue to chase our flights of fantasies, even if they are by now, only imaginary ones. But it need not be like this. There is another way to grow old. And Sankara tells us how. "Curtail your contact with the world," he says, "withdraw your attention from the external to the internal." Exercised through the discipline of meditation, our focus is sharpened and our

equilibrium strengthened. Then, buttressed by a philosophy that advocates constant awareness, reinforced by a steady concentration on the spiritual, we can finally arrive at a point where, we become the calm masters of our desires, not contemptuous slaves to them. Then, as we look with equal eye on life's vagaries, without the slightest tinge of need or regret, we will have become truly wise.

Verse 16

Original अग्रे वह्नि : पृष्ठे भानू : रात्रौ चुबुकसमर्पितजानु ः। करतलभिक्षस्तरुतलवास स्तदपि न मुब्रत्याशापाशा: ।।१६।।

Agre vanhihi prishthe bhaanuhu Raatrau chubuka samarpitajaanuhu Karatalabhiksha starutalavasa- Stadapi na munchat aashaapaashaha

Translation

Sitting before the fire, or with his back to the sunlight, Clutching his knees to his chin, he sleeps at night, Stretching his palms for alms under a shady tree, The noose of desire still grips him tightly.

The Essence This stanza describes the plight of the ascetic, a man who is the exact opposite of the householder of the previous stanza. He is a homeless wanderer, constantly seeking shelter, from the vagaries of the weather. In summer, he is to be found under the shade of a leafy tree, taking refuge from the sweltering blaze of the sun. In winter he lights a fire to warm his shivering frame, and when that too dies down, merely hugs his body to warm himself. Having no means of earning a living, he is entirely dependent on the generosity of society that doles out alms to him. Nothing at all belongs to him. Not even an object. And yet, Sankara avers, even he is not free from desire. For, external denial is merely an outward expression. True asceticism is that which takes place in the mind and heart, in the soul and spirit of an individual. Where there is detachment and dispassion. Where there is neither yearning nor craving. Where there is peace and quiet. Two examples come to mind. One is of the great King Mahabali, who lived in steady wisdom, in spite of all the pomp and pageantry of

his kingdom. The other is of a monk, whose life was bereft of all earthly comfort. Both lived in diametrically opposite circumstances. Yet, both were victims, in just the way Sankara notes here. The Vishnu Purana speaks of the renowned munificence and charitable nature of the great King Mahabali. In public, he was wont to proclaim, "Ask and Mahabali will not deny you. There is nothing that Mahabali promises and Mahabali fails to give ... " It was said that not only the world but heaven too was moved by the generosity of this great and giving soul. And so Vishnu took the form of the dwarf, Vamana and requested for only three feet of land. Mahabali begged, "Oh! Dwarf! Don't belittle a great king in this manner. Ask more, much more!" he encouraged. But the dwarf was firm. "Three feet!" he insisted. "No more. No less!" Mahabali immediately agreed. Only to see the dwarf grow so huge, so expansive that one foot covered the entire earth and the other, the whole sky. Being left with no option, Mahabali had to offer his own head for the third foot to be placed. And he was crushed to death. But why did this greatest of king meet this sorry fate? Wasn't his end too cruel for one so kind? Not really. For Mahabali had one failing that put to naught all else in his character - an overweening, overwhelming vanity. It was just one flaw, but one that showed Mahabali up for what he was - a spiritual pauper. It was this that the great Zen masters pointed out when they told the story of a saint, a great man of God who was on his death bed. All his disciples gathered around him, all openly wept at their imminent loss. Then one of them began to recount the master's virtues, "He is a true man of God," he said. And then a second added, "He is generous." A third proclaimed, "He is the wisest of them all." Praise poured rich and fast. About the master's compassion, his understanding, his love and his forbearance. Suddenly the students looked down at the master's bed and saw him vigourously shake his head. One of them went up to him, "Is anything the matter, master?" he asked. The master weakly whispered, "My modesty, my modesty, tell them to speak about my modesty too!" For even in the clutches of death, ego still reigns supreme. And man is consumed and subsumed by his needs. The truth, however, is that all needs, all wants, indeed all thoughts of wealth are an absurdity, because we live our entire lives in the very lap of plenty. And yet, we are eternal beggars asking, always asking. When we are through with our physical demands, when we are done with demanding love, we then beg for the alms of appreciation and acclaim from a reluctant world. Yet, as the Buddha had insisted, desire is the root of all man's sorrows. Even if the desire is only for acceptance or even enlightenment. For even to desire enlightenment is to make a

difference between oneself and enlightenment; to desire God is to see oneself as separate from Him. Ultimately, to the knowing one, there is no difference. Till we reach that stage of knowing, spirituality will only be an idea, a concept.

Verse 17

Original कुरुते गङ्गासागरगमनं व्रतपरिपालनमथवा दानम्। ज्ञानविहीन : सर्वमतेन भजति न मुक्तिं जन्मशतेन ।।१७।।

Kurute Ganga saagara gamanam Vrataparipalanam athava daanam Gyaanaviheenaha sarvamatena Bhajati na muktim janmashatena

Translation

One may go on a pilgrimage to where the Ganga meets the sea, Or observe vows, or give gifts in charity, Or study each school of thought yet if truth is not an experience, Even after a hundred lives, a man gains no deliverance.

The Essence The desire for liberation is latent in each human soul. It is a call, clear as a bell, that rings for every one. Yet, because we are so diverse in our abilities and interests, the way is not the same for all. For some, it is learning and knowledge that is imperative. So these are the people who will read the scriptures, evaluate each school of thought and try to understand philosophy. "Knowledge is the way," they seem to proclaim. But not all can be jnana margis. For those who cannot, there is the path of action. So, they set out on pilgrimages, visit locations that are holy and observe rituals. They do deeds that are good and they become karma margis. Still others offer prayers, chanting the name of the Lord in exultant ecstasy. They are so immersed in devotion that they are the veritable expressions of bhakti. Yet, insists Sankara, despite all their myriad efforts, none of them may really be able to extricate themselves from the endless cycle of birth and rebirth. This is especially because, they often make the

cardinal mistake of confusing the means with the ends. For whether on the path of knowledge, or action or even of devotion, man is still only a traveller. And will continue to be one, even after a hundred lifetimes, till he gains a first hand experience, an intimate acquaintance, a complete oneness with the Divine. The story is told of the great Varkhari saint, Eknath of Maharashtra. Always compassionate and filled with a longing to spread the word of God, he translated the scriptures into the language of the common man, Marathi, and held his discourses in the same language as well. Despite being a Brahmin, Eknath saw no distinction amongst people and all were welcome to his kirtans. Eknath's son Hari Pandit, a Sanskrit scholar completely disapproved of what he called, his father's wayward ways. One day, an old woman, who had long harboured a desire to feed a thousand Brahmins, called upon Eknath. "Master," she addressed him, "I have neither the means nor the resources to feed a thousand people. But in my mind you are equal to a thousand. Will you accept my invitation?" Eknath nodded. But his son Hari Pandit immediately interrupted. "Father, how can you so easily be flattered by the opinion of the illiterate? And then, actually accept their invitation?" His father's face fell. So, Hari added. "You can go, father, but only if I personally cook your meal. A Brahmin cannot eat food cooked by just anyone at all!" However, the old woman was so happy, she did not protest. On the day of the feast, Hari observed that the old woman had served Eknath something she had cooked which he accepted with relish. Hari was furious, considering this to be a personal affront. He was about to leave the place, when Eknath said, "Son, it is courteous to dispose of the leaf in which food is eaten. Wait till I finish my meal, and put my leaf away. Then you may do as you want." Chastised Hari waited till the meal was over. Then he bent to lift his father's leaf. His face soon registered shock as he found another below it. He lifted that to find another. And then another. Hari's back ached as he kept at the task, counting leaves till it amounted to a thousand! Then there were no more. With a flash he understood why his father was equal to a thousand scholars! For, unlike him, he had not merely read the letters of the scriptures. He had not merely understood them. He had lived them! In all his actions, in all his words, in his loving relationship with the least of God's children, he exhibited a personal rapport with Him, a rapport alas! that Hari had never had. For unlike Hari who believed that to learn was to know, Eknath was aware that learning was only a ladder. Always, at all times, his sight was fixed, unwaveringly, unblinkingly on the Lord, who was his

guide. And being immersed in Him, he was always in a state of bliss. That one personal affinity with the Lord, that singular equation, is all that is needed. Weighed against all the might of scholarship, all the strength of rituals, it still holds its own. Indeed, it alone remains. For whether one accumulates charitable deeds, or knowledge of the scriptures or even elevating thoughts, all of it is only so much baggage, so much more load on one's spiritual shoulders. To dedicate all of life at the Divine altar, to live as His instrument, to be no more than a tool in His hand, why, that is to truly know Him.

Verse 18

Original सुरमन्दिरतरुमूलनिवास : शय्या भूतलमजिनं वास :। सर्वपरिग्रहभोगत्याग : कस्य सुखं न करोति विराग: ।।१८।।

Sura mandira taru moola nivasaha Shayya bhootalam ajinam vasaha Sarva parigraha bhoga tyaagaha Kasya sukham na karoti viragaha

Translation

Sheltering in temples, under some trees, Sleeping on the ground, clothed in skin only, Renouncing both possessions as well as their enjoyment, To whom will dispassion not bring contentment?

The Essence In the previous stanzas, Sankara had a look first at the householder and then at the ascetic. He states that while the householder, even when he tottered with age was in the grip of desire, the ascetic only made an outward show of renunciation, clinging desperately to his needs and wants. No matter where one looked, it seemed that man could never really rise above the material circumstances of his life. He was doomed to be a victim of greed and selfishness. But does that mean that there is just no hope of salvation for fallen man? Not at all. For close on the heels of the previous verses, Sankara gives us this stanza. "There are true seekers," he says, and goes on to describe their qualities. Essentially, Sankara says, the renunciate is one who is free. He is bound by neither person nor thought. With merely the shade of the trees for a roof, and the bare ground for a bed, the whole world is his and he, the world's. Since he stays nowhere, he accumulates nothing. And since everything belongs to him, he hankers for nothing. Like all of nature, he is his true self, without adornment or decoration, content

with merely being. Sharing with all creatures the same rhythm of life, he lives and breathes the energy of the Divine. The sage Ramakrishna Paramahamsa says that to be touched by the shadow of such a one is to live in grace. To illustrate the idea, he told the tale of a thief. One day, he quietly entered the palace of the king. There, he overheard the king tell his wife, "I will give our daughter in marriage to one of the sadhus living on the banks of the river." The thief's heart leapt with joy. "Here," he thought to himself, "was an opportunity to get rich quick." All he had to do was smear his body with ash, wear ochre robes and a string of beads and sit amidst the holy men. This he did, choosing a place close to the palace, in order to be sighted first. Unfortunately, the guards who were assigned the task of asking the holy men, started from the riverside. He watched with bated breath, knowing that he might just miss the opportunity of a lifetime. However, as he observed the holy men, he was filled with surprise. For each sadhu merely shook his head. Not one was interested in marrying the daughter of the king. And then it was the thief's turn. He was about to acquiesce with alacrity, when a thought came to him in a flash. "If by merely wearing the garment of a sadhu I have brought the king to me, imagine what could be in store, if I really become an ascetic! Probably a meeting with God Himself." So powerful was that thought, that he rose and walked away, never to desire another thing in his life. For that is how it is. Once the Divine infects you with his magic, then all things of the world automatically fall away. Then one's external circumstance ceases to matter, indeed it becomes inessential. Constantly centred in the bliss of realization, one could be a king like Janaka or a recluse like Ramana, a princess like Mira or a potter like Gora. The condition and circumstances just do not matter, what does is one's constant state of happiness. Not because one has rejected or disparaged the world. On the contrary. The joyous celebration springs from an intense self- sufficiency. One that neither needs nor asks anything from the world. For all that is needed has already been found, in the one place where all things abide - within.

Verse 19

Original योगरतो वा भोगरतो वा सङ्गरतो वा सङ्गविहीन :। यस्य ब्रह्मणि रमते चित्तं नन्दति नन्दति नन्दत्येव ।।१९।।

Yogarato va bhogarato va Sangarato vaa sangaviheenaha Yasya Brahmani ramate chitam Nandati nandati nandatyeva

Translation

Revelling in spiritual practices or in sensual gratification, Content both in the company of people and in isolation, He, whose mind delights in being fixed on the Self, He is indeed the embodied expression of joy itself.

The Essence In evocatively expressive words, Sankara describes the state of a realized soul. He is one who could be involved in spiritual practice. Or he could be immersed in sense satiation. He could be found amidst the constant chatter of company, or he could be discovered in the stillness of solitude. He could be rich as a king, penniless as a beggar, beautiful as Mirabai, ugly as Ashtavakra. He could be as peaceful as sage Veda Vyas or as short tempered as Durvasa. He could go forth to battle like the seer Eknath or he could allow an entire ant-hill to form over him like sage Valmiki. And yet, he would remain a saint. For, sainthood is a state of mind. A condition of nature. An attitude. Not an outlook, but an inlook. And there, if Brahman is located and experienced, then the soul is in a divine dance, an exuberant ecstasy. At all times, in all places, in all situations. A story of a Buddhist monk was once told to disciples of the Buddha to explain the concept of a still, serene mind, unaffected by

circumstances, undeterred by situations. The monk was out, one day, in the morning, to beg for alms. This was part of the routine he followed every day. On that morning, as he passed by a house, he saw a landlord, stick in hand, beating a man. The poor man was bent double with the blows. The compassionate monk was immediately affected. He went up to the landlord and tried to reason with him. But so upset was the landlord, that he turned on the monk instead and beat him black and blue. Unresisting, the monk collapsed, and was soon unconscious. Word spread about the happenings. His fellow monks came to the scene, picked the unconscious monk up and returned to the monastery. They immediately set out to take care of their injured friend. They bathed and dressed his wounds and wiped his face with a cold piece of cloth. In a while, the monk opened his eyes. Next to him stood one of his brothers with a glass of milk in his hand. The head priest said, "Offer it to him but also ask him a question to check whether he is really conscious." So, the monks asked him, "Brother, do you know what I am feeding you?" Promptly came the answer, "Milk." And then came the next question, "Do you know who is feeding it to you?" With a smile on his face, the monk replied, "The man who hit me with a stick is the man who is feeding me milk." For, in the eyes of the man of God, good fortune or ill, sinner or saint, trouble or triumph, all are aspects of the Divine and all are welcome. Anchored in the firm faith that only steadfastness can bring, he is unmoved by sorrow as he is unshaken by joy. He is, as The Bhagavad Gita puts it, the sthitha pragya, the man of steady disposition. He is at all times, calm, at peace, in equipoise. He not only reflects the quiet wisdom of Brahman, he is Brahman, the embodiment, the human expression of Sat-Chit-Anand.

Verse 20

Original भगवद्रीता किञ्रिदधीता गङ्गाजललवकणिका पीता। सकृदपि येन मुरारिसमर्चा क्रियते तस्य यमेन न चर्चा ।।२०।

Bhagavad Gita kinchita dheeta Ganga jalalava kanika peeta Sakrudapi yena muraari samarcha Kriyate tasya yamena na charcha

Translation

To have studied even a snippet of the Bhagavad Gita, To have drunk even a sip of the river Ganga, To have worshipped even once Murari, who is Krishna, Is to have conquered the Lord of Death, Yama.

The Essence After describing to us the condition of the perfect soul in the preceding two stanzas, Sankara elaborates the methods by which this state can be reached. To be a spiritual aspirant, one would have to partake of the wisdom of The Bhagavad Gita, the most practical guide to everyday living. But, given the stress and strain of daily life, for most people, a deep understanding of it would surely be impossible! Hence, Sankara exhorts, "Read a stanza, a snippet, even a word! For that too will help." Similarly, a dip in the waters of the Ganges is supposed to purge an individual of sins committed in many births. Especially since, for the Hindu mind, the Ganges is seen not merely as a river but the very embodiment of the Supreme Reality. But not all can reach the Ganges. For them, states Sankara, merely a sip of the holy water, is sure to bring solace. Finally, Sankara consoles those who can do neither. "Never fear," he says, "The Lord can be attained even by a mention of his name."

In The Bhagavad Gita, Krishna reassures Arjuna. "If one offers me, with love and devotion, a leaf, a flower, a slice of fruit or even a drop of water, I will accept it."* That is why it is essentially false to believe that he alone is a devotee who constantly chants the Lord's name, or he alone is a seeker, who visits every place of pilgrimage. For, in reality, a true bhakta, may not really be involved either in prayer or pilgrimage but he imbues all he does, dedicates all he thinks, surrounds all he feels, with God-consciousness, with God-love. The story is told of Vibheeshana, the demon king Ravana's brother. A devotee of Rama, he had initially declined the kingdom of Sri Lanka, when it was offered to him. He said, "Rama's name itself contains all the kingdoms of this and the coming worlds. Why would I need anything else, anything more?" Yet, when he was constrained to take up royal duties, having surrendered himself at Rama's feet, he spent his days in complete devotion to the Lord. Once, it so happened that a messenger arrived at his palace, with news from Ayodhya. He had to return that very night. However, no boats were available to ferry him across. Then King Vibheeshana quietly beckoned to the man. "On a leaf, I will write a sacred word and enclose it in your waist cloth. Have faith and you will be able to walk on water. However, if you lose faith, you will surely drown." The man tied the waistband around him and set off. He walked the waters with ease. But soon, he thought, "The word the king has written is surely a magical one. I wonder what it is." So saying, he undid his waistband and took out the leaf. He read the word on it. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "this is no magic syllable, it is only the name of Rama, king of Ayodhya. How is it possible that the name can help me float?" Before he knew what was happening, the messenger found himself sinking into the waters. For, we too are like the messenger, hoping for mammoth miracles, for fireworks and flashy symbols to signal the Lord's arrival. Yet, the Lord visits on padded paws, and if we are attuned to Him, we will recognize His presence in all things, take refuge in His person, at all times. Not by the performance of mighty and majestic deeds, but even through miniscule and minute ones, possible not only for the spiritually adept but for every novice on the path. For, Sankara insists that by a mere glance at The Bhagavad Gita, one's life can be on a steady keel, by merely chanting the name of Murari, one's ego can be held in thrall. Anchored in right thought, protected by an armour of right attitude, one is then ready for the onslaught of the world. Then, even if Yama of the kingdom of Death visits us, takes possession of our body, he cannot conquer us. For when we have surrendered to the Lord, we become one with the Spirit. Of which Krishna proclaims, "Weapons cannot pierce it, fire

cannot burn it, water cannot moisten it and wind cannot dry it."* It is. And will forever be. And so can we. If we learn to identify with it.

• The Bhagavad Gita, Chapter 9, Verse 26 * The Bhagavad Gita, Chapter 2, Verse 23

Verse 21

Original पुनरपि जननं पुनरपि मरणं पुनरपि जननीजठरे शयनम्। इह संसारे बहुदुस्तारे कृपयाऽपारे पाहि मुरारे ।।२१।।

Punarapi jananam punarapi maranam Punarapi janani jathare shayanam Iha samsare bahudustare Kripaya'pare pahi Murare

Translation

To be born repeatedly, to die, and then, To lie in the mother's womb, once again, Torturous is it, to traverse this place, Be merciful, Lord, save me with your grace.

The Essence Despite all man's endeavours, despite his best efforts, Sankara warns us that delusion is a capricious enemy. It comes in the form of desire, it appears in the disguise of enjoyment. It allures with its appeal, it tempts with its variety, it beckons with its beauty. What can frail man do in its presence, but succumb? And once he is a victim, he is caught in a vicious cycle that has no end. And tossed like a pebble in the whirlpool of life, he tumbles from vanity to vanity without end. And when death comes knocking on his door, he is still unfulfilled, still dissatisfied, still craving, still seeking. And because he dies unhappy, he is born again. And yet again. And each birth is a travail, each passage an agony, each death, a torment. And yet, man does not learn; man will not learn - that there is a way out, there is a road beyond, there is a means to break this interminable, incessant cycle. That route is through detachment, consciousness, serenity. But Sanakra adds, "More important than all these, more significant that every human act, is the mercy, the infinite grace of God. Throw

yourself at His feet," he advises, "and in His good time, salvation will be yours. He will lift you, He will unburden you, He will save you." The story is of King Bharata, who was filled with such spiritual yearning, that even in his prime, he gave up his kingdom to retire into the forests, to meditate on the One Reality. There, his focus and concentration were so profound, that salvation was almost his. Then, close to the hut in which he lived, a deer gave birth to a young one and died. Bharata soon became obsessed with the care of this creature. It took precedence over all else, even his prayer. And so, at the point of death, so attached was he to the deer, that he cried aloud, "What will become of my deer, if I die?" And hence, despite all his merits, Bharata had to suffer birth in this world, once more. And this time as a deer, for that was his last thought. "So great" Sankara would say, "is the power of delusion." But Bharata had learnt his lesson. This time, in the body of a deer, he lived close to the hermitage of a sage, his mind constantly fixed on God. When he gained human birth, the third time around, Bharata resolved it would be his last. Convinced about the futility of all contact with the world, and all human interaction, he neither spoke nor responded to anyone around him. The result was that he was considered mentally challenged and even called Jada Bharata, 'the dim witted one.' Until, grown to manhood, he was ordered by King Rahuguna to carry his palanquin. It was while carrying it that Bharata, began jumping as he walked, in order to avoid hurting the least of creatures that crawled on the ground. In anger, the king remarked, "Do you find carrying the dead weight of your body so difficult, that you hop around, you fool?" And Bharata spoke for the very first time, "You address not me, O King, when you address the body," he said, "For this thing called the body is only an appearance. And you were right to call my body a dead weight, for truly is it dead. What keeps it alive however is something that will never die - the soul. And that soul is the same, whether in king or commoner. For both are the property of the Divine." It is said, that King Rahuguna jumped off his palanquin, fell at Bharata's feet, exclaiming in wonder, "Blessed am I! For I have found one who can guide me across the sea of samsara." So indeed it was! For, by perceiving the illusory nature of life, by refusing to be drawn into its eddies, Bharata had finally gained salvation. For lesser mortals like us, Krishna had this resounding advice, "Verily is it difficult for mortals to cross the ocean of illusion. Therefore, take refuge in me. I alone can help you across." * And if this is not enough, he once again comforts us, "Abandon all religions, surrender unto me, and surely will I liberate you. Grieve

not."* With such reassurances offered, such hope held out, why should any man delay in submitting to the Lord?

• The Bhagavad Gita, Chapter 7, Verse 14 * The Bhagavad Gita, Chapter 18, Verse 66

Verse 22

Original रथ्याचर्पटविरचितकन्थ : पुण्यापुण्यविवर्जितपन्थ :। योगी योगनियोजितचित्तो रमते बालोन्मत्तवदेव ।।२२।।

Rathya charpata virachita kanthaha Punya apunya vivarjita panthaha Yogi yoga niyojita chitto Ramate baalonmattava deva

Translation

He, for whom a cast off shawl, will suffice, Who treads a path that rises above both virtue and vice Whose mind is wedded to its goal, in a unity that is yogic, He revels in life, sometimes a child, sometimes a lunatic!

The Essence In this stanza, Sankara gives us a deep insight into the nature of the realized soul. The sage is one who seems not to be aware of his body at all. In fact, Ramana Maharishi often addressed his body in the third person, as 'That thing,' as if it were an inanimate object of no consequence. The saints of India, dressed in rags, sometimes in a loincloth, and sometimes not even that, often with nothing to call their own, appear no more than beggars. Yet even to give them a name is to do them injustice. For, their actions cannot be defined as either good or bad, as they transcend every attempt to define them. After all, every definition is part of the ego, and the saint is one who is completely devoid of ego. He is merely an instrument for the Supreme Spirit to operate through. No wonder, in all he does and in all he thinks, he is constantly attuned to the One in yogic concentration, distanced from reality, detached from the world.

And yet, this detachment is neither one of stoic sorrow or of bleak cynicism. On the contrary, it is a state of unending bliss, complete contentment, absolute abandon. Indeed, such joy does the saint exhibit that the world looks on in awe and incomprehension, convinced that he is either a child or a madman. Such was the state of the Alwars of South India, such too the state of the Varkharis of Maharashtra. Every incident from their lives encapsulates what Sankara states. Once, one of the Varkhari saints, Sant Namdev had been at the temple, all morning, singing and dancing in uncontrollable joy. At noon, for lunch, the temple priests offered him a roti with vegetables. Namdev, suddenly realized that he was indeed hungry. As he sat down on the temple floor to eat, a dog, apparently starving, came to him, snatched the roti and fled. The temple priest watched, expecting Namdev to fly into a temper. Instead, what Namdev did was quite the contrary. Picking up the container of vegetables, he chased the dog, calling out, "Hey Krishna! Hay Nandalal! Please do not eat the roti dry! Here, have it with the vegetables!" All those who looked on, were convinced that Namdev was indeed completely out of his wits. Which is how each one of the sages appeared! Whether it was Bhanudas who saw God's temple everywhere, even when he was in prison, or Mirabai who danced in ecstasy on the streets forgetting that she was a princess, whether it was Ramakrishna Paramahamsa who swooned at the beauty of birds in flight or Ramana Maharishi who refused to speak for years on end, each one of the saints and seers, down the ages, have behaved in ways that were beyond understanding. Their faith and their innocence were certainly child-like. Yet, their immersion in God consciousness, their unbridled revelry in his kirtans, their consummate contentment with poverty, all seemed to the normal mind both irrational and illogical. That is why Sankara exhorts us to recognize and revere them. But never to make an attempt to understand them. For surely they lived beyond the human ken.

Verse 23

Original कस्त्वं कोऽहं कुत आयात : का मे जननी को मे तात :। इति परिभावय सर्वमसारं विश्वं त्यक्त्वा स्वप्नविचारम् ।।२३।।

Kastvam ko'ham kuta aayaataha Kaa me jananee ko me taataha Iti paribhaavaya sarvamasaaram Vishvam tyaktvaa svapnavichaaram

Translation

Who are you? Who am I? From where did I come hither? Who is my mother? Who my father? These enquiries reveal that all is without essence All experiences a dream, without any substance!

The Essence After these questions were first posed in Verse 8, Sankara reverts to them. But with a difference. After all, in the intervening stanzas, he has already started us on a journey of self-enquiry. Now, these questions, take on a different hue, a very different meaning! For, while earlier, Sankara asks man to question his identity as part of a family, here, he digs deeper into the self itself. He reveals that to the realized soul, who has extinguished the ego, there is no definition of self. There is no identity that he can cling to; no name he can call his own. Even when alive and seemingly about his duties, when his ego dies, his material existence in the world comes to an end. And then, he becomes one with all that lives and breathes. He is the bird on wing, the bee that hums, the bud that blooms, the child that smiles. He is also the man who grieves, the body that ages, the soul that sorrows. He is a part of all the throbbing, pulsating life around him. Without barriers. Without boundaries. And he is therefore all things to everyone - the very manifestation of the Divine.

But in so being, he wishes to tell us, that all of us on this earth, share with him this Divine ancestry. The difference being that we have merely forgotten it for a while. Thus, by manifesting that Spirit, the seer, in the real sense, is actually showing us our true identity. The sage of Bengal, Ramakrishna Paramahamsa was the very embodiment of such a realized soul. It is said that when he was a young lad, his older brother, took him from his village at Kamarpukar to the city of Calcutta. There, at the Kali temple in Dakshineshwar, Ramakrishna became a priest. But such was his frenzy at prayer, such his yearning to see the Mother, that his family was convinced that he was slowly turning insane. They decided that the solution to the problem was marriage. So, they found a bride for him in Sarada Devi. On the night when Sarada Devi came to live with him in Dakshineshwar, Ramakrishna, called her to him. Then, seating her on a wooden platform, and anointing her with kumkum and sandal wood paste, he worshipped her with song and dance. People were convinced that this was another manifestation of his madness. But when questioned, Ramakrishna immediately replied, "Don't you understand? In my wife, I see only the Divine Mother. That is why I worship her." For Ramakrishna, as for all who were realized souls, there were no relationships that were material. They saw only one Mother in all beings, one Father in all people. They saw the One God everywhere. For them, as for Sankara, the question of "Who am I?" was easily resolved. They were the embodiment of the One. They were not someone's son or somebody's husband. They recognized no such relationship. For them, the minute they had given up their ego, their identity had been dissolved. That is why, Mirabai refused to be the Rana's wife, and the Buddha did not see himself as the king of an empire. That is why Ramana refused to acknowledge that he needed to return home and Swami Chinmayananda dissolved his identity in the Himalayas. In the real sense, these people walked in the awareness that all this world was nothing but a dream. They lived in the realization that all things on earth were the Lord's lila or divine play. They knew that there was only one tie that could never be dissolved - the tie with the Divine.

Verse 24

Original त्वयि मयि चान्यत्रैको विष्णु व्यर्थं कुप्यसि मय्यसहिष्णु ः। भव समचित्त : सर्वत्र त्वं वाञ्छस्यचिराद्यदि विष्णुत्वम् ।।२४।।

Tvayi mayi chaanya traiko Vishnu Vyartham kupyasi mayyashishnuhu Bhava samachittaha sarvatra tvam Vaanchasya chirad yadi Vishnutvam

Translation

In you, in me and everywhere, there is only One Reality, Hence your anger and impatience is unnecessary, Maintain an equal temper, in all circumstances, If you wish to realize Supreme Consciousness.

The Essence Through the preceding verses of Bhaja Govindam, Sankara has indeed been taking us on a journey. After first exposing us to the instability of the world outside, and the impermanence of human relationships, he leads us on a path to God. "Do you search for Him in rituals?" he asks us. "Yes!" we say. "He is not to be found there!" exclaims Sankara. "Then can we find him in prayer?" we ask. "When you pray, do you address a God external to yourself?" asks Sankara. "Yes," we reply. "Then, He is not to be found there, either," says Sankara. "Can we at least find Him in meditation?" you wistfully ask. "Are you a devotee seeking the Lord who is Eternal?" Sankara questions. "Of course!" we reply. "Then you can certainly not hope to find Him!" declares Sankara. Getting a little impatient, we may ask, "Is God to be found at all?" And then Sankara gently explains to us, "When you realize that the Lord and you are not two, that the Lord and you are one, when you see that One within, and when that One is seen in everyone, why, then you will find God. In calm, in quiet, in the secret places of the

soul ... " When Krishna frolicked with the gopis of Vrindavan, it is said, that Radha his favourite companion, was often upset. She was angry when he played with others and ignored her; she was annoyed when he disappeared for long hours with his friends and cows. She felt hurt when he refused to dance with her, playing the flute instead and she cried when he offered her no gifts. Soon, Krishna gave her the devastating news that he would have to leave Vrindavan forever on his journey to Mathura, The gopis were heart broken. It seemed that, once Krishna left, the cows did not moo any more, the birds did not coo as before, the trees did not whisper in the wind, and the streets were strangely silent. And then it struck them that Radha must grieve most of all. For wasn't she closest to him? But, at her home, they found her cheerful and glad, humming to herself as she went about her chores. And they told Yashoda, "Surely Radha has gone mad with grief. We heard her laughing. It must be because she has lost her mind." Listlessly, Yashoda visited Radha."My dear, are you unhappy, like the rest of Vrindavan?" she asked. Radha, who had been busy about the house, stopped. "Upset? Whatever for?" she asked. "Why, my dear, the least thing that Krishna did used to cause you agony!" Radha smiled. "The minute I stopped feeling upset, I understood something ... " Then pointing to the cow, she asked, "Ma, what do you see?" "A cow, obviously!" said Yashoda. "That's not what I see!" replied Radha. "I see Krishna!"Then looking at the gardens outside, she added, "Over there, where you see flowers, I see Krishna, where you see the river, there too I see Krishna ... " and turning to look straight at Yashoda, she said, "Where you are, ma, there too I see only Krishna." And then, strangely musing, she said, "You know, at night, as I go to bed, all by myself, then I see him best of all, right here, in my heart. He is the blood in my veins. The beat of my heart, the air I breathe. I no longer know ma, where Radha ends and where Krishna begins ... sO why should I grieve?" Far away, in Dwarka, where Krishna after many battles and many more adventures, met Narada, he was asked, "Do you not miss your Radha of Vrindavan?" Krishna smiled, "How can I seperate Radha from me? If I am the eye, Radha is my sight, if I am the heart, she is my feeling, if I am the body, she is my soul ... how then can I miss her?" And thus it always was, and thus it always will be. If only we could be Radha to the Lord's Krishna ... then we could find Him where He has always resided, in our heart's core. And then, between Him and us what difference can there be? For, Sankara declares, that to the one who understands there is no reason to go on a pilgrimage, there is no need to feel frustrated or anguished in the search for Him. "Stop

searching," Sankara says, "then you will find Him where He always was - as part of who you always are."

Verse 25

Original शत्रौ मित्रे पुत्रे बन्धौ मा कुरु यत्नं विग्रहसन्धौ। सर्वस्मिन्नपि पश्यात्मानं सर्वत्रोत्सृज भेदाज्ञानम् ।।२५।।

Shatrau mitre putre bandhau Ma kuru yatnam vigrahasandhau Sarvasminnapi pashyaatmaanam Sarvatrot srija bheda gyaanam

Translation

Against an enemy, friend, son or a relation, Neither strive to foster bonds nor to shun them, In everything, everywhere, perceive the Self's existence, In all things cease to see differences, born of ignorance.

The Essence Bhaja Govindam can be seen as a compendium of advice on living a spiritually realized life. On the one hand, Adi Sankara looks outside and helps us to comprehend the transitory nature of all things in the world, and on the other, he looks within and asks us to establish our internal equilibrium. By realizing that the world is illusory and transient, we know that we should not take it seriously. But that is only half the battle won. The other half lies in our attitudes and our perceptions. We believe that we will be benefitted, if we can enhance existing relationships and terminate troubled ones. Sankara explains that both are unnecessary. To forge or forgo bonds only means to keep getting entangled in the web of human emotions. Sankara further illustrates this idea. He says that by naming individuals as friends, enemies, sons or relatives, we are only creating prisons for them. For the very relationship entails certain emotions. For instance, we believe we must be kind to friends, nasty to enemies, tolerant of relatives and possessive of children. "Not true," says

Sankara. "Break out of this mould," he exhorts us, "be of equal temper in your relationship with every individual. Then you will see the one God animating all beings." It is only then that all differences will be dissolved. It is only then that a universal amity will reign. It is only in this atmosphere that God can be perceived and realized. The Shiv Purana has a story to tell us, that embraces this concept in totality. Little Ganesha, newly returned from his stay at his teacher's ashram, wished to show his playmates his might. After all, he had subdued the terrible Mooshika, the mouse at his teacher's abode, winning the gratitude of all! So, as he walked along the road, longing to impress his friends, he called out, "Is there anyone who wishes to challenge me?" A boy, smarter than the rest said, "Sure, Ganesha. We will believe you are strong only if you prove it to us." "How?" asked Ganesha. The boys looked around. On a wall, they suddenly saw a cat walking along, without a care in the world. "Pick it off the wall!" said one. "Toss it around," said another. "Pull its tail!" said a third. Soon, in a bid to capture attention, Ganesha was twirling, flailing, punching and generally tormenting the little creature. The children were impressed. But all this exercise had made Ganesha hungry. And the cat no longer seemed interesting. So dropping it down, he ran home hoping to down a huge repast. But when his mother opened the door, he was in for a shock! He saw her face bleeding, her hair disheveled, tears running down her face. "Ma, who did this to you?" said Ganesha. "I will beat them, I will!" "Will you my son?" asked Parvati. "Then let me tell you, it is you who did this to me!" "But how?" asked a shocked Ganesha. "My boy, when you hurt and troubled the cat, you did not wound the cat. You wounded me! For, don't you see, I am mother not only to you I am mother to the whole universe? And anything you do to the least of my creatures, you do to me?" It was a defining thought. One we too need to hold on to. For, as long as we see others as outside ourselves, we can afford to hate, to hurt, to annoy and be upset. But, if we see with the sight of love, then, who else is another but a part of us? And who else are we but God? So everything, no matter how apparently imperfect, no matter how seemingly ugly, is only an expression of the Divine. And in this acceptance, we can no longer feel anger or hatred. For, all things are one, all things are one's own. All is Love. It never was anything else. We had only lost our vision for a while ...

Verse 26

Original कामं क्रोधं लोभं मोहं त्यक्त्वाऽऽत्मानं पश्यति सोऽहम्। आत्मज्ञान विहीना मूढा ते पच्यन्ते नरकनिगूढा: ।२६।।

Kaamam krodham lobham moham Tyatvat aatmaanam pashyati so'ham Aatmagyaan viheena mudhha Te Pashyante naraka nigudhhaha

Translation

Having let lust, anger, greed and delusion, die, The Self finally knows, "He am I," But the fool, ignorant of this knowledge of self Suffers endless torture, like a captive in hell.

The Essence The human condition, Sankara would aver, is fraught with limitations, beset with vices. Chief amongst them is lust. So powerful is its hold, so potent in its ability to do mischief, that it has had even the best of sages in thrall. That is why when lust is thwarted, it lets loose uncontrollable fury and raging anger. However, if fed, it is equally disastrous, turning instantly to greed, demanding more sensations, insisting on a greater variety of experiences. Finally, all three, lust, anger and greed, lead in one direction alone - delusion. Caught in its trap, man is tossed between sorrow and confusion, flung between pain and disappointments, driven from grief to grievance, until his very life is a living hell. "Yet, pause," says Sankara, "learn that none of this is necessary; not one of this is inevitable." For the moment you know that you are God Incarnate, you can instantly revel in the bliss of godhead. That is your inheritance; that is your destination. The Ramayana is full of such evidences. Ravana, the king of Sri

Lanka, renowned in all the three worlds for his scholarship and artistry, came tumbling down from the very pinnacle of nobility. Deluded into the belief that he could indeed marry the embodiment of chastity, Sita, he changed shape, form and size, travelled over land and ocean, waged an entirely unnecessary war, lost his kingdom, his family and finally his own head in pursuit of a completely catastrophic illusion. What drove this great and mighty king to his disastrous end? What else but lust and greed? Yet, even for Ravana, there were times when the curtain of illusion parted and the king was able to see the truth for what it was. One day, the story goes, Mandodari, Ravana's wife, could bear his grief no more. "Lord, how long will you continue to plead with Sita? Don't you realize how much pain it has already caused you?" Ravana looked at her with blank, unseeing eyes. Finally in desperation Mandodari suggested, "Lord, assume the form of Rama. Then Sita will yield to you. She will have to yield to you." In a flash Ravana was up. It was as if, for just a moment, the veil of unreality was ripped asunder. He said, "Foolish woman! Don't you understand, that merely assuming the form of Rama will completely prevent the entry of a single impure thought into my mind? Just adopting his disguise will mean partaking of his virtue ... how then can I attain Sita?" He could not; he did not. But he would never have made that attempt had not lust, greed, anger and delusion whipped him into becoming a victim. The Mahabharata too is replete with such examples. It is said, that when Duryodhana visited the Pandavas in Indraprastha, he was invited into the House of Illusions. Assuming that he was stepping on land, he slipped and fell into a pool of water. Draupadi, the Pandava queen, laughed aloud, commenting, "The blind son of a blind father!" It is believed that it was that remark that turned Duryodhana's mind to revenge. But, in reality, Duryodhana was goaded by his own internal demons - his lust for Draupadi, his greed for his cousin's kingdoms, his anger against their obvious superiority and the consequent delusion about his invincibility. In all his actions, even till his doom, he displayed a continuous inability to see reality, for, in truth, he was blind. That is what these vices will do. They will create for us, a fool's paradise and no sooner are we settled in, they will bring the whole edifice down, verily like a pack of cards. And this will continue to be our fate, till the Self is located, till the Self is found, till, finally, we are centred securely in it.

Verse 27

Original गेयं गीतानामसहस्त्रं ध्येयं श्रीपतिरूपमजस्त्रम्। नेयं सज्जनसङ्गे चित्तं देयं दीनजनाय च वित्तम् ।२७।

Geyam Gita, naama sahasram Dhyeyam Shree pati roopam ajastram Neyam sajjana sange chittam Deyam deena janaaya cha vittam

Translation

Chant the Gita and the Sahasranama continually, Meditate on the form of the Lord of Lakshmi, Lead the mind towards the company of the holy, Share your wealth with those who are needy.

The Essence In succinct lines, Sankara enumerates the path to enlightenment, through four time-tested methods, insisting that we attune ourselves to the Lord physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. This is his formula for external spiritual discipline. "Look out" Sankara seems to say, "for opportunities to give, whether in terms of money, goods, knowledge or love. For in giving of yourself alone, you grow." That is our physical responsibility, the sowing of right action. But we need also to mentally tune ourselves to the wavelength of the Lord. For that we need to look up to, to associate with and to be in the company of the good and the holy. Only then will our mind sow right thoughts. But our hearts too need to be touched - through a feeling of bhakti, of deep and passionate devotion, of a love that knows no limits, of a longing that never ends. So, Sankara says, "meditate on the Lord's form. Has there ever been anything more beautiful?" And when body, mind and heart vibrate to the glory of the Lord, then from within man will spontaneously arise the chant of the scriptures. If such is man's occupation and preoccupation, if such is his

life and living, then realization will be won. This is Sankara's guarantee. This is Sankara's promise. Right thought, right feeling, right action ... there are many stories that illustrate this. A great Sufi saint, it was said, used to awaken early and go to the shrine nearby to meditate on the name of the Lord. In a neighbouring building lived a cantankerous old woman who took great pleasure in annoying everyone. It was her habit to awaken early every morning, and douse the saint's head with a bucket of water, as she stood on her terrace. The saint would only look up and say, "Blessed be the name of the Lord." One day, as he walked past her home, the customary drenching did not happen. Instead of welcoming this respite, the saint sensed trouble. He immediately rushed up. He saw the woman in bed, in great pain, with no help in sight. Without hesitation he brought home a doctor to take care of her. When the woman recovered, she asked him, why he had come to help her. He replied, "I only returned your love. For, had it not been for your daily ablutions, I would not have been sufficiently awake to really concentrate on the Lord." But scriptures do not always enter the soul. Once, the story goes, a Zen master took his pupils on a holy journey with him. His young son, who had learnt a great deal from the master, wished to accompany them and the master consented. The first morning, the master was awake, long before dawn. He set out his prayer mat and sat down to meditation. Immediately, his son followed suit. All the other pupils were still quite fast asleep. The son gave a scornful look at them and complained, "I do not know, father why you get such recalcitrant students with you. Not one of them cares for his soul. Look how slothfully they lie!" The master opened just one eye and softly remarked, "I would rather that you too were asleep than that you awaken only to utter such blasphemous thoughts." For action is right only when love inspires it. Thought is right only when love fuels it. And emotions are right, only when love inhabits it. Without that compassion, that consideration, that concern, nothing we think, feel, do or say can ever really be right!

Verse 28

Original सुखत : क्रियते रामाभोग : पश्चाद्धन्त शरीरे रोग:। यद्यपि लोके मरणं शरणं तदपि न मुज्रति पापाचरणम् ।।२८।।

Sukhataha kriyate raamaabhogaha Passchaadh anta shareere rogaha Yadyapi loke maranam sharanam Tadapi na munchati paapaacharanam

Translation

One indulges in carnal relations for the pleasure of the senses, Alas! Later on one is subject to bodily diseases. Although ultimately, death ends all things in the world here Still, man refuses to give up his sinful behaviour.

The Essence We now come to the concluding four verses of Bhaja Govindam. Here, Sankara, brings to a finale, his comments on man and his relationship with this transient world of material manifestations. As a seer, as a prophet and as a philosopher, Sankara's advice to fallible man is to beware of two of his greatest shortcomings - lust and wealth. The first of them is enumerated here. It is a limitation that Sankara had first spoken about in Verse 3, where he called beauty mere flesh and fat. Sankara now comes back to this theme with renewed vigour. He avers that lust leads to decay; that it is sin masquerading as desire; it is pleasure, which only opens the floodgates of pain. It is so captivating, so mesmerizing that man is instantly trapped in its fleeting shadows and is then perpetually lost. One would need the steadfastness of a yogi, the strength of a thyagi, and the serenity of a sanyasi to overcome its incessant assault. Understanding how easy it is to slip into the thrill of sensuous satisfaction, Sankara issues this stentorian warning. The noose of lust that tightens around every throat, was experienced, most vividly by King Bhartrihari of Ujjain, who ruled

sometime in the first or second century of the Christian Era. While Bhartrihari was a wise and considerate king, both powerful and pious, he had fallen a prey to Cupid's barbed arrow. Although advanced in age, he was besotted with the charms of a beautiful young woman. He soon married her, and her every wish was his command. Now, it so happened that a yogi in his kingdom had, through strict spiritual practice, earned the reward of a fruit. The one who ate the fruit would not only attain immortality, he would, in fact, be young forever. The yogi thought awhile about who deserved to eat this most precious of all fruits and concluded rightly that a king of the temperament of Bhartrihari alone was the right candidate. With due ceremony he presented the fruit to the king. Now, the king, though flattered, had a different opinion. So taken in was he by his queen, that he felt she alone should have it. Unknown to the king, however, his queen had found love in the arms of her guard. When she was presented the fruit, she affectionately handed it over to him. He, in turn, had been smitten by the court dancer and surreptitiously gifted the fruit to her. The courtesan, who had received many favours in the palace, reflected awhile and took the fruit straight to the king. Imagine the shock of the king when the fruit he had so lovingly given to his wife, found its way back to him! As the truth of the matter unfolded before him, the veil fell once and for all from his eyes. He saw the entire charade for what it was - a cheap exhibition of lust and desire. And, in that instant of realization, the king was cured. He left kingdom, home and family forever, to wander in the forests as a sanyasi. It was during this period that he wrote his poem, Vairagya Shataka, a hundred stanzas on the joys of renunciation and asceticism. The life of King Bhartrihari is proof enough of what Sankara has in mind - the ephemeral nature of lust, its tantalizing presence, its wild dance of desire, and yet, its dissipation in the presence of clarity of thought, and its inevitable annihilation at the hands of the man of wisdom. Sankara's warning is, "Be that man of wisdom. Understand lust as only one of illusion's lieutenants. Destroy it for, if you offer it even the slightest leeway, it will surely destroy you ... "

Verse 29

Original अर्थमनर्थं भावय नित्यं नास्ति तत : सुखलेश : सत्यम्। पुत्रादपि धनभाजां भीति : सर्वत्रैषा विहिता रीति: ।।२९।

Arthamanartham bhaavaya nityam Naasti tataha sukhaleshaha satyam Putradapi dhanabhajaam bheetihi Sarva traishaa vihitaa reetihi

Translation

"Wealth brings ruin," should be your constant reflection, Truly, from it there can be no real satisfaction, To the rich, there is fear even from one's son, This is the way with wealth, everywhere, for everyone.

The Essence Sankara zeroes in on man's second defect - greed, especially for money. Desire for money, he states, is a disease. For, the more one has, the more one wishes to have. Indeed, with age, with time, greed grows in proportion and magnitude, until it becomes a veritable monster riding on man. Everything associated with it is tainted, for if man does not have money, he is envious of those who do, if he has, he is desirous of having more. Once he attains wealth, even then, happiness is not to be found. For, if he spends it, there is the very real danger of its diminishing. Yet if he hoards it there is the other danger of it being stolen. Finally, if wealth is lost, man feels bereft, vulnerable, exposed. Wealth destroys relationships, causes misunderstandings, annihilates peace of mind. In every sense then, wealth is the source of all suffering. Probably, that is why saints like Ramakrishna Paramahamsa, refused to even touch a coin. "But money," says Sankara, "is only an instrument. It is neither good nor bad. It is the one who obtains it, who can use it to a positive or negative end."

This story was told by Sage Ramakrishna. A barber at a king's court, was happy and hardworking. One day, as he walked through the jungles near his home, he heard a voice, "Don't you wish to improve your lot in life?" "Sure I do!" replied the surprised barber. "Then go home!" said the voice, which was that of a yaksha. "Riches await you." The barber rushed home. True to the statement, he noticed seven jars at his door. With trembling hands and a racing heart, he opened each one. The first six were filled to the brim, with gleaming, glowing gold coins. The seventh however, was only half full. "Why?" thought the barber, "Why is the jar half empty?" Within him rose a strong desire to see it full. "Only then will my happiness be really, truly complete," he thought. Initially, he converted his ornaments into gold coins. Then he sold his vessels, his clothes, even his house, so that he could have enough to fill the jar. But, strangely, no matter how much he gathered, the jar just would not get full. Its cavernous mouth gaped greedily at him, its hunger completely insatiable. The barber started eating only one meal a day to fill the jar. It was still not enough. Then he pleaded with the king to increase his salary, still to no avail. Then, he borrowed money, and was soon heavily in debt. But, no matter what he did, no matter how much he scrimped and saved, the jar stubbornly continued to remain half empty. Only the barber grew increasingly more miserable, more restless and more depressed. Finally the king called for him, "When you had half your present salary, you could be seen with a song on your lips. Today, look at you! Your clothes are ragged, your face unwashed, your body a mere skeleton. A beggar would look better!" The barber's careworn eyes looked shiftily about. The king cast a keen glance at him and asked, "Tell me the truth. Have you been possessed by the seven jars?" The barber's mouth fell open. "How did the king know of them? He had hidden them in the thickest part of the forests." The king laughed. "Ah! I should have guessed. I too was offered the jars. But the minute I decided to gift them away, they disappeared. Give the jars back, I order you, or you will be devoured." The barber had no choice but to heed the advice, albeit reluctantly. Of course, he lost all his hard earned money, along with the gift. Yet, strangely, unexpectedly, that was the way, he finally reclaimed his happiness. For wealth is a demon. If not controlled it can destroy man. And yet, it is a benefactor as well. But only if it is circulated and not stored, only if it is a means and not an end, only if it is a route and not

the destination. For while Lakshmi is the benign giver of mercy, she is mercurial and temperamental as well. And always she needs to have her wayward nature held in check, by Vishnu, the just and fair ruler of the world. Then, in the right hands, used in the right manner, she can verily be a blessing who can transform and uplift mankind.

Verse 30

Original प्राणायामं प्रत्याहारं नित्यनित्यविवेकविचारम्। जाप्येसमेत समाधिविधानं कुर्ववधानं महदवधानम् ।।३०।।

Pranaayaamam pratyaahaaram Nitya anitya viveka vichaaram Jaapyesameta samadhi vidhaanam Kurvavadhaanam mahadavadhaanam

Translation

The control of activities, the withdrawal from the sensual, The ability to discriminate between the eternal and the ephemeral, The practice of chanting to reach a silent stillness Perform these with caution, with great carefulness.

The Essence Sankara, the teacher, in this stanza, takes over from Sankara, the philosopher. Earlier in the previous stanzas of Bhaja Govindam, Sankara had revealed the five-fold path to ritual outer purification - (i) studying The Bhagavad Gita, (ii) worshipping the Lord through prayer, (iii) keeping the company of the pure and devout, (iv) eliminating distractions of the world and (v) giving selflessly of oneself through charity. Now, Sankara unfolds the five-fold path to inner purification, 'antaranga sadhana.' This would comprise (i) the control of all activities performed by the individual, (ii) the withdrawal from the temptations of the senses, (iii) the constant wakefulness that discriminates between the permanent and the temporary, (iv) the continuous chanting of the holy name and (v) the consequent attainment of inner stillness and silence. The word pranayamam, which has come to mean breath control, is, in reality, the flow of life's energy. Breathing is a barometer of the

mind. Shallow and rapid, it indicates a mind in turbulence; even and balanced, it is a sign of serenity. So a body whose breathing is controlled is one that is in equipoise. Such a body alone is established in pratyahara, or withdrawal of the senses. It is a state Lord Krishna speaks of, when he advises Arjuna, "Even as a tortoise draws in its limbs, the wise can draw in their senses at will."* It is a state when one is completely unaffected by the world's vagaries and vicissitudes, by both its shrill temptations as well as its subtle suggestions. Once the mind is reined in, it immediately learns to sift the temporary from the transcendental, the trivial from the crucial. Such a mind alone is capable of leading one to the spirit. But the mind still needs assistance, the guidance that only the chanting of the holy name can provide. When this chant develops into the steady background note to all of life's activities, it then becomes a shield, a protective armour against every negative impulse, until a slow meditative mood seeps in, marking the inward looking eye. When this transforms into one's innate nature, a profound consciousness wraps the soul and then, miraculously, one can rest in silent stillness amidst the turmoil, the clamour and the bedlam that life often is. In that silence, alone can the Self be found, lustrous and luminous, effulgent like truth itself. But while the disciple may, with excessive zeal, want to plunge into the path, shown by the master, Sankara cautions, "Understand the soul, with care, with caution." For, it is only when patience and determination go hand in hand that realization will be achieved. Gradually, like the bourgeoning of a seed, like the blossoming of a flower - in God's good time. Swami Sivananda told this story. Of a kingdom where, at the death of the king, the royal elephant was sent to pick the next ruler. The elephant would pull up an individual and place him on its back. And when it returned to the palace, the individual it had chosen was anointed without a second thought. On this occasion, the elephant went deep into the forest and picked up a saint. It brought him back. But the sage, far from being happy, was altogether reluctant to sit on the throne. Yet, after much persuasion he was made to occupy the seat, on the condition that he would never be contradicted. And that was truly a tough job. For, here was a king who was so centred within, that he cared little for the outer world. Neither greed nor envy troubled him. Neither pride nor power touched him. So the courtiers could neither move nor manipulate him. Yet, in spite of his indifference, the country prospered. Soon, the neighbouring monarch, heard about the kingdom, and decided to invade it. Despite the continuous pleading of his ministers,

the sage could not be forced into gathering his army for a battle. Indeed, he did not even deign to reply to his ministers' requests for days. Finally he cryptically stated, "I do not believe in war." The neighbouring king, meanwhile, was soon at his borders. But seeing no army, the king, goaded by curiosity, came to meet the sage. "I want to fight a battle with you," he said. The saint, who was in meditation, after a while, opened an eye and asked, just one question, "Why?" "Because I want to have your kingdom." "Take it," said the saint, "it is yours." "What?" asked the startled king, "without a fight?" "Most certainly!" smiled the saint. Overwhelmed by the peaceful detachment of the answer, the king fell at the saint's feet. "I am unworthy to rule even my kingdom. Take that as well," he said. And so the sage, who would not have a single kingdom, now became the ruler of two. That, Sankara would admit wryly, is the work of the enlightened soul. By never wavering from its still centre, by firmly holding on to its core principle, the soul, in silent splendour, conquers this world and the world beyond. For it needs nothing. It asks for nothing. It just is.

• The Bhagavad Gita, Chapter 2, Verse 58

Verse 31

Original गुरुचरणाम्बुजनिर्भरभक्त : संसारादचिराद्भव मुक्त :। सेन्द्रियमानसनियमादेवं द्रक्ष्यसि निजहृदयस्थं देवम्: ॥३१॥

Guru charanambuja nirbhara bhaktaha Samsaarad achiraad bhava muktaha Sendriya maanasa niyama devam Drakshasi nijha hridayastham devamha

Translation

When you have surrendered at the lotus feet of the master, From the chains of this world you will break asunder, Then, in complete control of your mind and your sense, Within your own heart, you will find the Lord, in residence.

The Essence In this, the concluding stanza, Sankara sums up, the very essence of his philosophy. "You are caught up in a ceaseless cycle of birth and death," he tells the struggling individual. "Yet, you can find a way out. In fact, you must find a way out." To do that Sankara insists that every man needs a guru. One to whom he can surrender - completely, unequivocally, totally. With his aid, along with his support, and under his guidance alone the individual will learn what it is to control the wavering mind, to conquer the wandering senses. And then, when after patient effort and painstaking endeavour, he reaches the plateau of stillness, he will discover the Lord he had yearned to see, in the least likely of places - in the recesses of his own heart. And he will be healed. When Ramana sat in meditation in his ashram, many devotees came with questions that the master answered in his own way, normally with the help of a story. When a devotee asked him where God could be found, Ramana told the story of the three Varkhari saints, Jnaneshwar, Gora Kumhar and Namdev. While Jnaneshwar and Gora

were completely immersed in the bliss of God love, Namdev was still given to arguments and disputations. One day, he chided the others. "Neither of you comes to the temple regularly. Have you lost faith in Vitthala?" Gora and Jnaneshwar smiled. Instead of answering him, they changed the subject. "Namdev," said Gora, "there is a pooja I have organized in my house tomorrow. Will you attend it?" "Certainly!" said Namdev. The next day, after the ceremonies, Jnaneshwar told Gora, "Since you are a potter, can you make out which of the pots lying before you is sound?" Gora immediately took up a stick and started tapping the heads of all those assembled there. And then he pronounced the verdict, "You see, the pot there?" he said, indicating Namdev's head, "that is not sound at all!" Namdev stood up, anger writ large on his face. He walked out and went straight to the temple of Vitthala and cried aloud, "Did you hear how I was humiliated? I will never talk to them again." Suddenly he heard a voice in the silence of the temple. "You wish to be enlightened, don't you? Then make your way to the temple in the forest. There you will find a saint who will be your guru." The next day, Namdev reached the abandoned temple. What he saw shocked him. For lying with his feet on the Shivling, that was the temple's central object of worship, was an old man. "Shiva, Shiva, what a sin!" immediately thought Namdev. He rudely woke the man up. "Sir, how dare you sleep with your feet on the idol of the Lord?" The old man opened his eyes and said, "I cannot shift my legs. Why don't you?" And that's what Namdev did. But wherever he shifted the legs, there a Shivling would spring up. Until, tired of the exercise, Namdev finally placed the legs on his lap. And then, as he watched, in surprise, he actually became a Shivling himself! Enlightenment struck him. With tears, he fell at the old man's feet. "Now I know! I know!" he cried. "What a fool I have been! Searching for Vittala in temples, in rituals, in songs, when I am Vittala, Vittala is me!" Ramana told another story as well. The Puranas spoke of an old rishi, Sage Ribhu and his disciple, Nidagha. Now, while Nidagha was an able pupil, completely devoted to the master, he could not quite grasp the basic premise of advaita - the unity between God and man. And so he pursued a variety of paths - he would dabble in the occult, would immerse himself in rituals and would follow every new line of thought that was expressed, ultimately, of course, being only more confused than before. And so, Ribhu decided to teach him a lesson. One day, disguised as an illiterate rustic, he went to Nidagha's home. Nidagha was just leaving to watch a procession of the king and his retinue. Ribhu quietly followed him.

When the king on his elephant was sighted, he went up to Nidagha and said, "Sir, I see two creatures in front of me. Who are they?" Nidagha smiled pityingly. "You are truly ignorant," he said. Then he pointed to the two and said, "The one sitting above is the king, the creature carrying him, below, is the elephant." Ribhu scratched his head. "I understand what you said about the king and the elephant. But what you said about 'above' and 'below' that I could not understand." "Above, below?" Nidagha asked amazed, "Are you so foolish? Then let me show you," he said. Jumping on Ribhu's back he said, "Now I am above you, you are below me, understand?" Saying that he jumped off. Ribhu still looked confused. Slowly he said, "King, elephant, above, below - so far it is clear. But, pray, tell me, what you mean by 'I' and 'you'?" Nidagha was about to explain, when with a flash, he realized that no-one else could have asked this question but his master. More importantly, as he pondered the question, he realized that he really could not distinguish the 'I' from the 'you.' Light dawned on his mind. He fell at his master's feet, saying, "Master, I crave your blessings. Who else but you could have lifted my mind from the superficial distractions of existence to the universal presence of the One?" And that is the chief lesson Sankara wishes to give us. Through the entire journey of Bhaja Govindam, Sankara's thrust is just one - Know the Self. It is the One that animates all of creation, it is the Being that suffuses all life, it is the Spirit that sustains, the Soul that saves. It knits all of us in one seamless whole. It is. Therefore we are. Indeed, it is us. That is all we need to know. That is all there is to know.

The Relevance of Bhaja Govindam, Today

A SAINT OF BYGONE TIMES (probably the eighth century), writing in chaste Sanskrit (which, by itself, can be intimidating), on philosophical concerns that are far removed from modern times, in rhymed verses that are so different from contemporary parlance ... why should anyone find any of this at all relevant? After all, what can Bhaja Govindam, an outpouring of thirty-one verses, clearly expressing the philosophy of advaita, by a boy renunciate, have to do with modern man? In reality, nothing around us has remained quite the same, neither man's concerns, nor his outlook, and least of all, his manner of living! So, is the excavation of these verses one more attempt at a futile attachment to a past that has neither meaning nor message for us today? Or is there something in it even for modern man? For, amazing as it may sound, somewhere, hidden in the texts of another era and age, concealed in the thoughts of a hoary civilization, are secrets that are as relevant today as when they were first expressed. In fact, even more so than when they initially found utterance. And it is in unravelling these secrets that the real strength of Bhaja Govindam lies. For, what is it that the verses of Bhaja Govindam warn us against? Most importantly, against the tyranny of the materialistic world. Today, that tyranny is complete, aided as it is by its attendant bully, advertising. With the assault of technology on man's senses, desires are no longer inborn, they are actually created. Worse still, they are never satiated, each fulfillment beginning a new cycle of wants. Caught up in this ever-expanding current, man is tossed from need to need, by jealousy and greed. With one eye on the market and the other on his pocket, he is forever chasing a chimera that he can never hope to capture. It is a sorry state, where he gradually deteriorates from master to victim, getting increasingly entangled in the world's enticements, until he is reduced to a state of complete haplessness. In no uncertain terms, Bhaja Govindam counsels us against this onslaught. "Know," Sankara says, "that all this is an illusion, meant merely to captivate your senses. The truth does not lie here." And so while we do engage with the world, and seek satisfaction from it, it is imperative that we do not succumb and become a slave to it, for none of its objects is lasting, none of its expressions is true. Today, as we look at the mad current of life that carries us nowhere and the

disintegration of the people who flow with it, we realize how necessary and relevant Sankara's warning is! Sankara now zeroes in on another sore temptation - the lure of the flesh. Lust has been the downfall of the so-called mighty as well as of the feeble, the principled as well as the weak-willed, monarchs as well as tramps. It comes in numerous disguises; it parades in varied forms. Its allure is strong, its attraction, powerful. After all, beauty has been the subject of man's dreams and desires for as long as man has lived on this earth; the call of the flesh being entirely instinctive. Today, more than in times past, lust has transformed itself into a frenzy of passion, unrestricted and unbridled. It is a passion that has been ignited as much by the media as by the breakdown of all morality. It has corrupted and corroded the very fabric of society, setting the rot from deep within. At such times, Sankara's wisdom, when he says "Beware of beauty and its trap, it is only a manifestation of flesh and fat," is a needed note of calm rationality. Even if we can avoid these twin pitfalls, Sankara says we still need to take care. For, along the way, we are beset with dangers, like the call of prestige and position, the affection of friends and family. We crave social acceptance; we strive for social mobility. And, so, we are manipulated by our family, we are also at the mercy of the world's opinion of us. All along the way, we are assailed by monumental doubts about our own standing. That is why, whether in our relationship with family or friends, colleagues or partners, almost all our efforts are motivated either by fear or insecurity, with the little worm of worry constantly nibbling away at our confidence. Sankara laughs at man's obsessions, observing that all the attention of family is purely momentary; all the world's adulation, merely flattery. "Do not anchor yourself to something as unstable as the opinion of people," he says, "instead find that which is permanent and hitch yourself to it with alacrity." In times like ours, where families are crumbling and relationships collapsing, where malice and hatred find home in the human heart and competition festers with corruption, where there is a premium on 'staying at the top,' no matter what price one has to pay for that slot, Sankara's words are a sombre reminder that man needs to look for his real goals. But what exactly are they? Having demolished the edifice man has so painstakingly yet foolishly created, Sankara sets out to offer solace. Through solutions that are both reasonable and relevant. First, he says, choose your path with care. For a world that believes that 'the ends really justify the means,' this emphasis on the path may come as a timely reminder that how targets are achieved are really as important as what the targets are.

But even if we are on the right path, so strong are the pulls of temptations that we are led completely adrift. Sankara comes to our assistance, providing man with four pillars that guarantee to add stability to his life and his thoughts. First, he says, look after the body, for, in truth, it is the temple of God. Excessive indulgence and complete abstinence are both extremely dangerous. What is needed, is control - control over the breath, for breath is life, control over the senses for they are temptation's gateways. In the precincts of such control alone is the body wholesome and health-filled. Only such a body can be one's ally through all life's troubles and turmoils. In a world, where gluttony gloats over one's palate and gymnasiums grind one's body down, this belief in self- control is the sensible middle path that we all have to, sooner or later, arrive at. The second step he insists, in stanza after stanza, is to seek, at all times, the company of the pure, the good and the noble. In every society, no matter how degenerate, you will find them, for they are the bulwark of all civilizations. They show us how to be straightforward in a world gone awry, to be truthful in an atmosphere of lies, to have integrity where the human soul is up for sale. Once found, these are the people one should cling to, as the very pole stars of life. Being in their midst is to absorb their vibrations, to soak in their spirit, to become like them. For, verily, God expresses himself through these beings. To sit in their midst, in what Hindus call the satsang, (the company of the truthful) is to be in the presence of the Lord Himself. The third step, Sankara exhorts, is to make still the obsessive mind. As it goes into overdrive, forever churning out irrelevant thoughts, constantly moving in senseless circles, it is necessary to draw it to a halt, to bring it to a point of silent quietude. For this, Sankara has the simplest of all ideas - the chant. "Chant, chant the name of the Lord," he says, "that will anchor all manner of thought." It is a serenity our times craves, a contemplative calmness that can give us the much needed perspective in a world gone mad with materialism. Gradually, as man achieves this tranquility of the spirit, Sankara eases him into the fourth step - an attitude of detachment. "Life is unstable," he states, "it is completely unpredictable." One could be ground into the dust at one moment, and lifted aloft to the stars at the very next, feted and glorified or criticized and reviled. Loss and gain, triumphs and adversities, happiness and sorrow, they are nothing but the warp and weft of life, both equally important, both of similar significance. To be able to see both with equal eye, to treat both with

the same demeanour, that is the secret of the realized soul. Today, man's perspective has been distorted by possessiveness and pride; his anxiety augmented by attachment and anger. Sankara's reminder to be observer rather than participant, to watch the world go by, undeterred and unaffected, knowing all things will pass, is certainly the palliative needed to repair the spirit. Finally, when all this is done, when the body is fine- tuned, the mind serene, the spirit at peace and the attitude, calm, Sankara believes man will be ready for his goal - to find and recognize the existence of God. Not as an external deity who takes pleasure in offerings made to him, not as an Almighty who can be propitiated through prayer, not as a merchant to drive hard bargains with, or a judge who will pronounce rewards and punishments on actions, but as the Divine Animator of all creation. His place is in the human heart, his abode is in each one of us. And since he is in each of us, He is in all of us, making the whole of humanity, one. It is a simple thought, but a profoundly seminal one. When we, as a people, are riven apart by supposed differences, splintered by egoistic claims, torn asunder by individual prejudices, the gently unifying principle of advaita will come as a soothing balm to our wounded soul. Then if we let the message of Bhaja Govindam, percolate into our lives, we will surely find our way home, back to our true identity, and we will discover that despite all that has changed around us, we are what Sankara always said we were - divinity in action. But if we could have asked him how to make that long trip back home, how to finally centre ourselves within, I'm sure he would have answered in just three simple words. "Follow Your Heart."

As rain seeps through an ill-thatched hut Passion will seep through an untrained mind ... There is no path in the sky, There is no refuge in the world

For those driven by their desires ...

Cut down the whole forest of selfish desires,

Not just one tree only ... Remember, this body is like a fragile clay pot. Make your mind a fortress and conquer ignorance With the weapons of wisdom ... As an irrigator guides water to his fields, As an archer aims an arrow,

As a carpenter carves wood, The wise shape their lives.

The Buddha in The Dhammapada

Bibliography

Books on Sri Sankara's Life: 1. Adi Sankara: His Life and Times: discourses by Jagadguru Sri Candrasekharendra Saraswati, translated by T.M.P. Mahadevan, (Mumbai, Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, 2000) 2. Adi Sankara, The Saviour of mankind: edited by S.G. Kulkarni (Mumbai, Shri Bhagavan Vedavyasa Itihasa Samshodhana Mandira, 1987) 3. N. Ramesam: Sri Sankaracharya: (Ponnur, Oriental Publications) 4. Sankara Digvijaya: The traditional life of Sri Sankaracharya: Madhava Vidyaranya, translated by Swami Tapasyananda (Chennai, Sri Ramakrishna Mutt, 2006) 5. Swami Chinmayananda: Sankara, the Missionary (Mumbai, Central Chinmaya Mission Trust)

Web sites accessed: 1. http://www.advaita-vedanta.org/avhp/sankara-life.html 2. http://www.kamakoti.org/miscl/adi.html 3. http://www.shankaracharya.org 4. http://www.dlshq.org/saints/sankara.htm 5. http://www.vmission.org/vedanta/darshan/sankara.htm 6. http://www.hinduweb.org/home/general_sites/kogee/adi.html 7. http://living.oneindia.in/yoga-spirituality/faith-mysticism/adi- sankara-bhagavadpada-partiii.html 8. http://members.tripod.com/vedantamission/gurus/adisank1.htm

Books on Bhaja Govindam: 1. Mahadevan, T.M.P .: The Hymns of Sankara (Delhi, Motilal Banarasidass Publishers Private Ltd, 1980) 2. Parthasarathy.A .: Bhaja Govindam (Mumbai, A. Parthasarathy, 2002) 3. Rajagopalachari C .: Bhaja Govindam (Mumbai, Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, 1971) 4. Swami Chinmayananda: Sri Sankaracharya's Bhaja Govindam (Mumbai, Central Chinmaya Mission Trust, 1965)

Web site accessed: 1. http://www.vedantavision.com/eshiksha/bhajagovindam31.html 2. http://mailerindia.com/slokas/mantras/index.php?bajagovindam 3. http://www.stephen-knapp.com/bhaja_govindam.htm

Other books on Sankara: 1. Brahma Sutra, according to Sri Sankara: translated by Swami Vireswarananda (Kolkata, Advaita Ashram, 2005) 2. Sri Samkara's Vivekachudamani: translated by P. Sankaranarayanan (Mumbai, Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, 1999) 3. Thus Spake Sri Sankara: (Chennai, Sri Ramakrishna Math) 4. Rao Sridevi: Adi Sankaracharya, The Voice of Vedanta (New Delhi, Rupa and Company, 2003)

Miscellaneous: 1. Abbot Justin and Godbole, N.R .: Stories of Indian Saints (New Dehli, Motilal Banarassidas Publishers, 1933) 2. Jacobs Alan: Ramana, Shankara and the Forty Verses: The Essential Teachings of Advaita (New Dehli, Motilal Banarassidas Publishers, 2005) 3. Jagannathan, Shakuntala: Hinduism, An Introduction (Mumbai, Vakils, Feffer and Simons Ltd., 1984) 4. Khanolkar Savitribai: Saints of Maharashtra (Mumbai, Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, 1990) 5. Knappert Jan: Indian Mythology (London, Diamond Books, 1991) 6. Menon Ramesh: Bhagavata Purana (Delhi, Rupa and Company, 2007) 7. Menon Ramesh: Krishna, Life and Song of the Blue god (Delhi, Rupa and Company, 2006) 8. Spiritual Stories as told by Ramana Maharishi: (Tiruvannamalai, Ramanashram, 1984) 9. Swami Sivananda: Inspiring Stories (Uttar Pradesh, The Divine Life Society, 1997) 10. Tales and parables of Sri Ramakrishna (Madras, Sri Ramakrishna Math, 1943)

Glossary

Acharya: Teacher. An acharya, is a prominent teacher and scholar, who teaches by his own example. It comes from the Sanskrit word, 'achara,' which means 'behaviour.' The word is used as a title of respect for the head of a philosophical institution. Adi Sankara: See Life of Adi Sankara. Advaita: Literally meaning 'not two,' it is called a monistic or non- dualistic system which essentially refers to the indivisibility of the Self, i.e. Atman from the Whole i.e. Brahman. Advaita believes that there is no distinction between the individual and the Creative Spirit, that it is only ignorance that prevents us from recognizing our spiritual identity and that once the veil is lifted all the world will be seen just as a temporary parade and the goal of all life, which is unity with the Divine, will be perceived and realized. Ahalya: The wife of Gautama Maharishi. Caught in an adulterous relationship with God Indra, she was cursed by her husband and transformed into a stone. At the touch of Lord Rama's feet, she was restored to her original shape. Her story appears in The Ramayana. Her name means 'one who has no deformity.' Ahimsa: From the original Sanskrit, literally meaning 'non-violence' or the avoidance of 'himsa' or 'violence.' It is one of the main principles to be followed in pursuit of dharma, or righteous conduct. While it is an important aspect of Hinduism and Buddhism, it is a seminal part of Jain philosophy. The concept first made its appearance in The Upanishads and is also spoken about in The Bhagavad Gita as well as Buddhist and Jain texts. Today it has gained popularity because of its advocacy by Mahatma Gandhi during India's struggle for independence. Alwars: Also alvars or azhwars, literally meaning 'those who are immersed' Here the reference is to being immersed in devotion to God. The word refers to the twelve Vaishnavite saints, from the Tamil country who lived between the seventh and the tenth century. They helped revive devotional Hinduism through their songs in worship of Lord Vishnu and his manifestations or avataras. The collection of their hymns are known as Divya Prabhandam. Antaranga sadhana:Yogic practices. In their books of yoga (spiritual discipline), the great rishis (sages) spoke of different methods of attaining spiritual progress. In this context they distinguish between Bahiranga Sadhana and Antaranga Sadhana. Bahiranga Sadhana is external yoga or spiritual practices designed to perfect the outer instruments of body and prana (vital energy). Hence pranayamam

exercises are included in them. Once the body is perfected, the spiritual seeker attains fitness to start inner yoga or Antaranga Sadhana. This includes pratyahara (sense abstraction), dharana (concentration) and dhyana (meditation). The senses and the mind must be withdrawn from the sense objects and the mind must be focussed on the God within. The outer yogic practices prepare the aspirant to gain fitness to practise this inner yoga. Arjuna: The third of the Pandava brothers, (named after King Pandu) famed as the best archer in the whole world. He was the son Kunti begat from God Indra. He is also known as Krishna's disciple, the one whose dialogues with the Lord comprises the most sacred of Hindu books, The Bhagavad Gita, or The Celestial Song. Ashram: Literally, 'hermitage,' the abode of saints and rishis (sages). The word is also applied to the four conditions of living, viz, Brahmacharya ashram, Grihastha ashram, Vanaprastha ashram, and Sanyasa ashram, although they are better known as 'ashramas.' Ashrama: This was an age-based social system that defined the role and responsibilities of people. Working on the premise that a man's average length of life was a hundred years, the ashrama system divided this into four parts of twenty-five years each. The first was the Bramacharya ashrama, the life of a student, which he spent in his teacher's abode. The second was the Grihasta ashrama, the state of a householder, wherein he married and raised, for himself, a family. The third was the Vanaprastha, or the state of withdrawing or being an observer, who had given up the responsibilities of material existence. The last of the ashramas was the Sanyasa ashrama, or the life of a renunciate. Here, the individual withdrew from all social concerns and was totally immersed in his spiritual upliftment. Ashtavakra: A sage of ancient India. Also spelt Ashtaavakra, literally meaning eight bends, 'ashta' meaning 'eight,' and 'vakra,' meaning 'bends.' The son of Sage Uddalaka's daughter Sujata and his best pupil, Kahola. It is believed that Sujata sat, while pregnant, in the Vedic classes conducted by her father, so that the son in her womb could listen to the holy syllables. When, soon after, he heard his father recite the Vedas, he squirmed in distress, whenever a syllable was mispronounced. This happened on eight occasions and his little body was consequently disfigured, in eight different places. Ashtavakra grew to become a spiritually realized soul and was famed as King Janaka's teacher. His teachings are to be found in the Ashtavakra Gita. Asteyam: One of the five cardinal principles of mind control. Asteyam referes to the principle of 'non-stealing.' It implies that one does not covet goods that does not belong to one or even accumulate more

than what is strictly necessary. Through constant withdrawal from sense objects, the individual learns to concentrate on the Lord. Atman: also atma: the soul, undying, eternal, variously used both for the soul of the universe or the Divine soul, as in Paramatma, and the soul of man as in Jeevatma. Avatara: Literal meaning, 'descent.' It is the bodily manifestation or incarnation in animal or human form of the Ultimate Supreme Being, normally to combat evil, or save the world from sin. Avidya: The term is Sanskrit for ignorance or delusion. It refers to the unlearned or unwise. In advaitic philosophy, the term is used synonymously with the term maya. Avidya relates to the quality man has of differentiating himself from the Universal. This ignorance is not the result of a lack of learning, it is an ignorance of the true nature of reality. Eradication of avidya is supposed to lead to self-realization. Bahiranga sadhana: See Antaranga Sadhana. Balgopal: One of the innumerable names for Krishna, the manifestation of Lord Vishnu. Literally the word means, 'the child protector of cows.' From bal meaning 'child' and gopal meaning 'protector of cows.' Nurtured amidst cowherds, Krishna was often referred to as Govinda or Gopala, both terms that indicate his connection with the community. Bhagavad Gita, The: Literally meaning 'The Celestial Song,' The Bhagavad Gita is from the Bhishma Parva of The Mahabharata. While older manuscripts had 745 verses, Adi Sankara's commentary gives us 700 verses. The text constitutes a conversation between Lord Krishna and one of the Pandava princes, Arjuna, on the battlefield of Kurukshetra, where the battle of The Mahabharata is about to commence. It is considered as the ultimate guide to the Vedantic way of life. The Gita is also referred to as YogaUpanishad, thereby raising its stature to that of a revealed text. Bhagavadpada: The term is used often as a title of great honour. It literally means 'at the feet of the Lord.' Adi Sankara was given this epithet to signify his great holiness as well as the fact that he was often seen as the very manifestation of Lord Shiva. Bhagavad Purana, The: Also known as Srimad Bhagavatam, its primary focus is bhakti or a loving devotion to the Supreme, in which Lord Vishnu or Krishna is seen as the Lord of lords. The stories talk about the varied manifestation of the lord. The most famous is Canto X which deals with Lord Krishna's pastimes in Vrindavan. The whole of the Bhagavad Purana is supposed to have been narrated by Swami Sukhdev Goswami to King Parikshit, when the king decides to relinquish his kingdom, on being cursed to die

in seven days. Through the non-stop rendition of the Purana, Sukhdev Goswami reveals to King Parikshit his real goal in life. Bhagwan: God. The term has often been used to denote both God Himself, and humans who aspire to, or reach spiritual understanding. It has been used as a title of respect for spiritual teachers like Osho or Swami Narayan. Bhajan: Repeating the name of God, in adoration and worship, through compositions set to music. Bhakta: a worshipper, votary or a follower of a particular God or a school of thought. Implied in the word is the moral idea of piousness. Bhakti: Literally worship or adoration. It is the attitude of the bhakta towards God. While it means love, it also implies a deep devotion to the exclusion of all other emotions. Bhakti is complete reverence and total respect, a heart-felt immersion in God. It may be expressed through external worship or be entirely mental. Bhakti marga: The path of bhakti (the word marga means path or way). Three paths are recognized as leading man to a deliverance from the ceaseless cycle of birth and death - The Jnana-marga or the way of knowledge, the Karma-marga or the way of action and the Bhakti-marga or the way of devotion. Bhanudas: (1448-1513) The great grandfather of the eminent saint, Eknath. He was born in Pratistana or Paithani. Worshipping the Lord Vittala of Pandharpur, he was one of the well-known Varkari saints. His abhangs (hymns) are filled with bhakti and vairagya. Bharata, King: In the Bhagavad Purana, Bharata was the eldest of a hundred sons born to sage Rishaabha deva. On assuming the throne, he married Panchajani and had five sons by her. On growing old, like his father, he divided the kingdom among his five sons and withdrew to the forest for meditation and God-realization. The story of how he attained it is in the Bhagavad Purana. Bhartrihari, King: King of Ujjain in the 1st century B.C., he renounced his kingdom and retired to the forest on discovering the infidelity of his queen. He was a well-known Sanskrit grammarian and was author of Vairagya Sataka, a hundred verses on renunciation. Bhava: Literally 'emotion.' It stands for deep and lasting feelings, especially associated with a devotee's love for his God. Bhavani: Literally meaning 'giver of life,' she is the ferocious aspect of the Hindu goddess Shakti or Devi. Yet, despite her aggressive nature, she is often referred to as karuna swaroopini, 'the one who is the very image of mercy.' Bhogi: The one who enjoys the sensations that his sense organs

provide him. He is one who believes in satisfaction and strives to attain it in all his activities. He indulges his senses and seeks gratification at all times. Brahma: He is one of the main gods of Hinduism, one of the trinity, of which the other two are Vishnu and Shiva. He is not the same as the Supreme Cosmic Spirit addressed as Brahman. According to the Puranas, Brahma was self-born from the lotus that grew from the navel of Vishnu. While often termed as the Creator, he is actually the executor of the orders given to him by Brahman. The unique feature of Brahma worship is that in a country with a plethora of temples there are very few that are dedicated to this most seminal of gods. Brahmachari: Also Brahmacharya, is a Sanskrit word which signifies a life led in the quest of the Brahman, or a life expressing Brahman in though, word and deed. Traditionally this was the first stage of life, when after the upanayana or the 'thread ceremony,' (which initiated an individual into the fold of the Brahmacharis), a child was sent to live with his spiritual master for education. There he served the master, living a life of restraint and discipline till his education was completed. This state is also linked to the concept of celibacy, called 'the vow of Brahmacharya' that many spiritual aspirants take. Brahman: Brahman is the concept of the supreme spirit found in Hinduism. Brahman is the unchanging, infinite, immanent, and transcendent reality which is the Divine Ground of all matter, energy, time, space, being, and everything that is beyond this universe. Brahman is not to be confused with Brahma, the God or Brahmin, the caste. Brahma Sutra: The Brahma Sutra, also called Vedanta Sutras, constitute the Nyaya Prasthana, the logical starting point of the Vedanta philosophy (Nyaya means logic/order). No study of Vedanta is considered complete without a close examination of the Prasthana Traya, the texts that stand as the three starting points. While the Upanishads (Sruti prasthana, the starting point of revelation) and The Bhagavad Gita (Smriti prasthana, the starting point of remembered tradition) are the basic source texts of Vedanta, it is in the Brahma Sutras that the teachings of Vedanta are set forth in a systematic and logical order. Brahmin: From Brahmana, 'belonging to Brahma.' A Brahmin is considered dvija or 'twice-born' and belongs to the caste of priests in the hierarchical varna or caste system that existed in Hinduism. Since the Brahmins possessed the knowledge of the Vedas, they were thought to be the repositories of the intellectual wealth of society.

Browning, Robert:(1812-1889) British poet and playwright, whose mastery over dramatic verse, especially dramatic monologues made him foremost amongst the poets of the Victorian Era. Buddha, The: Literally 'an awakened soul.' Born Siddhartha Gautama, he was the prince of the royal family of Shakyas. Hence he is also known as Shakya muni. He left his wife and newborn child to seek enlightenment. He attained spiritual knowledge or nirvana, and thus became the founder of the religion called Buddhism. Chandala: The term was used quite opprobriously to indicate a despised and enslaved group of people. Today, it is rarely used in that context, instead being used to indicate any mean or churlish human being. Chaitanya: Literally, 'awareness.' It is the serene stillness of the knowing soul, the being filled with the knowledge of Self. Chinmayananda, Swami: (1916-1993) Born Balakrishna Menon, a post-graduate student of English literature, a freedom fighter and a journalist, he studied the scriptures under Swami Sivananda and Swami Tapovanam, and became a sanyasi, adopting the name of Chinmayananda, 'one who revels in the bliss of consciousness.' He is the founder of the Chinmaya Mission which has its branches all over the world. Daityas: Children of the sage Kashyapa and his wife Diti. Having been conceived by Diti when overcome with lust, against her husband's wishes, these creatures were demonic and destructive. The most famous of them were Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu. Mahabali, however, was a benign daitya. The daityas are often also called asuras. Dakshinamurty: Literally 'dakshina' meaning 'south' and 'murthy' meaning 'image,' it signifies 'the one who faces south.' It is another name for the lord Shiva. In most Shiva temples, the idol is placed facing south, or the direction of death, indicative of his role as the Lord of destruction. But Adi Sankara uses the term in describing Shiva, to connote his radiant and beautiful aspect. Darshan: Literally 'sight' or 'looking.' In the religious usage of the word, there is an implication of respect, reverence, worship. 'To have a darshan' is 'to be blessed with the sight of' either a saint or the Lord. Dattatreya: In the Hindu tradition, Dattatreya is considered a God, the very incarnation of the Divine Trinity, Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva. The term 'Datta' means 'given,' indicating that the Trinity had given themselves to Sage Atri and his wife, Anasuya, in the form of their son, Datta. The suffix to Datta, 'atreya,' is indicative of his father, Atri. Dattatreya is often seen as the Adi guru or the first guru.

Devaki: In Hindu mythology, Devaki is Vasudeva's wife, and mother of Balarama and Krishna. She was the daughter of Devaka, the younger brother of King Ugrasen, Kamsa's father. She was imprisoned by her brother Kamsa, when he heard that her eighth son would kill him. When Lord Krishna was born to her, her husband Vasudeva, took the child in the dead of night to Gokula and left him there for Yashoda and Nanda to rear. Devaki finally meets her son, only when he returns as a young lad to fight and kill Kamsa, in Mathura. Devaloka: The abode of the gods. They are described as places of eternal light and goodness, similar to the Christian concept of heaven. According to Hindus this plane of existence can be attained as soon as one is attuned to the righteous and good way of life. But only when one has exhausted all one's karmas can one reach an even higher plane called Vaikunta or Shivaloka, places of union with Lord Vishnu and Shiva. Devi: Literally 'goddess' in Sanskrit. The term 'devi' is synonymous with 'Shakti,' the female aspect of the Divine. It is also often used as a title, as a respectful form of address, when referring to women of high station. Dharma: A Sanskrit term that signifies the underlying order in the universe. The word is derived from 'dhr,' 'to hold' and its etymological meaning is that which holds this world together, from the smallest particle to the planets in space. Ethically it means the right way of living or the correct conduct, especially in the religious sense. With respect to spirituality, dharma means the way to the Higher Truths. Dharma is the central concept in all Indian religions, be it Hinduism, Buddhism or Jainism. Dhyana: Sanskrit, for a stage in the practice of meditation. The first step is the harnessing of the energies in order to bring them to a single point. This is dharana. When the energies that are so gathered are directed within, so that a silent stillness is achieved, this is called dhyana. When this stillness becomes all pervasive and continuous it converts into samadhi, a state wherein one merges completely with the Supreme Spirit. Diti: In Hindu mythology, Diti is the earth goddess, the daughter of Daksha, who himself is the son of Brahma. She is one of the thirteen wives of sage Kashyapa. Filled with lust, she cohabited with Kashyapa at the unholy hour of eventide, thus giving birth to demons who were also called daityas. It is said, that all her days, Diti tried vainly to enhance the powers of the daityas, in their eternal war against the gods. Draupadi: In the epic The Mahabharata, Draupadi, is the daughter of King Drupada. She later married all five Pandavas and then became

known as Princess Krishnaa. When Yudhishtira becomes the king of Hastinapur after the war, Draupadi again becomes queen. She is best known as Lord Krishna's devotee, whom he miraculously rescues from humiliation when the Kaurava princes decide to disrobe her in the presence of the entire court. It is to avenge her honour as well that the Mahabharata war is fought. It is believed that the female principle in all her varied forms, took birth in the body of Draupadi, who combined the combativeness of Goddess Kali, the coyness of Goddess Usha, the cunning of Goddess Bharati and the generosity of Goddess Lakshmi. Durvasa: In Hindu myths, Durvasa was an ancient sage, who was known for his short temper. One of the many sons of Sage Atri and Anasuya, he was a Brahmin of proud and irascible nature. His ill temper resulted in curses that he bestowed lavishly on all who crossed him, whether they were gods, devas or humans. Of course, myths also tell us how he was taught a lesson for his actions. Duryodhana: Literally meaning 'hard to conquer,' he was the eldest son of King Dhrithrashtra and his queen Gandhari, and the cousin of the Pandavas. He was known for his overweening ambition, vanity, lust and conniving ways. He was an ace wrestler and wielder of the mace, but met his end at the hands of Bhima, the strongest of the Pandava brothers. Dvaita: Literally meaning 'two,' it is a dualist school of Vedantic Hindu philosophy. Propounded by the Vaishnavite school of Madhavacharya, dvaita, arose as a counter point to Adi Sankara's advaitic school of thought. Unlike him, Madhava perceived an eternal distinction between the individual self and the Absolute. He also maintained that the world was a real creation of the Lord, unlike the advaitic school which saw all creation as 'maya.' Eknath, Sant: (1533-1599) Born in Paithan, Maharashtra, Sant Eknath, like many poets-saints of the period, created a fusion of bhakti and advaita. He emphasized the practice of bhajan singing, nama-smarana (chanting the Lord's name), purity of conduct, and meditation. He belonged to the Varkari tradition of bhakti saints. Besides the Eknathi Bhagavat, he wrote the Rukmini-Swayamvar, the story of Lord Krishna's marriage to Rukmini Devi. Ganapati: Son of Parvati, created from the unguents used to smear her body, Ganapati, was given an elephant head, after he lost his own, in a quarrel with Lord Shiva. He is the first of all the Gods to be worshipped, the destroyer of obstacles, the giver of wisdom. He is one of the most beloved gods of the Hindu pantheon. Ganapatiyas: The sect that makes the worship of Ganapati, central to their prayer. Ganas: The dwarf demons who always followed Lord Shiva.

Consequent upon restoring Ganapati to life, to allay Paravati's annoyance, Lord Shiva made him the head of his ganas, hence his name, Ganapati - leader of the tribe of ganas. Ganesha: Another name for Ganapati. He is also known as Ekadanta or Vignaharata. Gayatri Mantra: A highly revered chant, the Gayatri Mantra is next only to the holy 'Om.' Since the goddess Gayatri, the wife of Brahma, is herself considered as a hymn made visible, this mantra addressed to the Sun goes by her name. Every Brahmin, at each stage of his life repeats this mantra. The Gayatri Mantra is seen as a Divine awakening of the mind and soul, and is considered as creating the path to a union with the Absolute Brahman. Gnana: Also Jnana, it is the Sanskrit for knowledge. The knowledge referred to, is not of the material world, but of the spiritual truths that underlie life. The Gnana marga, or 'the path of knowledge' was considered one of the means of attaining enlightenment. Gnani: A wise one, one who is in command of the Self, and is therefore unshaken by the uncertainties of life. His desires are contained and he is not in need of satiating his senses. Such a man alone can be a guru or a master. Gopis: Sanskrit for 'cowherd girl.' In Hindu theology, the term is specifically used with reference to the milkmaids of Vrindavan, where Krishna used to reside. They were renowned for their unconditional devotion to Krishna.The most prominent of the gopis was Radha, Krishna's eternal beloved. Gora Kumbhar: One of the many Varkari saints who flourished in the state of Maharashtra in the 13th century. He was a potter by profession, but also a great bhakta of Vittala of Pandharpur. Govinda: Literally 'keeper of cows.' It comes from the root 'go,' which means variously the earth, cattle, speech and the Vedas. Krishna is lord of all of them.The term 'Govinda,' thus encompasses Krishna's role as the caretaker of the human soul, which is as deep as the earth, as generous as cattle, as sonorous as speech and as insightful as the Vedas. Govinda Bhagavadpada: He was the guru of the one of the greatest Hindu philosophers, Adi Sankara. Very little is known about his life or his works, except that he was the disciple of Gaudapada. It is believed that it was at his behest that Sankara set out to write the commentary for the Brahma Sutra, and it was with his blessings, that he wandered across India laying the basis for the formalization of Hinduism. Grihastha: Sanskrit, from the word 'griha,' literally meaning 'house.' This is the second stage or ashrama in the life of a Hindu, referring

to the state of a householder. After the Hindu child has finished his education at the ashram of the guru, he returns home to get married and start his own family. However, even in this state, he is supposed to rigorously follow the precepts laid down for his conduct and interaction. This stage lasts normally from age 20 to 60, when he retires from the active life of a householder to become a Vanaprastha. Guru: From the Sanskrit, literally meaning teacher or master. The word indicates both the sacred place of knowledge as well as the imparter of knowledge. As an adjective, the word means 'heavy' or 'weighty' as in 'heavy with wisdom.' The word may also be derived from 'gur,' which means 'to lift' or 'to raise.' Finally it also means the 'dispeller of darkness,' or 'one who leads from darkness (ignorance) to light (knowledge),' with 'gu' standing for 'darkness' and 'ru' for 'light.' In Hindu thought a guru has always been equated with God. Hari: One of the countless names by which Lord Krishna is known. Hari is used to refer to the sun. It also means the enchanting one or the Lord of Nature. Harihara: Literally from 'Hari' meaning Vishnu and 'hara' meaning Shiva. This is the merger of the two gods, Vishnu and Shiva in one form. It is said that when Lord Vishnu adopted the female form of Mohini, so enchanted was Shiva by this appearance that he embraced her and merged with her, only to find Vishnu return to his original form. The myth underlies the idea that all multiplicity is an illusion and there is a unity that binds all of creation. Hasthamalaka: A disciple of Adi Sankara. The anointed name comes from the two words, 'hastha,' meaning 'hand' and 'amalaka' meaning a 'gooseberry.' The word refers to the idea that to the Realized Soul the Atman is as apparent as a gooseberry in one's hand. Indriya-nigraha: One of the tenets to be followed in pursuit of dharma or righteous conduct. Literally from 'indriya,' meaning 'senses,' 'nigraha' meaning 'control.' In other words, 'sense control.' The senses, it is believed, create two reactions, both of which are harmful - desire and hate. Dharma consists of a constant effort to keep both under complete control. Ishvara: Sanskrit, from the adjective 'ishvara' meaning 'capable.' It stands for the Supreme Being or God, conceived as the Ruler over everything. The other terms used interchangeably with Ishvara are Paramatma and Bhagavan. Advaita believes that when Brahman presents Himself to the human, he appears with myriad attributes, in a personalized shape and form. It is this being that is referred to as Ishvara. Jagannatha: Another name for Lord Krishna. From the Sanskrit,

'jagath' meaning 'universe,' 'nath' meaning 'lord,' in other words, 'lord of the universe.' Krishna is most famously seen in this form as Jagannatha, in the Puri temple in Orissa, where the Jagannatha Yatra is celebrated with great pomp every year, through the annual chariot festival, where Lord Jagannatha is taken in a procession down the streets. Janaka: King of Videha, father of Sita, he was known as much for his knowledge as for his charity. Through his spiritual endeavour he became a Brahmin as well as a Rajrishi, a priest-king. It is believed that by his saintliness, Janaka prepared the way for the advent of the Buddha. Japam: Also 'japa.' A spiritual discipline involving the meditative repetition of a mantra or the name of God. Most often while japa is a soft intonation, it could also be a mental repetition, or a group chanting, done with the help of bells or even japa beads. The goal of all japa is an inducement of a still mind leading to the recognition of Self and thence to enlightenment. Jeevatma: The soul that abides in man. In Hindu philosophy, especially advaita, this soul is supposed to be a part of the Divine. Man's efforts are to free himself from the bondage of birth and death, so that his soul can re-unite with the Paramatma, that is the Divine Soul. Jnana marg: From the Sanskrit, 'jnana' meaning 'knowledge,' and 'marga' meaning 'path,' that is 'the path of knowledge.' This is the path that prescribes knowledge and understanding of the Self. Once the mind is honed through scriptures and the intellect sharpened through a reading of philosophy, the individual arrives at realization. This is the path of one who is immersed in learning. A follower of such a path is called a Jnana margi. Jnaneshwar: (1275-1297) Born in Maharashtra, Jnaneshwar was the chief proponent of the Varkari movement that led to a tidal wave of bhakti that swept across the state in the 13th century. With his siblings, Nivruttinath, Sopan and Mukta, Jnaneshwar was considered the very embodiment of enlightenment. He is best known for his exposition and translation of The Bhagavad Gita into the local language of the masses, Marathi. Called Jnaneshwari, it is a hallmark of sacred literature. At the tender age of 22, Jnaneshwar voluntarily took samadhi (to end one's material existence), thus concluding a remarkable life of devotion and service. Jyothirlinga: Sanskrit, from 'jyothi' meaning 'light'and 'linga' meaning 'emblem of Shiva.' The linga is a cylindrical shaped stone, often seen as a phallic symbol, but representative of Shiva's creative energy. It is worshipped by Hindus, in lieu of Shiva Himself. There are twelve jyothirlingas in India.

Kali: A form of the female deity, Shakti.The word 'Kali' literally means 'black.' Kali's black presence is in complete contrast to her consort, Shiva, who is smeared with the ashes of the crematorium. She is often worshipped as the main deity of Tantric practices, involving witchcraft. Images of Kali portray her as a malevolent presence, rampaging on battlefields, drunk with the blood of demons, ravaging the world in a macabre dance of death. With innumerable arms holding weapons, her feet trampling on corpses, a garland of skulls adorning her neck, flailing hair, bloodshot eyes and outstretched tongue, Kali is truly an image who provokes terror and fear. Yet, in the last two centuries, especially under the influence of saints like Ramakrishna Paramahamsa, she has been transformed slowly into the benign, maternal caretaker of lost souls as well. Kama: Also Kamadeva, the 'god of love.' He is often represented as a handsome young man with a bow and arrows. His bow is a sugar cane stalk, strung with a string of honeybees and his arrows are decorated with five kinds of fragrant flowers. His companions are a cuckoo bird, a parrot, humming bees, the gentle breezes, and the season of spring. He is supposed to be the son of Brahma, and husband of Rati. He was once famously annihilated by Lord Shiva, whose meditation he disturbed. He was subsequently restored, at the behest of Parvati. Kamsa: The son of King Ugrasen and Queen Padmavati of Mathura, Kamsa, legends tell us was born of the union of a gandharava (a flying spirit) and queen Padmavati, whom he approached in the guise of her husband Ugrasen. Wicked and cruel to the extreme, he was best known for imprisoning his sister, Devaki and her husband Vasudeva, on being informed that her eighth child would bring about his destruction. Despite killing each one of Devaki's off springs, Krishna, Devaki's eighth born, is still secretly ferreted away to Gokula, and eventually brought back to kill Kamsa. Kapalika: In Hindu terminology, Kapalika means 'bearer of the skull- bowl,' and has reference to Lord Bhairava's (another name for Lord Shiva) vow to take the kapala vow. As penance for cutting off one of the heads of Brahma, Lord Bhairava becomes an outcast and a beggar. In this guise, Bhairava frequents desolate places and cremation grounds, wearing nothing but a garland of skulls and ash from the pyre, and unable to remove the skull of Brahma fastened to his hand. The skull hence becomes his begging-bowl, and the Kapalikas (as well as the Aghoris of Varanasi) supposedly use skulls as begging bowls and as drinking and eating vessels in imitation of Shiva. Many sects of Kapalikas in Tamil Nadu are known to be cannibals.

Karma: Action, also the effects resulting from action; also the law of spiritual cause and effect, taking place in one or many lifetimes. The theory of karma entails that one lives through birth after birth, constantly accumulating good karma for virtuous deeds and bad karma for vicious ones. This will continue, until through spiritual evolution, the individual soul, deletes all ego and performs action, merely as an instrument of the Lord. When this happens, then karma stops getting accumulated, wisdom dawns, realization arrives and man gains enlightenment and finally a state known as moksha. This is the central tenet of Hindu, Buddhist and Jain philosophy. Karma bhoomi: From the Sanskrit, 'karma' for 'action,' 'bhoomi' for 'earth. 'The earth, where man lives is called the 'karma bhoomi,' because it is here that he works out his destiny through the performance of karmas. Karma marga: From the Sanskrit, 'karma' for 'action,' 'marga,' for 'path.' The path of action, of good deeds, consisting of service, charity and compassion is often seen as godliness in action. But to be on the path of karma, one must go a step further. When one acts without desire for the fruits of the action and offers it with humility to the Lord, then all action gets elevated to the status of a prayer. Karma margi: A person on the 'path of right action.' Karpuragaura: Sanskrit, from the words 'karpura' meaning 'camphor,' and 'gaura' meaning 'radiant.' It was used to describe Lord Shiva, whom Adi Sankara believed was as radiant as camphor. Kashyapa: A sage. He was the son of Marichi, who was the mind born son of Brahma. He is supposed to be the father of the devas (the gods), the asuras (the demons), the nagas (the snakes) and all of humanity. He is one of the seven sages from whom all Brahmin families originate. Kirtan: Song or hymn sung in praise of the Lord. Among certain traditions, these are sung in chorus, at the time of worship. Krishna: The eighth avatara of Lord Vishnu, literally, the dark one, who establishes dharma in the third quarter of the world cycle, renowned as much for his attractive looks and music as for his winsome ways. Pictured with wayward curly locks, a peacock feather rakishly strutting his head, wild flowers adorning his neck, yellow silk robes caressing his body, a flute held tantalizingly against his lips, his eyes brimming with mischief and mirth, surrounded by a motley gang of cows, peacocks, milkmaids and boys, Krishna is all he is made out to be - the stealer of butter, the baiter of women, the crafty politician, the logical strategist, the benign benefactor, the loyal friend, the passionate lover, the patient teacher and above all, the deity who is the most beloved of the

Hindu gods. To those who love Him, he is indeed the Purna Avatara, the all in all, Godhead personified. Kumkum: The traditional kumkum, is made from dried turmeric, which is powdered with slaked lime. It then turns the rich yellow powder into red colour. It is considered one of the most auspicious Hindu symbols, signifying female power. It is applied between the eyebrows It is said to activate the energy that leads to prosperiy and the welfare of the family. Placed at the spot where Shiva's third eye was traditionally supposed to exist, it also symbolizes spiritual enlightenment. It is considered the sign of a married woman and is used in all rituals, especially in the worship of Shakti, the female principle in her form as Lakshmi. Lakshmana: Literally, 'the lucky one,' younger brother of Lord Rama, son of Dasharatha and Queen Sumitra, twin brother of Shatruguna. He is believed by many to be the incarnation of Seshnag, Lord Vishnu's serpent. Having accompanied Lord Rama in exile, he is seen as the devoted brother. In all his actions and gestures, he is a complement to his brother - the very perfection of human character. Lakshmi: See Mahalakshmi Lila: This is a concept in Hinduism, where all things that shape reality and the cosmos are seen as the outcome of the Lord's creative play. Birth, death, victory, defeat, joy, sorrow, all transient things that appear permanent are all the effect of this play. The multiplicity of all creation, which however, harbours only one Creative Energy, is seen too as part of that Lila. Linga: Also lingam, meaning 'mark' or 'sign,' is also known as 'shivalinga.' Extending back to the early Vedic civilization, the worship of the linga is part of the worship of Lord Shiva. Found in all Shiva temples, this is a rounded, elliptical, iconic image, placed on a circular base. It is a form that represents most perfectly the God without form, or the God beyond form. The linga has also often been seen as a phallic symbol, standing for the creative force of Lord Shiva. Mahabali: Also known as Maveli or Bashkali. The grandson of Prahalada, in response to whom, Lord Vishnu appeared as Narasimha avatara, Mahabali was the iconic generous king. So charitable was his disposition, that legend had it, that no one was ever turned away disappointed from his door.Yet his generosity was equalled only by his vanity. To curb his reign, Lord Vishnu appeared as a dwarf avatara, Vamana, and demanding three feet of ground, covered the earth and the sky in two steps and placed the third on Mahabali's head, pushing the great asura, once and for all into the kingdom of hell. It is believed that once a year, Mahabali

returns to Kerala, and it is in commemoration of this occasion that the festival of Onam is celebrated. Mahabharata, The: The Mahabharata, is one of the two major ancient Sanskrit epics of India, the other being The Ramayana. Traditionally ascribed to Guru Veda Vyasa, it is the longest literary epic poem in the world. The full version contains over 200,000 verses and is around 2.5 million words long. Its central theme is the establishment of dharma in the war between the Pandavas and their cousins, the Kauravas, for the throne of Hastinapur. Besides being hailed as one of the greatest literary accomplishments of humanity, it is also of immense religious and philosophical importance in India. In particular, The Bhagavad Gita, which is one of its chapters (Bhishmaparva), is a central sacred text of the Hindus. Mahalakshmi: Also Lakshmi. Born out of the churning of the ocean by the devas (citizens of heaven) and asuras (denizens of the under world), Mahalakshmi marries Vishnu and becomes the Goddess of Wealth. But she is also the goddess of wisdom, luck, beauty and fertility. She is considered the mother of the universe, finding representation in Buddhist and Jain monuments as well. She is worshipped through the Sri Sukta, which was a later addition to the Rig Veda. While she is always associated with the lotus, her vehicle is Ulooka, the owl. The festival in her honour is the best-known Hindu one - Diwali. Mahesh: Sanskrit, from 'Maha' meaning 'great,' and 'ishvara' meaning 'God.' Another name for Shiva. Mandodari: She was the daughter of the King of the Danavas (a race of asuras or demons), Mayasura and the celestial dancer, Hema. Mandodari was a very pious woman who was afraid of nothing except unrighteousness. So besotted was Ravana by her beauty that he married her and made her his first queen. Thereafter, despite his many liaisons, she remained his favorite wife. All through the war with Rama, Mandodari remained Ravana's conscience keeper, constantly warning him of the dire consequences of his impetuous haste in kidnapping Sita and his subsequent obsessive desire for her. She was the mother of Indrajit, the powerful and strong warrior who even subdued Lord Indra. Ironically, although the wife of a demon she was always seen as the symbol of a chaste wife. Mantras: From the Sanskrit, 'man' meaning 'think,' and 'tra' meaning 'tool,' so mantra means 'an instrument of thought.' A mantra is a religious or mystical chant. Their repetition is supposed to create vibrations that are pleasant. Maya: Normally translated as 'illusion.' But in Vedantic terms, it is actually an ignorance that sees the forms of this world as distinct

from the One Reality. The existence of a duality is a particular form of illusion which is known as maya. In usage maya is personified as the very cause of ignorance or avidya. Meera (also Mirabai): (1498-1547) A female Hindu mystical poet during the Mughal period of Indian history. Disciple of Guru Ravidas, she composed many prayerful songs called bhajans. Unmindful as much of position as of gender, she sang fervently in the bhakti tradition, and most passionately praised Lord Krishna, to whom she considered herself wedded. It is said that she finally merged with him, as she disappeared from human sight. Her songs still form the backbone of Hindu devotional poetry. Menaka: In Hindu mythology, Menaka is considered as one of the most alluring of heavenly nymphs, who were called apsaras. She is assigned by Indra, lord of the devas (citizens of heaven), to destroy sage Vishwamitra's meditation, because of which the earth was on the verge of explosion. This she does by enticing him with her lustful ways. Vishwamitra's penance is broken and out of their union is born Shakuntala, who later begets Bharata, after whom India derives its name, Bhaarat. Mimansakas: Practisers of the school of thought called Purva and Uttara Mimansa. Originating in Sanskrit, it literally means 'investigation. 'The Mimansakas follow the Purva Mimansa Sutra of sage Jaimini. The school reached its zenith with Kumarilabhatta and Prabhakara. According to them, the practice of dharma meant following the rituals as laid down by the Vedas. It therefore lays the highest emphasis on karma. This school is essentially atheistic, believing in the pursuit of right action as an end in itself. Hence moksha or salvation too was given short shrift by them. Moksha: Deliverance of the soul from the body, its exemption from further transmigration, with all its joys and sorrows, sins and good deeds, and its absorption into the Divine Essence. Murari: Another name for Lord Krishna. It literally means 'slayer of Mura.' Mura was the lieutenant of Narakasura, the asura who had conquered the earth and heaven and unleashed a reign a terror. Krishna first slew Mura and then decapitated Narakasura with his Sudarshan Chakra. Muttas: Centres or seats of religion. Adi Sankara was the first to organize Hindus into monastic orders and give them a geographical location in the muttas. Namdev: (1270-1350) Prominent among the bhakti poets of Maharashtra, Namdev was often considered Sant Tukaram's guru. He was an ardent devotee of Lord Krishna, who was seen as Vittala at Pandharpur. His abhangs are sung, along with that of the other Varkari saints. Significantly sixty one of Namdev's abhangs have

been included in the Sikh holy book, the Guru Granth Sahib. Unlike the other saints, Namdev was a solitary man, forever in search of his God. Nandalal: Another name for Lord Krishna. 'Lal' means 'son.' Nandalal therefore means 'the son of Nanda.' Lord Krishna was taken, after birth to Gokul, where he was raised by Nanda, the cowherd and his wife, Yashoda. Hence the name. Narada: Also Narad muni. He was the mind born son of Lord Brahma. He played a prominent role in the Bhagavad Purana. Considered a friend of Lord Krishna, he was a travelling mendicant, who constantly chanted the Lord's name calling out to him as "Narayana." His hymns were sung to the accompaniment of the veena, a stringed instrument he carried with him everywhere. He is prominent among the sages for promoting bhakti yoga. Narasimha avatara: From the Sanskrit 'nar' 'man' and 'simha,' 'lion.' He was the half man, half lion manifestation of Lord Vishnu, the fourth of the destined ten manifestations the Lord was to take. He appeared from a stone pillar, in response to his little devotee Prahalada's prayers, in order to rid the world of the tyranny of Hiranyakashipu, the daitya born of Diti and Kashyapa. Narayana: Literally moving in the waters. Another name for Lord Vishnu, as he slept on the Ocean atop Seshnag, the snake. He is the sole deity the Vaishnavite believes in and surrenders to. Nirguna: Always used in relation to Brahman, as 'nirguna Brahman.' From the Sanskrit, 'nir' 'without,' 'guna,' 'attributes,' In other words, 'the one without attributes.' The concept denotes the Reality that pervades the whole universe. It stands for the God who is without any form or attributes, as Advaita posits, a God seen as beyond sensory and mental comprehension. Despite the fact that Hinduism is peopled by a surfeit of gods, Vedanta insists that at the highest level, Brahman is 'nirguna.' When he appears to us as having attributes, he is present in his form as 'saguna Brahman.' Padmapada: From the Sanskrit, 'padma' meaning 'lotus,' 'pada' meaning 'feet.' A student of Adi Sankara. Converted to Sankara's path, he was so devoted to him that when he walked across the river at his teacher's behest, lotus' bloomed under his feet, giving him the name Padmapada. Pandavas: The five sons of King Pandu, conceived from the devas (demi-gods), Dharma (God of Justice), Pavan (God of wind), Indra (God of weather and war) and the Ashwins (the Sun twins), by Pandu's wives, Kunti and Madri. They were helped in the battle of Kurukshetra, which they fought against their evil cousins, the Kauravas, by Lord Krishna. They have stood in the Hindu mind for the personification of righteousness.

Pandu: One of the three off springs begat by Veda Vyasa on Amba, Ambalika (both princesses of Hastinapur) and a maid. The other two were Dhristhrashtra (born to Amba) and Vidura (born to a maid). Pandu (born to Ambalika) became king of Hastinapur. His wives, Kunti and Madri, bore him the Pandava princes, Yudhishtira, Bhima, Arjun, Nakula and Sahadeva. Parabrahman: Sanskrit, from 'para,' that is 'beyond,' and 'Brahman,' 'the universal spirit.' That which is beyond Brahman; the self- enduring, eternal, self-sufficient cause of all, the one essence of everything in the cosmos. It is before all things in the cosmos, and is the sole, limitless, life-consciousness from which all existence starts. In the Vedas, it is referred to as 'tat' (that) as opposed to the world of manifestation called 'idam' (this). Paramarthika satta: Sanskrit for the changeless, permanent absolute Reality. According to Adi Sankara, Brahman is Paramarthika Satta, the Reality that is constant, unlike the world that is Vyavaharika Satta, a changing, temporary, relative reality. Paramatma: Literally param meaning the most important, atma meaning soul, in other words, the Divine Soul. The Originator, the presence in all things on this earth. He is the one in whom the soul of man will finally seek to get absorbed. Parvati: Sanskrit, from 'parvat,' 'mountain.' Her name means, 'daughter of the mountain.' She was Himavan's (the Himalayas) daughter. It is said that when Sati, Shiva's wife immolated herself, such was Shiva's grief that she was reborn as Parvati. In this manifestation, she had to undergo severe penance to win over her erstwhile husband, Shiva, which she eventually does. Parvati is the benign form of the female power, called Shakti. Her sons are Kartikeya and Ganapati. Pooja: The ritual of prayer. It is both an invocation of, and a communication with, the gods. It involves chanting of verses in praise of the Lord (shlokas), offering flowers or garlands to Him (haar), lighting a lamp and waving it around Him (aarti), and offering food to Him and then partaking of it as well (prasad). Prahlada: Son of the daitya, Hiranyakasupu, Prahlada, was a well- known bhakta of Lord Vishnu. It was to save him from the wrath of his father, that the Lord assumed the form of Narasimha, half lion, half man and destroyed him. Later, Prahlada ascended the throne and is supposed to have ruled wisely and well. His moral instructions on the worship of Lord Vishnu are to be found in the Bhagavad Purana, as also the story of his life. Pramanas: Sanskrit for 'the instruments of knowledge.' In order to comprehend knowledge man must make use of certain faculties. These are called 'pramanas.'

Pranayamam: From the Sanskrit, 'prana,' meaning 'life' and 'ayama' meaning 'suspension.' It stands for the control of one's life force. It is often also translated as 'breath control.' But there are those who interpret it as the expansion of individual energy into the cosmic energy. Pratyahara: The fifth element among the eight stages of Patanjali's Ashtanga Yoga. In this stage the disciple internalizes the sensations from the five senses, so that they do not reach the brain and distract him during his meditation. Pranayama or breath control aids in Pratyahara. Another method often used to internalize the senses is through concentration of attention on the point between the eyebrows. Pundits: Sanskrit for 'scholar.' A pundit was generally a Hindu, oftentime a Brahmin, learned in the scriptures as well as the method and manner of chanting them during the performance of sacrificial rituals called yagyas. It has also become a title of respect, indicating scholarship as in the case of Jawaharlal Nehru who was called Pandit Nehru. Radha: She is the first beloved of Lord Krishna. Considered to be from Barsana, the neighbouring settlement to that of Krishna's Vrindavan, she is variously portrayed as his aunt by marriage as well as a much older friend. She was the daughter of Vrishbanu, a chieftain, and belonged to the cowherd community. Accounts are conflicting about her status, some mentioning her marriage to a relative of Yashoda (Krishna's mother), some to Krishna Himself in a secret ceremony at Vrindavan. She does find place in The Bhagavad Purana, but most seminally in Jayadeva's Gita Govinda. She is seen by the mystically inclined as the human soul thirsting for union with the Divine, in an endless ecstasy of yearning. Today, many sects worship her with the same ardour they reserve for Lord Krishna Himself. Ramachandra (Rama): The seventh incarnation of Lord Vishnu. Having sacrificed his throne and his kingdom just to maintain a promise given by his father, steadfast in devotion, upright in character, entirely human, yet supremely godly, Lord Rama is the ultimate perfection of the human character. The personification of sterling virtue, he is called, Maryada Purushottam Ram, the very embodiment of righteousness and duty. Ramakrishna Paramahamsa: (1836-1886) Born to poor parents in a village of Kamarpukar, in Bengal, this great sage was named Gadhadhar. Mystical by nature, he would fall into a trance even when he watched birds fly. He saw God's spirit animating all of creation. His best-known disciple was Swami Vivekanand. After his death, his disciples got together to spread his teachings in the name

of The Ramakrishna Mission. Ramana Maharishi: (1879-1950) was a Hindu sage who lived in the mountains of Arunachala. Born Venkatrama in the state ofTamil Nadu, he had a mystical experience at the age of sixteen when he felt himself die. He immediately was drawn towards a life of spiritual renunciation, which he undertook by simply walking away from his home and parents, in much the way that Siddhartha did, before he became The Buddha. Ramana was a practitioner of Advaita and believed that all enquiries about God would have to start with the simple but pertinent question, "Who am I?" Ramayana The: The great epic, revolving around the valourous life of the seventh incarnation of Vishnu, Lord Rama. Sage Valmiki has been credited with writing the authentic version of Lord Rama's life. The original Sanskrit has been translated into a variety of Indian languages, all versions considered equally sacred. Ratnakar: The given name of Sage Valmiki. Born to Brahmin parents, it is variously said that either he was lost and adopted by dacoits or he was forced into robbery because of successive droughts in his land. Finally while accosting Narada, Ratnakar is made to realize the errors of his way and sits down to meditation on the name of Rama, until after years, when anthills have completely covered him, Ratnakar is granted enlightenment. In this state when Narada sees him once more, he christens him, Valmiki (one who emerges from an ant-hill). It is after this experience that Valmiki is inspired to write the story of Lord Rama, in the first-ever version of The Ramayan. Ravana: Also called Dashamuka, for his ten heads, he is the King of Sri Lanka, a rakshasa (demon) and yet a scholar of the Vedas, and an extremely proficient player of the divine stringed instrument, the veena. He met his deserved death at the hands of Sri Rama for having kidnapped his wife, Sita. Rudraksha: It is the seed of the rudraksha tree. Literally from 'Rudra' meaning 'Shiva' and 'aksha' meaning 'tears.' So, rudraksha is a teardrop of Shiva. Mythology has it that the plant on which the rudraksha seed grows was formed from the teardrops Shiva shed on the death of his wife Sati. The rudraksha beads are generally worn by Shaivites (devotees of Shiva) as a mark of renunciation but also for purposes of prayer and healing. Rukmini: Usually considered the avatara of Lakshmi, she is Krishna's beloved wife. The daughter of King Bhishmaka of Vidarbha, Rukmini's brother, Rukmi, arranges her marriage to Shishupal, the king of Chedi. But Rukmini loses her heart to Krishna. So in an eloquent plea, she sends him a letter, in response to which, Krishna in a daring bid, kidnaps her from the marriage

altar to make her, his wife. She has always been seen as the devoted consort of Krishna. Roti: Hindi for a round bread, roasted or friend on a pan, usually made from wheat flour. Rishi: From the Sanskrit for poet, priest, sage, to whom the Vedas have been revealed. The word has been derived from the root, 'rsh,' which means variously 'to move,' or 'to flow,' or 'to push.'A rishi is one who pushes beyond the material world, in order to seek spiritual knowledge. The rishis were the mind-born sons of Brahma. The first seven, Gautama, Bharadwaja, Jamadagni, Vasishta, Kashyapa, Atri and Vishwamitra, belonged to the Pre-Vedic era. They were the original Saptarishis (seven rishis). The next seven, Marichi, Angiras, Pulaha, Kratu, Pulastya, Bhrigu and Daksha were the Saptarishis of the later era. Rishis are often termed as 'satyavachakas' for they have attained the truth and see it for what it is, the face of God. Sadhu: A holy man, a saint or sage; one who subdues passions and acquires contemplative habits. He is considered to be one who is pure in thought, truly devoted to God, also one who has renounced material ties. Saguna Brahman: The opposite of 'Nirguna Brahman.' From the Sanskrit, 'saguna,' 'with qualities' and 'Brahman,' 'the Absolute.' In other words it means 'The Absolute who has qualities' While Nirguna Brahman refers to the Almighty Spirit that animates all of creation, Saguna Brahman stands for His manifestation through an endless variation of deities, like Rama, Krishna, Shiva, Skanda, Ganapati and Devi. According to Advaita it is just the mind of the devotee, which, out of a deep flow of bhakti, gives form and attributes to the pure and unqualified Absolute. Sakthas: This is a Hindu sect that worships God as the female principle. This principle is seen as Shakti, the power behind Shiva, the lord. Hence worshippers of Shakti are called Shakthas. The Supreme Deity is the Universal Mother. She is seen as the personification of love and compassion, kindness and joy. The Devi Mahatmayam, highlighting the glory of the female manifestation, is the sacred text of the Sakthas. Samsara: From the Sanskrit which means 'to flow together,' samsara is the basic tenet of Hindu thought. It believes that the spirit flows from birth to birth until it attains moksha or deliverance. According to Advaita, samsara and all that is connected with this so-called reality are mere illusions. One has to rise above it to discover the true Reality that is God. Sanatana dharma: From the Sanskrit, 'sanatana,' meaning 'eternal,' 'dharma,' meaning 'law.' Another way of describing Hinduism. The

set of beliefs and practices, both diverse and heterodox, that marks Hinduism, its vast array of scriptural texts, its insistence on seemingly contradictory concepts, all form part of this dharma. It is believed to be eternal and changeless, as against the very ephemeral life of man. Hence, for the believers in Hinduism, to obey the tenets of Hindu thought is to live life in concurrence with the eternal laws that go beyond life. Sanyasi: One who has cast off all worldly possessions and carnal or natural affections; an ascetic. Sarada Devi: Also known as the Holy Mother, she was the wife and counterpart of the great Bengali saint Ramakrishna Paramahamsa. Born of pious parents in Jayarambati, she married Ramakrishna and staunchly supported his spiritual pursuits. She soon became a leader of no mean repute, carrying on the work that Ramakrishna had started, even after his death. By living example she showed how God could be realized through service and simplicity, qualities she completely identified with. Saraswati: Earlier represented as a water goddess, in Hindu mythology, Sarawati is the consort of Lord Brahma, the Creator and soon becomes the goddess of learning, the arts, music and dance. Refined and austere, she is seen sitting on a lotus with four arms, with one hand carrying a book which is the holy Vedas, the other a chain of beads representing the power of prayer, the third, a pot of sacred water, standing for the purifying power of knowledge and the fourth a veena, a musical instrument that expresses her supreme command over sound and rhythm. Along with Durga and Lakshmi, she forms the triumvirate of Devis, who are worshipped during Navrathri, (the nine nights) every year. Sarvajnapitha: From the Sanskrit, 'sarva' meaning 'all,' 'jnana' meaning 'knowledge,' and 'pitha' meaning 'throne,' in other words, 'the throne which seats the all-knowing one.' This was a throne, in Kashmir, which was ascended only by realized souls. Adi Sankara was one of those who was seated on it, as a tribute to his wisdom. Satchitananda: Either 'Truth-Intelligence-Joy' or 'Existence- Consciousness-Bliss.' Both meanings are used to refer to the Paramatma (Causal Soul) or God. Although Godhead is entirely beyond description, this is the closest we come to understanding his state of ecstatic stillness. Satsang: From the Sanskrit, 'sat' meaning 'true,' 'sang' meaning 'company,' in other words, 'the company of the true.' It also stands for the company of the guru or of an assembly of people who listen to, talk about and assimilate the truth. This typically involves listening to or reading scriptures, reflecting on, discussing and understanding their meaning, meditating on the source of these words, and

bringing their meaning to work into one's daily life. Satyabhama: She is the willful, often temperamental wife of Krishna, daughter of Satrajit, a chieftain. She is often shown in conflict with Rukmini, the more sedate and dignified consort of Krishna. Devotees see Satyabhama as the incarnation of the earth goddess, Bhudevi. Satyam: Sanskrit for the 'truth.' This is one of the five regulative principles a Hindu is supposed to follow. 'Truth' here would mean 'truth to self,' wherein the individual has both integrity of purpose and single-mindedness of vision. Saura Pujakas: From the Sanskrit, meaning 'sun worshippers.' Sun worship in India was one of the oldest traditions, part of the verses of the most ancient Vedas, the Rig Veda. For them, the Sun is the source of light, energy, of life itself. Theirs is part of the pantheistic tradition so well woven into Hinduism. Both Vaishnavites (who see the sun as Surya Narayana) and the Shaivites (who see the sun as one of the aspects of Shiva) worship the Sun, who is also called Aditya or Bhaskara. Shaivite: From Shaivism, or Saivism, a sect amongst Hindus who worship Shiva. The Shaivites also accord importance to Shiva's sons Ganesha and Skanda. They are distinguished by the sacred ash they normally wear on their forehead, the rudraksha beads around their necks and the reverence they accord to the linga, the symbol of Lord Shiva. Their sacred chant is 'Om Namah Shivaya.' Shakti: From the Sanskrit word for 'power' or 'energy,' Shakti is the personification of the female principle. Sometimes quiescent, at other times demoniac, she is simultaneously the loving mother as well as the ferocious annihilator. But most important of all her roles is that of the active, dynamic power of creation. While for the Shakthas, Shakti is the Supreme Being, for other Hindu sects, she is seen as the source of the energy and the animation of the male deity. She is Prakruti to his Purusha. It was to acquire her participation that Shiva had to depict himself as Ardhanareshwar (half male and half female) to begin the process of creation. In Hindu cosmology, Shakti is the equal of Shiva, in every way. Sharada Ma: Another name for Goddess Saraswati. For more details see Saraswati. Shiva: From the Sanskrit meaning 'The Auspicious One' or 'the one who is kind, friendly, gracious and generous,' Shiva is one of the principle deities of Hinduism. He is indeed one of the most complex conceptions of the thinking mind, a God like no other. For He is Shiva, the kind one, and yet, Rudra, the angry one, He is the still and silent Yogeshwar, yet the frenzied, furious Nataraja of the tandav rhythm, He is the benign teacher, Dakshinamurti and yet the

malevolent Virupaksha, He is Neelakantha, the blue throated one, and yet He is Sundaramurthi, the most beautiful one. He is teacher, creator, lover, friend. He is destroyer, mendicant, wanderer, warrior. Above all, He is Kala, Time itself in all its splendorous variations of destruction, creation, resuscitation and regeneration. Matted locks holding in place the crescent moon as well as the waters of the Ganges, third eye shut in meditation, open in wrath, blue throat encircled by snakes, body covered in ash, with a tiger skin for a seat, Shiva encapsulates all that man is and may ever want to be. He is man's aspirations, his realizations, his destination. Shiva Purana: The Puranas are an ancient genre of Hindu literature, usually retelling stories of creation and dissolution. Each one of the gods who are significant has a Purana named after him. The Shiv Purana dedicated to Lord Shiva has 24,000 verses in it. Tradition has it that sage Ved Vyasa's disciple, Romaharshana was the author of the Shiva Purana. Sruti: Hindi sacred literature is classified as Sruti or Smriti. The term 'Sruti' is from the Sanskrit for 'sound.' These are the revealed scriptures. The Vedas fall into this category, as they are not supposed to have been written by any human. On the contrary, they were believed to be revelations of eternal, changeless truths, the cosmic sounds experienced by the rishis of yore. Sita: Literally meaning 'furrow,' she was so named because she was found in the earth by King Janaka of Videha. Hence she is also known as Janaki or Vaidehi. She becomes Lord Rama's consort, and since He is worshipped as the avatara of Lord Vishnu, she is seen as the incarnation of Lakshmi. After suffering abduction and imprisonment in the rakshasa Ravana's garden, the Ashokavan, she is finally rejected by her husband Lord Rama as well, despite having proved her purity through an agni pareeksha, a trial by fire. In desperation, she enters the earth, from where she was first found. She is often considered the symbol of Indian womanhood. Sivananda Swami: (1887-1963) was a Hindu spiritual leader and a well known proponent of Yoga and Vedanta. He lived most of his life in Rishikesh and was the founder of the Divine Life Society. Skanda: The son of Parvati and Shiva, born to kill the demon Surapadman who ravaged the earth. Hence he is also known as the god of war. It is said that he was nursed by the six stars, or krithikas leading to his being called Karthikeya or Kumara. Smriti: These are the second set of Hindu scriptures. The term 'Smriti' from the Sanskrit refers to 'memory.' Smritis are human compositions, and are classified as Dharmasastras (laws governing human conduct), Itihasa (Histories that include the epics Ramayana and the Mahabharata), Puranas (stories relating to the

deities), Vedanga (relating to language, prosody and grammar), Agamas (doctrines relating to mantras or chants, tantras or spells and yantras or symbols), and Darshanas (schools of philosophical thought) Soonyavadi: From the Sanskrit, 'soonya' meaning 'zero,' 'vadi' meaning 'practitioner.' Soonyavadis were believers in nothingness, an atheistic school of thought that questioned and invalidated all beliefs and faiths. Soucham: Meaning 'purity,' it is one of the five regulative principles every Hindu must abide by. Here, purity refers to purity of thought, where one is a well-wisher of the whole earth, purity of heart, where there is mercy and love for all creatures on earth, and purity of deed where all one's action are sincere and straight-forward. Sravanam: From the Sanskrit, 'to listen.' Here, Sravanam refers to one of the methods of worship that has been set forth, wherein the devotee constantly listens to the name of the Lord, either through stories recited about Him, or through songs sung in His praise, or through chants recited in deep devotion. Sthitha pragya: From the Sanskrit meaning 'steady disposition.' Lord Krishna in The Bhagavad Gita, speaks of the man of wisdom as a 'sthitha pragya.' He is one who is neither torn asunder by sorrow nor lifted aloft by joy, neither battered by delusions nor shaken by circumstances. Such steady consciousness, that is still and calm, that watches the world at all times, that lives, always in the moment, is alone capable of realization. It is the state that every individual should aspire to realize. Sufi: Literally from the word, 'saaf,' meaning 'pure of heart,' or from 'suf,' meaning 'wool,' or the Greek word 'sophia' meaning 'wise.' The Sufis were a part of a mystic tradition of Islam. The essence of Sufi practice is that the Sufi surrenders to God, in love, all things from the content of his consciousness - his perceptions, thoughts, feelings, even his very sense of self, for he sees all things as gifts or manifestations of God. Sukacharya: The son of Guru Veda Vyasa, Sukadeva as he was called, was born out of the fire. He was supposed to be a realized soul even while he was on earth. It was at his feet that King Parikshit heard The Bhagavat Purana, recited to him, to enable him to gain enlightenment. Surdas: (1483-1573) A Hindu poet, saint and musician of India. He is said to have been blind from birth. Surdas' poetry was in Brij bhasha, a dialect of Hindi. He was a prolific composer, known for his Sur Sagar (Ocean of Melody). This magnum opus is said to originally contain 100,000 poems or songs; however, today only 8,000 have survived. Endowed with an inner vision, the poet sang

as if he could see before him the exploits of Krishna directly. Surya: From the Sanskrit, for 'the sun.' In Hinduism, Surya is the chief solar deity, one of the Adityas, son of Kashyapa and Aditi. He has hair and arms of gold and rides a chariot pulled by seven horses. He presides over Ravivar, or Sunday. In religious literature, Surya is portrayed as the form of the invisible God whom we can see every day. Svanubhuti: A direct experience of the Lord. It was an experience that almost all spiritual leaders of Hindu thought spoke about, as leading to realization. In Sanskrit, the word used is 'darshan,' which is a 'sight' of the Lord and a feeling of complete oneness with Him. The Puranas speak about this darshan, as the end result of great austerities and meditation, when the Lord allows his disciple to come face to face with Him. Swayambulinga: From the Sanskrit 'swayam,' which means 'on one's own,' the swayambulinga are self-created symbols, which have become objects of worship. They have been created either by natural causes or by divine ones, but have not been made by man. These lingas are especially sacred, for they are seen as Shiva's direct manifestations. Tantras: One of the several esoteric traditions rooted in Hinduism. Tantra sees the universe as a concrete manifestation of the divine energy of the Godhead, that creates and maintains the universe, and seeks to ritually channelize that energy through the human medium. Tantric practices involve the chanting of spells, (mantras) and the use of symbols (yantras) all of which have magical potency, and which ensure that the Divine is manifested in the human. Tantra is generally practiced by the Sakthas, who believe in the worship of Shakti, the female principle who is the guardian of all tantric knowledge. Tantrics: Practioners of tantra. See tantras for more detail. Thyagi: 'Thyagi' comes from the Sanskrit, 'thyag,' 'to sacrifice.' A thyagi is one who gives up wealth and attachments, in order to seek the spiritual truth. A 'thyagi' is also called 'a sanyasi.' He is one who has given up all the external trappings of the material world, like family and home and lives either as a wandering ascetic or in a hermitage, where his needs are minimal and his thoughts are turned inwards. Totaka: A complex metre in Sanskrit poetry which involves mastery of the language. It is said, that with Adi Sankara's grace, one of his duller pupils managed to recite verses in this metre, to the amazement of all the others. He was hence re-christened, 'Totakacharya,' 'the master of the Totaka metre.' Tulsidas: (1532-1623) From the Sanskrit, 'tulsi' meaning 'basil,' 'das,'

meaning 'servant,' in other words, 'a servant of the basil plant.' He was given this name because of his extreme devotion to the basil plant, a plant that Hindus consider sacred. An Avadhi poet and philosopher, Tulsidas was born in present day Uttar Pradesh. Tulsidas was converted to the path of spirituality by his wife who upbraided him for his attachment to material desires. His most famous work is Ramcharitamanas, a translation of The Ramayan in Avadhi, a dialect of Hindi. He was famously considered as Valmiki's re-incarnation. Udanka: From the Sanskrit, meaning 'the blemishless one.' It was a name Adi Sankara gave to one of his disciples after he cured him of leprosy. Upanayana: This is a traditional 'rite of passage' Hindu ceremony. It is often loosely translated as the 'sacred thread ceremony.' The ceremony involves 'yagnopavitam,' 'wearing the sacred thread,' after 'brahmaopadesha,' or 'knowledge of the nature of Brahma,' is given to the boys and the Gayatri mantra is taught to them. The ceremony of upanayana is performed on young boys of the Brahmin, Kshatriya and Vaishya castes, to qualify them for the first stage of their life as a Hindu - the Brahmacharya or student phase. Upanishads: From the Sanskrit to mean 'sitting down beside,' the Upanishads, are literally texts learnt at the feet of the master. These texts are part of the Vedas and were transmitted orally. Some of the older Upanishads were in prose, though some of the later works, in poetry. While there were supposed to be almost 108 Upanishads, only eleven of then were chosen by Adi Sankara to comment upon and these have been known as the 'mukya' (main) Upanishads. The fundamental teachings of the Upanishads revolve around the essential identity of the Atman (the individual soul) with the Paramatman (the universal soul) and the nature of the Paramatman as constituting peace, light and understanding and its reflection in every individual soul. Vairagya Shataka: From the Sanskrit, 'vairagya' meaning 'renunciation,' 'shataka,' meaning 'hundred.' These are a hundred verses on renunciation written by King Bhartrihari of Ujjain, whose dates are doubtfully given as 1st century B.C. Vaishnavite: A practitioner of Vaishnavism. Vaishnavism is one of the oldest schools of Hindu thought and is concerned with the worship of Lord Vishnu. They are distinguished by the sacred mark on their forehead, which is a sign of Narayana's feet. For the Vaishnavite, Vishnu or Narayana is the Supreme God. All his manifestations as the ten avataras are sacred, especially Narasimha, Rama and Krishna. Lord Vishnu is worshipped by surrendering at his lotus feet and requesting him for his mercy. Vaishnavites practise either

the dvaita or the vishishta advaita school of thought. Valmiki: From the Sanskrit, 'valmik,' literally meaning 'an ant-hill.' This was because of an ant-hill that grew around Ratnakar, Valmiki's original name, as he repeated the holy sound Rama. Initially a thief, Ratnakar was asked to repeat the holy name for salvation. All he could say was Mara, (kill) till in deep meditation the word became Rama. But no-one knows how far this legend is true. All that is known is that he was the author of the first poem, or Adi kavya, The Ramayana, and was therefore called the Adi Kavi or 'the first poet.' Vamana: Born to Sage Kashyapa and Aditi, Vamana was the twelfth aditya (solar deity). Vamana is often perceived as the younger brother of Lord Indra, whose rule over the heavens was abruptly ended when King Mahabali, an asura overthrew him. To control the king's influence, Vishnu took birth as the dwarf Vamana, in his fifth manifestation, demanding three feet of earth from the ever- munificent Mahabali. When his wish was granted, Vamana conquered the earth with one foot, the heavens with the other, and crushed Mahabali with the third. Vandanam: From the Sanskrit meaning, 'prayer' or 'surrender.' It is considered one of the means of devotional service a devotee renders the lord, along with 'bhajan,' and 'sravanam.' Varanas: From the Sanskrit 'varn' meaning 'colour.' Hinduism categorizes human society into four 'varanas,' according to the body parts of the Paramatma from whom they were created. This helps define the group's social standing. The Brahmins issued from Paramatma's mouth, and so they became the priests. The Kshatriyas came from his arms and so became warriors, the Vaishyas from his thighs and they became the merchants and the Shudras from his legs and so they served society. It must be remembered that caste was not birth-based initially but more nature and quality based, and certainly did not categorize anyone as superior or inferior. They were merely divisions of labour. Varkari: The 'varkari sampraday' (sect) is so called because the followers consider it essential to visit Pandharpur (the seat of the temple of Vittala) at least twice a year, on the two Ekadashis, in the Hindu calendar months of Ashadh (sometime in August) and Kartik (sometime in November). This pilgrimage is called vari in Marathi and thus one who performs it in the path of devotion, i.e. the Bhakti Marga is a varkari. The Varkari sect made an all-pervading impact on the life of the common people for six hundred years (from 13th century to 18th century). The Varkaris worshipped Vittala or Vithoba, the presiding deity of Pandharpur who is considered the same as Shri Krishna.

Vasudeva: Son of Surasena of the Yadava dynasty, Vasudeva was best known as the husband of Devaki and father of Lord Shri Krishna. By his wife Rohini, he had another son Balarama. Out of fear of death from the hands of Vasudeva's eighth son, Kamsa kept his sister Devaki and Vasudeva in prison, till the birth of Krishna. Vasudeva is known in mythology for his virtuous character and unimpeachable integrity. Krishna derives his name Vaasudeva, (son of Vasudeva) from him. Vedanta: It is a school of philosophy in Hinduism dealing with the nature of reality. The word comes from 'veda,' which is 'knowledge,' and 'anta' which is 'end,' in other words, 'the culmination of knowledge.' Vedanta is called 'uttara mimansa,' (higher knowledge) dealing with the Aranyakas (forest scriptures) and the Upanishads. This is set against the 'purva mimansa' (the former knowledge) which deals with Vedic sacrifices and mantras. The Vedanta Sutra (also called The Brahma Sutra) systematized the Vedantic teaching, which believed in the reality of Brahman, the illusory nature of all material things and the need to unite with our true nature which is atman. Vedas, The: The Vedas are a corpus of texts originating in ancient India. Literally the word means 'knowledge.' They are the oldest known sacred texts in Sanskrit. The Vedas are considered 'apauruseya,' (not of human composition), but a direct revelation of divine origin. These religious hymns are divided into four books, The Rig Veda, (hymns in praise of deities) The Yajur Veda (sacrificial hymns), The Atharva Veda (hymns relating to spells and incantations), and The Sama Veda (hymns to be sung). Veda Vyasa: Literally Vyasa means 'splitter,' and Vedas, the sacred Hindu texts, in other words, 'the splitter, or codifier of the Vedas.' He is an important and much revered figure in Hindu tradition and its literature. He is considered the author of The Mahabharata, as well as the writer of the 18 major Puranas. He is the quintessential Brahmarishi, the highest in the order of sages, who are classified as Brahmarishis, Maharishis and Rajarishis. Vibheeshana: Literally means 'terrifying.' He was the younger brother of the rakshasa, Ravana, but refused to behave like one. Good- natured and pious, he was most upset when Ravana abducted Sita. On Shiva's advice, he took refuge at Rama's feet, and on Rama's victory over Ravana, was made the king of Sri Lanka. Vishnu: Literally, the 'all-pervading One.' Originally probably the Sun God, Vishnu is seen as striding the universe in three paces - sunrise, noon and sunset. He is also known as Narayana, 'the mover on the waters,' reflecting his reclining position on the Seshnag, the serpant, with Brahma sitting on a lotus, emerging from his navel.

He is generally depicted with four hands, holding his Shankha (conch), his Sudarshan (disc), his Kaumodaki (a mace), and his Padma (lotus). He also owns a bow named Shaaranga, a sword called Nandaka and a famous jewel called Kaustubha. Whenever the earth is in distress, Vishnu comes down as an avatara to rescue mankind and to establish dharma. Benevolent and merciful, Vishnu, the dark One, is the preserver of the earth, which has been created in beauty and wonder out of the material of his own body. He is Omniscient, Omnipotent, Infinite, Infallible Perfection. At all times, constantly by his side is his consort, Lakshmi, the beautous Shakti. Vishnu Purana: The Vishnu Purana contains some 23,000 shlokas or verses, presented as a dialogue between Sage Parasara and his disciple, Maitreya. It is divided into six parts, of which the third deals with the Maha Avatara (great manifestation) of Lord Vishnu. Vishnu Sahasranama: Literally 'the thousand names of Vishnu,' contains a thousand names by which Lord Vishnu is known, according to his diverse attributes. It is one of the most revered texts of the Vaishnavites. In The Mahabharata, as Bheeshma Pitamaha lay on his bed of arrows, Yudhistira approaches him with a question, 'Who is the God who can redeem our souls?' The answer Bheeshma Pitamaha gives is in the form of the Vishnu Sahasranama. A meditation on the names mentioned in the Sahasranama is supposed to lead man to moksha. Vishwamitra: He is one of the most venerated sages of Hinduism. He was a kshatriya, King Kaushika of the warrior clan, by birth, but transcended this state to become a Brahmin with his hard penance. He is renowned for his creation of The Gayatri Mantra. He was also the teacher of Shri Rama, when he was a youth. Vishweshvara: From the Sanskrit, 'vishwa' meaning 'world,' and 'ishvara,' meaning 'God.' The word means, 'God of the whole world.' It is a term used to describe Lord Shiva. Vittala: Literally 'one who stands on a brick,' another name for Shri Krishna. When Shri Krishna showered his grace upon his devotee Pundalik, by appearing before him, Pundalik was busy serving his parents. Not wanting to be disturbed, he threw a brick for the Lord to stand on. Impressed with his devotion, the Lord transformed himself into a statue, on a brick, that is even today housed in the temple at Pandharpur, Maharashtra, where he is also known as Vithoba or Panduranga. Vraja: The eternal place of Lord Krishna's pastimes with the cowherds, manifested on earth in the district of Mathura. Vyavaharika Satta: 'Relative reality.'The world, as we see it, according to Adi Sankara's doctrine of advaita, is 'apparently real,'

unlike the Paramatma who is paramarthika satta, i.e. the Absolute Reality. Yaksha: In Hindu myth, yakshas are semi-divine beings, half god and half demon. They live under the earth in the Himalayas where they guard the wealth of the earth (gems, gold, silver, etc.). They are led by Kubera, the god of wealth. Like their leader, they all have fat bellies and plump legs. They have no special characteristics, are not violent, and are therefore called punyajana ("good beings"). Kubera's epithet is Punyajaneshvara. Yama: The king of Death, Yama literally means a twin. Thus he is always paired with Yamuna, or Yami who is visualized as his sister or alternatively, his wife. Yamaloka is in the extreme south, which is where the first twins, travelled after their death, laying the path for all other mortals. Yama is the son of the Sun God, and guardian of all directions. He is represented in red skin or clothes, riding a water buffalo, with a noose in his hands, with which he pulls the soul out from the body. His overlord is Shiva, the destroyer. In Hindu myths, Yama is wise, just and always perceptive. Yantras: Yantra is derived from the Sanskrit root meaning 'to curb' or 'to restrain.' It is a geometrical figure inscribed on a metallic plate or paper, and is the confluence of the power of the concerned God. It is believed that when a 'mantra' (prayer) is chanted according to the proper 'tantra' (systematic method), the sound vibrations gather force from the 'yantra'(symbolic representation) and reflecting from its surface reaches the concerned God, after which it brings His blessing down on the performer of the ritual. Yashoda: Krishna's mother. Her name is from the Sanskrit 'yash' meaning 'fame' and 'da,' meaning 'bestower.' She is one who bestows fame to the cowherd community to which she belongs. The Puranas depict Yashoda as the cowherd chieftain Nanda's wife and Krishna's foster mother. Yashoda also looked after Balarama, Vasudeva's son by Rohini, his second wife. Yogi: Practioner of yoga. Yoga coming from the Sanskrit, 'yuj' 'to yoke,' in a method by which an individual's consciousness was yoked to that of the Divine. It is also considered a stage in spiritual progress when a practioner ceases to be a 'bhogi,' 'an enjoyer of the senses' and becomes a 'yogi,' 'one who maintains restraint or discipline.' This will lead to the next stage of a 'sanyasi,' who is 'a renunciate.' Yudhishtira: Eldest of the Pandavas. Born of the God of Justice, Dharma and Kunti, he was still considered King Pandu's son, as King Pandu himself could not procure children. He was seen in the epic The Mahabharata to be the epitome of a just man and so it was believed his chariot always rode a little above the ground.

Even in death he displayed commendable loyalty, refusing to enter heaven without his brothers or his dog. After the Mahabharatha war, he ruled the kingdom of Hastinapur. Yukti: It means an analytical understanding of the scriptures through the use of intelligence, so that the logic of the philosophical base of scriptural thought appeals to the mind. This is at the other extreme from faith and devotion. Zen: Zen is the Japanese name of a well-known branch of Mahayana Buddhist schools, practiced originally in India as dhyan. According to traditional accounts, Zen was founded in China by an Indian Buddhist monk, Bodhidharma. At the same time, Zen's emphasis on directly seeing into one's nature as well as its technique of meditation, has kept it lively and at the edge of tradition. This openness has allowed non-Buddhists to practice Zen, especially outside of Asia.

About the Author

Chandrika is primarily a seeker. Her post-graduate degree in English Literature armed her with a deep love of the language and a desire to communicate this to others. And thus started a career in teaching in institutions across the city of Mumbai like Sophia and St. Xavier's College. Simultaneously she began writing articles, which were published in newspapers and periodicals in Mumbai.

Her interest in educating children soon took her outside the classroom, into a more creative space, where she experimented with both method and content, through the medium of workshops. This resulted in her first book, Exercises in Education to Creativity, published by Don Bosco's Tej Prasarini. For seven years to provide wholesome reading material to children, she brought out a monthly periodical, Nurture.

Her spiritual quest has culminated in a staunch belief in the intrinsic joy of living and a deep trust in the profound truth of scriptural texts. An avid collector of and believer in the power of stories, she has recently translated Atma Siddhi, from the original Gujarati, an enlivening discourse on the journey of the soul by the Jain saint, Srimad Rajchandraji. Armed with curiosity and enthusiasm, excited by the intellectual vigour of spiritual discourse and stirred by its sublime stillness, her journey continues ...

F About Adi Sankaracharya n

"It is impossible to read Sankara's writings, "Sankaracharya chose the four corners of packed as they are with serious and subtle thinking, without being conscious that one India for bis muttas, or the headquarters

is in contact with a mind of very fine of bis order of sanyasins, which shows bow he regarded India as a cultural unit. And penetration and profound spirituality ... The rays of his genius bave illumined the dark the great success which met his campaign all

places of thought and soothed the sorrows of over the country in a very short time also

the most forlorn heart. He is a philosopher shows bow intellectual and cultural currents travelled rapidly from one end of the country and a poet, a savant and a saint. a mystic to another." and a religious reformer. There have been few minds more universal than this" Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru

Dr. Radhakrishnan "Western people can hardly imagine a personality like that of Sankaracharya. We "In his short life of thirty-two years Sankara contemplate with wonder and delight, the achieved that union of sage and saint, of devotion of Francis of Assisi, the intellect wisdom and kindliness, which characterizes of Abelard, the virile force and freedom of the loftiest type of man produced in India." Martin Luther, and the political efficiency

Will Durant of Ignatius Loyola. But who could imagine

American philosopher all this united in one person?" Sister Nivedita Swami Vivekanand's chief disciple

About Bhaja Govindam

"Bhaja Govindam is one of the "Sri Sankara bas packed into the Bhaja seemingly smaller but, in fact, extremely important works of Adi Sankara. It not Govindam song, the substance of all the

only indicates to the students the goal Vedantic works that be wrote and he bas

and the path, but also reveals unto bim set the truth of the union of devotion and

the wretchedness of his present way of knowledge to melodions music which

life ... and the dire consequences that delights every car." await bim if be continues to pursue the C. Rajagopalachari path of ego and desire." Swami Chinmayananda

FS Vakils, Feffer & Simons Pvt. Ltd.

Table of Contents

Title Copyright Dedication Contents Preface The Life of Adi Sankara Adi Sankara's Contribution to Hinduism Sankara's Literary Achievement Bhaja Govindam - Meaning and Message Publisher's Note Verse 1 Verse 2 Verse 3 Verse 4 Verse 5 Verse 6 Verse 7 Verse 8 Verse 9 Verse 10 Verse 11 Verse 12 Verse 13 Verse 14 Verse 15 Verse 16 Verse 17 Verse 18 Verse 19 Verse 20 Verse 21 Verse 22 Verse 23 Verse 24 Verse 25 Verse 26 Verse 27 Verse 28 Verse 29 Verse 30 Verse 31

The Relevance of Bhaja Govindam, Today Bibliography Glossary