Rightly, O Hrishîkesha, the world rejoices and is enraptured with your praise. The Rakshasas flee terrified in [all] directions, and all the hosts of adepts salute [you].18 (36)
And why should they not salute [you], O Great Self, [you who are] greater even than Brahma, the primal Creator (âdi-kartri)? O infinite Lord of the Gods, World-Abode, you are the Imperishable, existence (sat) and nonexistence (asat) and what is beyond that. (37)
You are the primal God (âdi-deva), the ancient Person (purusha). You are the supreme Treasure-Store of all this. You are the knower and the known and the supreme Abode. By you all this is spread out, O infinite Form! (38)
You are Vâyu, Yama, Agni, Varuna, Shashânka. and Prajâpati the grandsire.19 Salutation, salutation be to you, a thousandfold; and again and again salutation, salutation to you! (39)
Salutation to you from in front and from behind! Salutation to you from all round. O All! Endless your strength, immeasurable [your] might (vikrama). You complete all,. hence you are all. (40)
Ignorant of this your majesty, through my heedlessness (pramâda), or perhaps through fondness and thinking importunately [that you are my] friend, I rashly said. “Hey Krishna! Hey Yâdava! Hey friend!” (41)
and in jest [showed] disrespect to you, while at play, reposing, sitting, or eating when alone or in the company [of others]—for that. O Acyuta, I beg forgiveness from you, the Unfathomable! (42)
You are the father of the world, [containing] moving and unmoving [things]. You are its object-of- worship (pûjya) and [its] venerable teacher. None is equal to you—how could there be [anything] greater in the triple world, O matchless Splendor? (43)
Therefore bowing down and bending low [my] body, I seek your grace (prasâda), O praiseworthy Lord. You should bear [with me], O God, as a father with a son, as a friend with a friend, or a lover with a beloved. (44)
I am thrilled at having seen what has not been seen before. But my mind is distressed with fear. [Therefore], O God, show me that [human] form [of yours]. Be gracious, O Lord of the Gods, World- Home! (45)
I wish to see you even as [before], [with your] crown, the mace, and the discus in hand. Assume that four-armed form [of yours], O thousand-armed All-Form! (46)
The Blessed Lord said:
Out of My kindness (prasanna) for you, O Arjuna, I have revealed this supreme Form by [My] Self’s Yoga—which brilliant, all[-embracing], endless, and primeval (âdya] [Form] of Mine has not been seen before you by anyone. (47)
Neither by the Vedas, sacrifices, or study (adhyâya), nor by gifts, nor by rites (kriyâ), nor by fierce penance (tapas) can I be seen thus-formed in the world of men by anyone [but] you, O heroic foe (pravîra) of the Kurus! (48)
You [need] not tremble. Do not [succumb to] a bewildered state at seeing this terrible Form of Mine. Free from fear (bhî) and glad minded, you [can] behold again this My [familiar physical] form, that very [form which you know so well]. (49)
Samjaya [the narrator) said:
Having thus spoken to Arjuna. Vasudeva revealed again his [human] form, and having assumed again his pleasant [human] body, the Great Self comforted the terrified [Prince Arjuna], (50)
Arjuna said:
Beholding [again] this pleasant human form of yours, O Janârdana,20 I have now recovered my natural consciousness. (51)
The Blessed Lord said:
This Form of Mine, which you have seen, is very difficult to see. Even the Gods are forever eager to [be granted a] vision of this Form. (52)
In the way in which you have seen Me, I cannot be seen by [means of] the Vedas, nor by penance, nor by gifts, nor by sacrifice. (53)
But, O Arjuna, by love [directed to] no other, I can be seen and known in this way, and entered into in reality, O Paramtapa.21 (54)
He who does My work, intent on Me, devoted to Me, free from attachment, without enmity toward all beings—he comes to Me, O Pândava! (55)
V. THE YOGIC TEACHINGS OF THE ANU-GÎT
The Anu-Gîtâ (“After-Song”), found in the Mahâbhârata (14.16-50), is the earliest imitation of the Bhagavad-Gîtâ of which we have knowledge. “Imitation,” however, is perhaps the wrong word, because it is more than a mere echo of the Lord’s Song. It is intended to recapitulate the teachings given by Lord Krishna to Prince Arjuna just before the commencement of the first battle between the Pândavas and the Kauravas. After the last battle was fought and the war was won, Arjuna asked his divine teacher, the God-man Krishna, to repeat the teachings of the Bhagavad-Gîtâ. The Anu-Gîtâ is Krishna’s response to this request.
There are a number of other “imitation” Gîtâs from various periods, but none claims to be a direct recapitulation of Krishna’s original song of instruction as does the Anu-Gîtâ.
Before giving his priceless teachings again to Prince Arjuna, Krishna rebuked his disciple for forgetting the original instructions. But Arjuna may easily be excused for this failing, given the fact that when the Bhagavad-Gîtâ’s wisdom was imparted to him he was in a state of dejection from having seen his friends and teachers among the ranks of the enemy.
While there are many parallels between the two Gîtâs, we cannot fail to note the absence of the devotional (bhakti) element in the Anu-Gîtâ. Instead this text emphasizes the element of gnosis (jnâna), with the Absolute (brahman) as the highest goal of human aspiration— not divine communion with Lord Krishna. It appears that the Anu- Gîtâ is an early attempt to downplay the devotionalism of Krishna’s teachings—a tendency continued forcefully by Shankara, the chief proponent of Advaita Vedânta and its Jnâna-Yoga.
VI. THE LIBERATING GOSPEL OF THE EPIC—THE MOKSHA- DHARMA
Next to the Bhagavad-Gîtâ and the Anu-Gîtâ, the most significant materials on Yoga in the Mahâbhârata are found in the Moksha-Dharma section, which comprises Chapters 168-353 of the twelfth book of the epic. Here several related but not always consonant traditions are given voice. Besides the orthodox brahman- ical schools represented by Vedânta, we encounter several other traditions, notably the Pancarâtra religion (an early form of Vaishnavism), the Pâshupata religion (a form of Shaivism), Pre-Classical Sâmkhya, and Pre- Classical Yoga. These teachings have sometimes been looked upon as being merely a corrupt doctrinal jumble crafted onto the nondualist metaphysics of Vedânta, but nothing could be further from the truth.
The liberation gospels present in the Moksha- Dharma give us important clues especially about Sâmkhya and Yoga in their “epic” forms, prior to their systematizations at the hands of Îshvara Krishna (c. 350-400 C.E.) and Patanjali (c. 200 C.E.) respectively. What emerges from a careful study of the Moksha- Dharma is, the great similarities between Sâmkhya and Yoga notwithstanding, that these two traditions were already distinct and independent developments at the time of the final composition of the Mahâbhârata. This is epitomized in the following statement:
The method of the yogas [i.e., yogins] is perception, [whereas] for the sâmkhyas it is scriptural tradition. (12.289.7)
“These are not the same,” as the epic affirms two verses later. The distinction made here is between the pragmatic-experimental approach of the yogins (called yogas), and the reliance on traditional revelation (accompanied by rational inquiry into the nature of human existence) that typifies the followers of Sâmkhya. But Epic or Pre-Classical Yoga is not characterized simply by practice, nor Sâmkhya only by theory. Both traditions have their own specific theoretical framework and psychotechnology.
Pre-Classical Sâmkhya arose out of the Upanishadic speculations about the levels of existence and consciousness as they were disclosed in the penetrating meditations of the sages. But by the time of the Moksha- Dharma, Sâmkhya and Vedânta had become distinct traditions. Like some schools of Vedânta, however, Pre- Classical Sâmkhya espoused a form of nondualism. This is also true of the epic schools of Yoga. What distinguishes epic Sâmkhya and Yoga from their classical formulations is, above all, their theistic orientation. The atheism of Classical Sâmkhya and the curious theism of Classical Yoga must be u
nderstood as deviations from a strongly theistic base, reflected in the Upanishads.
The reason for this shift away from the original panentheism of Sâmkhya and Yoga was a felt need to respond to the challenge of such vigorously analytical traditions as Buddhism by systematizing both Sâmkhya and Yoga along rationalistic philosophical lines. In both cases, this effort led to a metaphysical dualism that is barely convincing and that limps behind the nondualist interpretations of Vedânta.
There were important differences between the epic schools of Sâmkhya and Yoga on metaphysical-theological matters. The epic Sâmkhya teachers maintained that there is an essential identity between the individuated or empirical self, called budhyamâna or jîva, and the universal Self, called buddha or âtman. By contrast, the Yoga tradition asserted that there is more of a rift between the transcendental Self and the many empirical selves or ego-personal- ities. Also, according to the adepts of Yoga there is a supreme Being, or Divinity, above the collective of transcendental Selves. In comparison with that absolute Being, which is known as the “awakened” (buddha) principle, or as “Lord” (îshvara), even the liberated beings are still unenlightened or unawakened (abuddhimat). Thus, the epic yogins allowed twenty-six fundamental categories of existence, called “principles” (tattva), whereas the Sâmkhya followers allowed only twenty-five. These ontological principles will be discussed in Chapter 10.
The epic schools of Sâmkhya and Yoga gave rise to Sâmkhya-Yoga syncretism. For the historian of Indian philosophy and spirituality these developments, which have for so long been misunderstood, form one of the more exciting areas of inquiry. For the student of Yoga, it is important to know that Patanjali’s Yoga-Sûtra was preceded by centuries of lively experimentation and thought about the great matter of self-transcendence. Patanjali’s work, impressive as it is as a concise statement of Yoga philosophy and practice, scarcely betokens the immense ingenuity and spiritual creativity on which it was built.
When we read the Moksha-Dharma, we encounter all kinds of more or less elaborate and more or less abstruse teachings. In terms of actual practice, the Yoga authorities who make their appearance in the epic insist on solid moral foundations. They demand such virtues as truthfulness, humility, nonpossessiveness, nonviolence, forgiveness, and compassion, which also form the bedrock of later Yoga.
Lust, anger, greed, and fear are frequently listed as the yogin’s greatest enemies. There are also references to dreaming and sleep, infatuation and “mental diarrhea” (bhrama), as well as doubt and discontent, which are all deemed to be severe obstacles on the spiritual road. Another considerable obstruction is said to be the powers, called siddhis or vibhûtis, that can distract the yogin from his real concern, which is to transcend the self, or ego-personality. These powers are a natural by-product of the yogin’s meditation practice. Yet, as Patanjali observes in his Yoga-Sûtra (3.37), they are accomplishments only from the point of view of the egoic consciousness. Their exercise prevents the ecstatic state (samâdhi) precisely because the deployment of these powers presupposes that we pay attention to the external world and its affairs. This, in turn, means that we reinforce the habit of assuming that we are ego- personalities rather than the transcendental Self.
The Moksha-Dharma teachers also provide useful instructions about right diet and fasting, as well as suitable environments for yogic practice. They also knew of the value of breath control (prânâyâma) and distinguished between the five types of life force (prâna) circulating in the body. Breath control prepares the mind for the next stage of the process of gradual introversion, which is the withdrawal (pratyâhâra) of the senses from the external world.
Most schools of Pre-Classical Yoga subscribe to what the Moksha-Dharma calls nirodha-yoga, the “Yoga of cessation.” This approach consists in the progressive disowning of the contents of consciousness—from sensations, to thoughts, to higher experiences—until the transcendental Self shines forth in its full glory. Thus, sensory inhibition, concentration, and meditation are considered the primary means of Yoga. In one section (12.188.15ff.), several degrees of meditation are distinguished that remind one of Patanjali’s terminology. Thus, Bhîshma, who is not only a heroic warrior but also a wisdom teacher, speaks of the meditation stages of vitarka (thinking), vicâra (subtle reflection), and viveka (differentiation), though without explaining them further. These stages are called codanâ, since they “impel” the mind to become absorbed in the objectless condition. The yogin who is successful at nirodha-yoga enters the state of complete inner stillness, “windlessness” (nirvâna), which is accompanied by the total absence of sensory input. The body of such a yogin is said to appear to others like a stone pillar.
Another type of Yoga discussed in the Moksha-Dharma is known as jnâna-dipti-yoga, the “Yoga of the effulgence of wisdom.” It consists in prolonged concentration upon progressively more subtle objects. For instance, a person may first fix attention on one of the five material elements, followed by concentration on the mind (manas) or the higher mind (buddhi). Or a yogin may start out by concentrating on different points in the body, such as the heart, the navel, or the head, and subsequently on the Self itself. These concentration practices are called dhâranâ.
In one passage, Yoga is likened to a faultless jewel that first gathers in and then emits the bright light of the sun. The sun, of course, is a universal symbol for the Self, which is experienced as a dazzling effulgence. This metaphor describes well the essential yogic process of concentration. Dhâranâ gathers in the “rays” or whirls of the mind, and focuses them on the Self within, until the radiance of the Self becomes manifest in the state of ecstasy (samâdhi) and transforms the yogin’s entire being.
The fact that such teachings came to be included in the Mahâbhârata demonstrates their immense popularity during the period under review. In the centuries around the time of the Buddha and certainly prior to the beginning of the Christian calendar, Yoga had manifestly become a vociferous contender in the philosophical and spiritual arena of Hinduism. It was only a matter of time before an educated adept of Yoga would create a work of lasting success in which the philosophy and practice of Hindu Yoga was coherently formulated. That work was the Yoga-Sûtra of Patanjali to which we will turn in Chapter 9.
SOURCE READING 11
Moksha-Dharma (Selection)
The following two chapters from the Moksha-Dharma are in the form of a dialogue between Bhîshma and his royal pupil Yudhishthira. The first excerpt explains in some detail the impact of the three qualities (guna) of Nature—sattva, rajas, and tamas—upon the human mind. According to the ontological theory expounded here, these three qualities are the product of the wisdom faculty (buddhî), which is the first evolute of Nature (prakritti). Beyond the wisdom faculty, or higher mind, is the immovable eternal Witness, here called the Field-Knower (kshetra-jna), which is none other than the transcendental Self.
The second excerpt considers the practice of meditation (dhyâna), though the consideration extends only to the first of four stages. In verse 15, reflection (vicâra), thinking (vitarka), and differentiation (viveka) are listed as components of the first stage. This reminds one of the elements of vicâra and vitarka in the state of conscious ecstasy (samprajnâta-samâdhi) mentioned in Patanjali s Yoga-Sûtra (1.43-44).
The state of perfection (siddhi) to which this fourfold Yoga of meditation is said to lead is also called extinction (nirvâna)—a term we encounter also in the Bhagavad-Gîtâ (2.72; V.26). It is explained indirectly in verse 6.19 of the Gîtâ: “As a lamp standing in a windless (nivâta) [place] flickers not—that simile is recalled (when) a yogin of yoked mind (citta) practices the Yoga of the self.” The term nirvâna, usually translated as “extinction.” stems from the verbal root vâ (“to blow”), of which the past participle is vâta. The prefix nis (changed into nir before vâna) corresponds to the Latin prefix ex (“out”). The term nirvâna is well known from the Buddhist scriptures and has been cited by scholars as evidence that the Gîtâ and the Moksha-Dh
arma are post-Buddhist works. Yet, it is just as likely that the Buddha borrowed this word from already existing philosophical vocabulary.
12.187
Yudhishthira said:
Tell me. O grandsire, what is that which is named the deep Self (adhyâtman), which is considered the Self (purusha)? What is the inmost self and of what [nature] is it? (1)
Bhîshma said:
That deep Self that you ask me about. O Pârtha, I shall explain to you, O friend, as the most beatific joy (sukha). (2)
Having known that, a person finds delight (prîti) and joyousness (saukhya) in the world and obtains the fruit [thereof], which is benevolence toward all beings. (3)
Earth, wind, ether, water, and light are great elements, [which are] the origin and the end of all beings. (4)
From that [conglomerate of elements] these [beings] have been created and into that they return again and again—the great elements in beings are like the waves of the ocean. (5)
As a tortoise after extending its limbs retracts them again—similarly the elemental self (bhûta-âtman),22 having created [all] beings, withdraws them again. (6)
The Creator of beings fashioned the five great elements in all beings, but the individual (jîva) does not see the differences in them. (7)
Sound, hearing, and the ears—[this is] the triad born from the womb of ether. From the air [come] skin, touch, and motion as well as speech as the fourth. (8)
Form, eye, and digestion are called the triple fire. Taste, moisture, and tongue are known as the three qualities of water. (9)
Scent, nose, and body—these are the three qualities of earth. The great elements are five. The mind (manas) is said to be the sixth. (10)
The senses and the mind, O Bhârata, are one’s [means of] cognition (vijnâna). The seventh is said to be the wisdom faculty (buddhi). Furthermore, the Field-Knower (kshetra-jna) (i.e., the Self] is the eighth. (11)
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