by Roopa Pai
***The Self, or Atman, is often sweetly described as the ‘thumb-sized Being’. Perhaps the sages reckoned that if the Self had to reside in the heart, it should logically be of a size that fits in it. Metaphysics was all very well, but sometimes things had to be anatomically correct too, what? Unlike with some other religions, Hinduism has never been in conflict with science, considering scientific theories as just one more way of looking at the world, so this isn’t such an outlandish theory.
BACK TO NACHIKETA
Did you think it was a bit odd that Nachiketa dropped off in the middle of the Upanishad? Never fear, he returns triumphantly, right after the bit about Etad vai tat, to conclude the Upanishad.
Thus did Nachiketa, having gained this knowledge from Death himself, conquer death and gain everlasting life. And so may every other who realizes this truth, and knows his inner Self thus, be free.
Aum Shantih Shantih Shantih ||
THE AFTERSTORY
It’s interesting to note that the main protagonist in the Kathopanishad is not a wise sage or one of the gods, but a teenager. Could it be that the composer of the Katha, having taught a bunch of teenagers himself, or perhaps having raised a couple of his own, realized that none but a teenager would be as disgusted at a beloved parent’s hypocrisy as Nachiketa was? Or be so determined to establish his own identity that he would undertake as risky and unprecedented an adventure as a visit to the abode of Death? Or have the sheer chutzpah, when he got there, to ask Death so many difficult questions, confident that he would eventually be returned to the world of the living?
It is a likely theory. And whether true or not, it holds a lesson for all teens and almost-teens – Be like Nachiketa. Ask the difficult questions. Shake up complacency. Question tradition. Challenge authority respectfully. Undertake rigorous journeys – sticking to a tough exercise routine, going at calculus until you’ve cracked it, training for a half-marathon, learning a new language. Bring fresh eyes and minds and perspectives to existing social structures and practices, and back it up with the hard work and the sacrifices needed to pull them down or make them better.
It’s in your young, powerful hands to fulfil your potential and make the world a better, fairer, kinder place. Go for it!
१२
PRASHNA
The Upanishad of the Peepul Tree Sage
In which six questions go in search of a teacher
Aum!
Ye gods, bless us
That we may hear words that are pleasant
And see things that are blessed,
That we may live our lives in ways that nourish you.
O great Indra, O All-Knowing Poosha,
O Garuda, destroyer of evil, O great teacher Brihaspati,
Take care of us, blessed ones!
Aum Shaantih Shaantih Shaantih ||
THE BACKSTORY
Once upon a time, there was a great war between the Devas and the Asuras. Vritra, the fearsome serpent demon whose favourite pastime was to block rivers and cause drought on earth, was in the ascendant, and Indra and his Devas were routed. As was usual, Indra ran to Vishnu for help, for Vritra had sucked up all of the earth’s water and humans were dying like flies. ‘There is only one weapon, Vajra the thunderbolt, that is powerful enough to destroy Vritra,’ said Vishnu. ‘Unfortunately, it must be fashioned out of the bones of the sage Dadhichi.’
Never one to be cowed by awkward tasks, even when they involved asking someone to consider giving up his life so that he, Indra, may win back his kingdom, Indra went straight to Dadhichi (who, by the by, was the son of sage Atharvan, the composer of the Atharva Veda). The selfless sage agreed to his request immediately, becoming the ultimate poster boy for the Big Idea that no individual sacrifice is too great when it comes to protecting the good against the forces of evil. In the war that followed, the Vajra, which would go on to become Indra’s signature weapon, crushed Vritra and his hordes, returning peace and joy to the three worlds.*
*This particular story is one that India, and especially the Indian Armed Forces, has taken deeply to heart. The Param Vir Chakra, India’s highest gallantry award, features the four-lion capital surrounded by four replicas of – hold your breath – Indra’s Vajra, equating the sacrifice of the medal winner (the PVC has almost always been awarded posthumously) with Dadhichi’s own. Here’s another bit of cool trivia - the medal was designed not by an Indian but by Hungarian-Russian designer Yvonne Maday de Maros, who ran away to India as a nineteen-year-old to marry army officer Vikram Khanolkar. She fell so in love with India that she changed her name to Savitri Bai Khanolkar, became an Indian citizen and eventually ended up designing not just the PVC but also the other medals for gallantry – the Maha Vir Chakra, the Vir Chakra and the Ashoka Chakra. After her husband’s retirement and death, Savitri Bai became a nun at the Ramakrishna Mission, where she remained until her own death in 1990. Now you know.
Now, while making the snap decision to donate his bones, Dadhichi had overlooked one tiny detail – he hadn’t bothered to inform his pregnant wife Swarcha of this. When Swarcha found out that her husband was dead, she was so distraught that she committed suicide, but not before she had – the following content may be disturbing to young audiences – ripped open her womb with a rock and deposited the foetus under a peepul tree. Her sister-in-law, i.e., Dadhichi’s sister, Dudhimati, took charge of the infant and nourished him on a steady diet of peepul leaves and the life-giving amrit that the moon had kindly thought to drop off. The boy, who Dudhimati named Pippalada after the peepul tree under which his mother had left him, grew up to become one of ancient India’s most revered sages.
And we are telling this story because? Because it was this very Pippalada (he of the severely traumatic childhood) who is – ta-daa! – immortalized in the Prashna Upanishad!
The Prashna Upanishad – also known as the Prashnopanishad – is part of the Atharva Veda. It was most likely composed after 400 BCE, which makes it ‘newer’ than, say, the Kena and the Katha.
Prashna, as every child who has ever written a Hindi or Sanskrit exam knows, means question, and the Prashnopanishad is a straight-forward account of six questions that were asked to the sage Pippalada, and his answers to them (which is why this Upanishad is sometimes also called the Shat Prashna – or Six- Question – Upanishad).
The six questions address a wide range of concerns, from the universal – How did life begin? – to the specific – What are the functions of the five breaths in the body (yup, according to the Upanishads there are five, not one; tell that to your biology teacher!)? When I am asleep, who watches my dreams (never thought about that – good question!)?
Here is a quick look at the six questions, and Pippalada’s responses.
THE STORY
Once, in days long past, six men – called Sukesha, Satyakama, Gargya, Kausalya, Bhargava and Kabandhi – who were all true seekers of Brahman and had spent most of their lives engaged in austerities and contemplation, decided to visit the great sage Pippalada. They had all, you see, reached a plateau in their spiritual enquiry, and try as they might, were unable to progress to the next level. Realizing that they needed a guru to answer the questions that plagued them, they went to meet Pippalada, carrying fuel for sacrifice, as it was customary for students to do.*
*Whenever students went to start instruction with a teacher, the practice was to take with them a load of firewood, which would be used as fuel in the sacrifices the teacher performed at the gurukul. Metaphorically speaking, however, the firewood symbolized the student’s commitment to the sacrifices that would be demanded of him in the long, hard and lonely path to knowledge.
Pippalada welcomed them warmly. Then he said, ‘Live with me for a year as my students do, practising self-restraint, chastity and faith. At the end of the year, you can ask me your questions, and if I know the answers, I shall most certainly share them with you.’
So the six men lived with Pippalada for a year, doing all the jobs that novice students did. At the end
of the year, they approached him again, and Kabandhi asked his question.
Prashna 1: Where did all the creatures in the world come from?
‘Bhagavan*,’ said Kabandhi, ‘where, truly, do all the creatures in the world come from? Where, indeed, do they take their birth?’
And Pippalada answered: ‘Prajapati, being the Lord of All Creatures, had a desire for creatures, quite naturally. Once, he did great penances, and from the heat generated inside him, produced a pair of twins – rayi (matter), which was female, and prana (energy), which was male – thinking, ‘Now these two will go forth and multiply, producing all manner of creatures for me to enjoy.’ And they did.
‘What is rayi or matter? Everything that has a form is rayi, and so also are things that are formless, like the mind. But matter remains just that – matter – until it is infused with prana, energy. The moon is simply matter, but the sun is prana**, for it is only when the sun rises and illumines the whole world – east and west, north and south – that everything comes alive. It is only when he throws his light on the moon that she comes alive. Verily, Kabandhi, the sun is both the prana of the universe, and Vaishvanara, the spark of life in every creature.
* Say bhaga-vuhn.
**Similarly, the night, when everything is asleep (read: dead) is considered rayi, while the day, when everything is vibrantly alive, is prana. Neither rayi nor prana is complete without the other. It is only when the two – rayi and prana, matter and energy, female and male – come together and become one that life can result.
‘In the cycle of a man’s life, there are two paths available to him – the northern and the southern. Those men who perform rituals and do acts of charity for selfish ends, not recognizing the essence, the prana, in those rituals, are bogged down by rayi, and they take the southern route; they return to the material world, the world of rayi, again and again. But those who seek true knowledge, practising chastity and self-restraint, keeping the faith, they, dear Kabandhi, soar with prana along the northern route, and gain the realms of the fearless, radiant sun, eternal source of all lifebreaths, never to return.’
Prashna 2: Of all the different powers that define an intelligent, engaged living being, which one is the most important?
Then Bhargava asked his question.
‘Bhagavan,’ said Bhargava, ‘who are the gods that support life in the body? Which of them make a being “alive” to everything around itself? And which among them is the greatest?’
And Pippalada answered: ‘The five elements, dear Bhargava – space, earth, fire, water, air – of which the body is made, these are the gods that support the body. But speech and mind, sight and hearing – they are the gods that light up the inanimate body, turning it into a self-aware, intelligent being that can engage with the world around itself.
‘Let me tell you a story about these four gods, As they appeared in the body, one by one, each boasted, “I, and only I, am what truly sustains and supports the body.’’
‘Only after they had all spoken did Prana the lifebreath show himself. “Do not delude yourselves,” he said. “Without me – call me energy, lifebreath, what you will – who is present in the body as five distinct breaths, the body would not survive.”
‘“Ha!” mocked speech and mind, sight and hearing. “Show us!”
‘“I will,” said Prana, and he made as if to leave, proceeding swiftly upwards towards the brahmarandhra, the passage at the top of the human head through which life enters and leaves a body. And the gods that light up the body, all four of them, found themselves being pulled upwards and out, willy-nilly, in Prana’s wake, just like bees are “pulled” behind the queen bee when she leaves the hive.
‘“Mercy!” cried the gods. “We believe you now. When Prana leaves, so do all the other faculties – none can exist without the lifebreath!”’*
*This is clear enough, but just to reiterate – when breath leaves a body, so do thought, speech, and the faculties of seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting and feeling. The vital being that existed before – talking, laughing, enjoying a beautiful sunset or a dish of pani puri – is gone. What remains is simply matter, rayi, a body made up of the five elements.
Prashna 3: Now, about this lifebreath – where is it itself born?
Then Kausalya asked his question, nay, questions.
‘Bhagavan,’ said Kausalya, ‘whence does prana come? How does it enter the body? Once inside, how does it divide itself into the five breaths? How does it leave the body? How does it support life, both inside and outside the body?’
‘That’s too many questions,’ smiled Pippalada, ‘but since I know you as a true seeker, Kausalya, I will answer them.
‘Prana comes from the Self, it is an integral part of the Self. Just as a man and his shadow are inseparable, so indeed are the Self and prana inseparable. Both enter the body together, through a path created by the mind. For the mind remembers unfulfilled desires from previous lives, and needs prana to bring alive a new body so that those desires may be fulfilled in this life.
‘Once inside, prana splits, creating four other breaths to take charge of specific tasks in the body, just as a king appoints officers to carry out specific duties. The main breath, Prana, dwells in the eye and ear, mouth and nose – it is the lifebreath, which allows us to see and hear, smell and taste, think and talk. Apana (say apaa-na) is the downward breath, pressing down on the organs of excretion and reproduction, so that they may work as they are meant to. In the middle of the body is Samana (say samaa-na), the breath that stabilizes, working the bellows that keep the fire of digestion burning steadily and well.
‘Vyana (say vyaa-na), the breath that travels, is the distributor of energy, carrying it along a network of 101 channels that lead from the heart, where the Self dwells, and so along the hundred smaller channels that each branches into, and thus along the thousands more channels that each of those cleaves into, to take the sustaining, nourishing energy that Samana helps create from food, into the remotest reaches of the body.
‘Rising straight up through one of these channels, the one that leads from the heart to the head, is Udana (say udaa-na), the upward breath, which manifests at the time of death to convey the lifebreath out of the body to whatever worlds a man has gained through his actions. Those who have done good work in this life go to good realms, those who did evil, evil realms. Those who did a bit of both come back to the human realm. Know this, Udana also appears in dreamless sleep or deep meditation, when the senses have been withdrawn, to convey the mind to Brahman.
‘This is the way, dear Kausalya, that prana supports life inside the body.
‘Outside the body, the sun, which, when it rises, awakens the prana in every eye, is the Prana of the universe. Earth, which pulls everything towards itself, is indeed Apana, the downward force. Space, the element that dwells in the middle region, between earth and sky, is Samana, the stabilizer. Air, the wind that moves within this space, travelling through it, around it, and into every nook and cranny, is Vyana the distributor. And what of Udana? Fire is verily Udana, for it is an upward force, always reaching for higher realms.*
*Isn’t it fascinating how the Upanishadic sages always connected the happenings in the individual body to the happenings in the universe, and vice versa? You are the universe, they are saying at every step, and the universe is you. If you believe that the universe’s actions can impact you, they declare, know that your actions can equally impact the universe. Therefore, be very careful, very mindful about what you do, for you have the power to shake up the world, in ways both bad and good.
‘When the fire of life is extinguished, the mind draws the senses back into itself. Then, together with Prana, and aided by Udana, it readies for rebirth (if that was its desire at the time of death) or to move to higher realms (if that was its last thought).
‘The wise who know prana thus, Kausalya – how it is born, how it enters the body, where its five different manifestations live, both in the body and outside it, and how it is rel
ated to the individual Self, Atman, and the Supreme Self, Brahman – they become immortal, yea, they become immortal.’
Prashna 4: When I am sleeping, who in heck is the guy watching and enjoying my dreams?
Then Gargya asked his question.
‘Bhagavan,’ said Gargya, ‘when a man sleeps, who is it that really sleeps within him? When he is awake, who is he that is awake within him? Who is it, truly, that sees his dreams? Who enjoys himself when a man is happy?’
And Pippalada answered, ‘Just as, at the end of day, the sun gathers all his rays into his golden disc, only to send them out into the world again the next morning, and the next, and the next, so, Gargya, does the mind, the highest deity in the body, gather all up into itself when a man sleeps. In that state, therefore, a man sees not, hears not, tastes not, smells not, feels not, eats not, emits not, enjoys not and moves not. That’s when we say, “He is sleeping”.
‘Only the fires of life – Prana, which is the very breath of life; Apana, which smoulders, constant and true, like the fire in a householder’s hearth; Samana, which balances a man’s in-breath and out-breath; and Vyana, which diffuses energy through the body – burn in the sleeping city.
‘And with these fires, the yagna of life continues inside the sleeping body. The mind, which is the yajamana, the performer, of this yagna, pours into the sacred fire the offerings of the in-breath and out-breath. The fruit of this night-long sacrifice, the reward for the yajamana, is the fifth breath, Udana, which arises in deep, dreamless sleep, and leads the mind to Brahman.