by Roopa Pai
‘In the dream state, when the senses have been gathered up in sleep, the mind is supreme. He sees again things that have been seen, hears again things that have been heard, and experiences again things that have been experienced in the waking state. Things seen and unseen, heard and unheard, lived through and not lived through, existent and non-existent, the mind sees all, the mind sees all.*
*How can the mind see things that are unseen, hear things that are unheard and enjoy what it has not enjoyed in real life? In the dream state, when the mind is not accountable to the senses, which insist that the only reality is what can be seen, heard and felt, it sets free imagination and truly enjoys itself, constructing all manner of unlived fantasies that are only vaguely related to lived experiences. All of us who have had recurring nightmares of being on a cliff that crumbles suddenly under our feet, or of being chased by a tiger, or found ourselves in any weird, that-can-never-happen-in-real-life dream situations, know first-hand of the truly elaborate fantasies the mind is capable of conjuring up!
‘By and by, the warmth of dreamless sleep irradiates the body. The mind is finally stilled, and the body finds itself at last in the bliss of true repose. Just as birds wing their way back to the tree when they are weary, everything in the body returns to its true resting place, the Self.
‘In dreamless sleep, earth, water, fire, air and space, eyes and ears, sight and sound, nose and palate, smell and taste, skin and touch, tongue and speech, hands and feet, things that are held and paths that are walked, things excreted and that which excretes, things emitted and that which emits, mind and intellect, imagination and reason, self-awareness and ego, belief and understanding, light and life, things that are illuminated, rayi, and things that the breath, prana, brings alive – all of them, all of them, find their repose in the Self.
‘It is He, Gargya, this Self in which everything reposes, that is truly the seer, the hearer, the smeller, the feeler, the taster, the doer, the perceiver, the knower, the thinker, the experiencer, the Person in the body. And this Person himself reposes in the higher self – the immortal, imperishable, Supreme Self that is Brahman.
‘He who knows the Self in the body – the formless, stainless, shadowless Self on which rest the five elements, the vital breaths and the various intelligences – as the constant, shining, imperishable, Supreme Self – such a one, dear Gargya, knowing the whole truth, becomes the truth.’
Prashna 5: Is that very difficult thing called meditation even worth the effort?
Then Satyakama asked his question.
‘Bhagavan,’ said Satyakama, ‘if a man were to meditate on the sacred syllable Aum for his whole life, what rewards would he win through that meditation?’
And Pippalada answered, ‘That sound Aum (say Om*), Satyakama, is verily Brahman, both the higher one (Supreme universal spirit) and the lower one (the Self in every individual). Only by contemplating deeply on Aum, without distraction, may a man reach either.
*In Sanskrit, when the vowel sound ‘aa’ is followed by the vowel sound ‘uu’, the resulting sound is not ‘aauu’ or ‘ow’, but ‘oh’. A+u+m, therefore, is not Aauum or Owm, but Ohm.
‘Even a man who only meditates on the first sound, A, wins rewards. He comes quickly back to earth after death, led by the verses of the Rig Veda, blessed with the qualities of austerity, chastity and faith, to lead a full and happy life in the world of men.
‘A man who meditates on the first two sounds, A and U, is conveyed after his death to intermediate worlds, ruled by the moon, by the rituals of the Yajur Veda. There he enjoys a glorious life until the fruits of his Karma are depleted, after which he returns to earth again.
‘But he who meditates on all three sounds of Aum – A, U and M – he is escorted after death to the abode of the sun by the melodious chants of the Sama Veda, where he becomes one with the light, never to return.
‘These three sounds – A, U and M – if meditated upon separately, dear Satyakama, cannot lead a man beyond death. Wise is the sage who meditates on all of them as one, letting the sound of ‘Aum’ resonate in his heart without pause as he goes about his work both in the outer world and the inner, for he is freed forever from fear. He crosses beyond old age and death, and attains that which is serene, that which is luminous, and that which is peace everlasting.’
Prashna 6: Help! A seeker asked me about the person with sixteen parts – and I had no idea what he meant!
Then Sukesha approached Pippalada and asked his question.
‘Bhagavan,’ said Sukesha, ‘Hiranyanabha, the prince of Kosala, once came to me and said: “Sukesha, do you know the person with the sixteen parts?” I did not, so I told him so. He did not say a word as he got back onto his chariot and departed. Now tell me, sir, who is this person of the sixteen parts?’
And Pippalada answered, ‘Right here, Sukesha, within your body and mine, is the Person from whom, in whom, the sixteen parts are born. This Person, the Self, thought to himself, “There must be something that comes into the body when I do, filling it with life, and leaves when I leave, withdrawing life. I must create such a thing.”
And so he created (1) Prana, the lifebreath. From the lifebreath came (2) faith or shraddha, and from faith came (3) earth, (4) water, (5) fire, (6) space, (7) air, (8) the senses, (9) the mind, and (10) food, for everything needs fuel to grow and move. From food came (11) energy, from energy (12) the penances we undertake, (13 ) the hymns we chant, (14) the actions we do, (15) the worlds we do and do not inhabit, and (16) the names of everything in these worlds, for it is only once a thing has been named that it can stand apart from the others.
‘But just as rivers entering the ocean from every side lose their individual names and forms and become, simply, the ocean, so does the separateness of the sixteen parts of a person disappear and become, simply, the Person, no sooner than the Self is known. That one, the Person, is beyond name and form, immortal.
‘Know the Person, dear Sukesha, as the one by whom, in whom, the sixteen parts are held together, just as spokes are held together in the hub of a wheel, and you will see beyond name and form, and go beyond death.’
Then, to the six seekers, the sage Pippalada said, ‘That is all I know about that Supreme Brahman, higher than whom there is nothing else.’
And the students bowed to their teacher, and sang his praises, saying, ‘You, indeed, are our father, who has taken us across the sea of ignorance to the other shore.’
Praise the supreme seers! Homage to the supreme rishis!
Aum Shantih Shantih Shantih ||
THE AFTERSTORY
Afterstory 1: The Upanishadic Classroom
Remember how Pippalada didn’t immediately answer the six seekers’ questions? Instead, he asked them to live with him as his students for a year, serving him exactly as his other, much younger and much less enlightened, students did, despite the fact that these men had been on the spiritual path for several years, meditating, practising austerities, and all the rest of it.
Pippalada’s little throwaway line in the Prashna Upanishad – ‘Live with me as my students for a year, and then we can talk’ – tells us that what Indians believe to be among the most important attributes in a student are:
•Humility – In response to Pippalada’s suggestion, those men could well have retorted – ‘You can’t be serious!’ or ‘Do you know who my dad is?’ (for they were all sons of renowned sages), but they didn’t.
•Patience – There are no shortcuts to mastering a subject, a sport, a craft. If you really want to master something, patience is vital. Bet those poor men never expected that they would be required to wait a whole year simply to be allowed to speak to Pippalada! But they never complained, and were rewarded.
•Commitment and Discipline – If you truly want to go after a dream, you must be prepared to commit all to it. By asking the seekers to stay with him for a year, Pippalada was not only testing their commitment to the pursuit of truth, but also buying himself the opportunity of observing them
up close, over an extended period, to see if they had the discipline and perseverance such a quest required. When he found that they were worthy, he shared everything he knew with them.
•Faith – Unless they truly believed in the teacher, and trusted that his injunction came from a place of wisdom and love, the six men would have never accepted to do as he said. Shraddha – both in the teacher and the cause – is a very important requirement for all kinds of quests.
The other thing we can deduce from the description of Pippalada’s classroom is that the ancient Indian style of teaching was an interactive one as against a lecture-based one. Also, it was clearly led by the student – unless the student took the trouble to think deeply about a subject himself and formulate a question that he truly wanted answered, the teacher did not speak.
You know through your own experience how important self-learning is – when you are truly interested in learning something, like, say, a game hack, you will display severe commitment, scouring the Internet yourself for hours, reading and trying out all the tutorials online, and then, finally, when you have almost got it, except for one small technicality, you will stop using random keywords in your search and instead, formulate your question using Very Specific Keywords, which – bingo! – will pull up the exact web page you needed. That kind of learning is exactly what the Upanishads recommend!
Unfortunately for both teachers and students, the world of education today seems to be largely focused on ‘finishing the portions’ and getting top grades rather than on true understanding. Sigh.
Afterstory 2: Really? My Mind Remembers My Past Lives?
Well, according to Hindu thought, yes!
Hindus believe that even after the body is long gone, the mind retains the memories of past lives. As long as the mind has unfulfilled desires and/or regrets from a previous life, it will keep looking for another body to take up residence in, so that, in its next lifetime at least, it may fulfil those desires/redress the wrongs it has committed.
Apparently, the very last thought your mind has before your body dies will determine what happens after. If you die wishing that you had lived your life better (been kinder, less lazy, not smoked, done nicer things for your mum or your kids), or that you had had a better life (maybe you would have liked to have been richer or taller or a different sex), your mind will remember that and ensure you live through another lifetime, during the course of which, invariably, you will create more desires for yourself and/or commit different mistakes. And begin the whole sorry cycle once again.
To escape from this trap, to end this endless cycle of samsara, is every Hindu’s dearest wish, and all Hindu scriptures are essentially a set of recommendations on how that may be achieved. If you can tell yourself, at the time of your death, that you had the best life ever, that you have no regrets about things you did and did not do, that there is no one you need to apologize to, and nothing more you desire, you will be liberated, free.
But how can you ensure that you feel that way when you die, especially when you haven’t the foggiest when you are going to pop it? By telling yourself those things, believing those things, doing everything that allows you to say those things with conviction – all the time! That means reviewing your life every few days, and course-correcting immediately when it seems to be veering off the path – if you feel you haven’t done something nice for your mum in the past week, do it now; if you are feeling bad that you said something mean to a friend, say sorry now; if you feel that you are obsessing too much about your dream phone, make up a story for yourself – quickly – about how it won’t really change your life, and let go of that desire. See how that works?
Start clearing your mind of samsara baggage, today! Go on, chop, chop!
१३
MUNDAKA
The Upanishad of the Big Shave
In which two little birds teach us a great truth
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
Christmas 1918. In the bitter cold of a Delhi winter, leaders of the Indian National Congress (INC) huddled together, getting the final bits in place for the party’s 33rd session, due to begin the next day. The person who had been picked to lead this session, as its president, was Pandit Madan Mohan Malaviya, a well-known educationist, editor, barrister, moderate leader and Sanskrit scholar.
Just a couple of years earlier, Pandit Malaviya, referred to admiringly by Mahatma Gandhi as Mahamana (‘The Great Mind’) had founded the iconic Banaras Hindu University, then one of the largest universities in the world. Three years before that, he had been part of the team that started the Scouting Movement in India, going on to become the country’s first Chief Scout. Four years before that, in 1909, he had founded The Leader, an English newspaper that would become a highly influential flag-bearer of the Indian freedom struggle. As a barrister too, he had had many great courtroom victories before he hung up his robes in 1911, on his 50th birthday, to devote himself wholly to the freedom struggle.*
*He would don them again, just once, in 1924, to defend 170 revolutionaries who had been condemned to the gallows in the wake of the appalling carnage at Chauri Chaura. In February 1922, a group of non-violent Indian protesters had turned into a frenzied mob after police had opened fire on them. The mob locked the twenty-two British officers inside the police station and burnt it down, killing everyone inside. Pt Malaviya’s impassioned and compelling arguments before the British judge, over four charged days, would result in over 150 of those death sentences being commuted to life imprisonment.
But back to the 33rd session of the INC, which is remembered for the many resolutions that were passed during that week, demanding complete self-governance for India. What is often overlooked about this session, however, is a rather significant sidelight – Pt Malaviya’s recommendation that the Congress, and India, look to a particular Sanskrit phrase – Satyam eva jayate – The Truth Alone Triumphs – as their beacon and anchor while they fought the good fight. So powerfully did the sentiment of this mantra resonate, not just with the members of the INC but also with the people of India, that when India became independent, the founding fathers chose to adopt it as our nation’s motto, and had it inscribed at the base of the lion capital we chose for our country’s emblem.
The National Emblem of India
Great story. But we are talking about it here because? Because this phrase – Satyam eva jayate – is part of – you guessed it! – a verse in the Mundaka Upanishad. The whole line reads – ‘Satyam eva jayate na anritam’ – Truth alone triumphs, not falsehood.
Like the Prashna, the Mundaka Upanishad, as you would know after seeing its Shanti Mantra, is also considered to be part of the Atharva Veda. Its sixty-four verses are divided into three Mundakams or chapters, each with two sections. As with so many others, this Upanishad is also cast as a dialogue between a teacher, the sage Angiras, and his student, the householder Shaunaka.
The word Mundaka has its roots in ‘mund’, which means ‘to shave’. (Remember when you and your family were invited to a baby’s mundan? And how that baby’s shrieking while his or her head was shaved was part of your nightmares for weeks after? Yup, that kind of mund.) What does shaving have to do with this Upanishad? There are a couple of theories. One says that this Upanishad is aimed at sannyasis or monks, they of the shaven heads, and that its higher truth is accessible only to those who have renounced the world. [Which is a bit odd, considering the student asking the questions here is not a hermit or a brahmachari (celibate bachelor) but a householder.] Another theory suggests that the mundan suggested by the name Mundaka is a ‘shaving away of ignorance
’, which anyone who understands this Upanishad will experience.
Whatever. The important thing is the subject of the Mundaka. More than any other Upanishad, this one is scathing about those who revere rituals above all, believing that if they do ‘right action’ – perform rituals according to the rules, give charity, et al – the rewards of immortality will be theirs. The Mundaka insists that right action, even when done in the right spirit, can at most lead you to what it calls a ‘lower truth’. Of course, attaining this ‘lower truth’ helps create the discipline and platform needed to launch yourself into the bigger quest for the ‘higher truth’, the knowledge of Brahman,* but mistaking the lower truth for the higher, or believing that the former is all there is, marks one out as an ignoramus.
*The Mundaka refers to this higher truth as ‘Vedanta’. This is arguably the earliest recorded use of this famous, oft-used word!
The famous Upanishadic metaphor of the two birds on a tree, one restless, the other content – is also from the Mundaka Upanishad. Never heard that story? Time you did, then. Read on!
THE STORY
Brahma arose as the first among gods, creator, protector, guardian of the world. And to Atharvan, his beloved firstborn son, he revealed the knowledge of Brahman, which is the root of all knowledge. That knowledge Atharvan revealed to Angir in ancient times, and Angir to Satyavaha, and Satyavaha to Angiras.
One day, the householder Shaunaka went to pay the sage Angiras a visit, carrying firewood as every student does, and asked, ‘What is it, Bhagavan, knowing which everything else may be known?’
‘There are two kinds of knowledge, the higher and the lower, that a man must know, Shaunaka, so the wise tell us,’ replied Angiras. ‘The lower knowledge is held in the four Vedas, in grammar and phonetics, linguistics and metrics, astronomy and etymology, ritual and poetry. The higher knowledge, on the other hand, is one by which the Imperishable One is grasped.’