Chapter 18
Arjuna said: I want to understand more clearly, Glorious One, the true nature of Sannyas — renunciation — and of Tyaga — letting go — and what distinguishes one from the other.
Krishna said: The wise teach that Sannyas means giving up all actions that arise from desire; and the most insightful among them say Tyaga means renouncing the fruits of actions.
Some sages have held that all action is tainted and should be abandoned. Others say that good acts — worship, penance, charity — must still be performed. Hear now my verdict, best of the Bharatas.
Renunciation, well understood, has three forms, O foe-conqueror. Worship, penance, and almsgiving should not be set aside; they should be gladly performed, for these three purify the soul.
Yet even these noble works must be done with attachment surrendered and all fruit released. This is my judgment, Prince, my firm and unshakable decree.
To abstain from a duty that is rightly prescribed is never proper. Such abstaining springs from “darkness” and is born of delusion. To abstain from work because it is unpleasant to the body, saying “this displeases me,” is worthless — that comes from “passion,” and brings no real renunciation. But, Arjuna, when one performs the work faithfully while abstaining from attachment to it and from its rewards, saying only “this is right to do” — that is true action and true abstinence. Whoever performs duties this way, untroubled if his work fails and unflattered if it succeeds, settled within himself, free from debates and doubts — his is the true act. For while one lives in the body, no one can stand wholly apart from action; but whoever abstains from the profits of his actions is truly abstinent.
The fruit of works, in lives to come, is of three kinds for ordinary people: desirable, undesirable, and mixed. But for one who has done no work seeking results, no such fruit exists.
Hear from me, mighty one, the five factors that go into every act, as taught in the Sankhya teaching as necessary. First, the body; then the agent; next, the various instruments; fourth, the particular effort; fifth, the divine influence. Whatever action a person performs — of body, mind, or speech, good or evil — these five are involved. Knowing this, anyone who, through lack of understanding, sees himself as the sole doer, sees nothing truly. Therefore I say: if a person, free from selfhood, with an unstained mind, were to slay all this gathered army at command, he does not really slay, and he is not bound by the deed.
Knowledge, the thing known, and the knowing mind — these three form the impulse behind an act. The act, the actor, and the instrument — these three make up the deed itself. But knowledge, agent, and action are each divided by three qualities. Hear now what those distinguishing qualities are.
There is true knowledge: to see one unchanging Life in all lives, the one Inseparable in all that seems separate. There is imperfect knowledge: that which sees separate existences as separate and takes them, in their separateness, to be ultimately real. And there is false knowledge: that which blindly fastens on one thing as if it were everything, ignoring causes — limited, dull, and dark.
There is right action: that which is performed because it ought to be, without attachment, without passion, for duty alone — not from love or hate or hope of gain. There is futile action: the kind people pursue while burning to satisfy their desires, driven by self-importance and consuming effort. This belongs to Rajas — passionate and vain. There is dark action: when someone does a thing heedless of consequences, heedless of injury or wrong to others, heedless of harm to his own soul. That belongs to Tamas — black and bad.
There is the right doer: he who acts free from self-seeking, humble, resolute, steadfast, the same in good fortune or bad, content to do what is right. There is the impassioned doer: he who works from impulse, chasing profit, crude and bold, untamed, lurching between sorrow and joy — he belongs to Rajas. And there are evil doers: scattered in heart, low-minded, stubborn, deceitful, careless, slow, dejected — children of the dark.
Hear too of the threefold division of intellect and resolve, conquering Prince, and how these are sorted by quality.
Good is the intellect that grasps the coming forth and returning of life, what should be done and what should not, what is to be feared and what is not, what binds and what liberates the soul: that is of Sattwan, the quality of truthfulness. Marred is the intellect that, knowing right from wrong and proper from improper, still cannot hold to anything firmly or see things as they truly are: that is of Rajas, passionate. Evil is the intellect wrapped in gloom, taking wrong for right and seeing everything backwards: that, son of Pritha, is of Tamas, dark and lost.
Good is the steadiness by which one masters his heartbeats, his very breath, his senses, fixed in unshakable faith and devotion: that is of Sattwan, true and fair. Tainted is the steadiness by which one clings to duty, purpose, effort, and goal for the sake of life and the love of gain: that, Arjuna, is of Rajas, stamped with passion. Sad is the steadiness with which a fool clings to his sloth, sorrow, fear, folly, and despair: that, son of Pritha, is born of Tamas, dark and miserable.
Hear further, chief of the Bharatas, the threefold kinds of pleasure.
Good pleasure is the kind that endures, banishing pain forever — bitter at first like poison to the soul, but afterward sweet as the nectar of immortality. Drink of that! It rises from the deep contentment of the spirit. Painful pleasure rises from the link between the senses and the world of sense-objects: sweet as nectar at first taste, but bitter as poison at the last. That is of Rajas, Prince. And foul and dark is the pleasure that springs from sloth and sin and foolishness — at the start, at the finish, and all along the way bewildering the soul. That is of Tamas.
For nothing lives on earth, nor among the gods in highest heaven, that is not bound up with these three qualities, framed by Nature.
The work of Brahmans, Kshatriyas, Vaisyas, and Sudras, slayer of foes, is allotted according to the qualities planted in each.
A Brahman’s virtues, Prince, born of his nature, are calmness, self-mastery, religious devotion, purity, patience, uprightness, learning, and the knowledge of how things truly are. A Kshatriya’s pride, born of his nature, lies in courage, fire, constancy, skill, boldness in battle, generosity, and a noble bearing as befits a leader of men. A Vaisya’s task, born with his nature, is to till the soil, tend cattle, and engage in trade. A Sudra’s calling, suited to his nature, is service.
Whoever performs — diligent and content — the work allotted to him, whatever it may be, lays hold of perfection. Hear how a person reaches perfection through this contentment: he reaches it by worship — worship done through work — of Him who is the source of all that lives, by whom the universe was spread out.
Your own work, even imperfectly done, is better than another’s work done excellently. No one falls into sin who faces the task that Nature has assigned him. Never abandon your natural duty, Prince, even if there is blame in it. Every work carries some blame, just as every flame carries smoke. Only the person whose work is performed with mind unbound, soul fully subdued, desires forever dead, and results renounced — only he attains complete release from work.
Learn from me, son of Kunti, also this: how one who reaches perfect peace attains Brahm, the supreme, the highest of all heights.
Devoted, with heart made pure, restrained in noble self-control, giving up the lure of music and the senses, free from love and hatred, dwelling in solitude, eating sparingly, with body, speech, and will tamed to obedience, ever bound to holy meditation, freed from the passions, free from selfhood, arrogance, impatience, anger, and pride, free from possessions, quiet, lacking nothing — such a person grows into oneness with Brahm. So becoming one with Brahm, serene, he sorrows no more and desires no more; his soul, loving all that lives equally, loves me well — me, who made them — and so attains me. By this same love and worship he comes to know me as I truly am, in my height and wonder; and knowing, he enters straight into me. And whatever deeds he does — fixed in me as his refuge — he has won, forever and forever, by my grace, the Eternal Rest.
Win this for yourself! In your every thought, do all you do for me. Renounce for me. Sacrifice your heart, mind, and will to me. Live in faith of me. With faith in me you will overcome every danger by my grace; but trusting yourself and ignoring me, you can only perish. If today you say, relying on your own self, “I will not fight!” — the purpose will prove empty. Your own qualities will drive you to war. What you now shun, misled by lovely illusions, you would seek out against your will when the task comes, the promptings of your own nature waking within you. There lives a Master in the hearts of all people, who makes their deeds dance to whatever tune he wills, pulling subtle strings. With your whole soul trust him, and take him as your help, Prince. So — and only so, Arjuna — by his grace will you win the utmost peace, the Eternal Place.
Thus has been opened to you this truth of truths, more hidden than any secret mystery. Meditate on it — and then act as you choose.
But one more time, take my last word, my deepest meaning. You are precious to me, truly beloved. Listen — I tell you this for your comfort. Give me your heart. Adore me. Serve me. Cling to me in faith and love and reverence. So you will come to me. I promise it truly, because you are dear to me.
And let go of those rites and prescribed duties. Fly to me alone. Make me your single refuge. I will free your soul from all its sins. Take heart!
[Krishna also says: hide this teaching from anyone without faith, from anyone who does not worship and does not seek wisdom when she speaks. Hide it from those who mock. But wherever among my devotees one shall teach this most divine and wisest speech — teaching it in faith, bringing the truth to others, and offering all honor to me — that person comes to Brahma. Nowhere among all mankind will you find anyone doing dearer service to me, nor any dearer to me on earth. And further: whoever reads through this conversation we have held upon the plain, pondering it piously and eagerly, has offered me sacrifice — so Krishna speaks. And whoever, full of faith, listens to it wisely and humbly, will at death rise to those regions where the blessed dwell, free of the body, in joy.]
Have you heard this, Indian Prince, with mind attentive? Has the ignorance that bred your trouble vanished, my Arjuna?
Arjuna said: Trouble and ignorance are gone. The light has come to me by your favor, Lord. Now I am settled. My doubt has fled away. According to your word, so I will act.
Sanjaya said: Thus I gathered the gracious speech of Krishna, my King; thus I have told, with thrilling heart, this wise and wondrous thing, set down by great Vyasa’s learning, of how Krishna himself revealed the Yoga, being Yoga’s Lord — and so the high truth is shown. Whenever I remember, my Lord and King, that talk between Arjuna and the God, and all this holy strain, great is my gladness; and when I muse on that splendor of Hari, beyond words, made visible and plain, no tongue can reach my wonder and love and bliss. Archer-Prince, all hail! Krishna, Lord of Yoga, surely blessing, victory, and power shall not fail, for your mighty sake, wherever this song of Arjuna comes, and how he spoke with God.
HERE ENDS, WITH CHAPTER XVIII., entitled “Mokshasanyasayog,” or “The Book of Religion by Deliverance and Renunciation,” THE BHAGAVAD-GITA.
