Gita Class 003, Ch.1 Verses 10-20

Bhagavad Gita Class by Swami Tadatmananda –

Jan 16, 2021

Youtube link: https://youtu.be/zF80BTkmH9o?si=AMR5OOc4Me1WHwoH

Webcast every Saturday, 11 am EST.  All recorded classes available here:   • Bhagavad Gita – classes by Swami Tadatmananda  

Swami Tadatmananda’s translation, audio download, and podcast available on his website here: https://arshabodha.org/teachings/bhag…

Swami Tadatmananda is a traditionally-trained teacher of Advaita Vedanta, meditation, and Sanskrit. For more information, please see: https://www.arshabodha.org/

Note about the verses:  Swamiji typically starts a few verses before and discusses 10 verses at the beginning of the class. The screenshot of the verses takes that into consideration and also all the verses that were presented during the class, which may be after the verses discussed initially. We put the later of the two at the beginning

Note about the transcription:The transcription has been generated using AI and highlighted by volunteers. Swamiji has reviewed the quality of this content and has approved it and this is perfectly legal. The purpose is to have a closer reading of Swamiji.s teachings. Please follow along with youtube videos. We are doing this as our sadhana and nothing more.

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Class 3

ॐ सह नाववतु
oṁ saha nāv avatu

सह नौ भुनक्तु
saha nau bhunaktu

सह वीर्यं करवावहै
saha vīryaṁ karavāvahai

तेजस्वि नावधीतमस्तु मा विद्विषावहै
tejasvināvadhītam astu mā vidviṣāvahai

ॐ शान्तिः शान्तिः शान्तिः
oṁ śāntiḥ śāntiḥ śāntiḥ

Good. Welcome to the webcast of our usual Saturday morning class on Bhagavad Gita. We’re still at the beginning of Chapter 1, Arjuna Vishada Yoga, the chapter that deals with Arjuna’s vishada, his distress. And we’ll begin each class, as we have been, with some recitation chanting.

We’ll start today with verse 8. Verse 7—it was better. It’s a good place to start. So we’ll start with verse 7 and you can repeat each quarter after me. And as I’ve mentioned before, please glance at the translation while you’re listening to me so that you understand what you’re chanting a moment later.

Swamiji does not cover the below in the video in this class. However he covers in the lecture

We’ll end the recitation here and pick up the thread where we left off last week. You might remember the context where we started chanting—Duryodhana has approached his teacher, Dronacharya, and is showing Dronacharya all of his mighty warriors who, in Duryodhana’s own words, are all ready to give up their lives for his sake.

So Duryodhana here is—you could look at it as bragging—but according to Madhusudana, his observation in the commentary is that Duryodhana is a little worried, a little anxious. Now that he’s on the battlefield and looking at those with whom he has to fight, it appears that Duryodhana is trying to, the American expression is, psych himself up—to encourage himself and strengthen himself emotionally for the battle that lies ahead. That becomes really obvious in the next verse.

So let’s pick up the thread where we left. This is an interesting verse to look at how it gets mistranslated, primarily by Hindi-speaking people, because it uses this word parayoptam. Parayoptam is aparayoptam, Hindi may parayopt—when you say in Hindi ye parayopt hai or maybe more commonly ye kaafi hai, you know, you’re saying this is enough, this is sufficient. But that happens to be a Hindi meaning of parayopt, and in Sanskrit, parayopta has many meanings.

In fact, I looked it up in the dictionary—it gives 11 meanings for parayopta. The basic meaning—from the root op, to obtain—the very basic meaning for parayopta is “that which is obtained.” But when you add that prefix pari, pari plus op becomes parayopt, and then the past participle—parayopta, for Sanskrit students.

So parayopta can simply mean “what is obtained.” One of the many meanings is “sufficient,” but if you try to read this verse with that meaning, you get the wrong meaning—the opposite meaning. So parayopta can indeed mean—it literally means “that which is obtained.” It can mean “sufficient.” It can also mean “limited,” that which is bounded, that which is constrained—and that’s the meaning that’s used here.

Look at what he says. Duryodhana speaks to Drona, and he says, tadbalam, the strength, asmākam—”of ours,” of the strength of our army, our army which is bhīṣma abhirakṣitam, which is protected by Bhishma—the strength of our army is aparayaptam. Now, you have to take it in the sense of “unlimited.”

Suppose if you take the Hindi meaning, “sufficient”—”the strength of our army is insufficient”—would be the incorrect translation. Wait a minute—Duryodhana is—I’m sorry, Duryodhana is showing off to Drona. He’s not going to say “the strength of our army is insufficient,” so it’s a dead giveaway. Whenever you see that this verse is mistranslated, where Duryodhana says, “the strength of our army is insufficient,” it’s clear it’s done by someone who speaks Hindi and doesn’t understand Sanskrit properly.

By the way, all the commentators on the Bhagavad Gita, including Madhusudana, they all make the same observation. The observation they make is that Duryodhana’s army has 11 divisions. The word they use for division is akṣauhiṇī. Akṣauhiṇī is an obscure word; it means division of an army. And according to several commentators—I think I counted six different commentators altogether—they all point out that Duryodhana’s army has 11 akṣauhiṇīs, 11 divisions, whereas the Pandava army only has seven divisions.

So physically, the army of Duryodhana is larger than that of the Pandavas. So most certainly, Duryodhana would say tadbalam, the strength asmākam—of our army—bhīṣma abhirakṣitam, which is protected by Bhishma, that strength is aparayaptam. It is unlimited. So please use the correct translation here. On the other hand, in the second half, you see that tu-idam—tu, “but”; idam-balam, “this strength”; teṣām, “of theirs,” of the Pandava army, which is Bhīma-abhirakṣitam, which is protected by Bhima, is paryāptam. And paryāptam here has to mean limited, finite, constrained. It can’t possibly mean sufficient. So, be on guard. The next time you pick up a Bhagavad Gita translation, look at that translation carefully—it might be incorrect.

By the way, Duryodhana hates Bhima—really badly. So when he says Bhīma-abhirakṣitam, “these army of the Pandavas protected by Bhima”—tu-idam, that’s a defect. I guess Duryodhana looks at Bhima as someone who is fat and not very capable. Someone who is overweight. Bhima, of course, is huge.

Okay. And then, so, for quite a few verses now, we’ve seen Duryodhana speaking to Drona about the strength of his army. He identifies all the members of his army, also of the Pandava army. And now, in the next verse, Duryodhana, instead of addressing Drona, Duryodhana addresses all the other generals, the leaders of his army—and you get that from “so addressing all the other generals.” Drona is one of many leaders of his army. They’re all collected at the front of the battle line, and so Duryodhana addresses the others.

He says, bhavantaḥ—”are they all of you?” All of you other generals and leaders. Eva hi, indeed all of you. Bhīṣmam—I’m going backwards, starting with the last line, we’re working our way forward. All of you, bhīṣmam eva abhirakṣantu—all of you abhirakṣantu, must protect Bhishma; eva bhīṣmam—all of you be careful to protect Bhishma.

Why? Because Bhishma is the head of their entire army. They say in military language, if you decapitate the opposing force by killing the leadership, then you win the war. So here Bhishma is the head of their army—the Kaurava army—so therefore Duryodhana makes a special command: Be sure that you protect Bhishma.

All of you, all of you leaders, in the second line—all of you leaders who are yathā-bhāgam eva-vasthitāḥ—all of you leaders who are vasthitāḥ, assembled, arrayed. Yathā-bhāgam, in your respective divisions. All of you leaders, generals who are arrayed in your respective divisions.

Ayaneṣu sarveṣu—sarveṣu, and all; ayaneṣu, on all sides. So all of you leaders who are arrayed—arrayed in your respective divisions on all sides—bhīṣmam eva in particular, be sure abhirakṣantu, that you protect Bhishma.

And with those words, Duryodhana’s speech comes to an end, and now we return to the narration. The narration given by Sanjaya, speaking to the blind king Dhṛtarāṣṭra. You remember that Sanjaya was given that power—to see and hear everything that was taking place on the battlefield—and with that power, he narrates all these happenings to the blind king Dhṛtarāṣṭra.

And now he speaks of, in the second line, kuru-vṛddhaḥ pitāmahaḥ—pitāmahaḥ, the grandfather, referring to Bhishma. Bhishma, who is kuru-vṛddhaḥ, the elder of the Kuru clan. Kuru-vṛddhaḥ pitāmahaḥ, the eldest of the Kurus—Bhishma, who in the third line vinadya siṁhanādam—vinadya, vinadya, sounding, uttering; siṁhanādam, the sound of a lion, means that Bhishma roared—literally. Bhishma roared. Ucchaiḥ—he roared loudly.

And after roaring loudly—by the way, the context is: Let us imagine that while Duryodhana was speaking to Drona, it’s likely that—and this is according to Madhusūdana’s commentary—Madhusūdana said that Bhishma apparently looked over at Duryodhana and probably saw a look of anxiety on Duryodhana’s face. Duryodhana being worried about his army’s capacity to stand up on the battlefield—to be victorious on the battlefield.

So for that reason, according to Madhusūdana, Bhishma wants to encourage Duryodhana, strengthen Duryodhana emotionally. So what does Bhishma do? Vinadya siṁhanādam, vinadya—he roars. Ucchaiḥ—loudly.

And then, in the last line, dadmau, dadmau—he blows. Who is that? Pratāpavān—the Mighty One. Pratāpavān means the Mighty One. Bhishma. Bhishma dadmau, blows upon his śaṅkham—his conch.

Why? And here even Sanjaya gives also the context. He does all this—why? Sañjanayan harṣaṁ, literally. Sañjanayan, generating, causing; harṣam—delight, encouragement; tasya—for him, for Duryodhana. So, generating delight, encouragement in the heart of Duryodhana.

Of course, you can imagine the scene on a battlefield: all the armies are gathered there, facing each other. And once one conch is blown, then all the other warriors are going to blow their conches. So you can just imagine, once the trend starts—the trend of blowing the conches is started here by Bhishma.

Once one conch is blown, many others are blown in response—and not only conches. But Sanjaya narrates all the noise and tumult on the battlefield.

Sanjaya says:
Tataḥ śaṅkhāś ca bheryaś ca,
paṇavānaka-gomukhāḥ,
sahasaivābhyahanyanta,
sa śabdas tumulo ’bhavat.

Tataḥ—then, thereafter. After Bhishma blew his conch. Then, other conches—śaṅkhāḥ. Not only conches, but bheryaḥ—bheri is a kind of drum. So śaṅkhāḥ, conches, and kettle drums. Also paṇava—paṇava is another kind of drum. And ānaka—ānaka is a kind of trumpet. And along with these drums and trumpets, gomukha—gomukha is the trumpet made of the horn of a cow.

So all of these, sahasā eva—suddenly, abhyahanyanta—they all sounded. Suddenly means simultaneously. So the battlefield so far had been fairly quiet—of course, the sound of everyone talking and the horses and elephants, but relatively quiet—until Bhishma blew his conch.

Then, in response, all the other warriors on both sides of the battlefield—they’re all now blowing their conches, beating their drums, blowing on the horns. Suddenly, simultaneously, all of these sounds took place.

And sa śabdaḥ—in the last line, bhavat—that sound was tumulaḥ. Interesting that tumulaḥ sounds like the English “tumultuous.” That’s exactly what it means. Tumulaḥ means tumultuous—the sound taking place on the battlefield. There were thousands and thousands of warriors gathered on both sides. They’re all blowing their conches and beating their drums and blowing on the horns, so it’s all a tumultuous sound.

Sanjaya continues to narrate: Divyau śaṅkhau pradadhmatūḥ tataḥ — then, in the third line, Madhava, the common name for Sri Krishna, and Pandava—Pandava could mean any son of Pandu, but here it refers specifically to Arjuna. Why does it refer to Arjuna? Because Madhava and Pandava, Krishna and Arjuna, were in the second line: sthitau, both of them were standing; syandanay, in a chariot. Not an ordinary chariot—mahati syandanay, on a great chariot, on a glorious chariot.

And what about that chariot? The chariot—backing up to the first line—the chariot which was yuktaḥ, which was joined to śvetaiḥ hayaiḥ—hayaḥ is horse, so the chariot was yuktaḥ tu hayaiḥ, yoked to horses. What kind of horses? śvetaiḥ—white horses. You’ve seen this picture many times. Many of you watched the old B.R. Chopra series on the Mahabharata—I watched it two and a half times through. I enjoyed it quite a bit, and I learned some Hindi by watching all those—I think 96 episodes. Anyway, if you watched it—it’s a little out of date today—but still, in those days, I think in the 1980s, it was quite well done for that time and place.

So Sri Krishna and Arjuna, who were standing in a great chariot yoked to white horses—what did they do? Well, they pradadhmatūḥ, they also blew upon divyau śaṅkhau—their own conches, which are divya, divine conches.

And for our Sanskrit students, notice there’s a lot of dual number. Sanskrit not only has a singular and plural, but it also has a dual. So when this verse refers to Krishna and Arjuna standing, it uses the dual number. And when it talks about them blowing upon their conches, this verse also uses that dual number—kind of unique to the Sanskrit language that it would not only have a singular and plural number, but a dual number as well.

Sanjaya continues to narrate—so now we get more details. Arjuna and Krishna are blowing on their conches, but their conches have names. This is real typical of the style of the Mahabharata—they give so much detail. If you’re standing in a grove of trees, the Mahabharata will tell you what kind of trees there are. If there are flowers growing on bushes, the Mahabharata will describe in detail what kinds of flowers they are, what colors, what types of flowers they are. This is the style of this mahākāvya, this great epic poem—the Mahabharata. The Ramayana has a similar style. All these details are given—that’s how the Mahabharata grows to be 84,000 verses in length.

So here, the details given are the names of the conches blown by Sri Krishna and Arjuna. Hṛṣīkeśaḥ is a name for Lord Krishna—Hṛṣīkeśaḥ pañcajanyam—Pañcajanya, the name of the conch. Speaking of names, one thing Madhusūdana likes to do in his commentary is explain the meaning of all these names. Śaṅkarācārya, I don’t think he gives so much attention in his commentary, but Madhusūdana is very particular about explaining all of these names.

For example, why should Sri Krishna be referred to as Hṛṣīkeśaḥ? And here the word is a compound, and you have to be very careful to split the compound word properly. The compound word is hṛṣīka followed by īśa. Īśa means Lord. Hṛṣīka means sense—sight, hearing, taste, smell, touch. So hṛṣīka-īśa means the indwelling—the term Madhusūdana uses is antaryāmī, the Lord’s indwelling presence, the divine presence in each person. Īśa—the Lord of the hṛṣīka, of the senses.

By the way, just a side comment—this word Hṛṣīkeśaḥ, obviously, is where the town of Rishikesh gets its name. But what’s interesting is when you use the Hindi form Rishi Kesh, you can easily mistranslate it, because Kesh, keśaḥ, means hair. And some people think that Rishikesh is a place where all the hairy ṛṣis used to live—they had long matted locks. And that is a ridiculous translation. Rishikesh comes from Hṛṣīkeśaḥ, a name for Lord Krishna—the īśa, the Lord, of the hṛṣīka, of the senses—the indwelling divine presence of Lord Krishna.

So Hṛṣīkeśaḥ, Lord Krishna, blew on his conch named Pañcajanya. And Arjuna, here called Dhanañjaya, blew on his conch Devadatta. Dhanañjaya is a name for Arjuna. Why is Arjuna called Dhanañjaya? Dhanañjaya literally means “the conqueror of wealth.” Now offhand that doesn’t seem to make much sense—Arjuna is a warrior. In what sense is Arjuna the conqueror of wealth?

Madhusūdana likes to explain all this. He says that before the war, Yudhiṣṭhira performed what was called a digvijaya. Digvijaya means you send your armies out in all four directions to either form alliances with the neighboring kingdoms or to conquer the neighboring kingdoms. In either event—whether you conquer them or form an alliance—you get money. If you form an alliance, they pay tribute. And if you conquer them, you take over their treasury.

And it was Arjuna who was at the head of these armies who went out in the four directions. So in this digvijaya, Arjuna was crucial in forming alliances with or conquering other kingdoms. And in that way, he received all these funds—funds which were essential to… we forget the details—if you’re going to fight a war, you have to finance it. So with all that money, Yudhiṣṭhira financed this huge army assembled for this battle.

Then—so Krishna blew upon Pañcajanya, Dhanañjaya, Arjuna blew upon Devadatta. Then also, Pauṇḍram dadhmau mahāśaṅkham bhīmakarmā vṛkodaraḥ. So now Bhima is described. Bhima is described as dadhmau—blowing upon mahāśaṅkham, a great conch. A great conch called Pauṇḍram.

And here Bhima is named as bhīmakarmā. Not just Bhima, but bhīmakarmā. The karma—the deeds—of Bhima were bhīma. Bhīma, as an adjective, means fearful. So Bhima here is called bhīmakarmā—one whose deeds strike fear into the hearts of opponents.

Bhima is also called vṛkodara. I made a reference to him before as being fat. He was big. He was mighty. But he wasn’t fat, because it says here that his udara—his stomach—was like that of a vṛka, a wolf. So he had—I guess the wolf, like a dog—dogs generally don’t have a belly that hangs down, but a belly that goes up. So Bhima here is called vṛkodara—one who has a belly like a wolf, one who is as fierce as a wolf.

Sanjaya continues his narration: Anantavijayam rājā, Anantavijayam rājā, Kuntīputro Yudhiṣṭhiraḥ, Kuntīputro Yudhiṣṭhiraḥ, Nakulaḥ Sahadevaś ca, Nakulaḥ Sahadevaś ca, Sughoṣa-Manipuṣpakau, Sughoṣa-Manipuṣpakau.

So we’ve learned the names of the conches belonging to Krishna, to Arjuna, and to Bhima. Now rājā Yudhiṣṭhiraḥ—King Yudhiṣṭhira, Kuntīputraḥ, the son of Kunti—he blew upon his conch which was called Anantavijaya, the one whose victory is endless. That’s the name of his conch: Anantavijaya.

Then Nakula and Sahadeva—so we’re getting all five Pandava brothers named here—Nakula and Sahadeva, the twins, the youngest of the Pandava brothers, they also blew upon their conches. What were the names of their conches? Sughoṣa was the conch of Nakula, and Manipuṣpaka is the name of the conch of Sahadeva. Sughoṣa—it sounds nice, has a nice-sounding tone—and Manipuṣpaka, the one which is like a jewel-like flower. Very elaborate names.

Sanjaya continues the narration of all the conches: Kāśyaś ca parameṣvāsaḥ, Śikhaṇḍī ca mahārathaḥ, Dhṛṣṭadyumno Virāṭaś ca, Sātyakiś ca aparājitaḥ. All of these are the warriors blowing their conches. And who are the warriors?

Kāśya—the king of Kāśi. The king of Kāśi is called parameṣvāsaḥ. You really have to break apart the words: parama-iṣu-āsaḥ. Āsaḥ—a thrower of iṣu, arrows; but who is parama—the greatest. The greatest thrower of arrows—of course we wouldn’t translate it like that—we’d say: the greatest of archers. So the greatest of archers, the king of Kāśi, is one of those blowing a conch.

Also Śikhaṇḍī, who is a mahāratha, one of the generals of the Pandava army. There’s such an elaborate story about Śikhaṇḍī—I won’t share it here. Also Dhṛṣṭadyumna—he is the leader of the Pandava army. And Virāṭa—another one of their generals, the king of Virāṭa. And Sātyaki—Sātyaki earlier was referred to as Yuyudhāna, but that’s not a common name. Sātyaki is his more recognized name—another great general, a great warrior, who is called aparājitaḥ—unconquered by anyone else.

So Sanjaya continues to narrate all of these great warriors on the Pandava side who are blowing their conches. And that concludes here:

Drupado Draupadeyāś ca, Drupado Draupadeyāś ca, Śubhadraḥ ca Mahābāhuḥ, Śubhadraḥ ca Mahābāhuḥ, Śaṅkhān dadhmuḥ pṛthak pṛthak, Śaṅkhān dadhmuḥ pṛthak pṛthak.

So along with all the other warriors, Sanjaya continues to narrate: Drupada and the Draupadeyāḥ—not only Drupada, but the sons of his daughter Draupadī, all of them. And dropping down to the third line: Sāubhadraḥ—the son of Subhadrā—Abhimanyu, who is mahābāhuḥ, he has mighty arms. He is a mighty son of Subhadrā.

All of them, in the final line: dadhmuḥ—they all blew; śaṅkhān—their conches. They all blew their conches pṛthak pṛthak—individually. Individually, all of these great warriors blew their conches.

And the second line: sarvaśaḥ pṛthak pṛthak—sarvaśaḥ, all over. They were gathered and spread out across the battlefield, and they all blew their conches pṛthak pṛthak, separately. Pr̥thivīpate—and here Sanjaya addresses King Dhṛtarāṣṭra. Pr̥thivīpate is “king of the land,” master of the land. It’s a respectful name for a king. “O king,” O King Dhṛtarāṣṭra, all of these great warriors were blowing individually upon their conches—sarvaśaḥ, all over the battlefield.

But, importantly, not both sides of the battlefield—it’s significant here that Sanjaya has been narrating the Pandava warriors, not the Kauravas. So remember that all of these conches and drums and horns and all of it—it began with Bhīṣma on the Kaurava side. But then Sanjaya went on to narrate everyone on the Pandava side who was blowing their conches.

Why? Because apparently—and we’ll get this in the very next verse—the Pandavas appeared to make more noise. They blew their horns more noisily, even though they were fewer in number. The noise generated by the Pandava armies was more than that of the Kaurava armies.

And we learn that from the very next: Sanjaya continues to narrate. He says: sa ghoṣo dhārtarāṣṭrāṇāṁ hṛdayāni vyadārayat—that sound, referring to the Pandavas blowing upon their conches and their drums and horns—sa ghoṣaḥ, that uproar—vyadārayat, pierced; hṛdayāni, the hearts of the dhārtarāṣṭrāṇām—of the sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra. That sound vyadārayat, pierced the hearts of all those in the Kaurava army—of the sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra in general, and of Duryodhana in particular.

Look at this: all the warriors on both sides of the battlefield were blowing their conches. But because the Pandavas apparently blew their conches so loudly, it pierced the hearts of the Kauravas. And I guess the expression would be: the great sound struck fear into the hearts of the sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra—struck fear into the hearts of the Kaurava army.

And just to show that Sanjaya here is emphasizing the might and strength of the Pandava army, and he is narrating this to the blind king Dhṛtarāṣṭra, who at this point is probably getting pretty uncomfortable—quite concerned.

Not only did it strike fear into the hearts of the Kauravas, but also in the last line: tumulaḥ anunādayan, tumulaḥ—there’s our nice word again—tumult, tumultuous noise. That tumultuous noise anunādayan—literally, echoed. Anunāda is a sound; anunādayan is an echo, a sound after, a resounding. So that sound anunādayan, it echoed, it resounded.

Nābhaḥ ca pṛthivīṁ ca eva—in the sky and on the earth. So in all directions, in the sky and the earth, that sound echoed. Here Sanjaya is presenting this sense of the overpowering sound created in particular by the Pandava army.

I think that’s enough of the conches—quite elaborate. This is the style of the Mahābhārata. This first chapter of the Bhagavad Gītā, as I said in the introduction, is really a continuation of the story that we find in the Mahābhārata. And that story continues through the entire first chapter and the beginning part of the second chapter. So this is nice—gives you an idea of the style and richness of the storytelling that takes place in the Mahābhārata.

Then we continue. The subject of the sentence—you have to go way down into the last line: Pāṇḍavaḥ. Again, Pāṇḍavaḥ can refer to any of the sons of Pāṇḍu, but here it refers specifically to Arjuna. Atha—then Pāṇḍavaḥ—Arjuna, back up to the first line: dṛṣṭvā—having seen; dhārtarāṣṭrān—the sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra, the army of the Kauravas. Having seen them—who was vyavasthitān? Having seen the army vyavasthitān, assembled—assembled there on the battlefield. Arjuna is facing the opposing army of the Kauravas.

Then Arjuna—Arjuna here who is called kapidhvaja. Another story—Arjuna, whose chariot bears the dhvaja, the flag or emblem of kapi. Kapi, of course, is a monkey—not just any monkey, but Hanuman. There’s a long story I won’t narrate it here, about how Hanuman wanted to accompany Arjuna on the battlefield, so he took the form of this flag or emblem. Interesting story, but we’ll leave it aside here. So Arjuna, whose chariot bears the emblem or flag of Hanuman—

Then what did Arjuna do? Dhanur, in the last line, dhanur udyamya—udyamya, picking up his dhanuḥ, his bow. Arjuna lifted his bow—pravṛtte śastra-sampāte—śastra is weapon, sampāte, as weapons were being prepared; pravṛtte, being prepared. Śastra pravṛtte, as something was taking place—as what was taking place? Śastra-sampāte—as all the weapons were being prepared. So Arjuna picks up his bow and all the other warriors are also preparing their weapons—their bows, their spears, their clubs. So as all the weapons from all the warriors were being prepared, the sentence continues.

Note: the sentence isn’t complete here. This first verse, by the way—I should mention that verses are not sentences. A sentence can begin in one verse and conclude in the next. A single verse can contain several sentences, so there’s no strict connection between sentence and verse. Here, this verse is the beginning of a sentence. The sentence concludes in the next verse.

So here, Arjuna, having looked across the battlefield, seeing all the warriors assembled there on the other side—the Kaurava warriors—seeing them prepare their weapons, lift their bows, lift their spears, lift their clubs—Arjuna also lifted his bow.

And then the sentence concludes: Hṛṣīkeśaṁ tadā vākyam idam āha mahīpate—tadā, and then; idam vākyam, this statement; āha, he said. Who said? Arjuna said. Who did he say it to? Hṛṣīkeśaṁ—as you saw before, he said it to Śrī Krishna. Mahīpate, again—Sanjaya addressing King Dhṛtarāṣṭra. “O King, O Mahīpate”—tadā, then Arjuna said the following words to Lord Krishna.

And before we see what Arjuna said, it would be important to know how Śrī Krishna ended up as Arjuna’s charioteer.

Now Śrī Krishna had a very unique role with the Pāṇḍavas in general and Arjuna in particular. For the Pāṇḍavas in general, he was a highly respected advisor, who was somewhat understood as an avatāra. This is a little complicated. Earlier in the Mahābhārata, Śrī Krishna revealed his cosmic form in the palace before the war took place. I should mention, some of you know of the famous Viśvarūpa Darśana, Śrī Krishna’s revelation of his cosmic form, which takes place in the eleventh chapter of the Bhagavad Gītā.

But that’s not the only time in the Mahābhārata where Śrī Krishna revealed his cosmic form. He did so several times, and one of those times was before the war took place, where Śrī Krishna revealed his cosmic form to everyone in the palace. At that point, Śrī Krishna was apparently trying to shake up Duryodhana for the sake of dissuading him from fighting this terrible war. Obviously, it didn’t work. Śrī Krishna revealed his cosmic form and apparently, Duryodhana thought that was some kind of magic trick—Duryodhana didn’t take it seriously. But of course, it was serious. I believe the other Pāṇḍavas were also present there, so they saw Śrī Krishna display his cosmic form. They knew that Śrī Krishna wasn’t an ordinary person.

Interesting.

But then there’s another event, and we have to recall several of these events to really understand the setting of the Bhagavad Gītā. The setting of the Gītā is that Śrī Krishna and Arjuna are together there in the chariot. How is it that Śrī Krishna ends up as Arjuna’s charioteer? Generally, warriors have specially trained charioteers. Śrī Krishna was not a charioteer at all. Śrī Krishna was, in fact, the head of his own army. Śrī Krishna had an entire army. He was the head of a kingdom. How does this great king—Śrī Krishna, a ruler—end up as Arjuna’s charioteer?

There’s a wonderful story, and it’s important to know this story to understand the context of the Bhagavad Gītā.

Let’s remember. Some of you know this story well. If you don’t remember it or haven’t heard it, it’s worth hearing.

Before the battle took place, both Arjuna and Duryodhana were engaged in forming alliances with other kingdoms—with other kings—trying to build up their armies and build up the strength of their sides respectively. Both Arjuna and Duryodhana knew that Śrī Krishna had a mighty army—a tremendous army. So the story goes—an interesting story—both Arjuna and Duryodhana went to meet Krishna. They both arrived at the same time—very unique timing. Interesting timing. They arrived at Śrī Krishna’s palace at the exact same time, and at that time Śrī Krishna happened to be sleeping. He was in his room, sound asleep.

Arjuna and Duryodhana arrived. They probably exchanged glances—when we talk about “daggers coming out of their eyes”—I suppose daggers were coming out of Arjuna’s eyes toward Duryodhana and out of Duryodhana’s eyes toward Arjuna. They both went to Śrī Krishna’s room to speak to him. They both saw that Śrī Krishna was sound asleep, and they were both respectful enough not to wake him—so they waited.

Duryodhana took a chair right at Lord Krishna’s head—at the head of the bed. Arjuna apparently stood very respectfully at the foot of Śrī Krishna’s bed. So you can see the attitudes of these two being displayed—Arjuna with his hands folded, waiting patiently at the feet of Śrī Krishna, and Duryodhana kind of arrogantly waiting at the head of Śrī Krishna’s bed.

The story is very clever.

Finally, Śrī Krishna wakes up and sits up in bed. When Śrī Krishna sits up, he’s now facing Arjuna—with his back to Duryodhana. Very interesting moment. So Śrī Krishna wakes up and sees Arjuna and says, “Oh Arjuna, you’ve come.” And Arjuna says, “Yes, I came to seek your help in battle.” And of course, now Duryodhana must get upset. He says, “Wait a minute, I’m also here! Don’t ignore me.” He says this to Krishna. Krishna turns around and says, “Oh, you’re here also?” I don’t know exactly how it came off, but I can imagine—in my imagination—Krishna says, “Oh, you too?”

Anyway, so they’re both there, and they both explain—both Arjuna and Duryodhana—how they’ve come to seek Śrī Krishna’s support in the battle that’s about to take place. And they both ask for Śrī Krishna’s support.

Now, Śrī Krishna is in a tricky position. He’s related to both sides of the family, and so he’s duty-bound to help them both. So Śrī Krishna says, “Okay, I will help both of you.” And the way I’ll help you, Śrī Krishna says, is: “One of you can have my vast army, with all the warriors, with all the horses, with all the elephants, and with all the weaponry. One of you can have my entire army. The other one of you can have me—and me alone—with the condition that I won’t fight. I won’t lift a weapon.”

So: “You can choose. One of you can have me and me alone, with the condition that I won’t fight; and the other can have my great army.”

Then Duryodhana says, “Okay, then I choose—” but Śrī Krishna stops him and says, “Wait a minute. Who said you can choose first?” Duryodhana is younger than Arjuna. Arjuna is his baby cousin. And the tradition, of course, is that the younger ones always wait—the elder gets to choose first. So Duryodhana is quite upset, but he has no choice but to acquiesce, and he allows Arjuna to choose first.

Who does Arjuna choose? Arjuna chooses Krishna—for several reasons. Arjuna has this gut feeling that Śrī Krishna is someone very special. Arjuna has not yet seen the Viśvarūpa—the cosmic form that’s going to be displayed later in Chapter 11—but Arjuna knows that Śrī Krishna is someone divine, someone special. They’re also close friends. So, for all of these reasons, Arjuna chooses Śrī Krishna to be on his side.

Duryodhana, then, is delighted to receive the vast army of Śrī Krishna—not disappointed at all.

And what happens then is: Śrī Krishna has agreed to help Arjuna, but Śrī Krishna said, “But I won’t fight.” So the arrangement develops: the charioteer doesn’t do the fighting. So Śrī Krishna, by becoming Arjuna’s charioteer, can constantly be on the battlefield with Arjuna, guiding him, leading him at all times—but without fighting.

So in this way, Śrī Krishna becomes Arjuna’s charioteer.

Later, when the battle is fought—

It’s a good place to conclude our class. We’ll continue next time.