The Bhagavad Gita Revisited

The following excerpts are taken from the Bhagavad-Gita, the teachings of Krishna, which comprise the sixth book of the great Indian epic called the Mahabharata.

The Mahabharata is set in that transitional time between the end of the Dwarpara Yuga and our own Kali Yuga— according to most traditional calculations, somewhere around 5,000 years ago.

Dwapara was a great age; a time when Divine Knowledge pervaded the fabric of everyday life and the attributes of lucidity and purity found expression in all human endeavors. Lucidity and purity are expressions of Sattva Guna. In the Vedic teaching there are three gunas, Tama, Raja, and Sattva, that color the expression of all gross, subtle, and mental energies—and the highest of these three gunas among the trinity is Sattva Guna. Sattva Guna leads to the state of Gunateeta, described by Upasani Maharaj, as “the state devoid and beyond the Gunas,” i.e. God- Realization.

In the beginning of Dwarpara Yuga, life was guided by the manifestation of Divine Knowledge, and the ascendancy of Sattva Guna over Tama Guna and Raja Guna. But by the end of Dwarpara Yuga, life fell under the shadow of Tama Guna —the expression of ignorance and dark cruelty—and the shadow of Raja Guna—the expression of the unbridled pursuit of worldly pleasures and possessions. Consequently as the next age of Kali Yuga dawned, the ability to think, speak, and act truthfully was in decline and life became growingly selfish and deceitful.

Mahabharata means great family—the great family of humanity, but as the shadow grew longer, and Dwarpara Yuga inevitably turned to Kali Yuga, the great family had become divided by greed and distrust. It is a long story, but eventually the two sides of the family, the Kauravas and the Pandavas, were arrayed on the battlefield poised for war. Krishna, the Avatar, had done all that He could to avoid the confrontation, but even He could not stem the tide of destiny.

In the great battle, Krishna stood with the Pandavas, who represented the embodiment of Sattva Guna, against the Kauravas who embodied Raja and Tama Gunas. In fact, it was Krishna himself who drove the chariot of Arjuna, the Pandava prince and greatest of all warriors, into war.

It fell to the exalted status of Arjuna to throw down the gauntlet that would begin the war. Lord Krishna drove the chariot onto the battlefield between the two opposing sides, but Arjuna balked. Seeing the faces of both sides— faces of his brothers and kin, his teachers, and respected elders, and realizing that war would only bring suffering and death to all, he froze with indecision. Seeing his hesitancy, Krishna asked, “What are you doing? Why do you hesitate? Throw down the gauntlet to begin the war.”

“I cannot!” Arjuna replied, “How can I start this war and bring death upon all of these people?” And so it came to pass, that right there and then, between the two armies poised for war, Krishna taught Arjuna the Great Teachings known as the Bhagavad-Gita.

“He who shall say, ‘Lo! I have slain a man!’

He who shall think, ‘Lo! I am slain!’ those both know naught!

“Life cannot slay. Life is not slain!

“I say to thee, weapons reach not that Life,

“Flames burn it not, waters cannot overwhelm it, not dry winds wither it.

“Unentered, all-arriving, stable, sure, invisible, ineffable,
By word and thought uncompassed, ever all itself — thus is the Soul declared!” – Krishna

Krishna is speaking from His direct experience of illusion and reality. These bodies of ours, these bodies we cherish so deeply, exist only in the illusion and delusion of a great dream. It is the dream of us and others. Our joys and sorrows, successes and failures, births and deaths all seem so real— until we wake up.

But if it is really a dream, yet our experience tells us that it is real, then how should we act in the world—moment by moment, day by day? This was Arjuna’s question—our question.

In the conversation that follows, Krishna speaks to Arjuna about the life of action and the contemplative life of meditation. He extols the virtues and shortcomings of both, saying; “Live in action! Labor! Make thine acts thy piety…” while also counselling; “Yet the right act is less, far less, than the right-thinking mind. Seek refuge in thy soul, have there thy heaven.”

And so Arjuna remains confused. He asks Krishna which of these two paths is the better way to attain the Supreme Reality.

Seeing Arjuna’s mind impaled on the horns of this dilemma, Krishna slips between the horns saying that the two paths are, in fact, really one:

“Yet these (two paths) are one! By shunning action; nay, and none shall come by mere renouncements unto perfection.”

We have probably all heard the saying, “…to be in the world, but not of the world.” This is quite consistent with Christ’s words to His disciples;

“Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and save for God what is God’s.”

But Arjuna’s questions persist—our questions persist—and in order to explain the why and how of His proclamation, Krishna begins to talk about the three qualities that inform action—namely our friends Sattva, Raja, and Tama Gunas.

In the fourteenth chapter of the Bhagavad Gita Krishna says, “Sattva, Raja, and Tama—so are named the qualities of Nature—Lucidity, Passion, and Ignorance. The three bind down the changeless Spirit in the changeful flesh, though sweet Sattva by purity living unsullied and enlightened, binds the sinless Soul to happiness and truth; while Raja, being kin to appetite and breeding impulse and propensity binds by tie of works the embodied Soul, Oh Kunti’s son! But Tama, begot of Darkness, blinding mortal men, binds down their souls to stupor, sloth, and drowsiness.”

There is a saying, “Good is not God,” another by Meher Baba, “The saint is bound by a golden chain, the sinner by a spiked one—but the goal is to be free of all chains.” From this we can conclude that even too much Satva Guna is a hindrance to attaining the Supreme Reality. This is why Krishna counsels Arjuna that one should rise above all the Gunas.

“When, watching life, the living man perceives that the only actors are the Qualities (the Gunas), and knows what rules beyond the Qualities, then he comes to Me! The soul passing forth from the Three Qualities— whereby arises all bodies—overcomes Birth, Death, Sorrow, and Age; and drinketh deep the undying wine of Amrit,” (the Eternal Bliss of Union with God).

Of course Arjuna is more than interested at this point, and asks Krishna;

“Oh my Lord! Which be the signs to know him that hath gone past the Three Modes (Gunas)? How does he live? What is the way that leads him safe beyond the Threefold Modes?”

Krishna responds; “He who with equanimity surveys luster of goodness, strife of passion, sloth of ignorance; without anger, nor wish to change them: who sits a sojourner and stranger in their midst unruffled, standing off, saying serene when troubles break, ‘These be the signs!’

“He unto whom—while centered in the Self—grief and joy sound as one word; to whose deep-seeing eyes the clod, the marble, and the gold are one; whose equal heart holds the same gentleness for lovely and unlovely things, firm-set, well-pleased when praised or blamed; satisfied with honor or dishonor; unto friends and unto foes alike in tolerance, detached from undertakings—he is named Surmounter of the Qualities.”

The teachings of the Bhagavad-Gita were not new—even in the time of Krishna.

“This deathless Yoga (these teachings), this deep union, I taught to Vivaswata, the Lord of Light.”

There is great significance in this statement by Krishna because Vivaswata is a name associated with the Sun. So, Krishna is saying that indeed He has been around for a long ling time!

“Vivaswata gave it to Manu (his son) who passed it down the line to all My Royal Rishis. Then with years the truth grew dim and perished, noble prince!
Now once again I will declare to you this ancient lore, this mystery supreme—seeing I find you my devotee and friend.”

But Arjuna is puzzled. How can this same being have been around since the beginning of time? He asks;

 

“How shall I comprehend this thing You say, ‘From the beginning it was I who taught…?’”

To this Krishna responds revealing the nature of Divine Incarnation—the Avatar—the Christ—the Messiah—the Ancient One who comes again and again, in different guises and different forms ;

“Manifold the renewals of My birth have been, Arjuna! And of your births, too! But Mine I know, and yours you know not, oh Slayer of the Foes! Albeit I be unborn, undying, indestructible, the Lord of all things living; not the less by Maya, by My magic which I stamp on floating Nature-forms, the primal vast—I come, and go, and come.

“When righteousness declines O Bharata! When Wickedness is strong, I rise, from age to age, and take visible shape, and move a man among men, succoring the good, thrusting the evil back, and setting Virtue on her seat again.”

It is the story of the Avatar, The Ancient One, The Highest of the High, The Christ, The Buddha—His Names are many, His shapes are many—He dons them all like we put on clothes appropriate to the situation and the time.

And Arjuna believes in the divinity of Krishna and by His teachings his darkness is dispelled, but Arjuna still sees Him as a man and so asks Krishna to reveal Himself—reveal His Godhood.

“If this can be, if I may bear the sight, make Yourself visible…show me your  very Self, the Eternal God!”

And Krishna obliges His beloved devotee.

“Gaze then Arjuna! I manifest for you those hundred thousand shapes that clothe My Mystery: I show you all my semblances—infinite, rich, divine—My changeful hues, My countless forms, see in this face of Mine…Behold! This is the universe! Look! What is live and dead I gather all in One—in Me! Gaze, as thy lips have said, on God Eternal, Very God! See Me! See what thou prayest!”

Krishna then tells Arjuna that what he wishes to see cannot be seen with earthly eyes, “therefore I give to you other eyes, new light! Now look! This is my glory, unveiled to mortal sight.”

And right there, on the battlefield, between the two armies poised for war, Krishna reveals to Arjuna His Universal Form.

I find it interesting that in the story, when Krishna reveals His Universal Form to Arjuna, it is Sanjaya, who narrates the story. Sanjaya is Dhritarashtra’s advisor. Dhritarashtra is the blind king who has fathered the Kauravas warriors.

Sanjaya tells Dhritarashtra that Krishna is now displaying to Arjuna all of the splendor, wonder, and dread of His Almighty-head.

“Out of countless eyes beholding, out of countless mouths commanding countless mystic forms enfolding; in one Form supremely standing, countless radiant glories wearing, countless heavenly weapons bearing, crowned with garlands of star-clusters, robed in garb of woven lusters, breathing from His perfect Presence breaths of every subtle essence of all heavenly odors; shedding blinding brilliance; overspreading—boundless, beautiful—all spaces with His all-regarding faces—so He showed! And sore amazed, thrilled, overfilled, dazzled, and dazed, Arjuna knelt, and bowed his head, and clasped his palms and cried, and said…”

Try to imagine, if you can, what Arjuna sees. He sees the earth, its moon and sun, the solar system; all solar systems that make up our galaxy; all galaxies; the entire creation coming into existence and then being absorbed through Krishna’s Divine Form.

Try to imagine that all of creation is less than even a speck when compared to the Subtle World with all its powers and experiences, heaven and hell, angels and gods, and all divine beings; and that the Subtle World is less than even a speck when compared to the  Mental World, the abode of Archangels and real Saints—the world of Mind itself.

Try to imagine all these three worlds being born and existing and then being absorbed—crushed—between the teeth of Krishna’s Divine Form.

This is what Arjuna saw while standing on the battlefield between the two armies of the Pandavas and the Kauravas poised and ready for war.

Arjuna exclaims; “You fashion men and then devour them all, one with another, great and small alike! The creatures who you fashion you then take within your flaming jaws—lapping them up!

“Lord God! Your terrors strike from end to end of earth, filling life full, from birth to death, with deadly, burning, lurid dead! Ah Vishnu! Make me know why is it is that You appear so? Tell me, who You are who feasts upon the dead!?”

Seeing within Krishna Universal Form the aspect of Shiva—The Destroyer—reignites Arjuna’s ambivalence regarding the war and his role in it. Krishna responds thusly;

“Arise Arjuna! Destroy your foes! (It is) by me they fall—not you! The stroke of death is dealt them now, even as they show thus gallantly. Arjuna, you are My instrument and it is I who bid them perish! You will only be the slayer  of the slain!”

Apparently, Arjuna gets it—gets who Krishna really is—and after praising Him in every way utters, what I think is a very interesting observation—how easy it is when graced with the familiarity of a Divine Presence, to forget that He is not like we; or as Meher Baba reminded us on more than one occasion, “I come down and laugh and play with you—but never forget, I am God!”

Arjuna says, “For you are All! And if in anger now, You should remember I did think You my friend, speaking with easy speech, as men use each to each, and did call You ‘Prince,’ yet never comprehending Your hidden majesty, Your might, and Your majesty; and in my heedlessness, or in my love, on journey, or in jest, or when we lay at rest, sitting at council, straying in the grove, alone, or in the throng, did do You the most Holy, wrong, then forgive me for that witless sin!”

Arjuna then asks Krishna to show him once again His personal form—His human form:

“Now I know that you are Father of all below, of all above, and of all worlds within, as so with all reverence I ask Your grace, as father to a son, as friend to friend, as one who loves to his lover, turn your face in gentleness and mercy upon me on and show me once more Your visage that I know and let me once again behold the form I loved most of all, my Charioteer, in Krishna’s kind disguise.”

To his request Krishna replies;  

“Let trouble shake your heart no more because your eyes have seen My terror and My glory. As before I have been so will I be again for thee; with lightened heart behold!”

“Then back again the semblance dear of the well-loved charioteer; peace and joy it did restore, when Prince Arjuna beheld once more, Mighty God’s form and face clothed in Krishna’s gentle grace.”—Sanjaya

With Arjuna’s earthly sight and familiar state returned, his heart beats calm, his mind can think, and Krishna tells him of the rarity of his experience.

“Yes, it was wonderful and terrible to view Me as you did, dear Prince—to see me as the gods see me! Yet not by study of the sacred texts, nor from sacrifice, nor penance, nor gift-giving, nor with prayer shall any so behold Me as you have seen Me!

“Only by fullest service, perfect faith, and uttermost surrender am I known and seen and entered into, Indian Prince! Who does their all for Me: who finds Me in all, adores Me always—and  loves all that I have made, and loves Me as an end in itself, that person  Arjuna, comes to Me!”  

There are numerous paths that lead to God-Realization; but here, in this passage, Krishna reveals the highest path—the path of Love. It is so simple, one needs no special talents or intellect; no diet, or dress, or mode of life, or sacrifice, or practice is necessary—only love for God—only love for the God-Man—the Christ—the Avatar.

Krishna then goes on to make a distinction between worship of the personal and the impersonal states of God;

“Whoever serve Me as I show Myself, constantly true, in full devotion fixed, those hold I very holy. But those who serve and worship Me as The One, Invisible, Unrevealed, Unnamed, Unthinkable, Uttermost, All-Pervading, Highest; who adore Me thus, mastering their senses, cultivating an impartial mind that looks upon all without distinction, joyful in response to all acts of goodness, these blessed souls come unto Me.
Yet this path (of service and devotion to the Impersonal State of God) is most difficult to tread. It is an invisible path that can scarce be trod by man.

“But as for those who live their lives renouncing self for Me, full of Me, fixed to serve only the Highest, night and day musing on Me, who clasps Me with heart and mind, whose soul clings fast to Me!—him will I swiftly lift up from life’s ocean of distress and death, to dwell with Me on High!”

But Krishna is also a pragmatist—the Avatar and all the Perfect Masters are always, as I have learned, pragmatists. These Perfect Ones never stand on ceremony, are always adaptable to every situation, and are always here for us only. The Avatar never gives up on us, never gives up on anyone or anything.  

“But if your thought droops from such height; if you find that you are unable to remember me constantly in your body and soul, do not despair!

“Instead give me service! Seek to reach Me by worshiping Me with steadfast will.

“But if you cannot do that, them do your work for Me, toil in works pleasing to me! For he who labors right for Love of Me shall in the end attain!

“And if even in this your heart fails, then bring Me your failure! Find refuge in Me! Let go of failure or success — the fruits of labor— renouncing even hope itself for Me, then come with humble heart,  for, though knowledge is greater than diligence, yet worship is better than knowing, and renouncing better still, for near to renouncing — very near — dwells  Eternal Peace.”

I find it interesting that in this statement Krishna has made what appears to be the lowest path the highest — the fruit of failure becoming the requisite for renunciation. Is this not an expression of God’s mercy and compassion?

“Who does not hate any living thing, being himself kindly and harmless, compassionate, exempt from arrogance and self-love, unmoved by good or ill, patient, contented, firm in faith, mastering himself, true to his word, always seeking Me heart and soul, vowed unto Me, that man I love!

“Who troubles not his kind, and is not troubled by them; free of wrath, living beyond gladness, grief, or fear, that man I love!

“Who does not chase after his desires, looking here and there with longing, free of sin, serene, well-balanced, unperplexed, working with Me, yet from all works detached, that man I love!

“Who fixed in faith on Me, dotes upon none, scorns none, rejoices not and grieves not, unperturbed when good or evil manifests or departs, that man I love!

“Who keeps an equal heart for friend and foe alike, equally bearing shame and glory; who remains at peace in heat and cold, pleasure and pain; abides without desire and endures praise or calumny with passionless restraint, linked by no ties to earth, steadfast in Me, that man I love!

“But most of all I love those happy ones who without effort or awareness live life in single-minded fervid faith and love unseeing, drinking the blessed nectar of my Being!”

And in the end, Krishna turns to Arjuna and once again counsels him to fight. This war was inevitable and even the Avatar could not stop it. The forces of destiny had been fixed; there was no way out.

Could not God Himself stop a war? There is an old story about a candidate for the priesthood who was being examined by a bishop, and a question regarding God’s omnipotence was asked of the candidate who responded by saying that even God cannot do everything. “And what is it that God cannot do?” asked the Bishop. The candidate answered calmly, “Even God cannot beat the ace of spades with a deuce of clubs.”

Stopping the war would destroy the game—His game. And what is His game? It is the game of awakening God to God’s own Reality—His own true Self—our own true Self—our own Divine Reality.

And so it was time for Arjuna to commence and fight the war; but the real question was how he should fight; how he should act; how he should hold himself.

“Do all you do for Me! Renounce for Me! Sacrifice heart and will and mind for Me! In faith of Me all dangers you will vanquish by My grace. But, if instead you trust to yourself, forgetting Me, then you will perish!

And then Krishna reveals to Arjuna that, in fact, Arjuna has no power to stop the war either—that Arjuna has no power to not fight. Thinking that he does, is just another delusion.

“If this day, relying on yourself, you say, ‘I will not fight!’ vain will your resolution prove, for the qualities of your nature spurred by fair illusions will rise within you and prompt you to the very actions you have disavowed and you will be lost.

“Arjuna, I am the Master that lives in your heart; it is I who pulls the strings and you who dance to My tune. Trust Me, your Master, and come to Me for your nourishment and your relief. Oh prince of men, only then, by My grace, will you gain the uttermost repose, the Eternal Place.”

Then Krishna offers His last words to Arjuna, revealing the unique relationship of God and man and the love that God, in the form of the Avatar, has for each and every one of us—for all of His creation—for each and every state of Himself.

“Arjuna, you are precious to Me! Hear My last words; I tell this to you for your comfort. Give Me your heart! Adore Me! Serve Me! Cling to Me in faith and love and reverence; and I promise that you shall come to Me! For you are sweet to Me.

“So let go of those archaic rites and writs of duty! Fly to Me alone! Make Me your refuge, and I will free your soul of all of its sins. Be of good cheer!”

As Meher Baba said; “Don’t worry, be happy!”

In the Bhagavad Gita Krishna is saying that there are numerous ‘ways’ to reach the Supreme Reality. There is meditation and contemplation; works done with an attitude of renunciation and detachment; living life in the knowledge that “all things shall pass.” But it is also pretty clear that Krishna is saying that of all the ‘ways’, the best and the highest, is to hold on to Him—the Avatar—the Ancient One—the Godman.

Meher Baba wrote/dictated a book called God Speaks. In it He answers many questions about how the process of God Realization works through the dream of creation and the mechanics of evolution, reincarnation, and involution of consciousness.

 I have read God Speaks many times over the past thirty-five or so years and have come to the conclusion that God Speaks is God’s story; it is Meher Baba’s story—the story of the Avatar—the Ancient One—the Godman. In other words He is telling us who He is.

But just imagine the difficulty of the task. Let’s say that you were suddenly to awaken on another world inhabited by beings that have never heard of or seen a human being, or have even heard of the planet Earth. What would you tell them when they begin to ask you who you are? “Well, I’m named Michael; I’m a musician, and I live on this planet called Earth…”

But that approach wouldn’t work because in all these answers there is an underlying assumption that the beings you are talking to understand what it is to be human. You would have to first explain what it is to be human. That would be a little difficult, no doubt. Now, by extension, how can the Avatar begin to explain to us who He is—that He is God in human form and what God in human form means?

God Speaks is His explanation—His story—and it takes Meher Baba 159 pages of the 201 pages of principle text (2nd Edition), before He even mentions the word Avatar. He is like an artist painting the under-painting, background, and all of the other characters from stone to man to angels and saints, before painting himself into the canvas.

“Hence, at the end of every cycle, when God manifests on earth in the form of man and reveals His divinity to mankind, He is recognized as the Avatar—the Messiah—the Prophet. The direct descent of God on earth as the Avatar is that independent status of God when God directly becomes man without undergoing or passing through the processes of evolution, reincarnation, and involution of consciousness. Consequently, God directly becomes God-Man, and lives the life of man amongst mankind, realizing His divine status of the Highest of the High, or Ancient One, through these (five) Qutubs or Sadgurus, or Perfect Masters of the time.”—God Speaks, page 159

Meher Baba goes on to make the distinction between the Avatar and other God-Realized individuals. Then returning to the unique status of the Avatar He says on page 162:

“In this manner, infinite God, age after age, throughout all cycles, wills through His infinite mercy to effect His presence amidst mankind by stooping down to human levels in human form, but His physical presence amidst mankind not being apprehended, He is looked upon as an ordinary man of the world. When, however, He asserts His divinity on earth by proclaiming Himself the Avatar of the Age, He is worshiped by some who accept Him as God; and glorified by a few who know Him as God. But it invariably falls to the lot of the rest of humanity to condemn Him while He is physically in their midst…

“The Avatar is always One and the same because God is always One and the same, the eternal, indivisible, infinite One who manifests Himself in the form of man as the Avatar, as the Messiah, as the Prophet, as the Buddha, as the Ancient One,—the Highest of the High. This eternally One and the same Avatar is made to repeat His manifestation from time to time, in different cycles, adopting different names and different human forms, in different places, to reveal Truth in different garbs and different languages, in order to raise humanity from the pit of ignorance and help free it from the bondage of delusions.”

Please remember that the story of the Mahabharata is set in a period of time roughly five-thousand years ago and was communicated for thousands of years through the long tradition of oral transmission. This great epic was only later written down in Sanskrit—approximately 1700 years ago— and English translations began to emerge a mere hundred years ago or less.

The question arises; are the words uttered by God immune to the ravages of time? Or in the words of the legendary Sufi Saint Mullah Nasredin, is what we have here, “the soup of the soup of the soup of the chicken your friend brought?”

 Allow me to digress:

A friend knocks on the Mullah’s door one day. “What do you want?” asked the Mullah. “I’ve brought a chicken for your wife to make into a soup.” So the Mullah invites him in, they sit around while the soup is cooked, and then they eat it.
The next day there is another knock on the door. “Who’s there?” asks the Mullah. “I am the friend of your friend who brought the chicken,” the man replies; “can I have some soup?” The Mullah invites him in and goes back to the kitchen. There is only a little soup left, so he adds some water and serves the soup.
Over the next several days, friends of the friends of the friends come to his door asking for soup and the Mullah continues to add more and more water to the soup.

 “This isn’t soup!” states the seventh guest, “this is water!” to which the Mullah replies, “No, it is the soup of the soup of the soup of the soup, etc. etc. of the chicken that your friend of the friend of the friend etc. brought!”

What was it that Krishna told Arjuna?

“You see Me as Time who kills, Time who brings all doom; the Slayer Time come hither to consume.”

So apparently, even the acts of eternal God are not exempt from the effects of time once He has released them into the world. The point was brought home to me one day while I was sitting in Mandali Hall at Meherazad, India with a number of other pilgrims listening to the stories of Eruch Jessawala, one of Meher Baba’s closest followers. Somehow the subject of the Bhagavad Gita came up—perhaps it was something I said—and Eruch offered the following:

“There are so many paintings of Krishna and Arjuna standing next to each other on a golden jeweled chariot. It is really very beautiful, but brother, those chariots of war were not at all like that.

“You see, in those days, the war chariots were built in such a way that the driver (Krishna) sat below the warrior (Arjuna) just above the wheels and had to endure the choking dust, the stench of rotting corpses, unable to even see where He was going. It was the warrior sitting above the driver who directed the driver by kicking him on the shoulders and face.

“You see, it was the Avatar, Beloved God Himself, who accepted the position of the lowest of the low out of love for His lover. What a sacrifice it is that He makes for us.”

And He does it again and again, sacrifices again and again for all time and All Times by taking a human birth and living among us to help each of us in our journeyless journey to God.

Why does He do this? Is that not another way?

There was once a king who asked his spiritual advisor why God comes again and again. The advisor parried the king’s question by saying that it was such a beautiful day, why not first have a special holiday on the kings royal barge.

And so the king gathered a huge retinue of soldiers and family and they departed on the barge. Far from shore, the waters became very turbulent and the mighty barge began to rock and sway. In the middle of this tumult the advisor picked up the king’s youngest son and through him overboard.

The king immediately jumped into the water to save his son.

As soon as they were safely onboard the waters became calm again and the king turned angrily to his advisor. What was the meaning of his cruel act? The advisor calmly replied, “You asked me why God has to come again and again. You could have ordered your soldiers to save your son, but you jumped into the waters first—because of love.”

                                                                                                                                               ©copyright, Michael Kovitz,7.27.2010  

Ganga

Lyn Ott, the painter who painted so many wonderful paintings of Meher Baba, was already legally blind when he met Baba for the first time. At that meeting, Baba noticed that Lyn hadn’t shaved.

“Come feel Baba’s shave,” He said to Lyn. After touching Baba’s face and feeling His shave, Baba asked Lyn what he thought.

Lyn’s reply was that he had never thought that God shaved.

“I am more human than you are,” was Baba’s reply.


 One August day in 1924, while speaking to a small group of followers at His ashram in Sakori, India, Upasani Maharaj began relating a dream that He had the night of the previous day and then again on the night of the following day.

“This dream consists of three parts, He said. “On the previous night’s dream I had an urge for a nature’s call and I began to wonder where I should go for the same. I had to visit a latrine that time; but when I approached it I suddenly found that the place was a part of the house!

“The place was divided into an inner and an outer part by a wall that had an opening without a door. To answer my call, I had to pass through that opening in the wall of the outer part to get into the inner part, and I did.

“When I entered that inner compartment, I found strewn everywhere night-soil in different stages of drying, from an absolute liquid state to dried pieces. You may exclaim as to what it is that I am telling you! But don’t you see that to me, whether the stories are of God or of night-soil, they are one and the same?

“I have told you once that if I have attained Godhood, I have done it through the night-soil and so, is it not natural for me to speak about it and talk in respectful terms about it?

“You may ask if I am suggesting that all of you should do likewise, but how can I tell you what to do when all that we do depends on our Purva Sanskaras—our previous impressions. Anyway, I will relate to you my dream…” – The Talks of Sadguru-Baba Maharaja, Volume II, Part B


In the mind of the average person, thoughts and desires arise as the result of impressions. Impressions are created when actions—gross, subtle, or mental—are performed and experienced. These experienced actions create more impressions…

In other words, the gross, subtle, and mental actions of the average person are the result of impressions stored in the mind. Dreaming is a way of reviewing these impressions.

But the mind of a Perfect Master is quite different.  No desires lurk in His mind. No impressions—gross, subtle, or mental—exist in His mind. And without impressions, no actions—gross, subtle, or mental—are performed or experienced. Yet Perfect Masters appear to do things…

Upasani Maharaj explains that the mind of a Perfect Master is like a mirror—whatever is held up before it is reflected back to the source of the reflection. If the one who stands before the mirror has abundance of papa—due to having committed many faulty actions—then the Master is seen to be disagreeable and unpleasant. On the other hand, when one with an abundance of puna—the result of many selfless and compassionate actions—stands before the mirror of the Perfect Master, the Master is seen to be all bliss and love.

So, how was it that Upasani Maharaj could have a dream, when there was nothing of Himself to instigate it and no ordinary person standing in front of Him at the time? The only answer could be, God! But we are getting a little ahead of our story, so let’s return to Upasani’s dream.


“When I went into the inner apartment, I suddenly found the night-soil to be in a semi-fluid state—almost everywhere in heaps—and it was flowing through the opening in the wall in the outer room. I began to wonder where to go.

“In the inner room the night-soil was in such great heaps that a person going in would have been drowned. I began to wonder as to who might have passed all that night-soil and why nobody ever cleaned that place. I wondered if I had come to a public latrine, and I wondered why the whole thing started flowing out like that.

“I went into the outer room and sat down to relieve myself and noticed how my night-soil and that which flowed out from the inner room merged and became one. I began to shift here and there—by then my feet and buttocks were smeared with night-soil.

“There was, however, no stink or any flies. Was it purified night-soil or what? It was not scented either. In a short while the outer room was filled with it. There was not an inch of space without it to stand on. I began to wonder where it was all coming from, and in that state I woke up.” – The Talks of Sadguru-Baba Maharaja, Volume II, Part B

Upasani’s dream continued the next day. He had fallen asleep while prayers were being dedicated to Him by His followers. He later explained that a lady wearing marks of Saubhagya entered the hut. (These days, the most recognizable mark of Saubhagya is the red dot seen on the forehead of married Hindu women). He described the appearance of the woman saying;

“She looked a simple decent woman—neither very pretty nor very well-dressed. She wore no ornaments.”

Upasani recounts their conversation that I will recall here without quotation marks:

I – Who are you?

She – Have you not recognized me? Yesterday I visited you.

I – You are the same, is it?

She – I am the same; I was flowing out of that inner room.

I – What!

She – You were coming in and I was coming out.

I – Night-soil?

She – Yes.

I – Oh, you are dirty—unholy—you soaked me in.

She – Yesterday I came in that form, but today, I have come in this form.

I – I have not recognized you.

She – I am the Ganga.

I – It was you who was flowing yesterday?

 She – Yes.

I – Are you night-soil?

She – That is my true form.

I – I have seen many a time heaps of night-soil.

She – I was all that.

I – I see; that is why there was no smell or flies.

She – Yes; I am that.


“Oh Mother!
Necklace adorning the worlds!
Banner rising to heaven!
I ask that I may leave of this body on your banks,
Drinking your water, rolling in your waves,
Remembering your name, bestowing my gaze upon you.” – Gangashtakam


The Ganga, also called the Ganges, is a river whose journey begins high in the Himalayas. Fed by numerous rivers and streams, it winds through India and Bangladesh and empties into the sea at the Bay of Bengal. Like all rivers, it can be seen as part of a larger closed circuit of earth and water, sea and sky. The river is considered sacred and for thousands of years devotees have bathed in it, washed in it, worshipped it, and dumped in it. But this description is only part of a greater story…

Long ago, many cycles of yugas before the cycle of yugas that contains our present Kali Yuga, (a cycle of yugas is roughly 438,000 human years) a powerful demon threatened the delicate equilibrium that maintains all of the various forces that sustain the existence of creation. Creation—all of the entire gross, subtle, and mental worlds—is controlled by that one aspect of Almighty God called Ishwar. Ishwar has three aspects, the Creator, the Preserver, and the Destroyer, often represented respectively by the personifications of Brahma, Vishnu, and Mahesh.

And so, when Brahma became aware of the threat to the Creation, He appealed to Vishnu who incarnated as the dwarf Vamana and tricked the demon by asking him to grant him as much of his kingdom as he could measure in three steps. With the first step he covered all of Earth. With the second step he covered all the heavens and while doing that Brahma washed Vishnu’s feet in his kamandula (water pot) from which Ganga would be born. With the third step Vamana pushed the demon back to the underworld.

But Ganga was not originally born as a great river; at first, Ganga was born as a beautiful girl who danced in heaven to the delight of the gods and souls with subtle and mental consciousness—well, perhaps not to delight of all, because in heaven there is always some kind of intrigue and drama going on, and it so happened that Ganga became the recipient of a curse from a powerful rishi named Durvasa. The curse was that Ganga would become reincarnated as a great river in which all humans would seek purification.

Now in heaven, and this heaven is not the heaven of the heaven and hell states described by followers of most religions, but the heaven of the third plane of subtle consciousness as described by Meher Baba, which contains the abodes of gods, angels, and advanced souls, exists the eight Vasus, a category of deity who control and maintain creation’s forces of earth, wind, fire, and space, and the existences of the sun, sky, moon, and stars.

It was these eight Vasus who obtained a vow from Ganga that she would become their mother and as soon as they would incarnate on the earth—this incarnation being the result of a curse put upon them by a great Rishi—that she would manifest on the earth plane and drown them and put an end to their incarnation.

One might raise the question, why the Vasus would not want to incarnate on the earth, but remember that their existence in the higher planes of consciousness was blissful beyond any earthy happiness or delight, and was free of death, disease, and suffering. For the Vasus, the curse of an earthly incarnation was viewed as the worst kind of fate.

The story of Ganga takes many twists and turns, much like her course as an earthly river, but eventually she is called upon to fulfil her destiny and honor the vow she made to the eight Vasus. It is said that she continues to purify the people who bath in her as she, herself, is purified by the real saints who bathe in her waters also.

And so, this is Ganga, the very same one who visited Upasani Maharaj in His dreams.

“All the while she was standing outside the cage and was lying in the cage. I told her not to enter the cage, that I was quite content with her yesterday’s darshana. Then I spoke to her a little more and then she went away. I woke up at this stage, but I began to repent the fact that Ganga herself had come, and now I had lost her. What an unfortunate fellow am I.” The Talks of Sadguru-Baba Maharaja, Volume II, Part B

Upasani Maharaj’s dream continued the next night. In it there is a reference to the month of Sharavan. Sharavan is the fifth month of the Hindu calendar. It is considered a most holy month of the year, for it was in that month, in the distant past of the beginningless beginning, that Lord Shiva, in order to save the worlds, swallowed poison that was released from the churning of the oceans. To help assuage the effects of the deadly poison, gods and holy people offered and continue to offer Him water from the Ganga.

“That night at dawn she came again in my dream; but this time she was inside the cage. I said, ‘I had told you not to come, why have you come again?’ At this juncture I felt like I was passing night-soil. At which point she said, ‘Today is Monday of the month of Sharvana; God alone knows when such a Monday will be available again, and so I felt that I should see you.’

“I asked her as to which Ganga she was. She replied, ‘I am from Kashi. Vishveshvara (a manifestation of Shiva) is there; but I thought I should come here. Now you bathe me and I will bathe you. After all, you are also Ganga so we are both the same. But in order to bathe we have become two, so that we can bathe each other. For, who else is there to bathe me? Hundreds bathe in me, but nobody gives me a bath.’ I said, ‘It is alright, but where is the water?’ She replied, ‘What you saw yesterday is our water.’

“Later we bathed each other; then she took me within herself and I took her within myself; and I can’t say who went where then. I asked her, ‘what is all this?’ She replied, “I will be coming like this off and on.’ And then, as we were mutually seeing each other in ourselves, I woke up and heard the early morning bell, but stayed quiet, lying there, think over my dream.”

My mind is always working—always thinking. Sometimes I am aware of it, but mostly I am not. When I am not, it drags me around; I have no control; it is like a radio that tunes itself to whatever station it wants and demands that I listen to it.

But when I am in a certain state of awareness, I can choose what station to listen to and one of my most favorite stations is the teachings of the real Masters—Perfect Masters and the Avatar. Going deep into Their words—meditating on Their words, pondering upon Their words—brings me such inexpressible joy.

I relive Upasani’s dream in my mind:

His dream is not an ordinary dream for He is not ordinary. He has become God in human form.

God as Ganga visits God as a Perfect Master! What kind of game is this!

Ganga has manifested from the Infinite into the three worlds of illusion. Now Ganga has two states—the original Infinite state which is Eternal and Unmanifest and the manifest finite state of the river. Both states exist simultaneously. 

It is in the finite state that Ganga visits Upasani Maharaj and asks to bathe and be bathed.

I ask myself, “Who is worthy—who is capable—of bathing God?” I conclude, that only God is capable of bathing—purifying—the direct manifest aspect of the Eternal.

These are only the tip of my thoughts—only the very tip. Like Ganga returning off and on like this, may I return again and again to meditate and ponder the great stories and teachings of God. May my inner radio tuner never get stuck in the morass of thoughts and feelings that emanate from the lower stations of my accumulated sanskaras.

“Come, come, come,

Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving,

Ours is not a caravan of despair.

Though you may have broken your vow a thousand times,

Come, come yet again; come.” – Shams e Tabriz (Perfect Master who gave Rumi God-Realization)