Brihadaranyaka Upanishad Ch.1.4 Lecture 25 on 18 April 2026

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Full Transcript (Not Corrected)

Opening Invocation

ॐ जननीम् शरदाम् देविम् रामक्रिष्णम् जगत् गुर्म्

पादपद्मे तयोः स्रित्वाः प्रणमामि मुहुरुमु

Oṁ jananīṁ śaraḍhāṁ deveṁ rāmakriṣṇam jagad-gurum

pādapadmetayosritvā pranamāmi-muhurumuhu


ॐ पूर्णमदः पूर्णमिदं पूर्णात् पूर्णमुदच्यते

पूर्णस्य पूर्णमादाय पूर्णमेवावशिष्यते

ॐ शान्तिः शान्तिः शान्तिः

OM PŪRṆAMADAḤ PŪRṆAMIDAM PŪRṆĀT PŪRṆAMUDACYATE PŪRṆASYA PŪRṆAMĀDĀYA PŪRṆAMEVA VAŚIṢYATE OM ŚĀNTI ŚĀNTI ŚĀNTIH

OM That Brahman is infinite, and this universe is also infinite. The infinite proceeds from the infinite. Taking the infinitude of the infinite universe, it remains as the infinite Brahman alone.

OM Peace, Peace, Peace be unto all.


Introduction: What is Love?

In our last class, we have started a most marvellous topic. And it is so appropriate. Why is it appropriate? Because nowadays, whether it is movies or it is songs or it is a dress or it is conversation, everybody is talking about love, love, love. Do people really understand what is the meaning of love? What is the psychology of love? What is the origin of love? What really a person loves, and why he cannot love?

Everyone is absolutely selfish. The word "selfish" has to be defined as one who is totally preoccupied with the self — one's own self — either from the lower point of view or from the highest point of view.

And this love is equivalent to joy, happiness, ānanda. Everyone only prays for ānanda: Asato mā, Tamaso mā, Mṛtyormā. So, "Let me live without any break. Let me have infinite knowledge. Let me be having infinite joy." So this is the topic.


The Mantra: Bṛhadāraṇyaka Upaniṣad 1.4.8

And this occurs in the first chapter of the Bṛhadāraṇyaka Upaniṣad, fourth section, eighth mantra. And it doesn't really take away from the value, even if we recite it a few number of times. Even the very positing of the Sanskrit words is most marvellous.

Plainly translated: this self is dearer than a son, dearer than wealth, dearer than everything else, because it is the innermost. So two points are beautifully outlined here. The self is dearer than a son, dearer than wealth, dearer than everything else. Why is it so? Because it is the innermost. It is the most wanted. It is the most desired. It is the most striven for.

Even a man wants to die sometimes — forever — only because when a person is deprived and loses all hope: "Perhaps I will never be happy in my entire life or lives. Then I cannot tolerate it."


The Nature of Ātman and Ānanda

So we have already discussed a few points, but first I will go through the entire eighth section, eighth mantra of the fourth section, and then we will discuss further points. So there is nothing dearer than one's own self — that is the first point — and it is dearer than everything. And what is that Ātmā, one's own self? And everything other than one's own self is not dear at all. We will discuss about that point.

Such a person who loves one's own self, who realised that "I am the self, I am Brahman, and I am Ānanda Svarūpa" — such a person, looking at another person: who is this another person? There are only two types of persons in this world. One, those who love the self, Ātman, and those who love everything other than the Ātmā.

So, is there really — the question that comes, a very important question — is there really anybody in this world who doesn't love one's own self? Even if somebody says — say, a patriot, or a lover of the society, any society, irrespective of country, religion, language, etc. — and there are a few Mahātmās, great souls, who do that, like Mahātmā Gāndhi. So for them, there is nothing excluded. But the question is: is there anyone who can love anything in this world other than the Ātman?

Now when we use that word Ātman, the intended meaning that we want to discuss may not be clear. To make it clear, we have to use the appropriate words. Ānanda means — Ātmā means Ānanda. Ātmā and Ānanda are not separate things. So even the most worldly person, who doesn't believe in God, believes — because that is the very nature of a person — "I want to be happy, whether it comes from within or from outside."

So from that point of view, if Ātman is equated with Ānanda: Ātman is Brahman, Brahman is Sat, Cit, Ānanda. I already reminded you — these three words, Sat, Cit, and Ānanda, cannot be separated. Those three are not three separate words. If I feel happy, then that means I am alive, Sat. And if I am feeling happy, I have to be aware, I have to be conscious. "I am not an unhappy person, I am a happy person."


The Distinction Between Worldly and Spiritual Love

Do people know about this? Then what is the difference between — one — everyone wants happiness. What is the difference, then, between a person who loves Ātman and one who doesn't? To put it in plain language, there are people who believe — and they don't use the word Ātman, it is a very special word and that is a better word, actually — but people use the word God. "I love God."

There are many people who might say, "I love God, we love God," but they don't really. They love God in order to get something from Him, and that is not true love. But all Ānanda comes only from God.

What is it? Ātmā is our own true nature. What is our true nature? Ānanda. Ānanda Svarūpaḥ. Śivoham Śivoham. Ānandoham Ānandoham. Sacidānandoham Sacidānandoham. So we love only Ānanda because that is my nature.

And here is a very, very important point: nobody loves anything else excepting oneself. If my nature is Ānanda, I love Ānanda naturally. I never love the opposite, or anything other than Ānanda. And anything other than Ānanda is called Duḥkha, Kaṣṭa, or Nirānanda. Nobody loves it.


Why Nobody Loves Suffering

Why is it so? This is a universal law. Nobody loves Duḥkha. Nobody struggles, when one is happy, to get rid of happiness. But even the slightest difficulty — your leg is becoming painful in one particular position — immediately, unconsciously, you change it. Something is itching. Unconsciously, we stretch our hands to scratch and remove that feeling of itch, because itch means unhappiness, suffering, sorrow.

That is why Bhagavān Buddha's words have to be understood carefully. He said, "Life is nothing but sorrow." What does he mean? He means anything that is outside Ātman — that is what we call life. Life in the world, meaning body, mind, our circumstances, our family, our jobs, etc. And everybody is striving for more and more happiness.

So in this background, we have to understand: nobody loves anything other than Ānanda. What is our problem? Or what is the problem of a worldly person? A worldly person in Sanskrit is called Anātma Priya. Does any person really love anything in this world? Not really. It seems he loves, but he doesn't.

But what is the psychology? The person thinks, "I want to be happy, and only this object can give me happiness." It could be husband, wife, children, parents, friends, anything else — possessions, bank balance, house, car, yacht — everything. So the person loves only Ānanda.


The Two Things Everyone Loves

This is what we discussed. Everybody loves only two things. What are the things? First of all, everybody loves Ānanda and everybody desires only Ānanda. Why do you want to eat a sweet? Because you will get happiness. Why do you want to eat the best mango? Because you want to be happy.

What is the problem? If a person doesn't get what he loves, he will not love. If the same object — and every object is changing — so it might give happiness one time; it is conditional. We will discuss about it later on.

But a person loves, first of all, Ānanda; second, the object through which a person mistakenly thinks that he is getting happiness. And slowly we realise — because of our experiences, through our experiences — that really Ānanda is within ourselves. If we can train our mind to be happy, not to depend — and to understand that happiness doesn't lie in any object, happiness is not the nature of any object.


The Nature of Happiness: The Test of Intrinsic Quality

How do we know? Because the definition of one's own nature is that which never is lost from oneself — like sweetness is not lost from sugar, and sourness is never lost from tamarind. So, like that, whatever is one's nature, that can never be lost. And whatever is lost is a mistaken identity, not real identity.

So, if an object has got happiness — and eternally that object should give happiness — what is the first problem? The object itself has a birth, has a growth, and has a death.

Simple analysis: suppose somebody loves a sweet mango. What type of mango? It should not be a small flower — pollen has turned into mango — nobody loves it. And the mango should go on growing, should go on acquiring sweetness, and it should be ripe properly. Then only will it give the sweetness. And some mangoes have an extraordinarily attractive flavour. So we are all creatures of smells — smelly persons. We love smells. In fact, the taste is nothing but 99% smell, and the rest is what we call sweet, sour, etc.

So any object doesn't have happiness because it has a birth, it becomes old — the mango becomes old, rotten. Nobody loves it. Only when it is in a particular condition, that is the first condition, will it be desirable, enjoyable.

Can anybody derive happiness from that fact? No. Because the enjoyer must fulfil certain conditions. He should be physically healthy, he should be healthy mentally, and there should be no circumstances which threaten that person. If somebody is sitting with a gun: "You eat this first-class mango, otherwise I blow your head into smithereens" — do you think the person will eat? But do you think he is enjoying? No, he knows.

Therefore, the external conditions must be right; the mango should be in the best condition; and his stomach must be in the best condition, at the best time. Even the healthiest person cannot enjoy anything at all times. So if you wake up a person who is deeply, terribly tired and deeply asleep — "I brought your favourite food, enjoy!" — he is likely to injure you for disturbing a greater happiness.

So so many conditions have to be fulfilled, and it should suit a person. Because even if these conditions are fulfilled, if that object doesn't love this man — this person, me or you — then we regret: "Why did I eat?" Because happiness should be such that before eating, after eating, it should leave a pleasant memory, a saṃskāra in the mind. But that is not going to happen in every case.


The Two Categories of People

So the Upaniṣad divides people into two categories. And what is the point I brought out? Everybody loves Ānanda. There is no such thing as a believer in God or non-believer in God. But what is the distinction? A believer in God equates God with happiness. He says, "Since you are happiness, I will love you very naturally."

But suppose, hypothetically, you pray to God, He comes to you, and then He asks you graciously, "Ask a boon of me." And then you say, "I want to be very happy." But God says, "I can't give you happiness because I don't have it, but ask anything — money, jewels, house, best job, power, position, anything else, long life — I'll give you everything."

If we have studied the Kaṭha Upaniṣad, this was the conclusion that Naciketa had come to. Even Yamadharma Rāja says, "I will give you long life. You can enjoy rare objects which are not available on this earth. These heavenly damsels will serve you. Heavenly food will be served to you. Heavenly objects of enjoyment will be constantly at your service." But Yamadharma Rāja knows the psychology of love and Ānanda very well. So he was only testing Naciketa.

But Naciketa says, "All these are useless, because if my mind is disturbed — and the mind can be disturbed in umpteen number of ways — but here, definitely I will be disturbed. How so? Because I have an unfulfilled desire. I want to have self-knowledge. You are evading my question. You are not giving the answer. So without getting the answer, my desire will not be fulfilled. And this desire will be troubling me. And when one desire, a stronger desire, is troubling me, even the fulfilment of all other smaller desires is not going to help me."


Erich Fromm and the Art of Loving

So once again we will talk very briefly about what we discussed, because this is one of the most wonderful topics. There was a great social psychologist. His name was Erich Fromm. And he wrote a marvellous book — a really great book — The Art of Loving. And in the last chapter, he summarises the whole book. But the essence of it — even he did not understand what is the nature of Ānanda, because he is talking purely from a psychological point of view. And he says, "It is an art." That is a great teaching we have to take.

It is an art to love anybody, and much less to speak about God — it is the greatest art. And nobody is going to be an artist unless that person fulfils certain hard conditions and for a long time. Then only such a person has a remote chance of becoming a great artist.

But Vedānta tells us: why do we love Ātman? Because Ātman is of the nature of happiness itself. And happiness requires that I should be alive, I should be existing, and I should be aware of it. Sat, Cit and Ānanda. This is the beautiful psychology.


Even God Must Be Ānanda

So even people will not love God if God were to say, "You can have me, or you can have Ānanda, because I am not Ānanda." If God were to tell this to the devotee — how many devotees would say, "I don't care whether you are happiness or not, I will love you"?

But there are also saints. Caitanya Prabhu was one of them. Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa was one of them, who used to say, "I don't care whether you make me happy or unhappy. I don't care. But I love you." And why do these people love God? That is a question we have to put and get the answer.

Because: "Whether you give me happiness or not, I don't care. But by loving you" — loving means deriving, squeezing the greatest happiness. If any person is foolish enough to say, "I love such and such, but I don't get happiness," he doesn't know what he is talking about. We love only Ānanda. And we don't love what is not giving Ānanda.

But this giving Ānanda — it is a mistake to think it is coming from outside. I am creating Ānanda by creating a particular mental, psychological environment where I say, "I derive the greatest joy." That is what Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa says.


Nobody Loves Anybody: The Example of the Rich Man

Nobody loves anybody. He gives a beautiful example. And we have to study the teachings of Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa in the light of the scriptures. What is the benefit? When the scriptures are understood better, Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is also understood better.

Suppose there is a rich man. Two sorts of people visit him. One sort of people want to get something from the rich man. They praise him, they extol him, and they say, "You are the moon, you are the sun, you are the greatest." But the rich man is intelligent enough to know that these people are selfish — "They want to get something. They are only praising me to get something. They don't really love me." He will say, "Now you get up and go away."

But there are people — if you ask, "Why are you coming here? What do you want?" — who says, "I don't want anything from you. I just love to see you. I love to be with you. I don't want anything from you." And then the rich man will be very happy: "Here is a true lover."


The Sufi Story of Identity in Love

It is identity — which again, if you remember, Swami Vivekānanda's Sufi story. A lover once knocked at the door of the beloved. From within came the question, "Who are you?" He said, "It is me." Second time he knocked. Same question, same answer. Third time he knocked. The same question came. This time, he understood. He says, "It is thee, my beloved. It is not me. It is thee." That means: "I love thee. I am there only to love you." That is true love. And then he found there are no doors — there is no door at all. This is the door that is keeping us away from God, from everybody else.

And when Jesus Christ proclaims, "Love thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and love thy neighbour with all thy soul, with all thy heart" — how come? Because that is the Jñāni's love. The Jñāni doesn't see any difference. If God created, He is the creation. And His creation is only God with name and form, as we discussed. And therefore, loving any object is loving God. But we must be continuously aware of that. "I don't love an object as an object. I love an object as a manifestation of Brahman." That is what it is.


The Jñāni's Warning: What Is Not the Self Will Perish

Let us complete the next part of the mantra. If one — another person — holding the self dear, what to say to another person who says, "I love everything else other than the self as dear"? Then the knower of God, the knower of the self, if he were to say, "You will lose what you hold dear" — and this knower of Brahman is certainly competent to do so — "it will indeed come true."

Very simple. That is: everything other than God is ephemeral, it changes. A knower of Brahman need not come and say, "So your family members will die. Your body will die. You will also die. Your property also." Actually, it is not necessary to say all this. When a person says, "You will die," that means the whole world will be dead with the death of one's own body.

So, anybody who says "I don't love God, I love the world" — whatever he loves will come to an end. And love means happiness, so whatever happiness he is getting will come to an end. And for that, one need not die. Death means limitation.

So, if there is a beautiful mango at this moment, after three days it may become old, rotten. So that ripe mango is, actually, a dead mango — therefore it loses its capacity to make me happy. Or, my stomach has gone bad. Any number of best mangoes or sweets, or money, or any number of people loving such a person, will not — cannot — make that person happy. What does that show? It shows that when I remove my desires, then I remain as myself. And that is the state of highest happiness.


The Evidence of Deep Sleep

And how do we know? Because in deep sleep, we don't get all these things. There is no object, there is no mind — which means there is no waking state, there is no dream state. That means time, space, and causation are completely removed. Then the person feels unlimited, and then he abides in his own self. That is why, uninterruptedly, we forget time, we forget space, we forget causation. That is called forgetfulness of the world. And that gives the greatest peace.

Man will die for the sake of this sleep. Somebody had said — a wise crack had said — that life is meant only for this kind of deep sleep. That is why it is called Ānandamaya Kośa — and for Ānanda only.

So this part of the mantra says: "O my fellow, love God." Instead of saying "love God," in Purāṇic language it says "love the Ātman," because Ātman — you are the Ātman. So you are not loving anybody. You are loving your own self. But other than your own self, everything is perishable. Perishable means it is limited.

So even if an object is in front of us, at one time we loved it because the limitations were less. Now we hate the same object. We may even turn away our attention, our eyes. We may even hate — and this applies even to God also. So you claim, "I love God." But if God fails to provide safety, security, and happiness, the person will gladly, hastily remove God from his very house, from his very mind: "This God is a useless God." So we are all utilitarians.

So whether a Jñāni tells the worldly person that "what you hold here will die" — there is no need to say. That is happening every millisecond of our life, because our body is changing, our mind is changing, and along with that the external world — everything in this world is changing. Changefulness is the very nature of the world. That is why a great philosopher had said that no man steps into the same river twice.


Ātmānam Eva Priyam Upāsīta: Meditate on the Self Alone as Dear

Then what should we do? Ātmānam eva priyam upāsīta — one should meditate upon the self alone as dear. And what is that self? It is infinite. It is one. It is one without a second. And there is no fear, because there is no second. And what is its nature? Sat, Cit, Ānanda — immortality, infinite knowledge, unbroken happiness. That is the nature of the Ātman.

But we may not understand it. So we must have faith in the words of the scripture. But we will not have faith in the words of the scripture just like that — for that we have to choose a person after examination. "This person is an unselfish person. He loves you even if you have nothing to offer. And he is ready to sacrifice his life for your sake." And we have to understand through these signs that he is a knower of Brahman, because his love is not worldly love. His love is: "I love you because you are you." No — "I love you because I am you. There is nobody else other than the Ātman. I am the Ātman. Therefore there is no you, or she, or it, or anything else."

That is why — better understand this — "O Bhṛgu" — or here, disciple: Ātmānam eva priyam upāsīta. Ātman is the dearest, and it is also dearest because it is the nearest. Nearest means not some object which is near — it is nearer than the body, nearer than the mind. If these are destroyed, the pure consciousness will always be there, and "I am that pure consciousness — Śivoham Śivoham." Therefore you realise yourself, and then you will get infinite existence, infinite knowledge, infinite joy.


Yaḥ Ātmānam Eva Priyam Upāste: What the Jñāni Holds Dear Will Never Perish

Ya Ātmānam Eva Priyam Upāste, Na hi asya priyam pramāyukam bhavati — "He who meditates upon the self alone as dear: what he holds dear will not perish." A beautiful expression again. Why does what this person holds dear never perish? Because it is the imperishable Ātman, the deathless Ātman.

So yaḥ Ātmānam Eva Priyam — Ātman alone is Ānanda Sacidānanda Svarūpa, and it is immortal. And that awareness "I am the Ātman" is called Cit. And he who realises it through Sādhana — Na hi asya priyam — what he holds dear, this Ātman, pramāyukam bhavati — it will never ever perish.

So we have already analysed a little bit, and then we go to the beginning. It is dearer than a son, dearer than wealth, dearer than everything else. So why is the Ātmā dearest? How is the Ātmā dearer than everything?


The Mistake of Depending on Sense Objects

So we have also discussed — I will only briefly remind you — that every creature, every living creature, of course human being better than anybody else, loves only two things. First, he wants to be happy — she wants, he wants — everybody. Secondly, by mistake, we all think this Ānanda is coming through the objects of the five sense organs — beautiful sound, beautiful form, beautiful smell, beautiful taste, and beautiful weather, etc.

But Vedānta tells that we all mistakenly think these five objects of the five sense organs are giving or containing happiness, and therefore they are giving me happiness. As we discussed earlier, this is a mistaken notion. Why? Because every object has a birth, what is called sustenance or duration, and it will die. Therefore, to depend upon something which can be for a second — and it includes our own body as an instrument, our own mind — nothing can be depended upon.

But there is something which has no birth, no death, and that is called the Ātmā. So, only two things: we only love happiness, and temporarily we love that object which we think is giving me happiness. Of these two, which is the best? Happiness alone is primary, and every other sense object is secondary. And why do I like happiness? Because that is my very nature. Because when am I happy? I am happy only when I am myself.


The Pañcakośas as a Journey Toward the Ātman

That is why: when I identify myself with the Annamaya Kośa, I am a happy person. When I identify myself with Virāṭ, I am even more happy. Then I discover there is the Annamaya Kośa — even Virāṭ is far from Ātmā. But there is something nearer to that Ātmā.

Just as when we approach a blazing fire, even from a distance we start feeling the heat, and the heat goes on increasing — in a similar way, as we approach the Ātman, our happiness also will increase. So when we discard the Annamaya Kośa and identify with Prāṇamaya Kośa, I am a bit nearer to the Ātman, and so on.

When I move to the Manomaya Kośa — the mind, thoughts — in fact, our thoughts make everything. A poor man can be happy if he has happy thoughts. A rich man is unhappy in spite of everything he has, because of the poor thought or poverty-stricken thought: "I am not happy." That is the worst type of thought anybody can have.

And when the person moves to the Vijñānamaya, he is even nearer to the Ātman. When he moves to the Ānandamaya, he is still nearer — only a thin layer is the obstruction. That is why, after entering the Ānandamaya Kośa, he comes to realise: "I am not a kośa. I am Ānanda."

At the level of the Ānandamaya Kośa, a person clearly realises this is a kośa — and as soon as one realises what is kośa — that which limits — no man wants a limitation. So immediately he will cut it off. Then, from Ānandamaya Kośa, if we remove the Kośa, what remains? Ānanda. That is why: Ānando hyātmā. Brahma Pucchaṃ Pratiṣṭhā.


The Conditionality of Worldly Love

So I love the means of happiness only because it gives me happiness. I love any object so long as it gives me happiness, and the moment it stops giving happiness, I give up loving it — I may even cherish hatred. Look at your everyday life. Whether a husband loses his love for the wife, or a wife loses her love for the husband, or for the children, or for anything in this world — friends are given up, religion is given up, even ultimately God also is given up if I don't get that happiness.

And then, what is the psychology? Once I gain happiness through any object, that object itself loses its importance. Like — as I gave the example — when a person sucks all the sweetness from a sugarcane, he throws it out as obstruction, as rubbish. He just throws it as far a distance as possible.

So our desire for happiness is unlimited and unconditional love, whereas my love for any object — which I mistakenly think gives me happiness — is absolutely conditional. That condition is: "So long as it gives." Whether it gives more or whether it gives less — the less giving, we love less; the more giving, we love more. That is the condition.

But from the Śāstra, from the Guru, we learn that Ātmā alone is happiness, and everything else other than Ātmā is called Anātmā. Anātmā is unhappiness, because the happiness of the Ātmā is its very nature. So it is Ekaṃ Sat, Ekam Eva Advitīyam. That is why Ātman is eternal, Ātman is secondless — therefore it gives eternal happiness.

So children, possessions, house, everything — the whole world — belong to the realm of Anātmā. And whatever is Anātmā is going to change, and every change is called perishing or death. So why is Anātmā unhappiness? Because it is limited and conditional. Simple example: you buy a car — so long as it serves your purpose, you love it; the moment it doesn't, you give it up. So the same thing applies to God also. Nobody will love even God selflessly.


The Love of the Saint: Unconditional and Undifferentiated

But if we find a saint who loves God unconditionally, we have to understand a very important point here: his very love for God gives him the greatest happiness, whether God is of the nature of love or not. It doesn't matter. And the same thing applies to worldly love also: if we think this person gives me happiness — whether that person really gives happiness or not, materially — my thinking, "I derive great happiness," my thought that "this person gives me happiness" — that is the only thing that gives happiness. That means I am generating happiness from within myself.

Now a question comes here. The Upaniṣad says a Jñāni loves everybody. A lover, a saint, loves everybody without any differentiation. The four conditions: he loves everybody unconditionally, and he is ready to sacrifice everything, he doesn't make the slightest distinction, and he is ready to undergo any suffering for helping the other person. And the greatest — a saint is always happy whether there are any objects or no objects. In his eyes, the person will not value one object more than the other object, because he starts seeing God everywhere.

So a Jñāni's love is, from one point of view, selfish love. What does it mean? "I love you," a Jñāni says, "because I am you." That is called: "I love you for my sake, because I know I am you, you are me." And a Jñāni is therefore the opposite. Therefore a Jñāni can say boldly: "Whatever you love is going to be destroyed." Why? Because the you who is the lover is also limited, and the object which you claim to love is also limited.

Remember: a subject cannot exist without an object, neither can an object exist without a subject. That division — they both are dependent upon each other. So both will die. But a Jñāni doesn't say "I am the subject," neither does he say "I am the object" — he rises beyond the borders of both subject and object.

Therefore, we must know: everything is the Ātmā. "All that exists in this universe is myself alone." A Jñāni has neither friend nor enemy. In fact, there is no second object that exists for a Jñāni. And a Jñāni — that is a Jīvanmukta — seems to love even an enemy. But how does he love? Not as an object, an Anātmā, but as Ātmā — oneself. That is why Jesus says, "Forgive the enemies, because there are no enemies" — that is what he did not say explicitly. So this is the difference between a Jñāni and a non-Jñāni.


How Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa and Holy Mother Loved

And how and why did Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa and Holy Mother love their devotees? These people admire them — so they naturally, like a worldly person, return their love. No — because everybody is looked upon as Ātman only. Often they do not express this, but Holy Mother says, "All are my children," when some topic is raised.

Because at that time, the freedom movement was going on, and the argument was that cloth produced in western countries should not be used — only Svadeśī Khāddara, Khādī. Then Holy Mother said, "No, they are also my children," because she will never wish anybody to suffer. They are her children — therefore if anybody suffers, she suffers. Even if a cat suffers, she suffers. "What about a snake?" — yes, that is also true.

But we see in Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa what seems a contradiction — we have to understand it properly. Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa said, "I could not sleep for three days after Keśav passed away." Is it a worldly love? No. Why? Because Keśav was an instrument of the Divine Mother. It is because of Keśav, through Keśav, Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa came to be known, became popular, and so many people could come to him. And even the followers of the Brahmo Samāj, members, also deserted Keśav Candra Sen — albeit he does not know why it is so — but Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa never loves anybody, cannot love anybody, as separate from himself. This is called Brahman's love, the love of the Ātman.

So we have to understand: every saint, direct disciples, great devotees — there is no distinction between whom they love, etc.


Conclusion: The Eternal Happiness of the Jñāni

So, in the end, the Upaniṣad says that whoever worships this Ātman — the Jñāni — gains eternal happiness, happiness free from all limitations, and that is also called Mokṣa. So if a person of lesser preparedness slowly practises Sādhana and progresses in Sādhana, and in the end becomes identified with Brahman, and if he is still functioning through this body-mind, he will be called a Jīvanmukta. For him: Ānandaṃ Ānandaṃ Paramānandaṃ.

This is the essence of this eighth mantra in the fourth section. And in our next class, the most marvellous topic of Brahma Vidyā is taken up. There are two more in this fourth section — Mantra 9 and Mantra 10 — and upon these two, Śaṅkarācārya writes an elaborate Bhāṣyam. And I will give you the gist of that Bhāṣyam in our next class.


Closing Prayer

Om Jānānāṃ Śāradāṃ Devīṃ Rāmakṛṣṇaṃ Jagadgurum

Pada Padme Tayo Śṛtvā Praṇamāmi Muhur Muhuh

May Rāmakṛṣṇa, Holy Mother, and Swami Vivekānanda bless us all with Bhakti.

Jai Rāmakṛṣṇa!