Brihadaranyaka Upanishad Ch.2 Introduction Lecture 40 on 07 June 2026
Opening Invocation
ओं जननीं शारदां देवीं रामकृष्णं जगद्गुरुं, पादपद्मे तयोः श्रित्वा प्रणमामि मुहुर्मुहुः.
Oṃ jananīṃ śāradāṃ devīṃ rāmakṛṣṇaṃ jagadguruṃ, pādapadme tayoḥ śritvā praṇamāmi muhurmuhuḥ.
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 to the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad
In our last class, we completed the first chapter of the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad. It is called Mudhukanda or Upadeshakanda also, and that is the very foundation and essence of the entire Upanishad.
As we discussed earlier, the scripture adopts a particular methodology to guide people like us. First, it accepts that what you are experiencing—that you are the body and mind, that you are in this creation of God—is absolutely true, real satyam. But slowly it says: whatever is changing cannot be relied upon, and in your experience, the world is changing, the body is changing, the mind is changing, and everything is changing. This we have seen in the sixth section of the first chapter. The whole universe is nothing but a form, a name, and an action. All the three together are called our personality, and especially our physical body. Most of the time, almost everyone of us is identified with the body. This identification with the body is called satyam because that is our reality—not the ultimate reality.
If we can somehow lift our mind and detach ourselves from this idea of body-identity with the body, then we achieve almost immortality, relative immortality, that is called amṛta. Once we understand how we can detach ourselves, then we become wiser, then gradually, progressively, step by step. So, detaching ourselves from the body, identifying with the next sukṣma, that is subtle body, which is called prāṇamaya śarīra. Then rising from there, detaching ourselves, identifying with the mind, then identifying with the buddhi intellect, then identifying with the ānandamaya kośa. Finally, we have a crystal clear glimpse of what is Brahman, or to put it the same thing, pañca kośas from the identity with the sthūlaśarīra, we must identify with the sūkṣma śarīra, then identify with the karaṇaśarīra, then we disidentify even from the causal body, and then we understand we are none other than turīya, that supreme reality. So that much we have seen, and that is called adhyārupa. First accept the reality of the creation, then slowly take us step by step, and that is how we grow. This is called evolution.
The Second Chapter and the Path of Iti Iti
In order to make us understand how to guide us from a lower step to a higher step, the second chapter had started. This second chapter has got three brāhmaṇams, and as I mentioned, brāhmaṇam means sections, and the first section is the longest section because here we have been taught in the form of a dialogue—a very interesting dialogue—and this dialogue is in the form of a story between King Ajātaśatru and a Brahmin, bright, well-learned, well-spoken boy called Gārgya. Through this dialogue, what the Upaniṣad wants to tell us is that you go on doing several upāsanas—in fact, twelve special upāsanas are given. As I said, as we discussed earlier, what is an upāsana? That is expanding ourselves from a small individual identity to a larger whole. In fact, from this body-idea to the idea of devatā, presiding god, from the individuality to the universality, from the microcosm to the macrocosm. That is the goal.
Whether a person adopts the Advaitic method of neti neti, which also we will get in this particular second chapter, the earlier method is through the path of iti iti. The purpose of every contemplation is to completely disidentify with our body and mind and identify ourselves with saguṇa brahma. That is the very first step. This is also called the path of iti iti (this, this) as contrasted with neti neti (not this, not this).
I wanted to remind you at the very beginning: Swami Śaradānandajī Mahārāj had written the book Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa the Great Master, and this book is not a mere biography of Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa, but it is a beautiful commentary on the very meaning of this scripture. Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is nothing but a scripture. His life is a scripture, his teachings are scriptures, and we have to understand him properly. So while there is a historical fact that is called the life of Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa separately published—where only historical facts have been brought together chronologically—whereas the Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa the Great Master weaves in and out of past and present. There is a special methodology how he has written that one. He did not write it in a step-by-step manner. First he wrote something, maybe he has gone back and written something, gone into the future and wrote something, again came back. The purpose is not to present us with a historical biography, but how Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa grew through his sādhanā, how his life becomes a beacon light for us all to understand the true spirit of the scripture.
Therein, at the very beginning, at about the 90th page, Swami Śaradānandajī describes how one can attain Brahman through the path of iti iti, and he clearly tells us there are two paths. One is called iti iti, and this is the path of the devotee. Another is called the path of neti neti, and both take us to the same goal. The path of iti iti (this and this) is usually adopted by bhaktas (devotees), called bhakti mārga or karma mārga, whereas the path of neti neti is adopted by the jñānīs and yogis through cittavṛtti nirodha. One is positive from the beginning; another is gradually sublating the positive with the negative until we deny completely or rise above the three bodies (gross, subtle, and causal) or rise above the pañca kośas.
How the Path of Iti Iti Works
Very briefly, I want to mention how this happens because it is one of the most interesting discussions, and it opens a world of intuitive ideas. I am condensing Swami Śaradānandajī's writing in a very easy manner.
Imagine there is a devotee. He adopts the path of bhakti and then he goes on meditating. At first, he thinks: I am imagining the image of a form as given through various descriptions. Viṣṇu looks like this: he has four hands and he has four different weapons and a lotus flower, etcetera, in his hands. He stands on the lotus flower. You can apply this to every God and Goddess—Lakṣmī Devī, Sarasvatī, etcetera. So he meditates. The devotee is intensely aware: I am the body and mind, but at the same time he also understands that my God is something very subtle as contrasted with the physical reality. But as he goes on meditating, at first a lifeless figure appears, first only a small part, maybe legs, maybe hands. Gradually he sees the whole figure, and if you study the Great Master, that is how Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa also advanced. After a lot of practice, he sees the whole figure but lifeless. After some time, slowly, slowly, a smile appears on that figure. It comes out alive. So that is how the chosen deity becomes a complete figure, alive, very pleased, looking with great tremendous grace and highly pleased with the devotee's devotion. Then slowly an interaction takes place, and God and the devotee start talking with each other. More time passes, more intensity of sādhanā, and the relationship becomes deeper and deeper.
Now comes the psychological analysis of what Swami Śaradānandajī does—a most beautiful explanation. He says the sādhaka (the spiritual aspirant) realizes: "You see, at first I was imagining my chosen deity, and as my concentration deepens, I could see very clearly one part, then another part, later on total figure but lifeless, later completely alive, smiling, bestowing gracious looks upon me, talking to me, fulfilling my desires. So I have been imagining Him, and now He has become real to me because of my intense imagination over a period of time, short or long." Then that idea also brings in: "I thought this world was real. Maybe just as I imagined my iṣṭadevatā is real, the same way, the reality of the world also is created by my mind. Maybe it is not real."
So then the man understands: everything depends upon our imagination. You imagine one way and you experience one way. Imagine another way, experience another way. Imagine positively, experience everything positively, happily. Imagine another way, everything will be in a different way.
I am reminded: I heard about a small game people used to play. Of course, I never knew about it, but later on I came to know in villages these games are invented. So some boys are playing there, and a small coin—a rupee coin or a One Anna coin—is brought. Then what happens? One boy is chosen, he is asked to close his eyes, and then the coin is pressed against his forehead very firmly. For some time he feels the pressure, and then the boy who is putting it on his forehead says: "Now it is completely attached to your forehead. Now the game starts. You will have to get rid of it with closed eyes, remember?" But after pressing for some time, he adroitly removes the coin. But the boy still feels the pressure and still thinks the coin is there. So he adopts various methods—jumping up and down, shaking his head to get rid of it—but he cannot get rid of it. Why? Because firmly it is implanted in his mind that this person had pasted it, gummed it to my forehead, and imaginary pressure will be there. Earlier it was fact—the pressure was a fact—but now it is imaginary pressure. So he goes on jumping up and down. If he can throw that coin out, then he will get a small prize, he will get that coin. Otherwise, he will have to pay from his pocket. This is the game.
Now what I wanted to illustrate through the story: through various janmas, we have been looking at the world and we have been interpreting it. Then we are trying to understand: this is the reality, even though it is changing every second, but the impression that it is real, it is not unreal, continues. But through this path of meditation on the chosen deity, the mind of the spiritual aspirant clearly understands: "I have been deliberately meditating upon my chosen deity and I made it complete, and then I attributed to it life. Then it is smiling, it is talking to me. This is all my imagination. If this be true, my understanding of the world—that it is also satyam—might it not be my own imagination?"
Once a person achieves this, then some magic miracle happens. Then he thinks: if I can develop the another imagination, this world is nothing. Let me elaborate with a small example. A man thinks: "If I can get this woman, I will be a very happy person." Is it a fact, or is it just his imagination (kalpanā), just like our dream? Yes, it is also a kalpanā because, as we see, no object contains something called happiness, because the same person, same so-called beautiful woman or man, can create opposite reactions in other people. So when an object is thought of variously by various people, what is the truth about that object? That is the point. With regard to any object in this world, there are opposing views. Some say it is wonderful, some say it is the most horrid thing in the world. Everything depends upon their imagination and also experience.
So the spiritual aspirant comes to the conclusion that everything is an imagination. Then what is the truth? "I am the truth. I am the Brahman. I am the truth." This is the only reality because anything imaginary is just imaginary. This is the essence of how a sādhaka attains to the highest truth. Aham brahmāsmi means what? I am satyam. This is the only truth. I am the only one (ekam advitīyam), that is called anantham because I am the only one, and I am of ānanda svarūpa.
Connection to the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad
Why did I narrate this with regard to this Brihadaranyaka Upanishad? Especially because here the story goes that this Brahmin boy comes to the king with the idea that "I am well-learned and I want to teach this king. The king is ignorant; I am knowledgeable." The king is a good person, well known for his generosity. So being in possession of this wonderful knowledge, I must teach him so that he can also progress and do much more good to the world. That is why I referred to it.
So what was taught here? Twelve upāsanas are taught. All are upāsanas. How is an ālambanam taken? A small thing is taken and identified with the larger whole. An individual is imagined to be universal as an example, because once we understand the essence of it, it will be a breeze to understand the other. There are twelve upāsanas, beginning from the second mantra. For example, this is related to a triangle I mentioned so many times: ādhyātmika, ādhibhautika, ādhidaivika. Ādhyātmika means me, the individual. I have an eye. What does it do? It has the power to experience forms and colours. But the power of my eye—individual power of my eye—is limited. So now devatā. What is devatā? The universal power of perception or seeing is called devatā, god. So Sūrya Devatā, that is the universal god of the power of seeing, because he emits light. Light means knowledge. Without light, my eye cannot function. This is only as an example. If I can contemplate that my eye is nothing but Sūrya Devatā, I am forgetting the limited individual eye or the power of perception and identifying it, merging it with āditya, then my whole vision will change. What does it change? Once I succeed in it, then I can transfer the same thing to other organs. My ear is individual, but ākāśa is the devatā. My mind is individual, the moon is the devatā, etc.
So take the vyasti (the individual) and make it universal, samaṣṭi. Then the individuality melts away, revealing its universal nature, and that is becoming one with the saguṇa brahma or qualified Brahman. Once I reach there, then I realise that the saguṇa brahma is none other than nirguṇa brahma only. The manifest is but a manifestation of the unmanifest, an expression of the unmanifest. That is why I told you earlier: through the path of iti iti, I am not only this individual "I", I am the universal "I". I merely expanded my "I" without any limitation. And then finally I find I am one with the universal saguṇa brahma (Īśvara), by whatever name you call it. Usually we call it "God". For most religions, God means saguṇa brahma. He is the creator. Creator is always saguṇa brahma in Vedānta, in Hinduism. But once we identify that "I do not exist, everything is Brahman", this is beautifully expressed in a very clipped manner in the fourth chapter of the Bhagavad Gītā, which we are all familiar with:
brahmārpaṇaṃ brahma haviḥ brahmāgnau brahmaṇā hutam | brahmaiva tena gantavyaṃ brahma karma samādhinā ||
That is, transform each individual component of this creation into its universal aspect, which is called Brahman. What is offered is Brahman. The person who is offering is also Brahman. And what it is offered into is also Brahman. Everything is nothing but Brahman. Such a person attains the highest samādhi, and it is called brahma karma samādhi - nirvikalpa samādhi through the pathway of karma yoga. So this is the essence of this first section, at least. Then we will come to something very interesting.
The Story of Ajātaśatru and Gārgya
The same idea is explored next. This king later on teaches—he becomes the teacher—and then he teaches that the real individual is none other than Brahman, who is beyond the waking, dream, and dreamless experiences. The idea that we explored in the Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad has been reiterated in one of these brāhmaṇas in this particular second chapter. That is how, through the path of iti iti, one attains to Brahman. In fact, even those who can say neti neti cannot start from the beginning with neti neti; only step by step. How does it happen? We have seen how it happens in the Taittirīya Upaniṣad, especially at first saying iti iti: "This body is Brahman—annam brahmeti vyajānāt." That very same person later on glimpses something subtler, more pervading, and he says: "Until now what is called anna brahma, annam brahma, now becomes denied—neti neti—not this, not this." And he identifies with the prāṇa, and so on and so forth, until he reaches ānandam, which is beyond ānandamaya kośa. If you can keep this introduction in your minds, it will be very easy for us to understand the essence of this second chapter. In fact, I would dare say, the whole Upaniṣad—any Upaniṣad, any scripture for that matter.
The second chapter has three sections. The aim is the same. So this second chapter starts with a beautiful story. There was a king of Kāśī called Ajātaśatru who was a knower of Brahman, and there was a Brahmin boy called Gārgya, from Garga's lineage. He was well-learned, a very intelligent person, and a great spiritual sādhaka. He had been practicing various contemplations called upāsanas (the word upāsanā cannot really be translated properly). So he thought he had reached the goal. Somehow he had mistaken that he has reached the goal—like one of the disciples of Swami Brahmanandajī, practising austerities at Rishikesh, thought that he attained samādhi (nirvikalpa samādhi). Then his guru, when he visited Kankhal, the disciple came to pay his respects to his guru, and the guru looked into his eyes and later on remarked: "It has nothing to do with samādhi." He had some higher experience, a vision. But this is how many people mistake. So like that, this Gārgya also had mistaken that he reached the goal.
Then he decided that he would like to share his knowledge with this king. The scripture is using a peculiar word: dhr̥pta bālāki. Dhr̥pta means proud, but he was not like Śvetaketu; you have to understand. We have seen the story of Śvetaketu, and after returning from gurukula, he was arrogant, unbearable, and his father, a true sādhaka, asked him: "Did your teacher teach you the highest truth?" And this fellow proudly replied: "My teacher doesn't know; otherwise he would have taught." He did not know that some things can be taught without being asked, but some things must be taught only after being asked. So this person never realized there is something I have to ask, which we see in the Kaṭhopaniṣad: how Naciketā asks, and he is so adamant, so firm, that Yamadharmarāja shows him so many temptations which are extremely rare, but firmly Naciketā rejects all of them: "I will not desire any other boon excepting I want to obtain knowledge of Brahman, knowledge of the Ātman."
So Śvetaketu was very arrogant, and when he approached a king with the same idea that "I will teach", the king questioned him in turn—five questions he could not answer even one. He got hurt, he came back, he complained to his father, and then his father said: "I also do not know the answer, so let us go sit humbly at his feet." But Śvetaketu refused to come. But the father came, he learned. That kind of arrogance is no good at all for true aspirants; one has to be careful about it. That is why Śukadeva had to go to Janaka to be confirmed: "Yes, you are truly a brahmajñānī, naira brahma." But Janaka did not simply look at his face and certify him. He tested him for one week with absolutely no respect, and second, with the highest respect that is possible, and keeping him in the midst of the greatest temptations. Śukadeva's mind did not flicker: ethadipo nivathasthu ningate sa upama smruta. Just as in a windless place, a lamp never flickers even the slightest, Śukadeva's mind remained absolutely firm. It is also said that Janaka gave him a cup full of oil and told him to go around a huge room seven times, and not even one drop of oil had ever spilled out of fear, out of apprehension, out of anxiety. No, his mind was totally what Patañjali Rishi calls complete citta nirodha had taken place, and he was abiding in his own self: tathā dhraśtasvarūpe avasthānam.
We should not compare Gārgya, this young Brahmin boy, to Śvetaketu at all. How do we know? Because he genuinely thought—mistakenly, but genuinely thought—that "I know; I want to share it with the king." But when the king countered him and said, "I know much more than you," twelve times he says this. Then this boy realized his knowledge is not up to the mark; he has a lot to learn. And you know what happened? Immediately, instantaneously, he sat down. Of course, the Upaniṣad doesn't say that, but he said: "Sir, I thought I came to teach you, but now I know that I am an ignoramus." Acceptance of one's ignorance is the highest knowledge because that leads to the highest knowledge. So we know later on that this Brahmin boy learned well, he behaved well, and he was a little bit proud but at heart he was a very good boy. He approached Ajātaśatru, who is a kṣatriya, a warrior, a king, and he was the king of Kāśī. So he approached and said...
Then the king asked him: "Sir, what brings you here?" He said: "I want to teach you brahmavidyā." He thought he had it. Ajātaśatru immediately said: "Nowadays everybody is running to teach Janaka because he was a very generous king, a great king. But so far nobody had approached me. Everybody says Janaka, Janaka, but nobody takes my name. I am glad that you are gracious enough to choose to teach me. Even whether you teach or not, for that very purpose, I will give you one thousand cows"—like Janaka had offered to Yājñavalkya. That shows the greatness of Ajātaśatru. This also shows that Ajātaśatru was a brahmajña (knower of Brahman), and we have seen in several places how even Śvetaketu's father had to approach a kṣatriya in order to learn brahma vidyā. So here also, Ajātaśatru was a brahmajña. But he did not become proud. He welcomed this young Brahmin boy, showed him all the respect, and when he was offered "I will teach you," he said: "I will be very happy to sit at your feet and learn, and that very proposal that you came shows your graciousness. I will offer you one thousand cows."
Then a dialogue takes place—a beautiful dialogue. Gārgya says: "I contemplate, for example, the sun as the highest manifestation of Brahman," like that. Then Ajātaśatru says: "I also worship, but I know about the saguṇa brahma much more than what you know. And I contemplate him as the greatest, most adorable, the brightest," with certain qualities he says. And there's an important point for us to learn how this also has to be understood by us. But the greater the learning, the greater will be the humility: vidyā dadhāti vinayaṃ vinayāt yāti pātratām. The more our learning, the humbler we become. Why? How? Because greater our knowledge, greater will be our humility, as we understand how little is my knowledge compared to the total knowledge available.
So this Ajātaśatru was a very humble person, very generous, highly seeing everybody as Brahman, so graciously understood this boy—though he thinks he knows everything, actually his knowledge is limited—but I will help him. But he doesn't say it at the beginning: "You begin your teaching." So this Gārgya starts his teaching, and in twelve mantras (from 2nd to 13th) we get this idea. Gradually, twelve aspects of the saguṇa brahma—"I worship, I contemplate, I do upāsana of the sun, the moon, the lightning, etc."—we will see it. And then immediately Ajātaśatru, very humbly so that he won't offend the boy, said: "Sir, I think I know a little better than you. This is how I worship the same deity whom you mentioned that you worship, and with these qualities."
So what is the idea of contemplation (upāsanā)? In whatever way we do the upāsanā, we become that. If I worship Brahman as honoured, I become honoured. If I worship Brahman as desireless, I become desireless. If I worship Brahman as all-pervading, I become all-pervading. We will see it in the Taittirīya Upaniṣad, how marvelously these contemplations are coming across to us.
So twelve teachings Gārgya wants to give Ajātaśatru, but for every contemplation, Ajātaśatru's knowledge is much, much deeper. He says: "This is what I know," in a most inoffensive manner, very humbly, full of like a great, good, intimate, well-wishing friend advising. And then Gārgya understands: my knowledge is very little. But then his greatness is he accepts it. He says: "Sir, I thought I knew everything—genuinely I thought. But now I understand how little is my knowledge. No, I will sit at your feet. You be my teacher; I will be your student."
Now the roles are reversed. Ajātaśatru, of course at first, declines: "It is not in our tradition—always Brahmins were the teachers, and kṣatriyas can only be students." But then this Gārgya must have said: "Sir, whoever knows better, he is a teacher; whoever knows less, he is a student." So this is how the roles are reversed, and then the teaching comes. So from mantra second to thirteenth: first mantra is the introduction, second to thirteenth are the teachings of Gārgya (so-called teachings of Gārgya to Ajātaśatru), and immediately the correction or expansion of the meaning by Ajātaśatru continues.
The Value of Upāsanas
Once we understand the essence, what is it? That all these upāsanas are extraordinarily valuable. Each upāsanā gives us a specified result. That is how our mind becomes more and more expansive. That is how we slowly approach, shed the limitations, slowly expand ourselves until we become identified with the saguṇa brahma completely. In fact, sādhanā can go only until we identify with the saguṇa brahma. Thereafter, it is not possible to contemplate because any contemplation is done only through thought, and it is not possible to think of nirguṇa brahman, formless Brahman.
In the Gospel, we get it. Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa asks M: "How is your meditation going on?" with a specific understanding in his mind because M preferred nirguṇa brahma (formless aspect of god). And by the way, the formless aspect of god is not nirguṇa brahma. The formless aspect of god is also part of the saguṇa brahma, the universal Brahman. That which has form is highly limited, but its origin is the formless, as we have seen in the sixth section, uktham. The origin of all names (nāmas) is sound. The origin of all forms is the unmanifested formlessness, and the origin of all actions is nothing but prāṇa or hiraṇyagarbha. So saguṇa brahma has these two aspects: with form, without form; manifest, unmanifest. But that is not the end. Sādhanā can be done with the mind. Without mind, no sādhanā can be made. But the limitation of the mind will never allow.
Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa illustrates this with a marvelous simile or analogy. If somebody's foot is full of thorns because he walked over the thorns, then he gets a bigger thorn, and then that bigger thorn helps the person get rid of all the smaller thorns. And then he says that bigger thorn also should be thrown away. But who is going to throw away that bigger thorn? He cannot do it because to remove that, another thorn, and to remove the second thorn, a third thorn—ad infinitum, it is not possible. But when once the mind reaches the identity with saguṇa brahma, saguṇa brahma himself reveals his higher aspect, which is called nirguṇa brahman.
So this is going to be the subject matter which we will discuss very briefly. First one or two mantras I will discuss in a little bit of detail, and then we have to do the same for the rest of the upāsanas (twelve upāsanas), only mentioning what is the upāsanā and what is the result. This is all very true. Whoever does it, he becomes like this. This is what Swami Vivekananda says: great people like Napoleon, their imaginations far outreach ordinary people's imagination. And what is a dream or imagination today becomes a fact tomorrow. And if we want to become great, then our imagination must be expanded. Without doing that, simply saying "I want to be great" is not going to work out.
So how these upāsanas are going to slowly take us, remove our individuality, remove the limitations of our true self, and gradually expand our nature until we become one with saguṇa brahma—that would be the subject matter, and we will discuss about it from our next class.
Closing Prayer
ॐ जननीं शारदां देवीं रामकृष्णं जगद्गुरुम् ।पादपद्मे तयोः श्रित्वा प्रणमामि मुहुर्मुहुः
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!