Drg Drsya Viveka Lecture 05
The Nature of Bondage and Liberation: A Discourse on Saccidānanda and Nāmarūpa
The Two Powers of Obstruction
Why does this happen? Two types of obstacles should be removed: āvaraṇa śakti and vikṣepa śakti. They work both inside and outside.
How do they work inside? They create identity between two unidentical objects — two opposite objects — as though they can mix: the cit and the jaḍa, the eternal and the temporal, the one and the many, the dṛk and the dṛśya.
Externally, what do they do? The same thing — they create confusion between brahman and jagat. So it is not enough to remove the obstacle only within; it also has to be done without.
The Practical Challenge of External Purification
Now, that is a very practical point. Because when we sit for meditation — or rather, let me put it this way — when we don't need to do anything, we are all saints. In fact, that is the only time when we are saints. Sleeping time, of course, we are saints; everybody is a saint.
Even otherwise, if I do not need any action, then I am the greatest saint in the world. I will be wishing all the blessings — truckloads of blessings — on everybody. But the moment I am forced to deal with somebody, then all my holiness will go.
So, externally also, we have to make this separation. What happens when we make this separation externally? Then we become aware that reality, or the most valuable thing in any object outside, is saccidānanda. The other is completely not important at all.
Why is it not important? Anything that is unreal is not important. Anything that is real — that is the only important thing.
The Unreality of Appearance: Nāma and Rūpa
That is why you see a beautiful diamond on the cinema screen, but you don't desire it. It may create a desire in you — in fact, that creates a lot of desires, because it is part of imagination. Cinema is nothing but imagination, a little bit brought to life.
That is why, if you want to be a sage, to anyone who is attractive, say: "Show your original face." All the attraction will disappear. As Chinese Zen Buddhism says, "Find out your original face." But there it means: find out your true nature. Here, I am twisting it a little. The original face, if you see it, you don't feel attracted at all to anything in this world. It is only when you cover the original thing that, for a short time, everyone appears to be attractive, anything appears to be attractive.
So both types of separations have to be achieved through the practice of yoga.
Summary: The Problem of the Three Tāpas
So, what is our problem? To summarise the whole thing in short sentences: we are all suffering from three tāpas. We all wish to be free from them and be happy eternally. Is it possible? Yes, it is possible. So why is it not possible now? Because māyā, in the form of two powers, comes and creates an artificial, seemingly real obstruction. It is not a real obstruction.
The Universal Law: Nothing Can Truly Be Mixed
There is a law in this world: no two things can ever be mixed up. Some things can seem to be mixed up, but really you cannot mix them.
To give an example: water and, let us say, sugar or salt. Apparently, you put sugar in the water and you don't see the sugar; you put salt in the water and you don't see the salt. Only when you taste it will you realise what has happened. But they have never become truly mixed up.
How do you know? Because every object has a particular name. So if a thing is its own thing, you need to call it only by its own name. You do not need to call it by another name. But if you add salt, what do you call it? "Salt water." You are using two separate words. You are not calling it just "water"; you are calling it "salt water" or "sugary water" or "sweet water." They never truly mix.
How do you know? Whatever can be separated was never, in the first instance, truly mixed up. So really speaking, nothing in this world can be mixed up.
Brahman and Māyā: The Apparent Mixture
The same truth holds for brahman. Māyā, what does it do? Like salt not appearing to our eyes but being there all over — and it can be separated — it takes effort to separate it. The sun of knowledge is necessary. Just as salt remains salt when water evaporates, so too sugar crystals remain sugar crystals when water is boiled away.
Brahman and something else appear to get mixed up — not really, only apparently. That is the point.
Liberation According to Dvaita and Advaita
What does the dvaita system say? It says you get liberation. How? Because you are ātman. Now you think you are a human being or whatever. You worship God, fall at His feet, surrender yourself, do whatever you like. But ultimately, either through knowledge or by His grace, you get liberation. What is liberation? You become identified with your own nature, and whatever you were mixed up with — "I am a human being" — falls away.
As any dvaita philosopher would say: the soul within a human body is like salt in water — salt is different, water is different; soul is different, body is different.
Liberation means you will be separated from that which is not you. The only difference between the schools of philosophy is: are you a small divinity or a big divinity? A mixed-up divinity or an unmixed divinity? All schools of philosophy agree on divinity. Whether you are a small soul — like many, many individual jīvātmas, like sugar crystals — or something greater, that is the difference.
Because if it is really mixed, you can never separate it. If it is seemingly mixed, anything in this world can be separated. Gold and copper, gold and tin — there are images of pañcaloha — but they can be separated. There is no problem at all. Any two things mixed up can be separated.
If we don't separate, death separates. What is death? Separating all the elements: the salt part goes to the salt part, the zinc part goes to the zinc part, the copper part goes to the copper part.
The Rhythm of Nature: Janma and Mṛtyu
The nature of the world is always either combining or separating. When it combines, it is called janma. When it separates, it is called mṛtyu. This is the simple truth. And in between, you go on making up for the deficiencies — that is called life.
We are always taking in something and losing something constantly. That is our bondage. Why should we go on trying for things which are not of our nature? In fact, we never lose ourselves. That is the meaning of ātman. There is no ātman deficiency over the course of time. It remains exactly the same quantity and the same quality.
The Parable of the Neighbour's Garden
You put on a cloth; the cloth gets holy; you don't want it to be holey, so you remove the damage, taking a needle or whatever. This is not your job. Unnecessarily, you have taken up a job that is not your nature. It doesn't belong to you.
Guṇas are working with guṇas. What is your headache? This is what we have to understand. But we do not understand this now because we think our neighbour's garden is our garden. That means: this body and mind — we are cultivating it. But when you are decorating it so nicely, you are not knowing that it is your neighbour's garden you are decorating, not your own house.
The jīva neither does anything nor makes anybody else do something. He is sākṣī — the witness. But somehow we mistake ourselves: "This is mine." If it were truly yours, it should always be with you. And since it has not come with you, it will not go with you.
Inside and Outside: Dṛk and Brahman
Until now, we have discussed this: it is because of the power of māyā that we consider things which do not belong to us as belonging to us, and we forget our own true nature — both inside and outside. Therefore, we must be made to realise that outside, if you see reality, that is what is called brahman. Inside, if you see reality, that is called dṛk. Individually, it is dṛk; cosmically, it is called brahman.
So, first we have to separate both. Then we have to see the identity between this dṛk and the outside brahman. There will be no difference. But there will be a difference between dṛśya and jagat: dṛśya are many, but dṛk is only one; brahman is only one, but jagat is many.
The Five Elements of Every Object: The Key Verse
Let us now take the verse:
Asti bhāti priyaṃ rūpaṃ nāma cety aṃśapañcakam | Ādyatrayaṃ brahmarūpaṃ jagatrūpaṃ tato dvayam ||
Every object we experience in this world, including our body and mind, consists of five elements. What are those? Asti, bhāti, priyam, nāma, and rūpam.
Understanding Each of the Five Elements
Asti means existence. If an object doesn't exist, there is no question of knowing it.
Bhāti means cognizability, knowability. If some object is there, it should be knowable — otherwise, how do you know there is an object? There may be a microbe here. At this level it has knowability, but you don't have the instrument to know it now. That is why many people don't like high definition: all the microbes and everything becomes visible. As they say, "ignorance is bliss."
So bhāti means: every object not only should exist — whatever exists, all that, as sat, has cit and ānanda within it also. There are three-in-one, one-in-three. You can never truly separate them; there are only three ways of looking at it. Is it there? Yes. Can it be known? Yes. Otherwise, how do you know it is there?
Suppose somebody says there is an object. He may be telling the truth or he may be wrong. What is the proof? Not only you, but anybody should be able to perceive it. Otherwise, the knowability is not in the object but in the knower — and that doesn't prove the object. That is what is called an illusion: it is there, but it can be known only to the person who is seeing it. That is why it doesn't have a real existence.
Whatever has real existence is capable of being known by anybody, because that knowability is in the object — it doesn't depend upon the subject. It is vastutantra, not kartṛtantra. That is why you cannot change it. How you interpret it is kartṛtantra, but what it is and how it is — that is vastutantra.
Priyam means it is of the nature of ānanda. Every object is priya to itself. Whatever the thing — however ugly a person, a toad, or something else — try to destroy it and it will protest. Why? Because it is the most dear thing to itself. That is the meaning of priyam.
You may not like it; some may like it, some may not. But God will like it, because God means its own existence. That is why nobody can truly hate himself or herself. When we say "I hate myself," what do we mean? Do we hate ourself, or do we hate the non-self? It is always the non-self. There must be two objects to say "I love you" or "I hate you." For the self itself, there is no loving and no hating — love and hate are only a relationship between two objects.
So priyam has to be understood in three respects. First, in the eyes of God — because He is the only one, He loves Himself; that is the most priya, because He has no other choice. Second, every object loves its own identity or existence. Third, all of us can love something at some point or another. You cannot say that eternally you will hate something — at some point, you may come to appreciate that very thing.
Nāma and Rūpa: The World of Differentiation
Nāma and rūpa are not separate things. They are ideas imposed upon the object called brahman.
What is a table, apart from wood? Can you separate and weigh the wood on one side and the nāmarūpa on the other? If you cannot, if it is one and the same, why do you call it a table? Why do you call something a chair? Wood is wood. Can you touch the nāma and rūpa? If it is not touchable, it is not physical. If it is not physical, it is subtle. Everything that is subtle is an idea in the mind. It is only an idea — and different creatures look upon the same object in different ways. A woodworm, a scientist, and a saint all look at the same object differently. So this idea is changeable. Asti, bhāti, priyam — it is the same. But the idea is changeable.
How Nāma and Rūpa Create Distinction
How do you distinguish between this sofa and that sofa? Both are sofas. How are you able to say "this sofa," "this sofa," "that sofa"? Asti, bhāti, priyam are absolutely the same. Then how do you distinguish? By rūpa. Rūpa means quality — qualities perceivable through the five senses: form, colour, texture, sound, smell. It is only through the five senses that you distinguish which is a chair, which is a sofa. And according to that distinction, you give names — sofa number one, sofa number two — to distinguish.
So, asti, bhāti, priyam is common to everything. How do you distinguish one object from the other? Only through nāma and rūpa.
Brahman Versus Jagat: Only Nāma and Rūpa Differ
If you are seeing any object in the sense of sat, cit, and ānanda — asti, bhāti, priyam — it is nothing but brahman. But jagat is brahman plus nāma and rūpa.
What is the difference between brahman and jagat? Three things are common, two things are not common. Asti, bhāti, priyam — saccidānanda — is common to all objects, every object, any object whatsoever. What is the difference? Only nāma and rūpa.
And all five are only ideas in the mind. So there is nothing truly "concrete" — it is all idea. There is no "external" and no "internal." You cannot say it is all inside without positing something outside. You cannot say something is cold without positing something is hot. This is the nature of the human mind — and that is why we make the distinction "this is outside, this is inside."
A padartha — a vastu, an object — is called padartha: pada-artha, "meaning of a word." Where is the meaning? Is it an object, or is it an idea? It is an idea.
The Pancabhūtas and the Whole Jagat
The verse says:
Khe vāyv-agnau jalorvīṣu devatiryaṅ-nṛdiṣu | Saccidānanda-abhinnāni vidrute rūpanāmane ||
Among the five — ākāśa, vāyu, agni, jala, and pṛthvī — and among devatas, tiryak (sub-human beings), and humans: from the saccidānanda point of view, they are absolutely abhinna — exactly the same. Where is the difference? Only in rūpa and nāma.
Everything has come from the pañcabhūtas: from avyakta came mahat; from mahat came ahaṃkāra; from ahaṃkāra came the sūkṣma pañcabhūtas; from those came the sthūla pañcabhūtas. The sūkṣma pañcabhūtas make up the sūkṣma śarīra; the sthūla pañcabhūtas make up the sthūla śarīra. The whole jagat has come from only one source.
So all objects — however many billions and billions there may be — have three things in common: asti, bhāti, priyam. The moment you say an object exists, that very moment you have to say it can be known and that it can be experienced as the most dear.
Everything Has Life: The Universal Saccidānanda
Ramana Maharṣi was once sitting when a foreigner came and said that people should be taught not to harm trees and animals. Ramana Maharṣi said: "Do you know that even the carpet, the floor on which you are sitting, is alive?"
He is not saying anything new. We do not perceive so many things as alive. Do you perceive life in an egg? Every egg — whether human or chicken or whatever — contains the potentiality of life. It is only a question of the right conditions.
What object is there in this world that doesn't have life? Because, clearly — saccidānanda — what else do you want for life?
That is why pṛthvī devatā and jala devatā — Gaṅgā devī, Brahmaputra, Sarasvatī, Narmadā, Sindhu, Kāverī — these are all goddesses. They are really goddesses. Why? Because they are what sustain so many lives. If this much water can sustain a small creature, how many lives does the Gaṅgā nadī or Kāverī nadī sustain?
The sun is agni devatā in pratyakṣa rūpa. The wind is our pratyakṣa devatā, prāṇa devatā. And ākāśa — the only element which can never be experienced except through sound. All the other four devatās — these huge rivers, the whole earth burning at its core — are pratyakṣa devatās. The pañcabhūtas: agni devatā, vāyu devatā, jala devatā, pṛthvī devatā — these are sustaining us every second of our life. That is why Hindus have recognised this and made them devatās and worship them.
That is how pūjā works: you worship all these items — there is light, there is the samara (waving of the lamp), there are flowers, there are fruits, there is sugandha (fragrance). All five are representative of the pañcabhūtas, to say: "O Lord, all this belongs to You. Since I am made up of all these, I also belong to You." That understanding is the result of pūjā. That is true self-surrender.
Seeing Asti, Bhāti, Priyam Everywhere: The Path to Freedom
This is the most important thing: how to perceive everything as asti, bhāti, priyam — with nāma and rūpa as the only superficial overlay. If we can see that, we are not bound.
Why? Because what is bondage? First, we think: "I am different from you." That is bondage. If I know I am not different — that all of us are non-different from each other — then the question of likes and dislikes, rāga and dveṣa, and all these things will not arise.
The Verse on the Practice: Upekṣā of Nāmarūpa
Upekṣā nāmarūpe dve saccidānanda tatparaḥ | Samādhiṃ sarvadā kuryāt hṛdaye'tha bahiḥ ||
Upekṣā nāmarūpe dve — keeping aside nāma and rūpa, because that is what causes bondage. Bondage is nāmarūpa.
Then you meditate upon the other three. Saccidānanda tatparaḥ — "tatparaḥ" is a wonderful word: completely absorbed in that one task, thinking of saccidānanda and nothing else.
Samādhiṃ sarvadā kuryāt — this samādhi means constant meditation, meditating always, focused upon these three aspects.
Hṛdaye'tha bahiḥ — either inside the heart or in the external world. When you are meditating internally, that is internal worship. When you are doing pūjā outside, that is external meditation. We make a big difference between "he is doing pūjā" and "he is meditating" — but if Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa is offering flowers, is he meditating or doing pūjā? What is pūjā? Thinking of God is meditation. Pūjā is one way of meditating.
Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa advised Ṛṣik who was sweeping the pathways: "So many devotees are able to walk because of your work. You are worshipping the Divine Mother. It is no less worship." In a drama, every role — even the person who claps — is essential.
Not Either/Or, But Both
"Inside or outside" does not mean you have a choice. It means you start either from inside or from outside — but ultimately you will have to do both. Why? Because you have to see within yourself the same saccidānanda, and you also have to see the same saccidānanda outside.
Totāpurī did meditation inside, but he never did this kind of saccidānanda meditation outside. Had he done so, he would have seen the temple servant also as saccidānanda, the fire also as saccidānanda, the Divine Mother's image also as saccidānanda. But the Divine Mother, out of compassion, made him realise that truth. Thereafter, there was no conflict in his mind.
Yatra yatra mano bhāti, tatra tatra brahma darśanam — wherever the mind goes, you will see only brahman and brahman alone.
Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa once said: "One day I saw a wicked man, but I saw the Divine Mother also vibrating within him." Another time he said: "I was going to Calcutta and I saw a public woman standing there — and I saw Sītā herself sitting there, waiting for Rāma."
Caitanya Mahāprabhu, in a similar spirit, once saw a donkey passing. He threw an ochre cloth on it and made sāṣṭāṅga praṇāma — teaching his disciples to see God everywhere.
Why Ritual Has Value: Starting Somewhere
Why do people revere sannyāsīs wearing ochre cloth? It is not that we should revere only them and not others. Rather: learn to revere at least a few, and afterwards extend this reverence to everyone else. You have to start somewhere. That is the purpose of ritual. That is the purpose of a temple.
When you have advanced, your very heart becomes a temple, and then you can see God everywhere. But until you see God everywhere, you have to see Him somewhere. A stone image is a wonderful place to start. Why? Because if your culinary skills are not so great and it is a living God, He may not tolerate it! But a stone God will be smiling throughout — even if you add too much salt.
When your devotion becomes niṣṭhā, you extend it to everyone. The purpose is to see the same divinity in everybody. That is what Śrī Rāmakṛṣṇa used to see — and more than that, the Holy Mother. She was called Holy Mother for exactly this reason. She saw the same divinity in all who came to her, regardless of their outward state.
Oṃ śāntiḥ śāntiḥ śāntiḥ