Brihadaranyaka Upanishad Ch.1.2 Lecture 14 on 08 March 2026
Full Transcript (Not Corrected)
Bṛhadāraṇyaka Upaniṣad – Class Notes
Opening Invocation
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: The Ghaṭabhāṣya of Śaṅkarācārya
In our last class, in the context of Sṛṣṭi and especially how Agni was born, there was a very interesting commentary by the great Śaṅkarācārya. It is called the Ghaṭabhāṣya.
What is the importance of this Ghaṭabhāṣya? Ghaṭa means a pot — commentary on the pot. What does it mean? It means there were some schools of philosophy, especially the Naiyāyikas (Logicians) and also some of the Pūrva Mīmāṃsakas, whose way of thinking led them to the conviction that there is neither cause nor effect before creation — that nothing was there.
What made these people make such an astonishing statement? Because the Upaniṣad itself says that in the beginning, that is, before creation, there was nothing — absolutely śūnyam, complete nothingness.
The Problem: How Can Something Come from Nothing?
Our minds can never understand how something can come out of nothing. What is that "something"? It is this whole universe that we are experiencing in front of our eyes, of which we are also a part. Let us not forget that I am also part of the universe — my body is part of the physical universe, my mind is part of the mental universe or what we call the sūkṣma śarīra (subtle body), and when I am in the deep sleep state, there is also an instrument called the kāraṇa śarīra (causal body).
So, the sthūla śarīra, sūkṣma śarīra, and kāraṇa śarīra — all these three śarīras are limitations. The entire universe contains these things, especially manifest in living beings. This is called creation. So the Upaniṣad is making a statement that in the beginning there was absolutely nothing, but that meaning will not be acceptable — neither by the Veda, which means the Upaniṣad, neither by the Ṛṣis, nor by any person capable of even the slightest thinking.
Two Views of Creation: Pariṇāmavāda and Vivartavāda
How do we understand this? That is where the great Śaṅkarācārya comes to our aid.
The belief of every bhakta, every devotee, is that God exists and that He created me out of Himself — because He cannot create out of anything else, for the very simple reason that there is nothing outside Him. In previous classes also I mentioned many times that there are two types of understanding about creation.
The first view is like a potter making a pot. The potter is separate, the pot is separate, and the instrument with which the pot is made is also separate. They have no mutual relationship excepting their use — and the combination of these three results in the production of the pot. But that is the view of dualistic schools of philosophy, not of Advaita.
The second view — which Advaita Vedānta presents — is called Vivartavāda: something appears as something else, but nothing has actually changed. The most classical example is that a harmless rope appears to be a fearful serpent. Advaita Vedānta always takes this second view — that Brahman "created" means He Himself has become manifest. For this simple reason: He is infinite, and we cannot imagine anything besides infinity. Therefore, unlike the potter, if Brahman were the potter, where would the clay be? Where would the potter's wheel be? They do not exist. Therefore He must be all three. That is the understanding.
The Nature of Effect: Clay, Gold, and the Pot
From this understanding, two conclusions follow.
The first conclusion is this — it is just like clay manifesting as a pot. What is a pot? It is not a second object separate from clay. It is nothing but clay. If you remove the clay from a pot, nothing exists. Clay in one particular form is called clay. The same clay in another particular form is called a pot.
Similarly, the same gold in one form is formless gold. But when it is given a particular shape to fit a particular purpose — it could be a necklace, a bangle, a nose ring, an ear ring, or a finger ring — it is given a special form and a special name for that very special purpose. But these are all just name, form, and utility. If you melt away the gold from any of these ornaments, only gold remains — without form, without name, without specific purpose.
Misinterpretations and Swami Vivekananda's Teaching
There are people who think they are clever and who claim there is nothing, and that the whole universe has come out of nothing. These are mystical words used even in the Bible. The Bible also contains the statement that God created this universe out of nothing — by which we must understand that He Himself has become this entire universe.
This is the very root of Swami Vivekananda's saying: "Śiva jñāne jīva sevā" — whenever you see any suffering individual, he is none other than Śiva. Because in this particular manifestation, he may not have clothes, food, or possessions, or he may be suffering physical or mental problems — but remove these names, "problem," "physical," "mental," and he is nothing but pure Śiva. Then the same thing applies to the person who is serving also. The person who is serving is Śiva, the person who is being served is Śiva, and the instruments with which this person serves are also nothing but Śiva.
That is the philosophy behind these statements, and that is exactly what this second Brāhmaṇa of the first chapter of the Bṛhadāraṇyaka Upaniṣad wants to say.
Why Śaṅkarācārya Wrote the Ghaṭabhāṣya
A brilliant commentary is given by Śaṅkarācārya. Because he uses the word ghaṭa (pot) so many times, some commentators have specifically called this the Ghaṭabhāṣya.
Using the pot as an example, Śaṅkarācārya wants to refute some false views presented either by the Naiyāyikas or by the Pūrvamīmāṃsakas. By the way, Nyāya, Vaiśeṣika, Pūrvamīmāṃsā, and Uttaramīmāṃsā are the names of certain schools of philosophy — and the fifth one is called Vedānta. Out of Hinduism, as we know, Buddhism has also come. Buddha was a pure Hindu, educated in the Upaniṣads, and he taught only the Upaniṣads — emphasising especially the nature of Māyā. When he says Śūnyavāda, the theory that everything is śūnya or nihilism, what he means is that only pure Brahman exists.
The Topic of the Upaniṣad: Sṛṣṭi and Its Real Purpose
This section is called the Agni Pramāṇa. In this second section, pramāṇa meaning section, the topic of Sṛṣṭi (creation) is given. The essence, the very purpose of this emphasis, is not to say that Sṛṣṭi is absolutely real. We have to remember what "real" means — that which never changes and will always remain for eternity is called real. That which changes is only temporary reality. A baby changes every millisecond — and if you count billions of milliseconds, he becomes a youth, a middle-aged person, an old person. Before birth he was invisible; after death he also becomes invisible. In between he remains visible. Invisibility does not mean death. Laya does not mean death.
So we have read: "In the beginning, there was nothing whatsoever in the universe. Indeed, all this creation was covered by hunger — by death — for hunger is really death. Then Hiraṇyagarbha thought, 'Let me have a mind.' That was his desire, and he created the mind." Hiraṇyagarbha's creation is unlike ours — his very thought becomes solidified as an object.
The Central Question of the Ghaṭabhāṣya
The Upaniṣad's statement that in the beginning there was nothing can create terrible confusion and misunderstanding. It might appear as though the Upaniṣad is saying there was truly nothing, and out of nothing the whole creation has come.
Now, creation means an effect, and every effect must have a creator — that is, a cause. We see this effect; the world exists. How can there be an effect that exists if there were no cause at all? So there must be some cause.
For clarifying this point, Śaṅkarācārya writes this elaborate bhāṣyam. And this Ghaṭabhāṣya's essence rests on two arguments:
- Before creation, is there a cause or not?
- Before creation, is there an effect or not?
Why so much bother? Because at the time of Śaṅkarācārya, there were certain schools of philosophy whose propagators held peculiar views. Some schools say there is no effect. Some people go even further and say there was no cause either.
So Śaṅkarācārya's commentary primarily examines Buddhism to discuss whether a cause exists or not. Buddhism has four schools of thought, among which there is one called Kṣaṇika Vijñānavāda. Vijñāna means knowledge, vāda means theory, kṣaṇika means momentary or temporary. This is also called the Yogācāra school of Buddhism.
What do these Kṣaṇika Vijñānavādins really want to say? According to them, there is no external world at all — no external world separate from the mind. Suppose I see a tree. According to this school, there is no tree there; there is only a thought of a tree.
Of course, this can easily be countered — if there were no tree outside, externally, then why did this particular thought corresponding to that tree arise? Why not the thought of a tiger, or anything else?
But this particular school believes that thoughts alone are there — and further, are even these thoughts real or permanent? They say no, they are all kṣaṇika, momentary. So the many objects outside our body are nothing but so many thoughts in our minds.
Cognition and Recognition: Abhijñā and Pratyabhijñā
We must understand something here. When I see a tree, simultaneously two things happen.
Suppose you see a tree, and suppose this is the first time you are seeing such an object. You don't know it is a tree. Then somebody comes and tells you, "Oh, this is called a tree." Now that instruction sits in your mind.
The first time you come across a tree and have an experience, that is called abhijñā — cognition. The next time you see the same tree or another tree, you recognise it — you say, "I know what this is; it is a tree." That is called pratyabhijñā — recognition. Recognition always means: I knew this before.
According to the Kṣaṇika Vijñānavāda school, everything is first of all a thought, and thoughts are ever-changing — momentary. So, for example, I see a tree just for a moment. The first thought arises, then it dies without any memory, and then the second thought appears, and I recognise: "This is a tree."
Śaṅkarācārya's Refutation: The Necessity of a Continuous Witness
Here Śaṅkarācārya catches this argument and refutes it decisively.
The first time you have seen a tree, according to this school, that thought is completely dead — and not only the thought, but the thinker is also dead, because the body is temporary and the mind is also temporary. Now, how could you recognise — re-cognise — and say with confidence, "This is a tree"?
Their answer is that there is a sādṛśya — a similarity — between the first thought of the tree and the second thought of the tree.
Śaṅkarācārya catches them again: similarity between what and what? For there to be recognition of similarity, there must be a witness who is not changing, who remembers, "I have seen this object; I was told it was a tree," and who, the second time he sees it, tallies the present experience with the memory. Even for similarity to be recognised, there must be remembrance. If you see someone who looks very similar to someone else, you must have knowledge of both persons — you must have seen the first and be now seeing the second, and you must be the same person holding both memories simultaneously.
Let me give an example. Suppose Rāma was going along a road and Kṛṣṇa sees him — "Oh, this person is Rāma" — and then both go away. Then, later, another person called Rāmakṛṣṇa appears and another person called Bālakṛṣṇa also appears. Rāmakṛṣṇa had never had the experience of Bālakṛṣṇa, and Bālakṛṣṇa never experienced Rāmakṛṣṇa. Do they recognise each other? Can either say, "You look similar to so-and-so"? In order to say that, one must have the remembrances of both objects. Then only is similarity possible.
So the series of experience is continuous, the object is continuous, the thought of the object is continuous — and this is how Śaṅkarācārya refutes the Kṣaṇika Vijñānavādins.
The Main Point: Cause Must Precede Effect
But what is the deeper point of all this? These schools cannot accept clay as a cause. They say there is no cause and no relationship between cause and effect.
So they say: first I see clay, then I see the pot. The thought of clay comes and goes. The thought of the pot comes and goes. There is no possibility for the cause to produce the effect. Śaṅkarācārya refutes this. We know that clay alone becomes the pot — everybody knows. Even this Buddhist knows. Clay existed before the pot, exists in the pot, and will exist after the pot is gone.
Just imagine there is a pot — an effect that has come out of clay. The pot is only a name and form. Really, clay was, clay is. Even if you destroy the pot, the clay remains as clay. What then is destroyed? The name and form of the pot are destroyed, but the original material out of which the pot is fashioned does not die — just as melting a golden ornament destroys only its name and form, not the gold.
And similarly, we can always say: "I was the baby, I was the adolescent, I was the youth, I was the middle-aged person, I was the old man — now I am the very old person." However much the body changes and the mind changes, there is an eternal witness. And that witness is Brahman. That witness — that is the purport of all these arguments.
So the kṣaṇika (momentary) argument of the Buddhist does not hold water. This counter-argument is called sādṛśyāt pratyabhijñā. Śaṅkarācārya thus establishes: if you see an effect, that effect must have a cause, and that cause is eternal. This whole universe came out of Brahman.
The Naiyāyika's Argument: The Dark Room and the Pot
Then comes another argument. A person says: "Why are you going on arguing and counter-arguing? Nothing was there before — simply take that statement as it is."
For that also Śaṅkarācārya wants to say: if there were no cause, there can be no effect. Nothing comes out of nothing. Something comes out of something. That is the main point.
Then there is a very beautiful argument. Imagine you are in a room and there is a pot in the room, but it is completely dark — you cannot see the pot. Then you put on the light. The moment the light comes on, immediately you see the pot.
Now change the example. It is not a pot but a lump of clay that is in the dark room, and you put on the light. What do you see? Not a pot — you see only clay.
This is the argument of another school of philosophy, the Naiyāyikas (Logicians). Then Śaṅkarācārya has to clarify that every effect can exist in two different forms.
Manifest and Unmanifest Effects: The Example of Butter in Milk
For example, consider milk. Somebody asks: "Do you have butter?" You can honestly say: "Yes, I surely have butter." They ask: "Can you lend me a cup of it?" And you have to say: "Unfortunately, I cannot — but yes, it is there. It is just not yet manifested. I have milk, and milk contains butter." So truthfully, you have to say butter is there — you cannot say there is no butter. But to bring out that butter, you have to first make the milk into yoghurt or curds, and then churn it, and then butter comes out.
This is also an āvaraṇa, a covering. Just like in the dark room you see only a piece of wood, not yet a chair, a table, or a bed — the effects of the wood are unmanifest. Two types of effects exist:
- One that is unmanifestly existing within something — like butter in milk, like a chair or table in the wood. This is called non-transactional or unmanifest butter, table, or pot.
- One that becomes manifest when the āvaraṇa (covering) is removed.
Removing the Āvaraṇa: The Pot Within the Lump of Clay
What is that covering? Clay is in the form of a lump. A lump is also a type of form. But if you want a pot, you have to destroy the lump form and shape it into a pot form.
Out of the same lump, you can make any number of objects — a small pot, a big pot, a square jug, a round jug, tall or short, wide or narrow. So many forms are possible. But the very subtle point is this: if you want to see one particular form, you must destroy every other form and shape it so that only the desired form comes out.
So first, you have to destroy the lump form of the clay. Next, you must set aside every other form the clay could take. Only then does one particular desired form manifest. But potentially, that form was always there.
So when you put on the light and see only a lump of clay — if you say "I don't see any pot here," it is not because the pot is not there, but because that clay is in the form of a lump. If you want to see a pot, you will have to destroy that lump form and manifest the pot form — the specific pot form that you require for a particular purpose.
Conclusion: Brahman Alone Exists
What then is the conclusion of all these arguments?
The conclusion is that Brahman contains everything within itself. The lump form of Brahman, by comparison, is Brahman in its undifferentiated state. And the same Brahman, when it is differentiated into different objects, is what is called Sṛṣṭi — creation.
And the essence of all these discussions is this: Brahman alone exists. Then what about this world? Well — if you have a mind, then you see Brahman as world. If you do not have a mind, then you see the world as Brahman. This is the essence of the argument.
To sum up:
- There is a cause, and that cause is none other than eternal Brahman. That is the first essence.
- What is called the effect is nothing but the manifestation of the same formless existence in different forms. That is the second essence.
- And different forms, again, are perceived only with the help of the mind — which is itself an effect.
So when there is an experience of an object through another object, that is called Sṛṣṭi. When there is no object that can perceive, that does not exist, then that would be in the form of Brahman alone.
Closing Remarks
Like this, there are so many big commentaries by Śaṅkarācārya — very highly stimulating, very useful for the intellect — but absolutely non-essential for progress in spiritual life. Simply take the meaning. Do not misunderstand the scripture, because you are reading only the first statement of the Upaniṣad. It is immediately followed by the statement that there was hunger, and that hunger was death. So there was something — but that something cannot be described.
With this, I stop today's class. We will continue further in our next class.
Closing Prayer
Om Jānānāṃ Śāradāṃ Devīṃ Rāmakṛṣṇaṃ Jagadgurum
Pada Padme Tayo Śṛtvā Praṇamāmi Muhur Muhuh
May Sri Ramakrishna, Holy Mother, and Swami Vivekananda bless us all with bhakti.
Jai Ramakrishna!