In this verse of the Gita, the word 'para'—the superior, the transcendent—carries profound significance. When discussing the three dimensions of human personality, namely the senses, the mind, and the intellect, the term 'para' employed in this verse becomes strikingly relevant—"the senses are said to be superior to their objects," and so forth. Now let us examine the meaning of two corresponding verses from the Katha Upanishad (1/3/10-11) in the light of Shankara's commentary:
The nature that has been established as the attainable goal or ultimate aim must be understood as the inner reality, proceeding from the gross senses through degrees of increasing subtlety—this is what these two mantras are meant to convey. All senses, as effects, are gross when compared to their causal subtle elements. And those subtle elements, by which the senses are produced to manifest their own nature, are superior to those senses—that is, more subtle, all-pervading, and possessed of inner reality. And the mind is superior to those subtle elements—more subtle, all-pervading, and possessed of inner reality. Here, by 'mind' we must understand the subtle elements that generate the mind, for it is these very elements that produce the mental functions characterized by intention and deliberation. And intellect is superior even to that mind—more subtle, all-pervading, and inner. Here too, by 'intellect' we must understand the subtle elements that produce the intellective function characterized by determination. And beyond even that intellect stands the Great Self—possessed of inner reality—that is, the Self, being the root-essence of the intellect of all beings, is supreme because it pervades all intellects. In other words, the Great Self, which is first produced from the unmanifest—the Hiranyagarbha principle, the embodiment of knowledge-power and action-power—is superior to those subtle elements that generate intellect, being more subtle, all-pervading, and inner in nature. Thus it is said. (1/3/10)
And beyond even the Great One (Hiranyagarbha) stands the Unmanifest—superior, that is, more subtle than the Great, and more inward in essence, and more all-encompassing than all that is manifest or explicitly expressed. This Unmanifest, which is the material cause of the entire cosmos, the reality of name and form in their unmanifested state, the totality of all action and causal powers, the Unmanifest and unformed, spoken of by names like ether when all dissolves into it, and intimately rooted in the Supreme Self like the power of the banyan tree hidden within the banyan seed—thus it is understood.
And beyond even that Unmanifest stands the Purusha—He who is the cause of all causes and the root-essence of all things—superior to it, that is, more subtle and all-pervading, and for this reason He is designated Purusha, for He pervades all things. Moreover, to rule out any reference to anything more excellent, it is declared that nothing is superior to Purusha. And since consciousness alone is the supreme reality beyond Purusha, consciousness itself is the final limit—the culmination and fulfillment—of subtlety, all-pervasiveness, and inwardness. And inasmuch as from the senses onward all the properties of successive subtlety find their ultimate resolution here in the Self, this is indeed the supreme goal of all wanderers—all bound souls possessed of motion. "When one attains to Him, one returns no more—thus liberation is gained," as the sacred tradition declares. Thus the matter is established. (1/3/11)
Summary: That Supreme Self, the goal itself, which is the very nature of the seeker of liberation, is the inner Self to be realized. The method by which this inner Self must be determined through discrimination is shown successively in these two mantras. Starting from the senses and proceeding onward, each thing being the root of the next—in this manner, the inner Self must be understood as the final essence, the root of all roots. Yet in this mantra, the method of discrimination concerning all principles, from the senses up to Hiranyagarbha, is demonstrated. (1/3/10)
And in this very mantra, from Hiranyagarbha onwards, the method of inquiry into all the principles—up to Purusha or the Inner Self—is being demonstrated. Since it is through the realization of this Inner Self that the path of worldly existence comes to cessation, therefore the very understanding of the nature of the Inner Self brings about the end of all coming and going, that is, the cessation of transmigration, and thus liberation, or moksha, is attained. (1/3/11)
Shankara says: whatever is subtle in comparison to the gross is superior. The gross is the commonplace; the subtle is the higher, the more refined than the gross. The objects of the senses are gross—we can touch them, hold them in our hands, use them; but the senses themselves are not gross; they are comparatively more subtle. And we always understand that gross power is inferior to subtle power. Therefore, the word 'superior' must be taken in the sense of 'subtle.' The second quality of the superior is this: it is weightier in extent and force. Power has a quantitative existence; but in its subtle state, power's manifestation is greater. The superior is closer to one's inner being. This body is external—the nervous system and sense organs are internal, closer to the self—the mind is yet closer to the self; intellect is closest to the self. These are all scientific definitions that spring from Vedanta. (To know the Brahman or the Supreme Self is vidya, knowledge in the highest sense. This 'vidya' is not 'science.') When the term 'Inner Self' or 'Pratyagatman' is used, it means: the inmost atman, the inner being. The external world is the outward manifestation of the atman—it is of the nature of the external dimension; the use of the word 'external' points us toward objective reality. But whenever the pointing gesture turns inward, toward oneself, the aim is the immediate dimension of truth; the witness is the subject, the atman. That external thing is the external dimension, and this inner thing is the internal dimension.
Nature has two dimensions: the external dimension and the internal dimension. Investigation of the external dimension proceeds through physical science, because that dimension is matter, what is called the 'object,' and it is apprehended through the five senses. The information gathered by the senses forms the foundation of physical science. But when that investigation is complete, the pointing gesture turns inward—toward oneself, toward human consciousness, toward the witnessing human, who is called the 'subject,' the agent, the knower, the self; there lies a profound mystery waiting in secret to reveal itself. Modern physical science has not yet grasped this truth, has not yet brought it within its scope of inquiry. But now, in this twentieth century, with the revolutionary advances that have occurred—particularly in atomic science—that witness, that agent, that subject is gradually appearing on the horizon of modern science's vision. To understand matters pertaining to the quantum, consciousness itself plays a role—scientists speak of it in this very way. Therefore, before physical science, a new dimension of consciousness, a new dimension of truth-realization, is opening. Vedanta anticipated this four thousand years ago (according to some reckonings, six and a half thousand years), and declared: after the investigation of the external principle, we must turn to the discussion of the internal principle. The awakening of internal consciousness plays a role in the realization and development of the higher knowledge.
'Truth' is what tattva means. Para-tattva is external truth or external nature; pratyak-tattva is the truth that lies hidden within all beings, or inner nature. This is an immense field of inquiry. And nowadays, in Western psychology, the investigation of consciousness is gaining importance. Until now, it had no place there. Now the subject is acquiring significance from various quarters day by day. From the theoretical angle, when we examine physics or biology, we glimpse hints of certain profound realities inherent in human existence; from the practical angle, human circumstances come into view; meanwhile, the human psyche has become gravely distorted—because of the vast advancement of technology. Physical science cannot continue to ignore this problem for much longer. If anyone desires peace, if anyone seeks complete fulfillment in life, they must examine their own mind and consciousness. The answer lies in this pratyak-tattva, the inner truth—and so does the remedy. More tools for convenience at work, more consumer goods to meet daily needs—acquiring these will not solve the problem. Because such compelling arguments exist from both the theoretical and practical angles, the importance of this subject has become evident.
The significance of the two words—para and pratyak—deserves attention. We cannot stop after examining only one dimension. The ancient sages first undertook inquiry into the para dimension, that is, the external world, and thereby established many branches of physical science. Only after that did they turn their focus to investigating the pratyak dimension, the inner world. And as a result, they grasped the integral truth of Reality—a unified, non-dualistic vision of that Truth which is 'one without a second,' manifesting equally in external nature and in the inner consciousness of human beings. For this reason, Vedanta could embrace and acknowledge Western science with full understanding; an acknowledgment that Western science had to struggle continuously to gain from European religion and ethics, and its success came gradually, step by step. This is why Vedanta speaks of the self as pratyag-atman, as pratyak-svarupa, as pratyak-tattva—the inner self, the inner nature, the inner truth. All these terms are used in Vedantic literature.
What truth is vibrating within me? Look into the eyes of a newborn child and you will see that through those eyes unfolds some profound dimension. What are those dimensions? Look into the eyes of a doll and you see nothing of that depth; only the surface appears. In any living child, those eyes unfold a mysterious, profound dimension. Through such inquiry, the sages discovered that truth residing within as the self—these three sheaths or coverings of the inner truth: the senses, the mind, and the intellect.
Thus the words pratyak and para carry deep meaning. Modern physics has examined only the para or external aspect of nature. Now the pratyak or inner aspect is gradually peering into the horizons of physical science. Therefore, the word paranyahuh conveys—subtler, vaster within, more intimate to one's own self. This subtlety—vast in extent and power, and closer to one's own truth, to the innermost self. Three words are employed in light of the meaning of 'para.' The word 'pratyag-atman' means 'inner self.'
When we ascend from the realm of sense-perception—the system of the senses—to the plane of mind, we discover something far more subtle, 'beyond the reach of sense'; something mahant—'vaster in scope and mightier in power'—and pratyagatmabhuta—'more inward, like the inner soul of man himself'. The mind cannot be grasped, cannot be touched, cannot be moved about in one's hands. The nervous system can be manipulated, the sense-organs can be manipulated—the eyes, ears, and so forth; but the mind cannot be moved about. Yet the mind exists. It possesses far greater power than the sense-system itself. When the mind grows weak, even the potency of the senses diminishes. Thus the ancient seers understood the mind as 'the more subtle', 'vaster in scope and mightier in power', mahant and pratyagatmabhuta—'closer to man's inner essence'. Then comes the plane of intellect—the third stratum of the human system. Intellect is even more subtle, vaster in scope and power, and more truly one's own self than either sense or mind; subtle, mahant, and pratyagatmabhuta. When we examine these three, a truth emerges: the deeper we penetrate inward, the more resources of power we discover within our own inner being. Intellect is regarded as 'nearest to the soul'—nedistham brahma. Brahman, whom we also call the Atman, is our true being, our soul. When the intellect acquires the purity that brings inner vision, that person realizes the infinite Atman, the Brahman; and whoever gains this experience becomes Buddha—one of perfect knowledge. Shankara says that this subtlety, this vastness, this inwardness attains infinity in this eternally liberated being, the Atman. In every human body-mind-system, there exists both developed power of action—in limited measure—and latent power of action—in infinite measure. The developed power we find in the body, in muscles, in nerves, in mind, in intellect; but latent power abides behind the Atman. So each of us moves about wielding only a small treasure of strength, though behind it lies an infinite treasure of which we remain unaware. Vedanta wishes to tell every human being: such a spiritual power lies dormant within you. This Atman is eternally free. No sin, no transgression can taint it. Such is our true nature. This ultimate truth is what Vedanta carries forth to humanity. "I know nothing of this," anyone may object; but the ignorance of a truth does not efface it. That the earth is round remained unknown to humanity for centuries. Later, science discovered this truth—it did not create it. Similarly, the ancient sages discovered this profound truth concerning the Atman on behalf of all mankind. In the forty-first verse of the Gita it is said: Sin and transgression can infect the sense-system, the mind, and the intellect, but never the Atman. In each of us, this touchstone remains eternally pure and eternally free. Therefore, the means of our liberation lies within us. We need only discover this truth. None can destroy it. Shankara says in his commentary on the Gita: "Even God cannot destroy the true nature of the human soul." Yes, he uses precisely these words! Therefore, these three qualities—subtlety, vastness, and inwardness—attain infinite measure in the Atman. Ah, what a beautiful and empowering vision!
When a person comes to know this truth—this intellect, this mind, these senses—they are then adorned with a new sanctity, a new love and compassion. What a joyous transformation comes over human life and human relations when even the smallest measure of this truth is grasped. In the Bhagavad Gita, Lord Krishna speaks of this very thing in the second chapter: svalpamapasy dharmasya trayate mahato bhayat (2/40)—in Rabindranath Tagore's translation: "If there be even a little dharma at the center, there is no need to fear the multitudes of fear at the periphery." (Cited from the essay 'Kartar Ichchhay Karma')
The pure conscious Self can never be divisible. The Gita says: avibhaktam cha bhuteshu vibhaktam iva cha sthitam (13/16)—avibhaktam = without division cha = also bhuteshu = in all living beings vibhaktam = divided iva = as if cha = also sthitam = situated—"This Self dwells undivided in all beings, yet appears as if divided"; and again "avibhaktam vibhaktesu taj-jnanam viddhi sattvikam" (Gita, 18/20)—avibhaktam = undivided vibhaktesu = in the numberless divided tat = that jnanam = knowledge viddhi = know sattvikam = in the mode of goodness—"In these things that appear divided, He dwells undivided."
Upon the foundation of this profound discovery, the Gita presents to us a hidden philosophy of life and action. According to the principles of human nature, the Gita has shown how this truth may be applied practically—in curbing criminal tendencies in human life and in establishing peace within society. No one can be happy in a society steeped in criminality. All are happy in a healthy society. Therefore, to build a society free from crime—a society where all are equal—to work with a sense of unity and with the spirit of cooperation becomes, for mankind, akin to gaining a special right. For this reason great spiritual teachers have come again and again, intent upon leading humanity away from conflict, hatred, and crime, toward the path of sympathy, mutual dependence, and cooperation.
When a person gains power in their own hands and begins to misuse it, the force needed to redirect that power toward constructive ends is the discriminative power between right and wrong; and only when this power attains harmony with the Self does it rise to the level of true intellect. Therefore Krishna addresses all of humanity saying, yo buddheh paratas tu sah—"That which is beyond intellect, that is the Self"—where this subtlety, this vastness, this inward-turning reaches infinite measure. This is the nature of humanity. "Tat tvam asi" or "Tat tvam asi" (Chandogya Upanishad, 6/8/7), "Thou art That"—this great utterance has been proclaimed in the Vedas. The more people realize this truth, the greater the good for human society. There is no dogma in this, no creed to believe in. This is the science pertaining to the innermost being of man, which the ancient seers discovered, and which later seers have rediscovered and revealed to all, so that we too might rediscover this principle. It is not presented as some dogma to be understood, nor as a doctrine to be accepted.
Thus Lord Sri Krishna instructs humankind in the philosophy concerning our innermost nature, through which we shall become capable of enjoying a fulfilling life and afford others too the opportunity of such living. This is the goal of human evolution. International peace, international welfare—all of this becomes possible because these qualities exist within every human being; our only duty is to elevate human evolution beyond the level of the senses toward a higher plane of morality, purity, and spirituality.
Thus the word 'para'—beyond—holds great significance. Ordinarily it is translated as 'higher.' But what do we mean by 'higher'? It might suggest a higher place, as when we set something upon a shelf—yet that is not the meaning here. The entire matter can be presented in a single statement: the resources of human faculty are arranged according to three qualities in progressive degrees—subtlety, vastness, and inwardness. This beautiful formulation appears in Shankaracharya's commentary on the Katha Upanishad. The final stage of this progressive scale arrives when we attain that infinite being beyond intellect—as the teaching goes, "yo buddheh paratastu sah," that which is beyond and transcendent to intellect. We are now occupied merely with understanding the transcendent nature of the world, while ignoring the immanent. The time has come to turn our attention toward this immanent dimension and discover the truth that resides there. Both the transcendent and immanent principles are true. There exists one singular infinite reality alone—appearing sometimes as the external truth, sometimes as the internal. This is the language of Vedanta.
This is also expounded in a great verse of Gaudapada's Mandukya Upanishad Karika (2/38): Tattvamadhyatmikam drishta tattavum drishta tu bahyatah. Tattvibhutastadamarmas tattvad aprachyuto bhavet..
Meaning: 'Perceiving the truth that lies hidden within your being'—tattva-m-adhyatmikam drishta—and 'perceiving the truth that lies hidden in external nature'—tattva-m drishta tu bahyatah—becoming unified with the truth—tattvibhutah—and experiencing bliss in reality itself—taddaramah—you shall never be severed from truth—tattva-d aprachyuto bhavet.
In this way you may remain forever assured of complete freedom from all inauspicious influence. What is true of any matter, that alone is tattva—thus speaks Shankaracharya. There exists something called 'tattva-anveshana,' inquiry into truth—it may be found in the external world or in the inner realm. Yet the ultimate word on this matter is this: there is but one truth. The words 'external' and 'internal' hold no meaning with respect to truth itself. Just as we might say: the earth is surrounded by a single ocean, yet for convenience we divide it into the Indian Ocean, the Pacific Ocean, the Atlantic Ocean. But the ocean is one, not many. Thus the usage of 'external truth,' 'internal truth'—these serve only the purposes of investigation and study. In its own nature, tattva is singular, infinite, non-dual. And according to Vedanta, to realize it is the goal of human evolution. To advance toward tattva itself is what Vedanta proclaims as life's purpose. Jesus said, "You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free."
Let us say more about the Gita's verse 3/42. The mind is subject to all the senses. The mind remains enslaved by the senses; whatever objects the senses present before it, the mind readily grasps them without discrimination. We may call the senses mere material substance, yet as vehicles of the mind, they become instruments through which the mind experiences objects of desire. So long as the mind remains yoked to the senses, their tyranny shall not cease. This is why action is necessary—through continuous action, the mind becomes steady, and when the mind grows still, it can no longer be called "mind" in its restless form; it becomes controlled and concentrated—and this concentration is what we call intellect. This intellect, unlike the mind, is not volatile; where the mind scatters itself among countless objects, the intellect cannot be so dispersed. When this intellect is turned inward through practice and discrimination, nothing save the Self can float upon its surface. Once the intellect becomes Self-directed through yogic practice and discipline, the agitation and scattering caused by the senses ceases; therefore, mastery over the senses becomes effortless. When the mind's movement toward the senses and sense-objects is stilled, the true nature of the Self unfolds—the mind becomes free from desire and attains the state of liberation. Then desire and its impressions can no longer leave their marks upon consciousness, and the fire of passion itself, like the flame of an oilless lamp, is extinguished. To master this discipline, one must work with faith and devotion on one hand, and on the other, with discriminative wisdom, restrain the senses through a disciplined mind. Without concentrating the mind, true discriminative wisdom cannot awaken. The Upanishads declare: विज्ञानसारथिर्यस्तु मनः प्रगृहवान् नरः। सोऽध्वनः पारमाप्नोति तद्विष्णोः परमं पदम्।। (Katha Upanishad, 1/3/9)
Meaning: 'He who'—but he who possesses 'discriminative wisdom as charioteer'—one whose wisdom is the guide—'holds firm the reins of mind'—he who grasps the rope of mind, 'reaches the far shore of the path'—he crosses beyond the ocean of worldly existence, 'attains that supreme state of Vishnu'—that supreme seat of all-pervading Brahman (Brahman itself, just as Rahu's head is Rahu itself). In short: the person endowed with superior intellect and mastered mind, having crossed the far shore of worldly existence, attains the true nature of the Supreme Self.
The person whose charioteer is discriminative wisdom, and who holds in that charioteer's hands the reins of mind—the instrument for guiding the horses—the eyes, ears, and other senses are the horses of this bodily chariot, and their field of movement is the realm of sound, touch, form, taste, and smell. Thus, he whose charioteer of discriminative wisdom can hold all the senses in check through the reins of mind—he alone can cross beyond this path of worldly existence, this endless cycle of birth and death—and the far shore of this worldly path is none other than the Supreme State of the Divine.
In the Gita's passage under discussion, 'Indriyani parani' — the senses, mind, and intellect are declared to be the seat of desire. Therefore, to conquer desire, one must take refuge in something beyond these; and it is precisely this that is being expounded here. We must remember that the order of our inner life that the Gita prescribes follows the Samkhya doctrine. On one side stands Purusha — eternal, immutable, inactive, the indivisible self — within which there is neither evolution nor development; it remains forever as it has always been. On the other side lies Prakriti — inert and motionless except for the consciousness of Purusha; only when Purusha draws near, only through contact with Purusha, can it act. Then both its evolution and involution occur. From the union of Purusha and Prakriti arise both our inner life and the external world. For us, what is inner emerges first, because Purusha's consciousness is the primary and principal cause, while Prakriti is the secondary and relative cause. Yet our senses and inner instruments are born of Prakriti, not of Purusha.
In successive stages, intellect comes first — the determinative and resolute faculty evolved from Prakriti. Then, as a second evolution, mind emerges from intellect. As a third evolution, the ten senses spring forth from mind — the five sense organs of perception, like the eye, and the five organs of action, like the hand. These are followed by the particular powers of the sense organs — color, taste, and the like — and their gross supports, the five elements: earth and others. These five elements, combining with one another in various ways, produce all the objects of the external world.
The evolutionary sequence in the material world appears to run in reverse order. From gross matter, there gradually unfolds the development of body, senses, mind, and intellect. Yet when science, through its observation of the material world, has arrived at its most recent conclusions, we learn that within even the grossest atoms and molecules, an activity of intelligence is at work. In examining the movement of electrons — the subtlest constituents of matter — Heisenberg and other modern scientists have discovered that the laws of nature do not operate like a machine; there is a certain incompleteness within them. This is the indeterminism of nature — the uncertainty principle of our age. At any given moment, there is no fixed rule governing how a particle will behave; its action is determined from within itself, and this is the operation of intelligence. This indeterminacy in the realm of subtle electrons manifests itself in the larger world only as collective, determinate causality — as fixed laws of cause and effect.
By examining the patterns of many years past, we can reasonably estimate how many people will take their own lives in the coming year; but there is no means of determining which particular individuals will do so. Science has established countless laws governing the material world, yet these laws are true only statistically, in the aggregate. Behind them, in nature's hidden realm, a play of uncertainty unfolds—and there, a single intelligence subtly directs the machinery of nature toward its own purposes. Intelligence itself appeared first in nature's evolution, and through its workings nature has undergone all subsequent transformations. Thus we see that Samkhya's analysis aligns with modern material science. Yet modern science has been unable to explain how consciousness could emerge from matter's mechanical operations. Samkhya provides that explanation: the operations of inert nature, when reflected in the consciousness of Purusha, manifest as our conscious intellect, mind, and senses—these together constitute our inner being. Everything else that remains—that alone is the world of sense-objects, the external world. The individual self is a part of Purusha itself: "Mamaivansho Jeevaloke Jeevaabhutah Sanatanah" (Gita, 15/7)—"These bound creatures in the material world are my eternal, many-faceted parts." Descended into nature, the individual draws forth from it the senses and other faculties, identifies itself with all of them, and becomes bound—or appears to be bound. To return from nature's bondage to the pure consciousness of Purusha, one must reverse the very descent by which consciousness entered matter. The Upanishads describe this progressive unfoldment of our inner power—the development of all things—and the Gita too uses language nearly identical to the Upanishads in depicting this progression. When the senses rush toward their objects, one must draw them inward, calm them in the mind—their very source. One must draw the mind into the intellect and calm it there; draw the intellect into the Self and calm it there. Then the individual, established in self-knowledge, becomes a witness to nature's operations without being subject to them—no longer desiring anything that the external world or external life could offer.
'The intellect transcends the senses'—we have seen how intelligence emerges first in nature's evolution. Yet the intellect's operation within inert atoms and molecules is severely constrained, for there exists no instrument adequate to its expression. Only when nature fashioned the human brain did the material world acquire a vessel capable of manifesting intellect's full work. But to arrive there, nature had to traverse countless evolutionary stages across millions of years. The emergence of life within the material realm alone made the mind's development possible. In plants we discern the crude elements of sensation, the sense of pleasure and pain, memory, and inner impulse. At some stage of evolution, with the development of specialized senses, we witness a higher expression of mind itself. Through the cultivation of intellect, humanity has risen above the animal plane. By ascending still further, man shall attain the superhuman—this is life's purpose on earth. For this, there exists beyond intellect the Self, the supreme cause of our inner existence, which must be known through intellect itself, toward which all our aspirations must be directed. 'What transcends intellect'—the Self that stands beyond intellect is called in the Gita the 'Immutable Spirit'. The senses, mind, and intellect constitute our ordinary human life. The modern Western ideal is this: develop intellect fully and through its aid determine duty from non-duty, regulate the life of individual and society. But the Gita shows that so long as we remain confined within senses, mind, and intellect, desire becomes the fundamental principle of our life, keeping us far from all true knowledge concerning existence and the world. What is required first is to restrain the passions—desire and anger—and with an impersonal, tranquil temperament, to regard all things free from ego. For only above the clouds of desire, in that calm, luminous sky, can we attain true self-knowledge, can we behold the radiant truth of the world and nature.
This small selfhood of ours, whose perfection we deem our highest achievement, is but nature's creation, an inert puppet in nature's hands. Behind it lies an impersonal Self—the same in all, observing and knowing all things—an equanimous, indifferent, universal existence that upholds creation, a witness-consciousness that allows nature to unfold according to the inherent law of all things, yet remains unbound by nature's work, loses not itself. To move from the 'I' and the turbulent personality into this calm, equanimous, eternal, universal, impersonal Self—this is the primary practice of one who performs action with true vision, who engages in yoga-centered work.
In nature's unfolding, intellect is the highest principle, yet only when we come to know the Spirit that stands beyond nature can we truly transform this natural life into the divine. Intellect brings liberation—through intellect, man returns from his agitated, restless mental existence to his calm, eternal spiritual essence, and ultimately attains freedom from the eternal bondage of birth and action. The ideal of the Gita's karma-yoga is to work divinely within that liberation; whatever of the divine nature and unfailing will remains veiled within us now yet manifests itself throughout creation—through conscious union with that very power is such work accomplished.
Lord Krishna is saying: do not become the slave of the senses, mind, and intellect, for they have no independent existence. Can the eyes, ears, nose—can these function on their own? No, they cannot. They must remain bound to the body. And without the mind, the senses themselves cannot work. That mind, in turn, is subject to the intellect. Thus they are all dependent upon one another. The soul holds them all together. The soul alone is independent, subject to nothing. It is the witness, the seer. It is to that soul one must cling. Consider a ship with its anchor cast. Severed from the anchor, where will the ship drift? There is no knowing. Yet what a vast vessel it is, what immense power it possesses! But the moment it breaks free from its moorings, it becomes helpless. It cannot do anything by itself. The soul is like that anchor. So long as we hold to the soul, we are secure. The soul is supreme, the highest. There is nothing greater than the soul. The great saint Lalon, too, speaks in his songs of the soul's dwelling as the 'City of Mirrors,' and of the individual soul as the 'Neighbour': Close beside my house stands the City of Mirrors, where dwells a Neighbour of mine. Yet not once in all my days have I beheld him.
—This eternal longing to glimpse the Neighbour, this failure to see him across all our days, and this fierce spiritual hunger to reach that City of Mirrors—it is this that keeps a human being truly alive, truly human.