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Renunciation of the fruit leads to infinite gains

1. Brothers, in the Second Chapter we viewed the whole of the science of life. The Third Chapter provides further elaboration of that science. We had a look at the principles; now we shall look into the details. In the last Chapter, we dealt with karmayoga.

Renunciation of the fruit of actions is the thing of distinctive importance in karmayoga. The question then is, does any gain accrue to a karmayogi or not? The Third Chapter tells us that renunciation of the fruit results in infinite gains for a karmayogi.

Here I am reminded of the story of Lakshmi's swayamvara. [1] A whole lot of gods and demons had gathered at her swayamvara with the hope of marrying her. Lakshmi had not announced any test that they had to pass. Coming to the pandal where they were seated, she declared that she would marry one who was not coveting her. But all of those assembled there were desirous of marrying her; so all of them were naturally ruled out. Lakshmi then set forth in search of one having no desire for her. She finally found Lord Vishnu lying serenely on Shesha, the cobra. She put the garland, around His neck [2] and has been sitting at His feet ever since. As the poet puts it, ‘Na mage tayachi Rama hoya dasi’ [3] - ‘Lakshmi   becomes a servant of one who does not covet her.' This is the beauty of it.
2. An ordinary man closely guards the fruit of his actions so that none else could have it. But thereby he loses infinite gains that could otherwise have been his. The man attached to worldly affairs toils a lot, but gets little in return. On the other hand, a karmayogi receives infinite gains with little effort. The difference in their mental attitudes makes all the difference. Tolstoy has written, 'People praise Jesus' sacrifice, but the ordinary people toil much more than Jesus, carry much more burden, suffer much more. Were they to put in half the labour for the Lord, they would become greater than Jesus!'

3. People entangled in worldly affairs put in arduous labour; but they do so for the sake of petty gains. One gets what one seeks. The world will not pay more for our wares than the

price that we ourselves put on them. Sudama went to Lord Krishna with the offering of a handful of parched rice. It might not have been worth a single farthing, but to Sudama, it was priceless. It had a stamp of his love and devotion on them [4] which, as it were, had charged them with some magical potency. A small, insignificant thing gains in value and potency when it is so charged. What is, after all, the weight of a currency note? It is just a little piece of paper. If burnt, it would not heat up even a drop of water. But it has the stamp of the State on it, and that gives it value.

This is the beauty of karmayoga. Selfless action is like a currency note. Stamped with genuine feelings it acquires value. In a sense, I am here revealing the secret of idol-worship. The idea of idol-worship is extremely charming. To begin with, an idol was just a piece of stone. We put life into it, we pour our feelings of devotion into it. These feelings cannot be broken. A stone can be broken into pieces, but not the sentiments. The moment we withdraw our devotion from the idol, it once again gets reduced to a piece of stone which can then be easily broken into pieces.

4. Action is like a piece of stone or paper. My mother may scribble just three or four lines on a piece of paper and send it to me, while another gentleman may send me a bundle of fifty pages of indifferent writing. Now, which one has more value? The sentiments expressed in the few lines from my mother are priceless, they are sacred. The lengthy writing is insignificant compared to it. Action must be imbued with the warmth of feelings. We assess a labourer's work and pay him wages accordingly; but dakshina [5]  is not given like that. Water is sprinkled on it before it is given. The amount of dakshina is not important; it is the feeling of reverence behind it that is important. The touch of water is symbolic of the feeling in the heart of the host. There is a remarkable saying in Manusmriti. “In those days, students used to stay with the guru (master) for twelve years. The master would teach them and make them human beings in the true sense. Now, what should a student offer to the master? In those days, masters did not charge fees. The student, after completion of his studies, was supposed to offer what he felt like giving and thought proper. Manu says, "Give the master a flower, a fan, a pair of sandals, or a pitcher of water." Is this a joke? No; the point is that, whatever is offered should be offered as a sign of reverence. A flower in itself has little value, but charged with devotion, its value becomes immeasurable. The poet has sung the praise of Rukmini. She put in the scale a single leaf of Tulsi which equaled the weight of Lord Krishna while heaps of gold ornaments put by Satyabhama proved to be insufficient to weigh Him, because the Tulsi leaf put by Rukmini was full of devotion. It was no longer an ordinary leaf; it was a charged one [6]. This is true of the actions of a karmayogi too.

Imagine that two persons have gone for a bath to the river Ganga. One of them says, "What, after all, is this Ganga that people talk so much about? It is nothing but the combination of two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen." The other one says, "This great river emerged from the holy lotus-feet of Lord Vishnu, dwelt in the matted hair of Lord Shiva. Thousands of sages and ascetics have performed austerities on her banks. Countless holy and meritorious deeds have taken place there. Such is this sacred Mother Ganga." He takes a bath with these feelings in mind. The other fellow, for whom the Ganga's water is just a compound of hydrogen and oxygen, also bathes in the river. Both get the benefit of physical cleansing; but it is a petty benefit. Even a bullock can get this benefit. But the second man, the devotee, has his mind and heart purified as well, which is an invaluable gain.

A man doing surya-namaskars [7] after bathing will certainly get the benefit of physical exercise; but if he is not doing them for the sake of health only, but as a form of worship, he will also have a sharp and radiant intellect in addition to a healthy body. He will get from the Sun-God vigour and creative energy.

The act may be the same outwardly; but the difference in the inward feelings makes a world of difference. Action by a spiritually motivated selfless person elevates him morally and spiritually whereas the same action by a worldly person results in bondage. A karmaogi farmer will look upon farming as his swadharma. It will, of course, fill his stomach; but he is not farming for that purpose. He will eat only to enable him to perform the swadharma of farming. Swadharma is the end for him, and eating a means therefor. But to another farmer, food will be the end and farming a means therefor. These two attitudes are poles apart.

This has been figuratively described in the Second Chapter. It is stated therein that a karmayogi is asleep when others are awake whereas he is awake when others are asleep. What does this mean? We are ever mindful about filling our stomachs, while a karmayogi is keen about spending every moment in work and does not waste a single moment. While ordinary worldly persons live in order to eat, he eats only because some thing has to be fed to the body to survive to perform selfless service. While ordinary worldly persons enjoy eating, for a yogi it is a burdensome task. He would not therefore eat with relish; he would have control over his palate. The attitudes are thus diametrically opposite to each other. This has been metaphorically described as ‘what for others is a night is a day for the yogi, and what for others is a day is a night for the yogi.’ The actions are apparently alike, but what is important is that a karmoyagi enjoys work leaving aside any attachment to the fruit of his actions. He will eat and sleep like others, but his attitude towards everything will be different. To impress this point, the ideal of the sthitaprajna has been put forth at the outset itself in the Gita, although sixteen Chapters are still ahead.

The similarity and difference between the actions of a worldly man and those of a karmayogi are immediately clear. For example, if a karmayogi is engaged in the care of the cows, he will do the work with the idea of serving the society by providing it with plenty of milk; and at the same time he will look to it as an opportunity to have a relationship of love with all the lower orders of beings through the service of the cows. He will certainly get his wages, but that is not his motivation. Real joy lies in the divine feelings informing the actions.

7. Every act of a karmayogi unites him with the whole universe. We are supposed to take meals only after watering the Tulsi plant in the courtyard. This is for creating a bond of love with the whole world of plants. How can we eat, keeping the Tulsi plant starved? Beginning with the identification with the cow and the Tulsi plant we are to progress till we are one with the whole creation. In the Mahabharata war, fighting used to stop at sunset and everybody would then go for performing religious rites etc. But Lord Krishna used to rejoice in actions like unyoking the horses from the chariot, giving them water, gently massaging their bodies and nursing their wounds. What a joy the Lord found in such service! The poet is never tired of describing all this. Bring before your mind's eye the picture of the divine charioteer carrying the feed of the horses in the folds of His lower garment and feeding the horses with His own hands and realize how joyful karmayoga is. In karmayoga, all actions attain the highest spiritual character. Take khadi work. A khadi worker hawking khadi [8] from door to door carrying its load on his head never feels tired, for he knows that millions of his brothers and sisters are famished and is inspired by the idea of providing a few morsels to them. His work of selling a few yards of khadi is linked to daridranarayan-God in the form of the poor.

(To be continued in the next issue)

[Reproduced with kind permission of Paramdham Publication, Pavnar from Chapter 3 of ‘Talks on The Gita’ by Sant Vinoba Bhave, 16th edition (Jan 2005)]

Notes

1.    In ancient India, princesses used to choose their spouses. The custom was called swayamvara. All those princes wishing to marry the princess used to be invited to the ceremony at which the princess would publicly choose a bridegroom for herself. Often, they were made to perform some very difficult task. For example, princes gathered at the swayamvara of Sita were asked to lift the bow of Lord Shiva, which nobody except Rama could succeed in doing.

2.    The act signifies acceptance of the person as a spouse.

3.    Lakshmi is the Goddess of prosperity. So the verse also means that one gets riches when one does not covet them.

4.    Sudama, a childhood friend of Lord Krishna, was a poor Brahmin. His wife once coaxed him to meet Krishna, who was now the ruler of Dwarka and who could relieve them of their penury. Sudama visited Krishna with an offering of parched rice as he could afford nothing else. The Lord sensed the feeling of love behind this offering and gave him countless riches.

5.    It means money or other things offered to the priest with reverence for the services rendered as a religious obligation.

6.    Satyabhama and Rukmini, both queens of Lord Krishna, once had a dispute over who loves Him the most. They thereupon decided to weigh Him. Krishna sat on one of the pans of the balance and Satyabhama put heaps of gold ornaments on the .other pan, but they could not equal the Lord's weight. Rukmini then weighed the Lord against just a Tulsi leaf, but the leaf equaled the Lord's weight.

7.    A form of worshipping the Sun-God, it is also a well-known yogic exercise wherein body goes through different motions, thereby getting all-round physical exercise.

8.    Handspun, hand-woven cotton cloth, popularized by Mahatma Gandhi. For him, it was a symbol of self-reliance and identification with the poor.

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