Questioner: Pranam Acharya Ji.
Acharya Prashant: Ji.
Questioner: Sir, wise and unwise men are both related to the world. On the periphery, both wise and unwise persons' attitudes towards the external circumstances appear to be the same. Wise men will also moan, unwise men will also moan, and so on and so forth. These all look quite similar in nature, but a wise man is mourning because he is going away from the path of liberation, and otherwise for the unwise men.
So, sir, in today's world, what I see is that an unwise person seems to be making a lot of these arguments which otherwise suit a wise person—similar to what Arjuna has been doing. On the contrary, these people are revered more as opposed to a wise person in the world today. It appears to me as quite unfortunate because that's not the way we look at it from today's verse. So, I just wanted to have your view on this, sir.
Acharya Prashant: That's the wrong relationship that the world is choosing to have with an unwise man. If you are to respect, you have to respect someone who is wise and who can bring his wisdom to your use. Instead, if you choose to have a relationship of respect with someone who is himself unwise, obviously, he can be of no use to you. So again, it's a failure of relationship—something is misplaced. Respect is something that has to be placed at the right point.
Similarly, lack of respect or withdrawal of respect is of tremendous importance. It is impossible to respect something very useful and also respect something very useless. Respect is not something universal. To respect is to admit that there is something there worthy of absorption—something I can look up to. And if you respect just about everything, then you're absorbing a lot of trash.
Respect has to be exclusive, selective; it has to be an act of distinction, it has to be an act of exception. It cannot be something by default. If only the exceptional one is to be respected, then respect has to be an act of exception-making. I've made an exception by respecting you. Respect is not something that I just throw about like crumbs to dogs.
You have to know the right relationship with everything. Everything!
Questioner: Even in the case of mourning for the living or dead, as explained in today's verse, mourning seems to be revered in today's world. People who are mourning seem to get a lot of sympathy, as opposed to a wise man telling them that this is not what they should be mourning for because that person, living or dead, is not taking them anywhere.
Acharya Prashant: It is assumed that the mourner knows his mind. It is assumed that if a person is weeping, he knows that he has indeed lost something of substance and value. It is assumed, and it's a huge assumption. I find you weeping; I come to you with consolations—not words of realization, but words of consolation. What is my assumption?
My assumption is that, first of all, you have indeed lost something. But I say that's a huge assumption. Most people who are weeping are weeping for nothing. That which they are weeping for has little value. That which they are not weeping for is everything, and they do not know of its loss. That's why compassion and consolation are so different, right? Sympathy and empathy are very different.
When you are compassionate, first of all, you know where the person stands. In compassion, you never allow yourself to feel as if something really substantial has been lost. If nothing substantial has been lost, what then is compassion for? Compassion is to display to the person that he has actually not lost much. In consolation, you consolidate his belief that he has indeed lost something. You tell him, "May God give you the power to bear the great loss." Is that not a typical statement of consolation? "May God give the bereaved family the strength to bear the irreparable loss."
What have you told him? The loss is real. We do not claim to assert that the loss is unreal. We are just using this example to bring out the nature of the consolation process. In consolation, the first assumption is that the fellow is indeed wise. If he's weeping, then he does have a genuine reason to shed tears. That’s a huge assumption. The wise one has compassion, not consolation.
In compassion, first of all, you see what is it that deserves to be loved, what is it that deserves to be ignored, and gently, you want to bring the same realization to the other. "Son, you are weeping for something that must not be wept for. Son, there are other things that you must rather be worried about, and you are totally ignoring them in your melancholy mood."
The new car has been stolen. The fellow is absolutely disconsolate. Why? He had forgotten his hairband in the car. You have no measure of what deserves to be wept for. "I had left my shades in the car!" That's mentioned even in the FIR. The FIR says, "My shades have been stolen. Incidentally, they were in a car, a newly bought car."
It's all right to weep, but only after having a real assessment of the loss. You're weeping for something that has so little value—shades, bands, wristbands, toothbrush... well, I don’t think someone forgets a toothbrush in the car, but whatever, socks! And you have no feeling for the real thing, for the big thing that you are losing.
The saint will not say, "Do not cry." He will say, "Cry for the right reason. Cry you must, but for the right reason." Your problem is pettiness. Your problem is misplaced attention. You have been crying hoarse for an hour—continue for another too. I'm not here to stop you, but cry for the right reason. If the reason is right, come on, kill me—even that is acceptable. If the reason is right, everything is acceptable. They say, "All is fair in love and war." All is fair in the process of realization, in liberation.
Questioner: Sir, so, as you mentioned, the wise man simply sees and is attentive to the situation. So, does that mean that if a person is observing the current situation, whatever it is, without being consumed or attached to the consequences or whatsoever, can he afford to smile as Shri Krishna has been doing while listening to Arjuna's illogical statements?
Acharya Prashant: You observe a situation so that you can know your right relationship with it. You are not yet liberated. If you're not yet liberated, you need relationships. Shri Krishna can afford to coolly smile—you cannot. Shri Krishna stands truly detached, whereas we are in the process; we have not yet arrived. So, do not just try to emulate Shri Krishna.
Shri Krishna is not there to fight—mind the symbolism. Arjuna has to fight. Shri Krishna can, at most, tell the right thing to Arjuna, but the participation, the engagement, has to be Arjuna's. Shri Krishna is not going to get engaged or entangled. He says, "Fine."
Shri Krishna being a charioteer is a very potent symbol—please understand. You are Arjuna, not Shri Krishna. When I teach Gita, do I say that first of all, you must understand that you are Shri Krishna? No. What do I emphasize?
Questioner: Arjuna.
Acharya Prashant: Please see your identity with Arjuna.
So, you're Arjuna. Arjuna has to dispassionately observe to know the right relationship. As far as Krishna is concerned, there is hardly any relationship. Arjuna's position is of greater use to us because we are like him.
So, when it comes to Arjuna, remember—there has to be a relationship. You have to go through the whole thing. You have to navigate through the entire spectrum of relationships. You will have to see sadness, you will have to see closeness, you will have to see coming together and then falling out, and patch-ups and breakups, affiliations and disillusionments. You will have to go through the entire spectrum.
You’re not Shri Krishna. You’re not Shri Krishna. Your job is to know how to navigate. You cannot say you are at the destination, therefore you don't need to navigate. You do need to navigate. You're not at the destination, and to navigate, you must know your relationship with every turn, every bend, every signal, every symbol, and every part of your vehicle and your body. You must know everything. You have a relationship with everything.
Spirituality is not about bringing an end to relationships; it's about having the right ones. So that classical faded image of the spiritual man just dispassionately watching everything with a smile is not very useful. What smile? You're supposed to laugh, you're supposed to cry, you're supposed to burn in anger and envy. You're supposed to dance. You're supposed to put yourself together, and you're also supposed to break down. You're supposed to experience every bit of it. Are you getting it?
Questioner: Yes, sir.
Acharya Prashant: But in the right relationship, with the sole objective of knowing—realization, liberation, call it whatever. If someone says, "I'm a wise man, I'm a spiritual man, therefore I never experience whatever—fraudster. Fraud!” Even Krishna gets angry, and you say you are a spiritual man, so you never get angry? Imposter! Actor! That too, a bad one.
"I'm a spiritual man, I have never, never, never experienced lust." You're not a spiritual man; you're just impotent. You have to go through everything. In that lies the possibility, and in that lies the challenge.
Questioner: Sir based on the relationship that I carry with the prakriti, the relation should be something which should take me towards Liberation as opposed to the other way wherein I get too much consumed with you know, the objects of prakriti which is taking me away from Atma or liberation.
So, sir, my question was that, often at times, when we have these relationships, and we kind of make use of them to go towards liberation, we can seemingly use something which could be of you know, godly nature—for example, worshipping the gods, etc.
But then, we get too much consumed with that, which actually, in the process, makes us go a little off track from the path of liberation and reaching Ātma. Even though worshipping God seems to be the object in Prakrīti itself, on the periphery, it appears that it may lead me to ultimate liberation.
Acharya Prashant: No, that's possible—not just with worship of a deity, but with respect to anything that you choose. It could be a food item, it could be money, it could be a person—anything.
Your love must constantly reverberate within. Even as you are looking at the one in front of you, you must remember the one in the middle of you. You're not looking at that one—the one in front—just to keep gawking. You're looking at that one so that something within can materialize.
He is a means to be used. Now, it could be an idol, it could be knowledge, it could be money. It doesn’t matter what it is. It puzzled me for a while. I had read this story when I was very young.
So, there is this fellow—a teacher, a guide, something—who gets stranded on an island with a few of his disciples. So, what to do? How to survive?
Initially, he forbids them from eating anything. He says, "You will not eat anything." And the challenge is survival. They are all capable disciples. He forbids them from eating anything, and he himself eats. He keeps eating, and he says, "None of you will eat anything." And very actively, he and the mentees look for ways to escape. And then, they do discover some way to escape.
But it turns out that the escape will take a few more days or a few more weeks—something. And their resources won’t last that long—the food that is. So now, he has kept the entire team on fasting, just emaciated them. And he himself has been eating—he has maintained his weight, or rather, gained some weight. And now, he tells his chaps, "Huh, eat me." So, he tells them, "You kill me and eat me."
"And now, you have been doubly helped—because you have been kept on fasting for so long, therefore your urge to eat has been reduced. You have learned to survive on very little." You do not need much. You do not need much. And myself—I have all the food. And now that when I'll be gone, this body will be of help to you.
I found this quite strange. I was a kid, but I got the idea—the real thing is about being of use. I must be of use in my death. And if I can be of use to you only by dying, I will die. And it's not that I'm saving you just because it's a moral virtue or something. You guys deserve to be saved.
You are young, bright students who have life in front of them. I am graying and aging. So, even if I live, I'll live for a few more years, and I'll anyway be down to ashes. So, you—you consume my body so that you can survive.
So, the entire narrative had two different parts—one where it appeared that the teacher is actually being cruel because he's eating all the stuff himself, and he is keeping the others on a very major diet. "You'll not eat anything." And then, one day, he says, "Fine, now you have learned to survive on nothing. Now you can eat me."
Who will call this entire interaction one of love? For us, love is roses and candies and choco boxes. "Your cheeks are so soft, and your—" This is love. Here is my flesh—eat it.
Jesus said, "My blood will be your wine. My flesh will be your bread." So that usefulness has to be remembered. It's a different way of looking at yourself, the other, and the relationship. And if you can learn this way, you'll go far.
Questioner: Thank you, sir.