Bhagavad Gita Overview Chapter 2

So we continue with the Bhagavad Gita discussion and we move to the second chapter of the Bhagavad Gita.
In the first chapter, broadly, Arjuna, after observing the armies on the battlefield, becomes overwhelmed, fighting manushya and confusion. He is torn apart between two duties: his duty as a kshatriya and his duty as a kurnandana. And he is thinking, “This is not even worth it. It is mere blood if it is at the cost of blood. I don’t want it.”
And in the first chapter, Krishna has spoken only once, “Udhvā chapārtha paśyaitān,” just see, you wanted to see, Arjuna—see the opposite, see Bhishma and Drona prominently over there.

So now the second chapter begins with Krishna speaking, and Krishna responds in the second verse.
So Krishna says, “Uttasva kaśmala minam,” from where has this kaśmala—kaśmala is this contamination—come upon you, this weakness come upon you? Uttasva kaśmala minam, viśame. Viśame means at a time of great challenge, at a time of great test.
So when the times become tough, as they say, “tough people get going.” At that time, your real character, your toughness is shown in tough times. So Krishna is saying, “How is it that when you need to be tough, you are becoming weak? From where has this weakness come upon you? Viśame saṁ upasthitam, saṁ upasthitam. It has come up, and not only upasthitam—it has come so forcefully, it has almost taken you over. Viśame saṁ upasthitam, viśame saṁ upasthitam.

So it’s subtle how Krishna is saying. Krishna is not saying, “You are weak.” Krishna is saying, “Where has this weakness come upon you from? This does not become you.” It’s a subtle way to help Arjuna distance himself from that weakness.
So if you say to somebody who is very heroic, “You are a coward, you are weak, you are a coward,” that would be a direct assault on that person. But you say to that person, “Where has this cowardice come upon you?” That is still an attack; it’s still a criticism, but you are reminding that person that you are not this. You are not like this.

Where has this bitterness come from? Like if somebody suddenly gets angry, is having a normal discussion, and suddenly that person starts yelling or starts expressing bitterness—”Where is this coming from?” “Where is this coming from?” means, “This is not you. This doesn’t seem to be coming from you; this seems to be coming from somewhere else.”

So now, why? What is wrong with it?
This is not worthy of an Arya. Arya is a person who knows the spiritual values of private robots [Note: this term seems unclear—possibly a typo]. Aswargyam, and this—this will bring you neither honor in this life nor an honorable destination in heaven in the next life.
Not only will it not bring honor, it will bring you dishonor, Arjuna. Therefore, don’t act in this way.

So, normally a discussion occurs if a person, if two people are discussing, so for the discussion to be meaningful, both people need to be discussing at the same level. Otherwise, there is a saying, “you talk past each other.” Talk past each other means what? One person is talking like this, and the other person is talking like this. So it’s almost as if what they are speaking is not directed towards the other person.

So two people are talking in different directions or at different levels. Talking past can also happen like this: if one person is talking at one level, another person is talking at another level. Both of these are examples of talking past. This is not talking fast; yes, you can talk fast also, but you talk past each other—the message doesn’t reach the other person.

So Arjuna is expressing concerns, and he’s saying that “Oh, I’ll destroy,” and Krishna is telling him, “You are caught in your head, all this, but what is the reality?” He said the reality is that if you are acting out of weakness—now what is Krishna doing over here? Krishna, in one sense, knows what is going on in Arjuna’s heart, but Krishna is echoing how the world is going to see his actions.

If suddenly a big war is about to happen and a soldier who has come there to fight suddenly wants to leave the battlefield and go away, then most people are not going to think that, “Oh, this soldier suddenly got an attack of conscience and decided, ‘I don’t want to fight.'” He got an attack, but that was an attack of power, not conscience. That’s what people are going to think.

So a soldier hesitating to fight—the general inference will be this: in war, there are two big crimes. One is to be a traitor. Traitor means you go to the battlefield and suddenly you fight for the opposite side, and that is the worst crime. But another crime, which is just nearly as bad, is to be a deserter. Deserter means you abandon—you don’t fight for the other side, but you don’t fight for your side also. You just give up.

And deserters can be court-martialed, they can face big prison sentences, they can even be shot. Because what happens? Everybody on the battlefield sooner or later feels fear, and if everybody, given that fear, starts going away, then there will be no one left to fight. And if soldiers on a battlefield cannot count on each other, then they cannot have a strategy; they cannot fight as a unit.

So to be able to count on each other, it is important that nobody eludes their boots, nobody is just vulnerable. So Arjuna—Krishna is saying here—will be seen as what? Will he be seen as a traitor? Will he be seen as a deserter? So Krishna is saying here: “Arjuna, this is how you will be seen.”

Soldiers’ *misdeeds—*so a soldier in the fight—is it because of conscience? Maybe it is, but the world’s conception will be: it is because of cowardice. So Krishna is echoing the world’s vision. He is saying, “Don’t act in such a cowardly way.”

Now when he speaks this, Arjuna becomes indignant. Indignant means that it is anger, but anger from injustice—that if we are misunderstood, if we are mistreated, then we feel angry.

Say, at night, maybe some guest has come to our place, and you know, they have been hungry, and they go to the kitchen and search for some food. And somebody comes and says, “You have no control over your senses! At night, you are stealing food? You are complaining? Such a big preacher!” Say, “I am not asking for myself, I am taking for someone else!”

It is like when we are misunderstood, we feel angry. So Arjuna feels angry over this. He says, “I am not resisting because of me. I am not hesitating because of weakness.” He says it is because of thoughtfulness. He says, “How is it reasonable, how is it honorable to fight against my teacher and my grandfather?”

Chakravarti commentator, he implies that Arjuna is telling Krishna, “It wouldn’t be easy for you to shoot arrows at your Guru Satyapani Muni. Wouldn’t it be easy for you to shoot arrows at your grandfather, who was saying?” He is seething with indignation, and that’s what he says: “Whatever we get will be contaminated by the blood. What is the use of it?”

So—but what happens is there is a strong emotion. So especially in verses 2.4 and 2.5, there is strong emotion—that is indignation. He feels, “I am being misunderstood.” He doesn’t want to be misunderstood, but then he still acknowledges that there is confusion.

He says, “What am I to do? If I fight, I am going to kill my relatives. If I don’t fight, then they will probably kill me. Even if I am ready to die, they are going to kill my relatives on this side. And if we just leave this world, we will have to live in poverty, we will have to live in infamy.”

So whatever I do, it all seems to be like a lose-lose-lose situation. Basically, Arjuna has three options over here:

1. Don’t fight and kill.
2. *Don’t fight and be killed—*not just he, but his family, likely his allies, his supporters also. Those whom he is meant to protect—they will all be killed.
3. Don’t fight and live in poverty.

You say, “That may be okay,” but you will have to live with infamy. Is that okay? And then not only that—there will still be fear because the Kauravas may keep doing wrong things again and again.

So all the options are—basically they are terrible options.

And Arjuna says that this is the situation. He says, “Even if I win the war, even if I get heaven, you don’t do any use for me. What is the point?” And that is the point when Arjuna turns to his wisdom and he asks, “I want to know what is dharma, what is the right thing?”

The Kauravas is that—whenever we do any action, there is some motivation for the action, and the motivations can be twofold: either it can be pleasure or it can be value. Value means meaning.

So, for example, we do a job because we get a lot of money out of it. Okay, that’s my money, I get some pleasure. But okay, I do a job—I do a job because I like the job. Of course, I want money, but I like the job. Or say, if we are doing something for some relative, we do it for that relative because we like that person, or we do it because it’s a duty to the relative.

So basically, we can have multiple motivations for doing something. Say, we may not like the job, but if it pays well, we do the job. The job may not pay well, but we may do the job if we like doing it.

Like some people—they get into some professions like teaching where the salary might not be as lucrative as in some software or some corporate jobs, but for them, it might be meaningful. So basically, when we do work, it would be best if it gives us some pleasure as well as some meaning.

Sometimes people say, “Okay, I’m just typing some codes, what is the value of it all? What is the meaning of it all?” Now imagine if we are doing a job which we neither like to do, nor does it pay well. “Why am I here at all?”

So Arjuna feels—Arjuna’s predicament is here. He feels that the kingdom—what is the value of the kingdom? Having that kingdom will give you no pleasure. And he says, “What is this terrible duty of a warrior where, because of this duty, I have to kill? I can’t do this.”

This is—sometimes things may not give us pleasure. But when I use the word meaning, we could also use the word value. But we understand that this is of some value, then we are ready to do it.

Like studies—we do not enjoy doing the studies, but we understand this is of value. It’s going to give me a bright career in the future. So we could say when we have the Gita, we talk about these themes repeatedly—that there is inside us our mind, which is driven by emotion. Emotion means it looks for pleasure. And then there is our intelligence, and our intelligence is driven by reason, logic.

So ideally, the best situation is where we are here: we are doing something which our mind finds pleasure in, and our intelligence sees value in. If we can have that, that is the best.

But this is the worst: “Why am I even here? What is the point of being here?”

Earlier, Arjuna has voiced this predicament. So Arjuna has said this in 1.30. Now he’s echoing this in 2.6.

He says, “Everything that I see ahead is going to be bad.”

And this is where—you know—all the options are bad. This leads to an existential crisis. Existential crisis means a person starts thinking, “Why am I even existing? What am I living for?”

So this is what Arjuna is feeling, and it is a very difficult situation to live in when one sees no way ahead. So there is no pleasure in this victory. There is no value in this victory.

And that time, Arjuna asks—so the word dharma, when it is used, has many meanings. But here Arjuna is using it in the sense of “the right thing to do.”

And when he’s asking for the right thing to do, it is in both senses: at one level, from a moral sense—what is the right thing? But also in the sense of *meaning—*what is the meaningful thing to do in life?

And for many young people in the Western world nowadays, this is a big existential crisis. Because many of the pleasures that people seek—people may seek the pleasure of wealth, people may seek the pleasure of sex.

Now, because the Western countries are relatively quite prosperous, people already have money. Kids are born—not everyone—but many of them are born with wealth.

And because literally the culture is a free, licentious culture—you know, by the time they are 17 or 20, every kind of sexual pleasure that a person can have—most people have already had.

And then people can keep trying to go from homosexuality to heterosexuality, bisexuality, this, that—all that. But most people become cheated.

And then, “After that, what is there to live for?”

It is—it’s nothing. Of course, you have to do a lot of hard work. Because even in the West, if you have to—you have to work hard.

But if you want to do something valuable in life, in the West, the definition of poverty is different from India.

So I was doing one program, and one person said, “I’m in great poverty right now.” But even then, people don’t directly say that they are in poverty. Instead, they say, “I’m in big financial trouble.” They don’t say, “I’m jobless.” Instead, they say, “I’m between jobs,” which is the polite way of putting it.

But this person explained, “I’m in such great financial difficulty that I have to live in my car.” Basically, he couldn’t afford a home, so he had to live in his car. Good people, people who were once stable, sometimes end up living in their cars.

The point here is that everyone needs something to look forward to in life. If materialism is all that you have to look forward to, then what happens when the material pleasures of the world have already been enjoyed?

You might try to find more attractive people to enjoy those pleasures with or chase new experiences, but ultimately, the pleasure remains the same. Sooner or later, people start realizing, “Is there nothing more to look forward to in life?” And that’s when people start seeking more and more distorted kinds of pleasures—just to find something. Somehow, they want to get pleasure from somewhere, but this is a terrible situation to be in—when there’s nothing to look forward to and everything ahead seems dark.

It is at that time that Krishna speaks.

When Krishna speaks, it is a study in contrast. A study in contrast means it’s a very striking comparison. On one side, it is described that Arjuna is in tears, and yet, Krishna is described as smiling.

Now, you know, if somebody comes to us in tears and we start smiling, or if we are in tears and go to someone, and they start smiling, we may wonder, “What kind of person are you? Are you a sadist? Are you enjoying my suffering?”

But actually, Krishna’s smile is not because He is laughing at Arjuna. Krishna is not mocking him. He is not saying, “Oh, you think you are such a great warrior, and now you are crying like this?” Not at all. Krishna’s smile is one of appreciation.

Appreciation in the sense that Krishna sees how dramatically the situation has changed. Three significant changes have happened:

1. The friend has become a student.
2. The charioteer will now become a counselor and a teacher.
3. The battlefield is going to become a classroom.

It is Krishna’s presence and His presentation that will raise Arjuna’s consciousness far beyond the battlefield.

You see, while Arjuna is overwhelmed by emotions, he is not simply looking for consolation. Arjuna, though emotional at this point, is actually seeking education.

For example, if somebody is very emotional—maybe they’ve lost someone or missed a significant opportunity—and they are crying, we may have to offer them consolation. We may say, “Things will be all right. Don’t worry. Ultimately, everyone is on their journey towards God.” We try to offer reassurance.

But Arjuna is not seeking consolation. Arjuna is asking a very specific question: “I want to know what is the right thing to do.”

When such a question arises, it depends on the context. Sometimes, a question is merely a way for someone to vent their emotions. For example, when someone asks, “Why is this happening to me?” they are not necessarily looking for an answer. They are upset, angry, and just expressing their frustration.

But Arjuna is not venting emotions. Though emotional, his question is genuine, relevant, and required.

At this point, Jiva Goswami explains—let’s examine what is happening here in Chapter 2. Born out of weakness, Arjuna’s hesitation comes from humane considerations. He asks, “How can I shoot my grandfather or my teacher in this fatal confrontation?” Arjuna is confused about his duty, torn asunder by emotions, and eventually decides to surrender to Krishna.

And amidst the armies, Krishna smiles. Smiling, Krishna begins His divine instruction—not just to free Arjuna, but to free the whole world from emotional entanglement and confusion.

This is where we have come till 2.10. Arjuna’s surrender marks a turning point.

Jiva Goswami, one of the prominent acharyas in our tradition and a highly analytical scholar, explains an important concept here. If you want to understand the purpose of a book, there are various ways to do so. However, one time-honored way is to look at the beginning and the end of the book—especially if it is a structured text.

For example, if a speaker is structured, they will say at the beginning, “Today, we will discuss this topic,” and at the end, they will summarize, “This is what we discussed.” Even if you miss the middle portion, you can understand the topic by looking at the start and the end.

Similarly, to understand the Bhagavad Gita, we can look at the start and the end of it.

The Bhagavad Gita—what does the word Bhagavad Gita literally mean?
It means “The Song of God.” The Gita is a poetic work that comes from God, presenting profound philosophical teachings in the form of poetry.

Now, is it Krishna who speaks throughout the Gita? No. There are three other characters who speak as well: Sanjay, Dhritarashtra, and Arjuna.

If that is the case, why is it called the Bhagavad Gita? The answer is that the words spoken by the other characters provide a broader context for Krishna’s teachings.

For example, suppose a traveling speaker is invited for a program. The program might have an emcee who makes announcements, a dignitary who introduces the speaker, and perhaps someone else who gives closing remarks. Although multiple people speak, the program is still considered the speaker’s program. Similarly, the words of others in the Gita—like Sanjay, Dhritarashtra, and Arjuna—provide the setting and context for Krishna’s teachings.

For instance, a dignitary may explain why the subject is important or highlight the speaker’s qualifications to establish credibility with the audience. This gives the broader context. However, the actual speech starts when the speaker begins speaking.

In the Bhagavad Gita, the actual instructive words of Krishna begin at 2.11 and continue until 18.66. Before this, Krishna’s words in 1.25 and 2.2–2.3 are more conversational. For instance, in 1.25, Krishna simply directs Arjuna to observe the battlefield. Similarly, in 2.2–2.3, Krishna asks Arjuna, “Where has this weakness come from?” These are introductory, conversational remarks.

Krishna’s actual teachings begin at 2.11, where He says:
“Those who are wise do not lament for the living or the dead.”
And they conclude at 18.66, where Krishna says:
“Do not grieve.”

If we look closely at Krishna’s first and last instructive words, we can see the clear purpose of the Gita.

• The first word: “Not worth lamenting.”
• The last word: “Do not lament.”

Thus, the purpose of the Bhagavad Gita is to free us from lamentation, grief, and fear.

Lamentation can arise for various reasons—fear of the future, loss of a loved one, pain, or distress. Krishna’s role is to console Arjuna and educate him so that he can rise above his emotions.

To illustrate, consider a patient who visits a doctor with a large swelling on their chest. The patient might panic and say, “I had a relative who had something similar. It was cancer, and they were at stage four. I’m going to die!”

The first thing the doctor says is, “Calm down. Do not fear. Do not lament.” Then, the doctor explains, “Yes, there’s a swelling, but it’s not cancer—it’s just a benign tumor. Don’t worry; it’s treatable.”

The doctor is not simply offering hollow reassurance. The doctor’s goal is not just to pacify but to educate the patient about their condition and the solution. Similarly, Krishna is not just consoling Arjuna by saying, “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.” Instead, He educates Arjuna to help him rise above his grief.

So, how does Krishna free Arjuna from lamentation?

In the previous chapter, Arjuna presented his arguments and his dilemma: “How can I fight and kill my relatives—especially Bhishma and Drona?”

Here, we can observe a strategy. When two opponents fight, there are two ways to attack:

1. Attack the opponent at their weakest point.
2. Attack the opponent at their strongest point.

Both are valid strategies, depending on the situation. For example, in cricket, if a batsman struggles with short-pitched balls, the bowler will bowl a bouncer to exploit that weakness and dismiss the batsman.

Similarly, Krishna addresses Arjuna’s predicament by tackling the core of his arguments—not his weakest points but his strongest ones. Arjuna is not an ordinary person with petty concerns. His concerns are based on moral, emotional, and spiritual reasoning. Krishna systematically addresses these concerns to elevate Arjuna’s understanding and free him from lamentation.

Thus, the Bhagavad Gita begins with Krishna telling Arjuna “Do not lament,” and it concludes with the same message: “Do not grieve.” The entire Gita is an education to help Arjuna—and all of us—overcome grief, fear, and confusion by understanding the deeper purpose of life.

You get one person out, you can get the second person out, but he says the other batsman—they star batsman, the strongest batsman—and you attack the strongest batsman. If you get the strongest batsman out, then everybody’s morale will collapse. So, in war, both of these strategies can be used. Sometimes you attack the opponent at the weakest point, and sometimes you attack the opponent at the strongest point.

Now, if the person who is attacking is confident, then they will attack at the strongest point. If they are not very sure whether they can win or not, then they will try to attack at the weakest point. So now, Krishna will challenge Arjuna’s argument at its strongest point.

What Krishna does is Krishna challenges Arjuna’s strongest argument. And what is the strongest argument? He says, “How can I kill Bhishma and Drona?” All the other conceptions are there—that this team will be destroyed, the future will be dark, I may go to hell—and all those things have been overcome to a degree. But what is causing Arjuna the greatest agony is, “How can you kill Bhishma and Drona?”

So what Krishna says is that you don’t want to kill them because they are souls—they are eternal beings. That’s why the first thing Krishna says, after “Till you are not…”, is:
“Neither you, nor me, nor any of these kings over here will ever cease to exist.”

So that is Krishna telling Arjuna that what he is thinking of lamenting is not worth lamenting. The body is basically like a dress—it’s like clothes. And when some clothes become torn, what happens is we get new clothes. So Bhishma and Drona are going to get new clothes, and they have lived virtuously, so they’ll get better clothes in the future. So what is there to lament for?

Krishna speaks philosophy not just because He likes to speak philosophy. He is speaking philosophy because He is addressing Arjuna’s specific concerns. He’s saying that if you’re wise, a wise person will not get disturbed. Since death is unavoidable, anyone who is born is going to die, and what is there to lament about?

This point about the existence of the soul—see, when Krishna talks about the soul, He does three things:

1. He first talks about the existence of the soul. That means He says, “Inside the body, there is a soul.”
2. After talking about the existence of the soul, He talks about its resilience. Resilience means the capacity to not be destroyed. Something that is resilient means you knock it down, but it will not be destroyed—it will bounce back. That’s resilience.

So the resilience of the soul means that the soul exists, it is eternal, but it is also indestructible. That’s why He says:
“Weapons may cut the body, but they won’t cut the soul. Fire may burn the body, but it won’t burn the soul.”

Arjuna, you’re thinking there are many weapons that you may have to use for fighting, but none of those will affect the soul.

But then the question might come up: “Okay, even if I agree, isn’t this soul idea something Arjuna already knows?”

It’s not that the idea of the soul is unheard of for Arjuna. Arjuna has lived in a culture where the understanding of the soul is there to some extent. But the Gita does something more about the soul.

See, in Chapter 1, verse 44, Arjuna himself says that those who destroy the dynasty will go to hell. And that means—now who is going to go to hell? It’s not the body that will go. In one sense, the soul is going to go to hell, isn’t it?

So, in one sense, if you say somebody is going to go to hell, does Arjuna know about the soul? Well, he does. He knows about the soul, but Krishna’s emphasis is something different.

Especially from 2.16 to 2.25, you see that people can have the idea that there’s the body and there’s the soul. That is a widespread idea. But many people live at the level of karmakāṇḍa.

What does karmakāṇḍa mean? It means religiosity. They are religious, but it is materialistic religiosity. It’s not spiritually religious.

Materialistic religiosity means what? Like somebody—they may worship God very nicely, but their worshipping of God is not for God’s sake. It is for their own material well-being’s sake.

Many years ago, when I first came here to RMSC, I saw a Hanumanji temple. Someone said: “You are a brahmachari, so you don’t need any movement. Give me one movement, please!” Like that. So, the idea is—this is materialistic religiosity.

Now, within this, what happens is—quite often—the idea is: “I am the body, and I have a soul.” So, there is some small part of religion that survives after death.

In the Christian tradition, for example, they have the idea that there is some kind of soul which exists. But then, if you see their idea of heaven—heaven is like a perpetual family reunion. It’s like you will meet your grandfather, you’ll meet your cousin who died when you were small, you’ll meet this person, and you’ll meet that person. And all of them will have the same body as when you knew them.

So, it’s like this: there are two ideas. There is:

1. Reincarnation – It means to come again in flesh, to be born again, but with a different body.
2. Resurrection – In Christianity, the idea is resurrection, where Christ was resurrected. Resurrection means the same body.

Reincarnation is clearly a different one.

So what happens is, some people may accept the idea of a soul, but their idea of the selfhood or personhood may be very materialistic. That is one reason why they say the body has to be cremated because their idea is that the same body will be resurrected by God. Now, of course, even if they cremate the body—you know what “cremate” means, right? Okay—so, in their tradition, the body is not cremated; the body is buried. In our tradition, the body is cremated. Cremated means it’s burnt.

The body is buried because they say the body will be restored. Now, of course, even if you put it in a nice, expensive coffin and bury it, still, it’s going to be broken down in a short while. But their idea is that the same body will be restored ultimately.

Now, of course, this leads to some practical problems. For example, somebody dies at the age of 75, and their body is buried at the age of 75. Will they be in heaven eternally at the age of 75? Okay, but what if a baby dies at six months? The baby never had a full body, so which body would they have? And then the further problem that comes up is this:

In heaven, all the relationships from this world are said to be restored. So, if a man and a woman get married and the woman dies, and then the man remarries, in heaven, he will be with which wife? And if two wives in heaven have to share the same man, would that be heavenly for them? Isn’t it?

This is one reason why the Catholic Church, especially, is strongly against divorce. Because apart from sociological problems, they have theological problems with it.

So, this idea of, “I am the body, and I have a soul,”—although the idea of the soul is present in many traditions, everyone’s idea of the soul is not the same. People have very different ideas about the soul. Thomas Aquinas, a prominent theologian of the Christian tradition, had this idea that while the soul and the body are different, still, they cannot be completely separated; they are inseparable.

Now, in our tradition, when the Britishers first came to India and saw the bodies being cremated, there are reports of them saying, “How heartless are these Indians! The same person you loved, you actually watch so passively as that body is burnt. Do you have any sense of affection, any sense of decency? How do you just set the body aflame like that?”

But the point of burning the body is to bring closure—primarily for the soul. It is said the soul may often hover around the body because the soul has lived in that body, and the soul is quite attached to the body. The soul is still hoping, “Maybe I can re-enter this world,” even though the body is now completely incapable of functioning.

But when the body is burnt, the soul hovering around sees, “This is gone; this is finished.” The soul becomes anxious—“There is no way I can re-enter this body.” Then, the soul gets closure and reluctantly becomes ready to move ahead.

Similarly, for the survivors—because what happens is that people can remain emotionally fixated: “Oh, this person was so wonderful. Why did I lose this person?” But the fact is, everyone has to die. And if we are going to get attached to the body, the description of the body is that it is going to be reduced to ashes.

There is a form of meditation where people go to the Manikarnika Ghat, and some yogis sit and watch the body burn. Now, that is not the most pleasant form of meditation, but the idea is that it gives a sense of detachment: “This is the body.”

But the point is—the body and the soul are different, and this understanding is meant to bring peace. The body may be destroyed, and it will be destroyed, but the soul will not be destroyed.

You will see this theme again and again—the same idea of “mā śucah” (do not lament). Krishna emphasizes this point repeatedly. From verses 2.12 to 2.30, Krishna speaks about the spiritual identity of the person.

For example, the 25th verse says: “The soul is indestructible; no weapon can cut it, no fire can burn it.”

Now, sometimes the same word is used for emphasis, but sometimes synonyms are used to emphasize the point. The last line of this section is:

“It does not behoove you to lament.”

Now, of course, philosophy can be studied and used for whatever purpose one wants. Somebody sent me a few months ago a clip from a Bollywood movie where it was like a vendetta film. Vendetta means revenge—taking revenge against criminals and injustices. There are corrupt politicians and corrupt police officers, and some hero decides, “They’re all corrupt. I’m going to destroy all of them one by one.”

In the movie, the hero goes and kills each of them in cold blood. And each time he kills someone, he recites a line from the Gita, “The soul is eternal; the body will perish.”

Now, that is the misuse of the Gita. See, although the Gita says, “We are the souls, and we are not the body,” that does not mean it gives a license to kill. If that were the message of the Gita—that since the soul will not die, you can kill anyone—then the Gita itself would be contradictory.

The first point Arjuna raises is: “How can I kill Bhishma and Drona?” Krishna tells Arjuna, “Okay, let us discuss what the right thing to do is.” One by one, the different arguments are addressed.

Krishna says, “If you understand that the soul is eternal, that means they are not going to die. So killing them is not as disastrous as you think because they are souls.”

But just because they are eternal souls does not mean killing them is right. The question is: What is the right thing to do?

Krishna addresses this by saying:

“If you are killed, you will attain heaven. If you win, you will enjoy the earth.”

For Arjuna, Krishna says, “Your determination has become weak. Strengthen your determination and fight!”

Krishna is serving Arjuna by telling him:

“The death of your loved ones, O Partha, will not mean their destruction. They will get better bodily clothes and move toward liberation. Seeing yourself only as their relative reduces you to just one role. You are capable of playing many roles. In this moment, you are a warrior. You are also an eternal soul. Why, O Arjuna, do you hesitate to fight? In victory or defeat, you will be right. If victorious, you will rule the world with no opposition. If you lose, you will rise to power in the next life, free from lamentation.”

Krishna emphasizes that Arjuna is going wrong by focusing on winning or losing. Krishna tells Arjuna that either way, he will gain.