The story of Vishvamitra – Obstacles on the spiritual path – Part 1

A story from the Ramayana that reflects the challenges and the growth we experience on our spiritual journey is the story of the great sage Vishwamitra.

The Ramayana is primarily the journey of Lord Ram, but it also includes stories that describe how various characters in the Ramayana reached the positions they were in. I’ll divide this story into three parts. First, we’ll look at the obstacles we face on our spiritual path and how we can overcome them.

Vishwamitra was originally King Kaushika, the ruler of the Kusha kingdom. He was a Chandramamshi, belonging to the lunar dynasty, while Lord Ram was a Suryamamshi, belonging to the solar dynasty.

In any society, certain authorities are required, and in ancient India, within a dharmic society, there were two primary centers of power: the Kshatriyas and the Brahmanas. The Kshatriyas were the political leaders, and the Brahmanas held spiritual and intellectual authority. This setup mirrors today’s systems of government, where we have the separation of powers between the legislature, the executive, and the judiciary.

Just as these divisions ensure checks and balances, the separation between political and spiritual power was meant to prevent corruption. Power, as they say, corrupts, and absolute power can corrupt absolutely. While it’s easy to criticize politicians, it’s important to remember that most of us, if we were in positions of power, might be equally susceptible to abusing it.

Vishwamitra was a powerful king, but like anyone in a position of power, he began to feel insecure. He feared that someone might challenge his authority. One day, he was passing through a forest and came upon a hermitage where the great sage Vasishta resided. Vasishta was a very powerful sage, and he welcomed Vishwamitra warmly, offering him food and hospitality.

Vishwamitra, impressed by Vasishta’s hospitality, noticed that Vasishta’s hermitage was modest, yet he seemed to have everything he needed. Vasishta explained that he had a divine cow named Kamadhenu, a miraculous cow that could grant any wish. When Vishwamitra expressed his amazement, Vasishta explained that the cow could provide everything necessary for the sage’s rituals and sacrifices, including grains, ghee, and food.

Seeing the cow’s power, Vishwamitra, who had an entitlement mentality due to his royal status, became greedy. He demanded that Vasishta give him the cow. Vasishta refused, explaining that the cow was essential to his sacrifices. But Vishwamitra insisted, feeling entitled as a king. When Vasishta stood his ground, Vishwamitra grabbed the cow.

As soon as he did, the cow began to cry out in distress and, to Vishwamitra’s astonishment, started producing soldiers who battled and defeated Vishwamitra’s army. In the face of defeat, Vishwamitra had to flee in humiliation.

But instead of learning from the experience, Vishwamitra returned, more determined than ever. He came back with an even larger army, but this time, Vasishta, in his frustration, invoked a curse. Vishwamitra again suffered defeat and humiliation.

What is important to understand here is not the magical elements of the story, such as the cow granting wishes or the curse, but the deeper lesson. The focus of the scriptures is not always on proving the literal events; rather, they aim to inspire us to improve and grow spiritually. In today’s world, we might not believe in talking cows or curses, but we can appreciate the lessons they offer.

For example, in our modern context, we have technology that can seem almost magical. We might say, “Okay, Google, open the door,” and the door opens. Someone unfamiliar with technology might question how that happened. Similarly, in ancient times, events may have appeared magical, but the purpose of such stories is to convey spiritual truths, to guide us on our path, and help us understand the deeper meaning of life and our journey toward self-realization.

No, no, don’t send this message.

So, what happens in this case is what we can call a performative utterance. When we speak, if there is no technology or device around us, our words may not lead to any immediate action. However, in certain cases, the words we speak can have a direct impact. For example, if a judge sentences someone to ten years in prison, that utterance leads to action because the judge holds a position of authority and power.

The connection between the utterance and the action may not be immediately clear to us if we don’t understand how the judicial system or technology works, but the point is that an utterance can lead to a performance. When this happens, it’s called a performative utterance.

So, when something seems unbelievable, it simply means we don’t understand the mechanism behind how it happens. Sages, for example, could connect with higher powers in the universe. When they spoke or gave blessings or curses, their words would activate subtler energies in the universe, leading to actual events.

In this case, Vasishta twice overpowered King Kaushika (Vishwamitra). After this, Kaushika realized that the Brahmanas were much more powerful than the Kshatriyas. Vasishta was a Brahma Rishi, the highest among the sages, and Kaushika decided he wanted to become one too. He wanted to become great and powerful.

Ultimately, everything we do, if it is not spiritually oriented, is a search for power. Even for an infant, it’s a discovery to realize the power of crying. Initially, the infant cries due to discomfort, but over time, it learns that crying will bring the mother running. Eventually, the infant might cry just for attention, even when it’s not in distress. From infancy, we’re all driven by a desire for power.

Seeking power itself isn’t inherently bad; the important thing is the purpose for which we seek it. We all need some power in life. In Kaushika’s case, he sought power so he could become more powerful than others. He wondered, how did Vasishta become a Brahma Rishi? Vasishta had become a great sage, so Kaushika thought, “If I can become like him, I’ll have the power I desire.”

Kaushika realized that to become a Brahma Rishi, he had to perform austerities (Tapasya). Austerity is an interesting concept. All living beings are driven by their immediate needs. A cat, for instance, doesn’t think, “Today is Ekadashi, let me fast.” The cat is driven by its instincts, reacting to impulses. Similarly, we too have impulses, but as humans, we have the capacity to resist them.

For example, on Ekadashi, we may decide not to eat grains. If we see a plate of delicious food with grains, the impulse to eat might arise. However, we can resist that impulse. The ability to resist our impulses is what differentiates humans from animals. The question is, how well developed is our ability to resist, and for what purpose are we resisting?

If we resist impulses to grow spiritually, that’s beneficial. But if we do so simply to show others how self-controlled we are, it might not lead to spiritual growth. For instance, someone fasting on Ekadashi might criticize others who are eating, thinking they lack self-control. Though the person is fasting, their ego is feeding on the pride of their self-discipline. This is not helpful for spiritual growth.

Now, Kaushika’s reason for fasting and performing austerities was to become more powerful. His goal was to best Vasishta. Austerity, in general, is something that anyone striving to achieve something worthwhile must practice. Athletes, for example, perform their own form of austerity by working out. Austerity is about sacrificing immediate pleasure for future gain.

Humans have the ability to trade the pleasure of the present moment for something better in the future, something that animals cannot consciously do. While animals may instinctively prepare for the future (like burrowing to stay warm), humans can consciously plan and negotiate with reality. As students, for instance, we might sacrifice leisure to study and build a career.

I can enjoy, but I want to create a good life for myself in the future.
So, the capacity to sacrifice, to practice austerity, is what defines humanity. In fact, if you look at any person who inspires us in life, it is often their capacity for austerity and commitment that stands out. In any field, if you want to be successful, you must, to some extent, trade the present for the future.

We all desire pleasure in life, but pleasure comes in many forms. However, pleasure is often too shallow a purpose to sustain us through life. Most of us enjoy humor. Is there anyone who doesn’t like jokes or laughter? It’s rare to find someone who doesn’t. But consider this: if we had no financial obligations or responsibilities, and someone told us, “For the rest of your life, just watch comedies and laugh,” would you enjoy that?

Maybe for an hour or two, yes, but after that, you’d likely feel the need to do something more meaningful, right? So, while we all want pleasure, we don’t just want any pleasure; we want worthwhile, meaningful pleasure. Watching comedies and laughing is not a very meaningful pleasure in the grand scheme of life.

Sometimes, to experience meaningful pleasure, we might have to give up what gives us immediate pleasure. Pleasure, in this case, is too cheap a purpose to sustain us. We will eventually get frustrated with it. If we do something just for immediate pleasure, we often find ourselves in trouble, as with addiction. People who drink, smoke, or take drugs do so for short-term pleasure, but it leads them into problems.

Pleasure is too cheap a purpose. Vishwamitra realized that if he wanted to become a Brahmarishi, he needed to perform austerities. As a Kshatriya (a king), he already had determination. Some people claim they lack determination. Do you think it’s possible for someone to have zero determination?

No, it’s not. Why not? Even someone who is addicted to a substance demonstrates determination. They may lack the willpower to stop, but they have determination to keep indulging in their addiction. If someone fails to wake up early, they lack the determination to rise, but they have the determination to keep sleeping. People may mock them or criticize them, yet they continue. So, everyone has determination; it’s just often misdirected.

Determination means continuing to do something, even if it’s troublesome. The positive side of determination helps us persevere, while the negative side, like obstinacy or stubbornness, leads us to persist in harmful behaviors.

As a Kshatriya, Vishwamitra certainly had determination, and he began performing austerities. His austerity gained him immense power. This power made others, especially Indra, insecure. Indra, the king of the gods, was always fearful of someone usurping his position.

Austerity essentially means giving up immediate pleasures for a higher purpose. In any field, consistent, diligent practice leads to power. By doing something regularly and trying to improve, we gain expertise. With talent and practice, some individuals become extraordinarily powerful, like athletes or gymnasts who can perform feats most people couldn’t even imagine.

If we want to improve in any area, we need to commit ourselves to consistent practice and austerity. The more we commit, the better we become at it. But with power comes the potential for others to feel insecure and try to take it away.

When Indra saw Vishwamitra performing austerities, he sent Menaka, a celestial nymph, to distract him. Menaka was extraordinarily beautiful and used her powers to transform the place where Vishwamitra was meditating into a beautiful garden, complete with flowers, a lake, birds, and a soothing breeze. She began to dance and sing.

When Vishwamitra heard the sound of her ankle bells, he became distracted. For us, it might not be ankle bells that distract us, but rather our mobile phone notifications. A small beep is enough to disrupt our concentration. Imagine you are trying to focus on something important, whether it’s a lecture or meditation, and suddenly, you hear that beep.

Distraction, in any form, disempowers us. Our most fundamental power is our consciousness. If we remain focused on a task, we perform better. But if we are distracted, we lose our power. When we are focused, we can read a page in a few minutes and fully understand it. If we are distracted, it might take us an hour to understand the same page, and we might even find ourselves holding the book upside down.

To be distracted is to be disempowered. Our consciousness is our greatest strength, and it is essential to maintain focus. In today’s world, distractions come in many forms. Let me explain distraction using two metaphors.

The first metaphor is a road. Imagine we are on a road and come to an intersection. There are multiple options, multiple ways to go. We might pause to decide which way to take. Similarly, distractions are like multiple options that demand our attention. We must choose wisely.

The second metaphor is that of a river. When a river splits into different distributaries, the water flows toward the path that is easiest, like the downhill path. In the same way, distractions in life pull our attention toward the easiest, most tempting options, and it’s up to us to choose which path to take.

So, just like that, for all of us, our consciousness is like a river that is constantly flowing.
When we are attached to particular objects, that means those objects have a broad, downhill path, and our consciousness will naturally flow in that direction.

For example, let’s say someone is an alcoholic, and their home is here, their workplace is there, but there’s a bar in between.
Now, someone who has never drunk might not even notice the bar, but for someone who drinks regularly, passing by that bar triggers a desire.
They might think, “I have a lot of work to do,” but then the temptation comes, and they think, “What difference does one drink make?”
Even if they try to resist, their mind might argue: “No, last time you had one drink and it turned into more than you planned. Shouldn’t you stop now?”
But eventually, their consciousness has already moved toward that bar. Even if they don’t physically go in, the mental pull is strong.

To be distracted is to be disempowered. Some distractions are passive, just waiting outside for us to choose them, while others are more active, luring us in.
In this case, when Menaka came to Vishwamitra, she was an active distraction.
It’s important to note that this is not about a male being distracted by a female; both males and females experience distractions in various forms.

When Vishwamitra opened his eyes and saw Menaka, he had come to the forest to perform austerities, yet he was captivated by her beauty. He was so drawn to her that he lost his focus and forgot about his meditation.
This is the nature of temptation—it grips our consciousness and makes us forget everything else.

The Bhagavad Gita says we are meant to give up everything else and surrender to Krishna:
Sarva dharman parityajya mam ekam sharanam vraja
(“Abandon all varieties of dharma and surrender to me alone”).
But when temptation comes, we often forget everything else and are drawn into it. That is the nature of temptation.

Vishwamitra had left his royal pleasures for a higher purpose. However, when temptation came, he got so caught up in it that he forgot his original purpose.
This is something we all face. Initially, when we come to spirituality, we may not be truly interested in God or spiritual goals. Many come to spirituality seeking peace of mind, self-control, or personal growth. This is not bad—at least they are coming to spirituality for some purpose.

In our life journey, temptations arise constantly, and there is no guarantee that we will resist them at any given moment.
Everything comes down to choices and circumstances. While our choices are ultimately up to us, circumstances significantly influence our decisions.

When Vishwamitra got distracted, he completely forgot his austerities and purpose. This story is told in the Ramayana, but something more is shared in the Mahabharata.
Vishwamitra, known as Kaushika until then, became completely captivated by Menaka. He was so infatuated that he lost all focus.

This is how we also get captivated today. When we become infatuated with something, it completely pulls us in.
For example, at a very advanced American university, which specializes in AI, they’ve developed a sophisticated technology. Normally, if we’re watching a YouTube video, related video suggestions appear on the screen. We can choose to click on them.

However, this new technology tracks where your eyes are looking. If you glance at another video for even a few seconds, that video will automatically start playing.
The experiment revealed that people watching videos this way end up spending three, five, or even six hours in front of the screen. It is as if you are being pulled into the next distraction without even having to click anything.

In the same way, technology can provide many temptations, but our mind itself can present distractions as well.
As these distractions grow and grow, we can become completely overwhelmed.

Vishwamitra, after uniting with Menaka, had a daughter named Shakuntala, whose story is quite illustrious. She eventually became the mother of the Bharata dynasty.
But the main point here is that Vishwamitra got distracted. Once he realized this, he turned away from Menaka.

Most pleasures in life promise a lot, but in the end, they often lead to disappointment. They seem to offer endless fulfillment, but they fall short.
Vishwamitra realized this and, feeling regret, sent Menaka away. She, too, confessed to him that she had been sent by Indra to distract him. Vishwamitra felt upset by her actions and cursed her, saying, “You will never be with me again.”

Then, he returned to his austerities.
Now, in our spiritual journeys, we face similar obstacles. Our minds go through binary responses—desire and anger.
Desire arises when we want something, and anger follows when we don’t get what we want.

In Vishwamitra’s case, the first obstacle he faced was desire. Desire distracted him, and the same happens to us. We might say, “I want to study,” but then we find ourselves distracted by our phones or other things.

Then I get distracted, and then they get distracted.
Sometimes, especially in India, when the Cricket World Cup comes, passions run high. I remember in 2000, during a particular World Cup where India performed poorly, something remarkable happened. It was about 10–15 years ago, and a world record was set when around 5000 TV sets were smashed by angry people in just one hour.
People were so upset that India lost the match, they smashed their TV sets. It wasn’t just one or two TVs—it was widespread.

At that time, India was not as affluent as it is now. Due to liberalization and economic growth, some people in India are well-to-do, but back then, it was quite different.
However, the other side of desire is anger. We often get what we think we want, but it’s not truly fulfilling, and this leads to frustration.

Desire is one side of the coin, while anger is the other. So, how did Vishwamitra fall prey to anger? How did he succumb to it, and how did he eventually overcome it?
Then, there’s how he was tempted by pride and tried to disrupt the universal order because of his arrogance—and how he overcame that too. After all this, he attained spiritual perfection. I’ll discuss these topics in tomorrow’s class.

To summarize today’s lesson, I spoke about how to focus on our spiritual journey using the story of Vishwamitra.
In Vedic society, there is a balance of power between the Kshatriyas and the Brahmanas—martial and political power alongside spiritual and intellectual power.
Whenever we hold power, there is a tendency to seek more and more. Kaushika (Vishwamitra) was a powerful king, but he wanted the power that Vasishta had, symbolized by the Kamadhenu cow. His attempt to seize that power backfired, leading to defeat. After trying again and failing, he realized that his Kshatriya might alone couldn’t help him achieve his goal, so he decided to become a Brahmana.

I discussed the concept of Brahmanical curses and blessings—these are performative utterances. Just like a judge can pronounce a sentence, or technology can be activated by certain actions, these utterances lead to actions in subtle ways. Vishwamitra wanted the power that the Brahmanas had, so he began performing austerities.
Austerity means negotiating with reality, giving up present pleasures for something greater in the future. All living beings are driven by impulses, but humans have the unique ability to resist these impulses and aim for something higher. The extent to which we do this is what shapes our humanity.

However, resisting impulses is not the goal in itself. If we resist only to appear self-controlled, it’s counterproductive because we become proud. We must resist impulses to persevere in a higher purpose. Vishwamitra’s original motive was the desire for power.
Indra, feeling insecure about Vishwamitra’s growing strength, sent Menaka to distract him.

To be distracted is to be disempowered. We all desire various forms of power, but our most fundamental power is our consciousness. And in today’s world, our consciousness is pulled in a million different directions.
There are two kinds of distractions: passive distractions, like pathways at an intersection, and active distractions, which allure us.
If we repeatedly indulge in something and become attached to it, our consciousness will naturally flow in that direction, like a river following a broad, downhill path.

Thus, we need to stay focused and purposeful. Vishwamitra, too, got distracted and experienced pleasure, but that pleasure turned out to be an anticlimax.
This is what happens with most pleasures in life—they promise a lot but often deliver very little. We talked earlier about how we all seek pleasure, but what we truly want is meaningful pleasure. Pleasure alone is too trivial to give our lives true purpose.
Nobody would enjoy watching comedies forever. We need the kind of pleasure that comes from doing something meaningful in our lives.

On the spiritual path, desire is often the first distraction we encounter. If we overcome desire, anger often follows, and then pride. I’ll discuss anger and pride in tomorrow’s class.
Any questions or comments?

At what stage did Vishwamitra request King Dasharatha to send Rama?
That happened much later in his life, after he had become a great sage and a devotee. Vishwamitra was performing sacrifices and was inspired by the Lord to seek Rama’s help for an important task.

Thank you. Any other questions?

Regarding the question of whether anger and depression are twins—
They’re not exactly twins, but they are closely related. Depression can be seen as anger directed inward.
Anger directed toward others often leads to aggression, but when directed at oneself, it becomes depression.
Depression often stems from the belief that we are not good enough. We may be in a reasonably good situation, but the mind keeps repeating the thought, “I’m not good enough.”
This thought can apply to many aspects of our lives—relationships, health, appearance, income, and even our spiritual progress.
These thoughts make us feel inadequate, and that is a core cause of depression.

It takes courage to accept our weaknesses, but there is another kind of courage needed—to accept ourselves as we are, even with those weaknesses.
If we don’t accept ourselves, we lose our most fundamental resource: ourselves. Even when seeking shelter in God, it is ultimately we who must take refuge in Him.

Some people are so arrogant that they refuse to accept their weaknesses. I remember a person I counseled who had serious anger issues. When I spoke with them, they said, “I don’t need anger management. Other people just need to stop making me angry.”
This person was outsourcing responsibility for their anger. It’s important to recognize our weaknesses, acknowledge them, and have the courage to improve.
If we don’t accept our flaws, we cannot improve or grow. Depression, in that sense, is often the anger we feel directed toward ourselves.

Why am I like this? Why can’t I do this? Why can’t I do that? Why couldn’t I achieve it? Why did I make that mistake? Why? Why? Why?
The anger directed outward becomes depression when turned inward. Depression is a complex phenomenon, but in broad terms, we don’t see as many people in the past getting depressed as we do now. Why is this happening more today? There are many reasons, but one broad understanding is that we all have unrealistic expectations.
The world around us is structured in such a way that everyone is made to believe they can be controllers, achievers—they are meant to be. However, there are many things that are simply beyond our control.
Failure is something that can happen despite our best efforts. Only our endeavors are in our control, but the results are not. This is the essence of karma, where Krishna says, “Do your duty, but don’t be attached to the results.” What He means is that we don’t solely determine the results.
However, in today’s world, society has removed the understanding that there are higher forces influencing the results. I have an entire talk on the relationship between actions and results, which you could call the “4D formula”:
Duty + Destiny + Duration = Desired Result.
In Sanskrit, we can express this as karma, daiva, and kala leading to phala (result).
These three elements—duty, destiny, and duration—must come together for the desired result.
For example, when a couple gets married and hopes to have a child, their union alone is not enough. Conception must happen, and that’s not in their control—it’s destiny. Similarly, a farmer may plow the field and sow the seeds, but rain is necessary, and that’s also destiny. Even after rain comes, time must pass for the crop to grow—duration is also a key factor in bringing about the result.

What has happened in today’s world is that we often believe, if we do our part, the other factors don’t matter. If I’ve done my duty, I should get the result. When results don’t come, we start thinking something must be intrinsically wrong with us.
Yes, sometimes we go through a rough patch in life. Destiny can be unfavorable, and no matter how much we try, we don’t get the results we expect. We try one thing, and it doesn’t work. We try another, and that fails too. We might think, “My life is doomed.” But that’s not the case.
When we look back at the times we’ve been successful, we’ll realize that many things worked out beyond our own efforts. Of course, we worked hard and did our best, but other factors contributed too.
To the extent we claim credit for our success, we must also accept responsibility for our failures.
If we have a broader understanding of life—that results don’t solely depend on us—we can accept when bad things happen. We can understand that we’re going through a bad phase, and it will pass.
Failure is an event in life, but it doesn’t define who we are. People are not failures; they sometimes meet failure. When we take life’s events too personally, that’s when depression sets in.

Having a broader philosophical understanding can help. When you understand that you’re going through a dark phase, you realize it will pass. But when we’re depressed, we tend to take small events and attribute far too much meaning to them.
For instance, one of my friends is a suicide intervention counselor. He shared a story about a girl who tried to commit suicide after a phone call went unanswered. She called the boy, but he didn’t pick up.
Is not picking up a phone a reason to end your life? She didn’t see it that way. She thought, “He doesn’t care about me, maybe he’s with someone else. Maybe no one will love me. All my friends will have happy relationships, and I’ll be alone, pitied by everyone. Better to die than live such a pitiable life.” And she attempted suicide.
This illustrates what happens when we take one incident and extrapolate far too much from it. Depression grows when we ascribe overwhelming meaning to a small event.

When we keep perspective—recognizing that small things are just that—small things, we can avoid spiraling into depression. Yes, sometimes things go wrong because of factors beyond our control, but we need to understand how important or unimportant certain things really are.
When the mind is in control and intelligence is not, small things can blow up in our minds. One small failure leads to another, and before we know it, we think our whole life is a failure.
But life is not doomed. It’s not the life that’s the problem—it’s the perspective. Understanding the principles of karma and destiny helps us realize that we’re just passing through a phase. It’s a tunnel, not a dungeon. We must keep walking forward, and we will come into the light.

Thank you. Any other questions?

I hope this explanation didn’t add to anyone’s depression. 🙂
Do you have any other questions?

Okay. So, thank you very much.