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Monday, September 28, 2015

Love and Death

नारायणं नमस्कृत्य नरं चैव नरोत्तमम्


 देवीं सरस्वतीं चैव ततो जयम् उदीरयेत्


महाभरत
Mahābharata
As retold by
Michael Dolan, B.V. Mahāyogi


Story of Savitri: Part Two







And so it was that King Ashwapati on an auspicious day set forth with his daughter to make the nuptial arrangements. He gathered the brahmanas, the wise men and sages of the court and went with his daughter into the sacred forest. And after some time on foot they arrived at the ashrama of Dyumatsena,  the old blind king.

Finally they saw a great Banyan tree  whose branches stretched to the sky. And beneath the canopy of leafy branches at the foot of that tree sat the blind  King  in meditation on a mat made of kusha straw.  The old man could hear footsteps although he could see no one. And folding his hands in reverence,  he said, “Who’s there?  What brings you to this part of the forest? You are welcome here in this ashram. Satyavan,” he said, calling for his son,  “Bring our guests sitting places and water.” 


Savitri could see the blind king’s son,  the handsome prince, as he offered sitting places and water to all. He was indeed a fine man.
“My hospitality is humble,” said the old blind king. “But please make yourself at home. How can I serve you?”
And King Ashwapati  replied, “Your hospitality is more than sufficient. We come in peace on a noble mission.”  And bowing low, he said “Accept my humble obeisances.”
Dyumatsena the blind said, “I can tell from your accent that you are noble. Please tell me the purpose of your visit. Ask anything, and I shall surely grant it if I can.”
  As she spoke to Dyumatsena, Ashwapati looked at Satyavan, who attended his father, “This my daughter, Savitri,” he said.  “It is my wish that you accept  her as wife  to your son. The old blind King said, “you are indeed noble, but how can we accept such an offer? Here we have no Royal Palace. We live humbly. These trees are  our only shelter.  We have been forced from our throne.   We sit on mats of straw, not silk cushions.   We wear humble garments.  How could we make a proper home for such a fine lady? The  forest is a place of hardship, of simple living and high thinking. How could she dwell here with us?”
King Ashwapati replied, “My daughter is wiser than she appears.  She knows that both happiness and sorrow are temporary; they come and go in the course of our human existence. You were once a great King who lived in luxury and are now living simply with only the trees and the stars for a roof.  Wealth and poverty come and go; my daughter has no interest in material things. And as she is noble minded she will make a fine match for your son Satyavan, who is dedicated to seeking the truth and living simply.”
 Ashwapati said, “Therefore  please accept Satyavati  as your daughter-in-law and as the wife of your son Satyavan.”
 And Dyumatsena said,  “To tell you the truth, I had always thought that your daughter would make a fine match for my son.  But I hesitated, thinking of my lowly station, now that I have been deprived of my kingdom.  Now that you come to me and friendship I can see that my wish  shall be fulfilled. If Satyavan will your daughter,  then let them be joined in matrimony.  And let us be friends.”
And so it was those priests gathered there in the forest bound the royal houses of Dyumatsena and Ashwapati  in matrimony.  The union of Satyavati and Satyavan was  celebrated with the ritual fire sacrifice,  and the appropriate mantras recited.  The King Ashwapati  gave his daughter fine robes and golden ornaments, and she was wed as befits a princess.  All rejoiced.
Satyavan was a humble man,  but he was glad to have such a fine wife. Ashwapati  returned home in great short, and Satyavati  rejoiced that her wish had been granted.  She had married her soulmate. She had chosen her own husband. He was humble but virtuous. When her father had departed, she stripped off her fine robes and golden ornaments and dress herself in  rough cloth. She endeared herself to everyone in the ashram by her service,   her sweet words, and kindness. She took care of her father-in-law the old blind King  and listened carefully  to his instructions.   She spoke with words of honey to her husband,  and was pleasing in word and deed. She was even-tempered  in public, and loving in private. And so it was, O son of Bharata,  that she lived  in that ashram in the woods with Satyavan,  in great peace,  dedicating herself to the simple life.
And yet, as she lived her life  in love and holiness,  from time to time  she remembered the words  of the saint among the gods Narada: “Alas, for Satyavan’s days are numbered.”  And she would become sorrowful.  The moons came and went  and the earth circled round the sun  and the day of doom approached.
The pleasant days had come and gone and the hour of death came closer for Satyavan. And the words of Narada echoed in Savitri’s mind. “He will live 12 months; no more.”
  At last the day arrived. Savitri   had kept a careful count of days. She knew that her husband would die on the fourth day of the moon.  And knowing this she began to fast and observe the vow of Triratra,  which is extremely austere.   She would fast for three days and three nights.
When he learned of this, her father-in-law said, “Oh Princess, why are you practicing such extreme hardship?  It grieves me to know that you have undertaken such a vow.”
Savitri said, “Please do not worry dear father. I have grown accustomed to such austerity. Perseverance  brings success in the observance of vows.   I gave my word  and I shall keep my vow.”
And her father-in-law said, “Very well my dear. If you have given your word you must keep your vow.”
 And so it was that fasting and fasting Savitri  wasted away.  She was as  thin as a stick of wood.  Three days came and went. When the third night passed and brought the morning, she rose early.   She bathed and lit the sacred fire  before the altar. She offered her respects to all. She came and bowed before the  wise blind king,  her father-in-law.  And then she bowed  before his wife the queen.  With folded hands she offered her obeisances  to the gray-haired brahmanas present  and asked their blessings  that she would not be a widow.  And before the holy fire, those saints and sages blessed her that she would not be a widow in her lifetime.
And knowing that she had been fasting for three days her father-in-law n-law invited her  to break  her fast,  saying, “You have kept your vow.  Come, my daughter, eat.”
But Savitri  said, “ I have completed my vow, but I will eat when the sun goes down. We shall all eat together this evening.” 
 For his part, Satyavan  was on his way to the words,  carrying his axe  on his shoulder.  In the mornings he would go to the  forest  to cut firewood.  But Savitri  stopped him saying,  “Don’t go into the woods alone today.  Let me go with you.”
And Satyavan said, “Why should you go to the woods?  These paths are dangerous  and too rough for your tender feet.  Besides, you were weak from fasting.  How will you keep up with me?”
 “My fast  has refreshed  me,” she said.  “Don’t leave me alone. I need to be with you today. I have made up my mind.”
“So be it.” He said. “But let’s ask permission.”
They went to the king and queen. And Savitri once again bowed before them and said, “Satyavan is going to the forest to cut firewood and gather fruits and flowers.  I know it seems unusual, but today I wish to go with him.  Please allow me. It’s been so long since I have taken a walk in the blossoming woods.”
The blind king heard the trembling voice of his daughter-in-law. He knew she must have some deep purpose. And so he spoke, “It has been  a year  since the wedding.  And all this time, my daughter-in-law has served us well. She is not spoken so much as a harsh word.  Let her do as she wishes.” He smiled. “Go my child; take good care of Satyavan and  help him gather many flowers and fruits in the blossoming woods. Return here with firewood that we may keep the sacrificial fire lit.”
Having received permission, Savitri smiled graciously and took her leave of the King and Queen along with Satyavan who carried his axe on his shoulder.  And that lotus-eyed princess went with her husband into the blossoming woods. But while her face was bright, her heart was heavy, for she knew that Satyavan’s time had come.

  As they passed through those charming woods  the peacocks  fled the path before  them.  They passed the sacred river whose currents carried lotuses. As the mist lifted  with the early sun, the jasmine bloom  perfumed the  morning air.  And Satyavan said, “Behold the opulence of the Lord. God is everywhere, in the fragrance of the flowers, the light of the sun, and the crystal waters of the sacred river.”
And Savitri smiled and beamed, but her shining face hid the sorrow of her aching heart, for she knew that every step drew them nearer to Satyavan’s final moment. “Where was death hiding?” she thought.  “Behind the next tree, or perhaps in the bowers of jasmine blossoms only minutes ahead?”
She looked at Satyavan and calculated the time according to the sun. He stopped  where woodland fruits did grow.  Together they  plucked the fruits and filled the basket.  He found  the fallen branches of an old tamarind tree and with his axe  he chopped the wood  in finer pieces.  And as he swung his axe  with his powerful arms,  his brow began to sweat.  He rested the axe  against a tree. 
Satyavan said,  “I’ll stop a bit.  Suddenly I feel weak.”
He sat. “My head aches,” he said. “I feel a great weight pressing on my heart. My arms throb. I feel as if my head were pierced with  arrows and my limbs were on fire. Let me rest  a bit.”
 And lying down, he said, “I’ll sleep a while.”
She  sat next to her husband on the ground as he slept and placed his head upon her lap. She thought of the words of Narada and calculated the time, to the hour and the minute and the moment.
Satyavan’s time had come.


 All at once a strange figure appeared before clad in red.  On his head was a crown.  He was huge; a giant, fiery as the sun.  Yet while he glowed, his complexion was dark.   His eyes were red and shined  like burning coals.  In his hand he carried a rope  coiled  in a hangman’s noose.

“I am Death.” He said. “My name is Yama.”












Sunday, September 27, 2015

The Story of Savitri: You only give your heart once.

नारायणं नमस्कृत्य नरं चैव नरोत्तमम्

 देवीं सरस्वतीं चैव ततो जयम् उदीरयेत्



महाभरत
Mahābharata
As retold by
Michael Dolan, B.V. Mahāyogi


The Story of Savitri

One day, when Markandeya Rishi was visiting the Pandavas, Yudhisthira said, “I do not mourn for myself or my brothers, but for Draupadi. She has suffered greatly. And for my sake. For my foolish sin of gambling we are now condemned to exile. Never has the earth seen such a true and faithful queen.”

Draupadi 

The Sage Markandeya  replied,  “Draupadi is indeed a true and faithful queen.  Allow me to tell you the story of another such noble lady, that you may appreciate the exalted merit  of your chaste and faithful lady.

“In days of old, there was a pious King of Madras, wise and true.   He was a gentle soul, given to study and meditation. His  word was his bond; he controlled his senses through yoga practice, performed sacrifice according to the Vedic rituals, and gave charity to the brahmanas.    He was respected and loved  in town and country.  His name was Ashwapati.  He was generous to all.

And as he passed  his days dedicating himself to the worship of God, Vishnu, he avoided starting a family. His self abnegation  was such that he observed rigid  vows  of celibacy.  He lived very simply.  Until at last  he grew old.  And understanding the need for an heir to the kingdom he prayed to the goddess  Savitri, a manifestation of Saraswati, consort to Brahma the creator, goddess of learning.  

Savitri the goddess, manifestation of Saraswati, goddess of learning
"And when the goddess was pleased with him she blessed him with a  lotus-eyed daughter.  He named her Savitri  in honor of the goddess.  Now the Princess Savitri   was beautiful as Lakshmi herself, the goddess of fortune.  As years passed she grew into a young lady full of grace.   Her eyes were like lotus petals. And, with her complexion of dark gold, a fine waist,  full breasts,  and rounded limbs,  she moved like an Apsara  descended from Heaven.  


 “And so it was that  on  an  auspicious  day, having fasted and bathed,  and having worshiped Vishnu properly, she came before her father and offered her respects, bowing before his feet.
“King Ashwapati,  seeing her, could understand that she was of age and knew that it was time for her to marry and carry on the line.  

So he  advised her as follows: “My dear daughter, it is time for you to be wed.  I confess that I have not served you well. I should have found you a life partner. You are the fairest maiden in the land. And yet despite your beauty no one has come forth to seek your hand. I have failed you my child, for I have not found you a proper match. And so you yourself must find a suitable husband. Go forth and find yourself a proper match.  Take care that in so doing you incur no sin. I have faith that you will make the right choice. Go now.”

Markandeya  said  “The old King  gave instructions  to the elders  and ministers in attendance.  And so it was that Savitri  mounted a golden chariot pulled by white horses.  She rode through forest groves  to the ashram  where the sages lived.  Having taken their blessing, she departed the kingdom.”

“Princess Savitri  gradually roamed from forest to forest  and through different holy places where she made offerings, based in the different holy rivers, and visited the royal palaces of kings and princes throughout the realm.


“And by-and-by,  after visiting various sacred regions and ashrams, Savitri returned to  the city of Madras, where she found  her father in Council with the great sage Narada,  in the midst of his court, engaged in  a deep conversation  on the nature of transcendental reality. 

Savitri  bowed before her father and Narada,  who said, “Arise my child.  I can see that you have traveled far. Tell us of your pilgrimage. I understand your father has sent you to choose a worthy husband for yourself. What news do you have?”

And the Princess said,  “I have traveled far and wide and have made a decision. In Shalva there is a kshatriya King by the name of Dyumatsena.  This king was blind and deeply wise but was betrayed by an enemy who usurped his throne.  Dyumatsena had an only child, a son, Satyavan. 

"And when they were deposed, Dyumatsena and his Queen fled to the forest with his son, banished in exile. There in the woods, he led  a holy life, this philosopher-king. His son, nobly-born, grew up in the ashram of saints in the woods. Saintly and humble, Satyavan is a man of excellent qualities. That Raja’s son has won my heart. He will be my lord. I have chosen him as my husband.”


“Alas, poor child.” Said Narada, sadly. “You have given your heart to one who is not worthy.”

And King Ashwapati said, “Tell us O Narada of this Satyavan. How is he?”

And Narada replied, “He is noble, it is true. And he loves truth. For this reason, the brahmanas have called him “Satyavan” which means, “Truthful One.” He is faithful both in word and deed.  He is a man of great virtue. Both his father and mother are also virtuous. As a boy he loved horses and used to make sculptures  of horses and for this reason is sometimes called Chitraswa.”


Savitri and Satyavan

Ashwapati said, “Is this Prince Satyavan generous?”
And Narada said,  “Satyavan is as generous as he is true.  He  is as magnanimous as Yayati, who gave his youth to his father.   He is like the sun for grace and glory.  He is wise  as Brihaspati. As for beauty, Satyavan is like the moon, or the twin Ashwins.”

Narada Muni, saint among the gods

 And the king said,  “But Is he self-controlled?  Is he proud and arrogant?”
 And Narada replied, “He has full control over his senses, and while highly educated and possessed of many good qualities he is humble.  He is devoted to his friends, free from malice, modest, and patient.”
 And the king said,  “Yes, but is he honest?”

And Narada said,  “as honest as soul as I’ve ever seen.”
The king said, “but when  my daughter mentioned  this prince Satyavan,  you said ‘alas poor child.’”
“Indeed,” said Narada. “You should have helped her find a suitor, my dear King. She has chosen most unwisely.”

“But with all these good qualities,” said the king,  “why you say she has chosen unwisely? I see no defect in his character.”
 “He has only one defect,” said the saint.  “ And like a drop of ink and a glass of milk, it darkens all his good qualities.  His fault is huge. It cannot be overcome.”
“What fault is this?” Said the King. “If a man is honest and truthful, generous and wise, modest and humble, noble, possessed of a great fortune, and an expert ruler who controls his senses, why shouldn’t my daughter  marry him?”
“It pains me to tell you this, my dear  King, but  this prince’s days are numbered.  He has but one year to live. And while he is possessed of many virtues, is one vice is this: at the end of the year he must surely face his death. You see my friend, no one lives  longer than the time allotted him. And  it is the will of the gods that 12 months from now, Prince Satyavan  shall die.”
And with these words, the King shook his head. And looking up at his daughter, he said  “O Savitri,  my darling child you must choose another. This man cannot be your husband. He is fated to die within a year. Choose  again. Find another suitor.”

Yamaraja comes for Satyavan

But   Savitri said,   “ O father, you asked me to choose and I did. I gave my heart to the young prince  and cannot take it back.  In this life, death comes but once; and a  maiden gives her heart but once.  What has been given cannot be taken back. I cannot choose again for I have already chosen.   When you did not arrange a suitable husband, you sent me to roam throughout the realm. I  did so and found the best of all men. I chose him and no other. I want Prince Satyavan  as my husband.  I cannot change my will. First there is will, then words, then deeds. Deeds have consequences; such is the law of karma.  None can change their  destiny.  If my Prince is destined to die, so be it. But I have chosen,  and my word is my bond.  I shall have Prince Satyavan  as my husband and Lord. I shall make no other choice.”
And Narada said, “Oh King,  your daughter is virtuous.  Having made her choice, she is faithful. It is not wise to turn her from the path of truth.  I bless her decision. Let us abide by her choice.  She shall never find another man as virtuous as Satyavan.  Give your daughter’s hand in marriage to that noble Prince.  You have my blessing.”

Markandeya said, “And so saying, the sage among the gods rose up into the sky to heaven. The King for his part accepted his daughter’s choice and the judgment of the saint.  And so it was that King Ashwapati went about making preparations for his daughter’s wedding.”

Friday, September 25, 2015

Rendicion


नारायणं नमस्कृत्य नरं चैव नरोत्तमम्
 देवीं सरस्वतीं चैव ततो जयम् उदीरयेत्


महाभारत
Mahābhārata

Michael Dolan, B.V. Mahāyogī

Bhagavad-Gītā


Liberación a través del Amor Divino

Rendición
Bhagavad-Gītā Continuación Capítulo 18º
Dharma

Hasta ahora, Kṛṣṇa ha explicado la naturaleza del “karma” categóricamente, llegando tan lejos como a describir el karma en términos de las modalidades de la naturaleza.  Hay trabajo en bondad, pasión e ignorancia, o sattva, rajas y tamas.
La discusión del karma conduce a un entendimiento del dharma ya que estas dos ideas están interrelacionadas. La palabra dharma deriva de dhrit, el cual “mantiene junto” O “sostiene.” Dharma involucra lo que es esencial al ser y como tal, el Dharma es existencial,
Dharma es la realidad ontológica confrontada por la consciencia del mundo de los fenómenos, donde el karma es su experiencia y dimensión ética.
Dharma en efecto tiene que ver con “quien eres” mientras que el karma tiene que ver con “qué haces.” Cuando decimos, “Esto es lo que soy y lo que hago,” estamos en realidad hablando de dharma en un sentido social, un sentido relativo. Cuando preguntamos “¿Quién soy?” en un sentido ontológico, estamos viendo hacia lo eterno o el sanatana dharma.
Por supuesto hay concepciones relativas y absolutas de quién soy, tal como hay concepciones absolutas y relativas de lo que haces. Quien eres y qué haces vienen juntos en el punto del “deber.” Así que en ocasiones dharma significa “deber” como una función social, ya que “yo soy” y “qué hago” se paralelan una a la otra.
Si pregunto “¿quién eres?” y tú dices, “soy una maestra y madre.” Entonces estás definida por el rol social que juegas y por el trabajo que realizas. Esta combinación de trabajo kármico, y la identidad del ser dharmico te marcan, te etiquetan, te categorizan.
Los roles sociales se determinan por una serie de identificaciones que hacemos a través de los seres conscientes, después de aceptar el condicionamiento como una entidad relativa en el mundo de la explotación.
 Mientras uno piensa, “Soy un hombre, soy un americano, soy un carpintero,” por ejemplo, entonces uno se condiciona por esas ideas para encajar en el rol social en cuestión. Este no es un dharma eterno, sino una versión social relativa del dharma. En este sentido el dharma también significa una especie de “religión.” Yo nací en México, por ejemplo, me identifico como católico, mientras que alguien nacido en Tailandia se puede identificar con el Budismo.
Pero esta identificación corporal con una religión social en particular tiene poco que ver con el verdadero dharma de la entidad viviente. Si consideramos que la naturaleza o dharma del alma es estar en unión con Dios en una relación amorosa, muchos estereotipos acerca del ritual y la sociedad se vienen abajo.
Esto es lo que Kṛṣṇa quiere decir cuando dice “sarvadharmaparityaja mamekamsharanam vraja,” Abandona todos los otros dharmas, y ríndete a Mí. Él quiere decir que lo relativo, los aspectos sociales del dharma son superficiales y han de ser abandonados. El dharma verdadero es la rendición a Dios, Todo lo demás es superficial.
Pero antes de llegar a esta conclusión, la cual es la esencia del Gītā, Kṛṣṇa rinde homenaje a los principios probados con el tiempo de la religión que mantiene bajo control a la sociedad. Explica que desde tiempo inmemorial, la sociedad se ha dividido en cuatro clases básicas, de varnas, de acuerdo a cómo, la propia naturaleza de uno (svabhava) y el dharma (svadharma), se colorea por las modalidades de la bondad, pasión e ignorancia.
Kṛṣṇa dice, “Nadie está libre de las modalidades de la naturaleza. Ni siquiera los dioses. Los brāhmaṇas, kṣatriyas, vaiśyas, y śudras se distinguen por las cualidades que nacen de su propia naturaleza en asociación con las modalidades materiales. Se dan las cualidades de los brahmaṇas: Serenidad y calma, auto-control, austeridad, pureza, tolerancia y perdón, rectitud, honestidad, sabiduría, conocimiento, Fe en Dios. Los Kṣatriyas  tienen las siguientes cualidades: Heroísmo, habilidad, determinación, coraje en la batalla, generosidad y liderazgo. La agricultura, la protección a la vaca, y los negocios son el trabajo natural de los vaiśyas, y para los sudras la mano de obra y el servicio hacia los demás.”
Kṛṣṇa explica que la perfección moral depende del llevar a cabo el propio deber perfectamente, y hablando coloquialmente sería peligroso el seguir la senda de otro. “Es mejor realizar imperfectamente el propio dharma, que perfectamente el dharma de alguien más. Ningún pecado se adhiere al llevar a cabo el deber de acuerdo a la propia naturaleza. Incluso si el trabajo de acuerdo a la propia naturaleza es defectuoso. Todo trabajo tiene algún defecto tal como el humo contamina el fuego. Pero es digno de alabanza llevar a cabo el propio deber. Uno que termina su deber sin apego, quien subyuga al ego, llegará a través de la renunciación perfecta al estado supremo, trascendiendo todo karma.”
Kṛṣṇa aconseja a Arjuna personalmente acerca de que no necesita abandonar su deber de soldado y hacerse un yogui. El dharma de Arjuna, su posición constitucional en la sociedad es la de ser un soldado. Será mejor para él cumplir su deber imperfectamente como soldado que hacerse un yogui perfecto. Llevar a cabo el deber de uno siguiendo el propio dharma es purificador aunque haya algún defecto en la misma ejecución del trabajo.”
La guerra involucra daños colaterales. Arjuna es un héroe. Kṛṣṇa le dice, “Sé un héroe. No te preocupes de los “daños colaterales.” No hay nada que puedas hacer al respecto. Si abandonas tu deber por la vida de Yogui, sólo provocarás decepción. Hay algo ennoblecedor en cumplir con tu deber: te conducirá hacia la perfección moral.”
Aparentemente Kṛṣṇa está abogando para que todos se apeguen responsablemente a su posición de acuerdo al Varnashram dharma; pero mientras que generalmente apoya el “marco religioso” de la sociedad mundana, su lección para Arjuna se profundiza más.
Dejar a un lado el así llamado “deber” o dharma, Kṛṣṇa se desplaza hacia la idea profunda que le ha enseñado todo el tiempo a Arjuna. Más allá de las consideraciones de liberación del pecado, más allá de la liberación del nacimiento y la muerte, más allá de los métodos del karma-yoga, más allá del jñāna-yoga, o yoga místico, hay una idea más elevada: amor divino. Bhakti-yoga o dedicación que deja atrás todos los conceptos mundanos de karma y dharma.
Él dice, “Uno puede entender a la personalidad suprema tal como es únicamente a través del servicio devocional. Y cuando uno se halla en plena consciencia del Señor Supremo a causa de tal devoción, puede entrar en el reino de Dios. A pesar de estar ocupado en toda clase de actividades, mi devoto, bajo mi protección alcanza, por mi gracia, la morada eterna e imperecedera.
En toda actividad depende únicamente de mí y trabaja siempre bajo mi protección. En tal servicio devocional, se siempre completamente consciente de mí. Si estás consciente de mí, pasarás, por mi gracia, por encima de todos los obstáculos de la vida condicionada. Si, en cambio, no trabajas en esa consciencia, sino para el ego falso, al no escucharme, te perderás.
“Si no actúas bajo mi dirección y no peleas, serás falsamente dirigido. Debido a tu naturaleza, tendrás que ocuparte en la guerra.
El Señor Supremo está situado en el corazón de todos, Oh Arjuna, y está dirigiendo los movimientos de todas las entidades vivientes, que están situadas en una especie de máquina hecha de energía material, Oh hijo de Bharata. Ríndete por completo a Mí. Por mi gracia alcanzaras la paz trascendental y la morada suprema y eterna.
“Porque eres mi muy querido amigo te digo la parte más confidencial del conocimiento, escucha esto de mí para tu beneficio. Siempre piensa en mí y hazte devoto mío. Adórame y ríndeme tributo. Y sin falta vendrás a mí. Te lo prometo porque eres mi muy querido amigo.
“Abandona la variedad de religiones y simplemente ríndete ante mí. Yo te liberaré de toda reacción pecaminosa. No temas.”
Cuando Kṛṣṇa dice, “abandona la variedad de religiones” la palabra operativa es “dharma.” Dharma significa “religión” pero lleva el sentido de “deber” como en “deberes religiosos.” Mientras que antes Kṛṣṇa ya ha dicho que es importante cumplir con los deberes sociales de uno, aquí se nos dice que esos deberse sociales son valiosos únicamente cuando la rendición a Dios es el objetivo. En la rendición completa a Dios todos los otros deberes son relativos y deben ser abandonados.
Bhaktivedānta Swāmi Prabhupāda comenta,
“Hay diferentes tipos de trascendentalistas – algunos de ellos están apegados a la visión del Brahmán impersonal, algunos de ellos están atados por las características de la Súper-alma, pero quien está atraído hacia el aspecto personal de la Suprema Personalidad de Dios, y, sobre todo, quien es atraído por la Suprema Personalidad de Dios como el mismísimo Kṛṣṇa, es el trascendentalista más perfecto.
En otras palabras, el servicio devocional a Kṛṣṇa en consciencia plena es la parte más confidencial del conocimiento y es la esencia de todo el Bhagavad-Gītā.”


Karma


नारायणं नमस्कृत्य नरं चैव नरोत्तमम्
 देवीं सरस्वतीं चैव ततो जयम् उदीरयेत्


महाभारत
Mahābhārata

Michael Dolan, B.V. Mahāyogī

Bhagavad-Gītā


Liberación a través del Amor Divino



Karma
Resumen del Bhagavad-Gītā
Continuación Capítulo 18.
Rechazo y Renuncia Adecuados

Arjuna pregunta a Kṛṣṇa acerca del propósito de la renunciación y el significado de la vida en orden de renuncia. Quiere saber la diferencia entre la palabra tyāga “renunciar” y sannyāsa “rendición.” Aunque son sinónimos, hay entre ellos una diferencia.
Kṛṣṇa le explica que a veces la renuncia a las cosas puede ser superficial, la verdadera renunciación implica no sólo abandonar la actividad kármica, sino sus resultados. La verdadera renunciación es triple, deja atrás cualquier apego hacia el karma bueno o malo, la voluntad del alma en iniciar el karma reactivo, junto con los resultados del karma.
Es imposible detener la acción; todos los seres son activos por naturaleza. Y hay virtud en el sacrificio, la caridad y la penitencia y según los grandes pensadores a estas cosas no hay que renunciar.
Rendición
La verdadera renunciación, entonces, no es una cuestión de evitar trabajar, sino rendir el propio trabajo, la motivación de uno e incluso el propio ser ante Dios quien es el Súper-sujeto y el Agente Original. La verdadera renunciación implica dedicación, con lo que Kṛṣṇa quiere decir rendición en amor divino. (sarva-dharman parityajya maṃ ekam śaranam vraja.)
Kṛṣṇa explica que la renunciación en sí no es necesariamente virtuosa, puesto que puede realizarse en bondad, pasión, o ignorancia. Explica que el sacrificio, la caridad y la penitencia, aunque purifican incluso a las grandes almas, han de hacerse sin esperar resultados. Quien renuncia a su deber por necedad, pasión, o incluso por apego al buen karma. Todas estas son verdades relativas.
Renunciar al deber a causa de la necedad o la ilusión es halla en la modalidad de la ignorancia; la renunciación que involucra el rechazo del propio deber debido a que es problemático se dice que se halla en la modalidad de la pasión. Quien lleva a cabo su deber porque debe de ser hecho, quien renuncia al apego hacia los frutos de su trabajo actúa en la bondad. Quien realiza su trabajo con conocimiento, quien no odia el mal karma y no está apegado al buen karma como un fin en sí mismo, entiende la verdadera naturaleza del karma y la renunciación.
Karma
En el capítulo 18º Kṛṣṇa explica que es imposible para el alma encarnada abandonar el trabajo. El Karma es inevitable. Quien se dedica a sí mismo a Dios y abandona los frutos del karma es un renunciante verdadero. Quien está apegado a los frutos del karma sufrirá las reacciones después de la muerte, mientras que quien está libre del apego nunca sufrirá ni los resultados del mal karma ni disfrutará de los resultados del buen karma:
Kṛṣṇa explica además  las leyes de la acción y reacción conocidas como karma:
Las leyes de la acción y reacción están explicadas en los Vedas. La acción tiene cinco factores: 1. El sitio de la acción, o el cuerpo;  2. El sujeto, o el alma encarnada, jivatma; 3. Los sentidos y la mente los cuales son los instrumentos de la acción; 4. La acción o el esfuerzo, y;  5. El Súper-sujeto, el Atma suprema o el Gobernante interno quien es la causa última. El alma individual tiene libertad de actuar en los límites de las modalidades de la naturaleza material y es supervisado por Paramātmā a través de cuya voluntad la acción se lleva a cabo.
Ya sea hacia el buen o mal karma el alma encarnada que incide a través de la mente y el cuerpo o el discurso es impulsada por estos cinco factores. Quien se considera a sí mismo el único sujeto, sin tomar en cuenta estos cinco factores de la acción tiene una inteligencia nublada y no puede ver las cosas como son.
Kṛṣṇa explica que el alma renunciante de inteligencia pura quien realiza su deber sin motivarse en el ego no es tocada por el karma. Incluso al matar, no hace nada. No está atada por sus acciones.
Sujeto, objeto, y percepción son los tres factores que motivan el karma.
El conocimiento del acto a realizar, el propio acto y la realización del acto son los tres aspectos de la acción.
Cada uno de éstos está afectado por las tres influencias de la naturaleza material, sattva, raja, tama, las cuerdas que halan al alma viviente de acuerdo con sus inclinaciones hasta que se ata y condiciona.
Un Análisis más detallado del Karma:
Karma también puede dividirse en los tres componentes de la acción: el alma encarnada o el realizador de la acción, los sentidos o agentes de la acción y la acción que se realiza. Estos a su vez están influenciados por el cómo uno está obligado en términos de bondad, pasión e ignorancia (sattva, raja, tama).
El sujeto, el objeto, y la percepción también son influidos por la bondad, pasión e ignorancia. La combinación de éstos crea la variedad del karma.
Percepción: Sattvik, Rajashikm Tamasik

Una percepción filosófica de unidad inconcebible y la distinción de todos los seres vivientes es sattvik. La percepción que identifica a los diferentes seres vivientes de acuerdo a su cuerpo físico es rajashik, La percepción que ignora la verdad es oscuridad e ignorancia y es tamasik.