Showing posts with label Mahabharata. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mahabharata. Show all posts

Saturday, July 11, 2020

Living Bhagavad Gita 023: Journey to the East



A series of short articles on the Bhagavad Gita for people living and working in our volatile, uncertain, complex and ambiguous times filled with stress and fear. This scripture born in a battlefield teaches us how to face our challenges, live our life fully, achieve excellence in whatever we do and find happiness, peace and contentment.

[Continued from the previous post.]


The name given to the first chapter of the Gita is Arjuna Vishada Yoga – the Yoga of Arjuna’s Vishada. The word vishada is translated variously as melancholy, sorrow, grief, depression, despondency, sadness, misery and so on.  
We just saw in the last article how Arjuna surrendered to melancholy, dropped his bow and arrows and collapsed into his chariot telling Krishna he will not fight, he finds no point in fighting and killing, no point in winning the kingdom, no point in pleasures or even in life itself. Kim no rajyena govinda, kim bhogair jeevitena vaa, he asks: “What good is the kingdom, Krishna, and what good are pleasures or life itself?”
All over the world today there is a lot of discussion about depression which is fast spreading and assuming the form of a wild fire that can consume everything. I was part of the faculty team giving an intensive training programme for doctors at XLRI School of Business and Human Resources and we were having a pre-programme dinner when the topic of depression came up. Several professors felt depression is fast becoming the most dangerous problem the world is facing today with a large number of lives claimed every day. This was of course in the days before the covid-19 pandemic.  
Bright young people seem to be particularly susceptible to depression. In his bestselling book The Happiness Advantage: The Seven Principles of Positive Psychology, Shawn Achor speaks about depression in Harvard University where happiness was the subject of his research for several years. Achor says “despite all its magnificent facilities, a wonderful faculty, and a student body made up of some of America’s (and the world’s) best and brightest, it is home to many chronically unhappy young men and women. In 2004, for instance, a Harvard Crimson poll found that as many as 4 in 5 Harvard students suffer from depression at least once during the school year, and nearly half of all students suffer from depression so debilitating they can’t function.” Shawn Achor then goes on to say that “This unhappiness epidemic is not unique to Harvard. A Conference Board survey released in January of 2010 found that only 45 percent of workers surveyed were happy at their jobs, the lowest in 22 years of polling. Depression rates today are ten times higher than they were in 1960. Every year the age threshold of unhappiness sinks lower, not just at universities but across the nation. Fifty years ago, the mean onset age of depression was 29.5 years old. Today, it is almost exactly half that: 14.5 years old.”
Speaking about depression, the Himalayan monk Om Swami says in his book When All Is Not Well: Depression and Sadness: “Depression isn’t just sadness. It is emptiness, it is misery. It is pain and nothingness at once. When you are truly depressed, you lack the ability or will to cheer yourself up. No one just ‘has depression’. You suffer from it.”
Continuing, Om Swami explains what depression feels like. “You will wake at 5, 6, maybe 7 a.m., feeling as though you had only just fallen asleep... If you don’t have to be somewhere, you could lie in bed for another three hours; too tired, too miserable and pathetic to crawl out of your bed. Or maybe you will sleep until 1 p.m., because it’s so much easier to sleep through most of the day than actually live it, and you’re so unbelievably tired anyway. You will push through the day, knowing that every hour will be a struggle and not knowing how you will feel tomorrow. People will ask what is wrong, and you will simply smile and say, ‘Nothing, I’m just tired.’ ...You will spend your days not only lost in the haze of depression, but your mind will be so consumed with these thoughts of escaping and self-destruction that you think you could explode…”
But the important question is why so many people are feeling depressed today. Why is depression spreading across the world like a deadly epidemic today?
The reasons are not too difficult to find. For one thing, our life has become too fast. We are obsessed with speed – in real life as well as in virtual life. We have become intolerant of slowness. And stillness? Of course, we have grown strangers to it. We have forgotten that all that is beautiful in life comes from stillness. Creativity comes from stillness. Intuition comes from stillness. Art and music come from stillness. The essence of dance is not movement but the stillness that is its substratum, from which arises and into which it goes back. All inventions and discoveries are made in moments of stillness. Intuition comes from stillness, insights come from stillness, healing comes from stillness. Medical professionals have long recognized that silence plays an important part in healing. For instance, the experience of even a little real silence can produce physiological changes that neutralize the effects of stress.“When you are still, you find that your perception of life is at its purest,” says Ron Rothbun in his book The Way Is Within.
We are all familiar with the story of Archimedes who ran through the streets of Athens shouting eureka, eureka. The Athenian ruler had given him an assignment. Someone had gifted the ruler a crown and he wanted to find out if the crown was of pure gold or some alloy had been mixed with the gold. The specific gravity of gold was known then, but no one knew how to measure the mass of an irregular object like the crown. Archimedes was the best scientist of the day and he struggled for weeks to find a solution to the problem. If only there was a way to measure the mass of the crown! Then you could decide whether the crown was pure gold or not.
Eventually Archimedes gave up his struggles admitting defeat and sank into a tub for a relaxed bath. It was then, in that moment when there were not struggles in his mind and the mind had become still with his acceptance of defeat, that he noticed water spilling over from the tub as his body sank into the tub. That very instant insight was born, a great discovery happened: the mass of water that spilled out was equal to the mass of his body that had submerged in the water. The quantity of water that flows out when a substance is immersed in a vessel full of water is equal to the mass of the substance.
In that still moment, his problem had been solved and climbing out of the tub he ran through the streets of Athens shouting that word that has now become part of every language in the world: eureka, eureka!
We all have had the experience of something, a name, we had forgotten coming back to us the moment we give up the struggles and the mind becomes still.
All science and all technology is the product of still moments. All that is precious to humanity are products of inner stillness, of the mind is that is empty of restless thoughts. The saying that the empty mind is the devil’s workshop is completely wrong. The empty mind is God’s workshop!
Indian culture says the universe is born of God’s empty mind. The Taittiriya Upanishad says, “Sa tapo’tapyata. Sa tapas taptvaa idam sarvam asrjata. Yadidam kincha.” “He did tapas. Having done tapas, he created all this. He created all that exists.” It is from the mind of God that has become empty because of tapas that the universe comes into being.      
There is story told about the world famous painter Raphael and an unknown woodcutter. One morning as the woodcutter was going to the forest to cut wood, he saw Raphael sitting by a lake, lazily picking up pebbles and dropping them into the lake. The woodcutter shook his head in disapproval – what a waste of time! – and went on his way. As the woodcutter was returning home with his load of firewood, he saw Raphael still sitting there picking up pebbles and throwing them into the lake! What an idiot, he thought! I have done a whole day’s work and the moron is still sitting there and throwing pebbles into the lake!
We know today that such a woodcutter existed because of Raphael, one of the greatest painters the world has known.
In the ancient Indian tradition, in fact all over the world, we began everything with a few moments of silence, of mental stillness, of prayer. But today stillness, and even slowness, is looked down upon. It is one of the greatest casualties of the age of speed.      
The virtues of slowness are unlimited, says Carl Honore in his book In praise of slowness. In his book Slowing Down to the Speed of Life, Richard Carlson says more or less the same thing. And it is that slowness that we have rejected in favour of speed! Faster, faster, ever faster, says our culture!
Slowing down and experiencing stillness is one of our basic needs – it is as essential as breathing. Our brains go completely haywire unless we experience slowness and stillness on a regular basis. Which is exactly what is not happening today. And that is taking a heavy toll on young minds today, especially gifted young minds, leading to depression and all that depression leads to. The philosophy aaraam hai haraam has to go. Laziness is bad, sluggishness is bad, sloth and apathy are bad, but relaxation is not. It is the most healing thing most of us know, apart from sleep. In fact sleep is a form of relaxation too. The second highest form of relaxation, after meditation which is the highest form of relaxation in existence.
We need to spend more time ‘plucking daisies’, we need to spend more time climbing mountains, we need to spend more time unfocused and in ‘purposeless’ activities, like Raphael picking up pebbles and throwing them into the lake. We need to give our souls time to catch up with us. That is the medicine for fighting the insane obsession with speed that drives us away from our own calm inner centre.  
A European explorer was in the Amazon forests, exploring the flora and fauna there. He had hired a supervisor and the supervisor had hired native people to help him in his work. One day passed the explorer and the natives hurrying from one thing to another, then another day and then yet another day. On the fourth day when the explorer was ready to start he found not one native was ready. When enquired, the supervisor gave him an incredibly beautiful reply. He told the explorer: they are giving time for their souls to catch up with them!
We all need to give time for our souls to catch up with us.  
One of the most beautiful Chuang Tzu stories ever says:
The prince discovered when he returned from the top of the mountain that he had mislaid the Priceless Pearl up on the mountain.
He sent his generals and their armies to search for it, but they could not find it. He employed Huang-Ti, the vehement debater, to find the Pearl, but Huang-Ti was unable to find it. He sent his skilled gardeners and his artisans to find it, but they too came home empty-handed.
Finally, in despair, having tried everyone else, he sent Purposeless to the mountain, and Purposeless found the pearl immediately.
"How odd it is", mused the Prince, "that it was Purposeless who found it!"
We are all birds meant to fly in the open sky. Those who have known the truth, the Upanishad rishis for instance, call us amritasya putraah – children of the Immortal, each one of us a divine spark. The Mundaka Upanishad tells us: yathaa sudeeptaat paavakaad visphulingaah sahasrashah prabhavante saroopaah, tathaa aksharaad vividhaah somya bhaavaah prajaayante tatra chaivaapi yanti: Just as sparks in their thousands are born from a roaring fire, each of the same nature as the fire itself, so do, dear one, beings come forth from the Imperishable One and return to It. [Mu.Up.2.1]   
No, we are not meant to spend our lives hopping about on the ground searching for worms but to stretch out our wings, soar up and enjoy the bliss of the boundless skies – the boundless skies of consciousness. We are meant for the bhooma, the vast, and not for the alpa, the small. The owl will be satisfied with the rotting body of a mouse, but not the phoenix which will touch no food other than certain sacred fruits and drink only from the clearest springs. The chakora lives on moonbeams, says Indian mythology, and will touch nothing else. The way man lives today is like the phoenix being forced to live on rotten mice and the chakora being forced to live on the food that pigs eat.
By and large, man has forgotten the higher. We have become flotsams with no roots in our spiritual selves. We are living not the philosophy of the rising son as we did in the past but the philosophy of the setting sun. Frustration and depression are bound to be there.        
O0O
As we saw, the vishada that happened to Arjuna in the battlefield is called by different names such as melancholy, sorrow, grief, depression, despondency, sadness, misery and so on
But there is a different name for it. India calls it vairagya, dispassion, and considers it sacred. Vairagya is the first step in the journey to the east, the journey to the land where the sun rises, the journey to the source of all light. Light as bright as the light of a thousand suns, light before which all other lights pale.
There is mantra that is traditionally chanted when we do arati, ritually show burning lamps before a sacred idol. Na tatra sooryo bhaati na chandrataarakam nemaa vidyuto bhaanti kutoyam agnih; tam eva bhaantam anubhaaati saravam tasya bhaasaa sarvam idam vibhaati, says the mantra. “The sun does not shine there, nor the moon or the stars. How then will this fire? That alone shines and everything else shines after it, reflecting its light.” The journey to that source of all light begins with what Arjuna is experiencing now and that is why India considers vairagya sacred.   
This is something that happens only to sensitive people. Much of the time the kind of questions Arjuna asks, the feelings Arjuna feels, come to us from a great shower of blessing that descends upon us. It is ishwra-anugraha, the grace of God, says India.
The rishi of the Svetashvatara Upanishad declares boldly and unhesitatingly:
vedaaham etaṃ puruṣhaṃ mahaantam aaditya-varṇaṃ tamasaḥ parastaat;
tam eva viditvaa atimṛtyum eti naanyaḥ panthaa vidyate'yanaaya. Sv. Up. 3.8
“I know the Great Purusha, He who is luminous like the sun and beyond darkness. Only by knowing Him does one go beyond death. There is no other path worth travelling!” 
Vairagya is the invitation to begin our journey on the only path worth travelling.
It is not only Arjuna who has grace showered on him as he stands in the chariot driven by Krishna in the middle of the two armies in Kurukshertra, but all of us, the entire humanity. Because it is in response to this vairagya he felt that the Bhagavad Gita was born on a shukla paksha ekadashi day, on the eleventh day of the bright lunar fortnight in the month of Margashirsha, more than five thousand and one hundred years ago. 
A well known story from the Mahabharata says that both Arjuna and Duryodhana went to meet Krishna seeking his help before the war began. Duryodhana was the first to enter Krishna’s bed chamber and he went and took a seat by the head of the bed. A few moments later Arjuna entered the chamber and he too could have gone and taken a seat at the head of the bed as Duryodhana had done. Instead, he went and stood at Krishna’s feet. When Krishna opened his eyes a few moments later it was naturally Arjuna who was standing at the foot of the bed that he saw first. As we all know, it was on him that Krishna’s grace fell in the form of his presence with him during the war and as his driver.
Krishna is grace. The greatest possible grace! With Krishna on your side, the impossible becomes possible. With Krishna on your side miracles happen. Mookam karoti vaachaalam pangum landhayate girim, yat-kripaa tam aham vande parama-ananda-maadhavam, says one of the shlokas traditionally chanted before the study of the Gita: “I bow down to Krishna, who is supreme bliss itself, with whose grace the speechless become eloquent and the lame crosses over mountains.”
The choice that Arjuna made in Krishna’s bedchamber, rejecting the Narayani Sena, rejecting the power of a mighty army and choosing just Krishna, Krishna’s grace, it is that choice that is now showering on him in the form of the Bhagavad Gita. All we have to do is to make that choice, everything else happens by itself. That is why Krishna concludes his teachings in the Gita by saying:
sarvadharmaan parityajya maam ekam sharanam vraja; aham twaa sarvapaapebhyo mokshayishyaami maa shuchah BG 18.66
“Abandoning all dharmas, take refuge in me alone; I will liberate you from all sins. Have no grief.”   
Duryodhana missed Krishna’s grace throughout his life. After the war was over, Gandhari curses Krishna saying he could have and should have helped her son but did not. But grace can shower on you only when you are open to it. If a pot remains upside down when the sky showers rains, not a drop will go inside even if an entire season passes. In fact, the only thing you need to deserve grace is openness to it, receptivity to it, which is what Duryodhana did not have.  There were a thousand occasions in his life when he could have taken refuge in Krishna, but rejects every single one of them.
There is a famous Indian story about a beggar who was crossing a bridge, walking with a stick in hand. The story says that Goddess Parvati takes pity on the poor beggar and requests Shiva to bless him with wealth. Shiva says there is no point because even if he gives wealth to him, he will not get it because he is not open to his blessing. But the heart of the goddess is the heart of a mother and she insists that the man be given wealth. Shiva agrees and a treasure chest appears on the bridge. The moment the chest appears on the bridge, the beggar has a thought: “I am young now and I can see well, but what will happen to me when I grow old and lose my eyesight? I must practice walking blind right from now.”  With that thought, he closes he eyes and walking with the help of the stick crosses the rest of the bridge, missing the treasure completely!
Throughout his life Duryodhana behaved like that beggar.
Whereas Arjuna chose Krishna lifetimes ago. The Mahabharata tells us they have been friends across lifetimes, meditating in the Himalayas together.
There is a mantra in the Mundaka Upanishad that my teacher Swami Dayananda Saraswati was very fond of. During the years when I was in the Sandeepany Gurukula and learning timeless Indian wisdom from him, he must have quoted this mantra hundreds of times.
pareekshya lokaan karmachitaan braahmano nirvedam aayaan naastyakrtah krtena tadvijnanartham sa gurum evabhigacched samitpaanih shrotriyam brahmanishtham. Mu.Up.1.2.12 
“Having examined all in the world that is gained through actions, after attaining nirveda and realizing that the uncreated cannot be achieved through actions, let [him who has thus become] a brahmana, approach with samit in hand a guru who is learned [in the traditional spiritual lore] and rooted in the Brahman.”
The soul of the entire Indian spiritual culture could be found in that one mantra. Before approaching the guru and being qualified for his grace, we must developed nirveda towards all that can be attained through our own power, through our actions. Nirveda means vairagya – what Arjuna is experiencing at the moment. It is when this vairagya is born in your heart that you become a brahmana – one whose entire focus is on  attaining the Brahman, one whose concentration now is only on attaining the spiritual goal. And then he should go to his guru with samit in hand. Samit is kindling used in sacrificial fire. Carrying that to your guru is the symbol of your joyful willingness to serve the master.
Duryodhana is still far from the nirveda the Upanishad talks about. He is not willing to surrender to Krishna and therefore is not ready for the grace. He has not yet developed what makes you a brahmana ­– the all consuming urge to abandon everything else and walk the path of shreyas to reach the land of the ultimate good, the land of light, having reached which you never return – yad gatvaa na nivartante. He is still very much with the loka of wealth, power, position, sensual pleasures and so on.
Arjuna has developed that urge and he is ready. That is why he is asking, “What good is the kingdom, Krishna, and what good are pleasures or life itself?” The vishada he is experiencing at the moment is the clear sign of that.
All vishadas, depressions, are not bad, some are good. Some can take you to the higher. They come to you from divine grace. With them begins our journey to the east, the greatest journey we will ever make.
O0O

Friday, June 26, 2020

Living Bhagavad Gita 21: Loser Mindset, Winner Mindset



A series of short articles on the Bhagavad Gita for people living and working in our volatile, uncertain, complex and ambiguous times filled with stress and fear. This scripture born in a battlefield teaches us how to face our challenges, live our life fully, achieve excellence in whatever we do and find happiness, peace and contentment.

[Continued from the previous post]
Alas! How sad that we are ready to commit the great sin of killing our own people out of greed for the pleasures of the kingdom! It would be better for me if the Dhartarashtras kill me in battle with their weapons while I am unarmed and unresisting. BG 1.45-46  
Arjuna is a winner. Perhaps the most common among his many other names is Vijaya, meaning the victorious one, a winner.  His mindset is that of a winner, through and through. Among the many splendid warriors in the Mahabharata, he is the most consistent winner. Fearless in battlefield, a master of strategic moves, the greatest living master of the martial arts, he possesses the secrets of more weapons empowered with powerful mantras than anyone else [not counting Krishna, of course]. At the same time he is a sensitive human being, highly ethical, uncompromising in his values, ideal in his social behaviour towards his elders – he is the acme of what the ancient world expected a man to be.
His concerns about having to kill his grandfather and his guru are genuine, his guilt about killing one’s own people is genuine. We all should feel what he feels in similar circumstances, not feeling such concerns and such guilt makes us subhuman. Krishna is not going to ask Arjuna not to have such feelings but to do what needs to be done for the sake of dharma, virtuous ways of living and leading, for lokasangraha, the common good, in spite of such feelings, rising above such feelings. Not being able to do so, to rise above such feelings and do what needs to be done, is to behave like a loser – which is what he is doing at the moment, perhaps for the first time in his life. The winner mindset tells us to stand and face our challenges whatever they are and take the right steps needed to be a winner, whereas the loser mindset tells us to run away from them.
There is an invaluable lesson that Kunti, a winning mother in every sense of the term, gives us in the winner mindset exactly seven days before the incidents we are discussing happens. It is perhaps the most empowering message ever given by a mother to her son. The message was given not to Arjuna but to Yudhishthira and it was sent through Krishna. The message is known as Vidula Upakhyana and was one of the inspirations for our freedom fighters when we were trying to overthrow the yoke our colonial masters had put on the shoulders of Mother India.
The language of the message is harsh, the words as sharp as whiplashes, because Kunti felt nothing less than that would arouse her son who had sunk deep into the mire of the loser mindset. She gave this message to Krishna when he came to see her and take leave of her after the failure of the peace talks in the Kuru assembly. As he touched his aunt’s feet by way of paying respects to her and told her he was now hurrying to the Pandavas because there was no time to lose, she gave him this message for her eldest son and then added a few words for her other four sons and for Draupadi, with whom she shared an amazing relationship, as though they were twin souls.
Kunti never minces her words. She tells Krishna to tell her son what a shame he has become. He has forgotten his dharma and has became a worshipper of piece at all costs because of which she had to wait for the kindness of other people even for the food she eats for thirteen years, says she referring to the twelve years the Pandavas spent in the forest and the one year they lived incognito in Virata while she lived in Hastinapura. She says peace at all costs is not the way of kshatriyas who should live by the might of their arms and look after their subjects by it. She compares her eldest son whom the world calls the embodiment of dharma to a brahmana who does not know the meaning of the mantras of the Vedas but parrots them. As Kunti sees is it, Yudhishthira does not know dharma but only the words of dharma. She reminds Yudhishthira that kshatriyas are born of the arms of the cosmic person, the virat purusha, God, which makes them God’s arms on earth to establish righteousness, justice, equality, fearlessness, truth, kindness, compassion and all other godly ways that the Gita calls daivi sampada in its sixteenth chapter.  
There is a beautiful story of a master carpenter. He was a house builder and every house he made was a masterpiece. The doors were strong, the windows opened to the winds from the east and west, the roof could withstand any storm, and you felt you were stepping into a temple every time you entered one of his houses. Passing years did not touch them, the seasons were gentle to them and they delighted in the elements rather than quiver in fright.
But he had made enough houses and wanted to retire and live the rest of his days in quietude. Though he had thoroughly enjoyed every house he had built, he had discovered the passion for building was no more in him. He wanted to take morning and evening walks, watch children at play, be with the kids that gamboled in the field, sing again the songs he had sung as a child, swim in rivers, climb mountains, enjoy passing breezes and just lie under the open sky. No more house building for me, he decided.
So he went to his master, the lord whose servant he was, and told him he would build no more houses. The master shook his head and said, “Build just one more house. A last one. And I shall ask you no more to build houses.”
Reluctantly the master carpenter agreed. But there was no passion for building houses in him anymore. There was no magic when he held his tools in his hand, no rush of energy. They felt heavy for the first time in his hand. He felt no thrill, his heart did not dance when he used the chisel and the hammer.
The house he built was unlike any he had built earlier. There was no joy in the house just as there was no joy in him when he built the house.
When he finished he came to his master, the lord, and told him it was done. And the lord knew there was no need to look at the house – the master carpenter had built it.
With a glowing smile on his face, with the glitter of joy in his eyes, he told the carpenter, “This house is my gift to you! It is an expression of my gratitude for all the houses you have built for me. Go, spend your remaining days in that house!”
And the master carpenter was condemned to live the rest of his days in that shabby house he had built without any love.
We too are like that carpenter. Each one of us is condemned to live in the world we make.
Kunti reminds Yudhishthira that if he is suffering, if he is living a life of grief and misery and making his brothers and Draupadi live such a life, it is because of himself. As the king it is his duty to practice dandaniti which includes punishing the wicked too, she reminds him, but instead of that he kept speaking of peace at all costs even when the enemies were trying to kill him and his brothers all means including poisoning and setting fire to their house. There were times when he should have taken up arms and fought, but he did not. She quotes a well known statement of the day that I have quoted innumerable times in my leadership training programmes:
kaalo vaa kaaranam raajnah raajaa vaa kaala-kaaranam; iti te samshayo maa bhoot raajaa kalasya kaaranam.
“Let there be no doubt in your mind as to whether the age makes the king or the king makes the age. The king makes the age.”
We hear Bhishma quoting the same verse to Yudhishthira again after the war has ended and he goes to Bhishma lying in the bed of arrows to learn from the grandsire the art of governance.
The king then is responsible for making the age good or bad. Satya yuga, treta yuga, dwapara yuga and kali yuga do not come in succession as is generally told, but the king – the leader – has the power to create them on earth. Kunti explains to Yudhishthira:
raajaa kritayuga-srashtaa tretaayaa dvaparasya cha yugasya cha chaturthasya raajaa bhavati kaaranam.
It is the king that creates kali yuga on earth, and it is he who creates treta, dwapara and satya yugas. He makes all the four ages.
If he implements dandaniti rightly, says Kunti, he creates satya yuga and if uses it with partial effectiveness, then the other two yugas are born. If he fails completely in practicing dandaniti, then the age of kali is born.
And then Kunti adds: tato vasati dushkarmaa narake shashvatees samaah. And then [when he creates the age of kali on earth], he lives in hell for an eternity.
Arjuna has just expressed his fear if he will not be thrown into hell for an eternity for killing his own people even if they are wicked, and Kunti here, in her message to Yudhishthira just before the war begins, says a king is sent to hell for an eternity for not punishing the wicked!
O0O
After these introductory words, Kunti tells Krishna the story of Vidula as her message to Yudhishtira. Vidula was the mother of a prince called Sanjaya [a name that means the winner!] who had been vanquished by his enemy, had psychologically accepted that defeat and was living a life of shame losing all his past glory. As we can see, Kunti who has been living in Hastinapura, as she says by looking up to her enemies even for the food she eats, is in the same position as Vidula and we must look upon Vidula’s words to Sanjaya as Kunti’s words to Yudhishthira. Fearless is the mother here, whether she is Vidula or Kunti, and her words give us goose bumps as we listen to them.
Kuinti’s words hit us with power of a thunderbolt. She says:
“You who increase the joys of your enemies, you are not my son! You are neither my son nor your father’s. Where have you come from? You with no anger in you, no thirst for vengeance, you cannot be counted a man. You look like a man and yet you are not a man – so what are you? A eunuch, that’s what you are!
“You have no right to sink into despair so long as you live, you coward! If you wish your own welfare, accept the burden of your challenges on your own shoulders.
“Don’t be a shame on your soul.  Never be satisfied with little. Fix your mind on your own good and don’t be scared. Abandon your fears! Rise, coward, rise! Don’t you lie down accepting your defeat, delighting your enemies and making your friends grieve. Don’t you have any sense of honour?
“Tiny streams are filled with a little water. The palms of a mouse are filled with little. And so does a coward become satisfied with little!
“Pull out the fangs of a deadly snake and die doing so – that’s honourable. Don’t you die like a miserable dog! Exerting your utmost, risk your very life and do all you can to be victorious! Be like the eagle in the vast sky that soars high and wanders infinite spaces. Keep your eyes on your enemies for the opportune moment and strike fearlessly!
“You are lying there as though you are but a lifeless body. Have you been struck by lightning? Rise up, coward! Aren’t you ashamed to sleep after you have been vanquished by your enemy? Why are you miserably hiding from the sight of all? Let the world know you by your deeds. Never be contented with anything less than the highest position. Nothing less than the best should satisfy you! Be a winner, be the very best, be the first! Don’t you be satisfied by being the second or the third or anything less.
“Be like the Tinduka wood! Blaze up! Blaze up even if it is only for one moment! Don’t smolder like chaff without flames! Cultivate your desires! Ignite them! Nourish their fire! And achieve glory!”
Kunti has only contempt for the kind of ahimsa that Yudhishthira speaks of and practices. That is not the way of kshatriyas, she says. She reminds him kshatriyas are an acursed lot, condemned to live by cruelty – by kroora karma. To kill and slaughter for praja paripalana, for looking after his subjects, is a kshatriya’s lot. To punish the wicked, if necessary with the ultimate punishment – that is the way of kshatriyas, kings. That is what he is born for, that is what the creator fashioned him for and for that reason that is how he should live.
Kunti’s advice to Yudhishthira and the story of Vidula she tells him are long – it runs into several chapters of the Udyoga Parva of the Mahabharata. But she did not foresee her son Arjuna would need the message as much as Yudhishthira needed it. Because Arjuna was a winner, the very epitome of winners. When he was born, the gods had predicted that Arjuna together with Bhima would vanquish all the Kauravas and shake up the whole world.  With the help of Krishna, he would slaughter his enemies in war and will achieve victory over the entire earth. His fame would reach the very skies.
So she did not foresee Arjuna would need her message as much as Yudhishthira needed. She did have a few words for him, though. And those few words are unforgettable. The essence of what this winning mother had to tell him was, “draupadyaah padaveem chara.” Follow the path of Draupadi. Follow the path that Draupadi treads, follow the path that she shows.
Kunti and Draupadi had an amazing relationship between them. They were the ideal mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, unlike the saas-bahu relationship we see in television serials today. They were twin souls.
And just as they were twin souls, Krishna and Draupadi too were twin souls too, says Indian culture – if anything, more twin souls than Kunti and Draupadi. They were one single entity, Krishna and Krishnaa were, born in two bodies, one male and the other female, but a single soul, born for the same purpose: the destroy adharma, to destroy the kshatriyas who had turned evil, and to reestablish dharma, virtues ways  of living and leading, says Indian culture.
Kunti says her grief is not about the failure in the dice game or the kingdom being stolen from them. It is not about her sons being sent to the forest on the exile. What she grieves over are the merciless words Draupadi had to hear from Duryodhana while she wept in agony and shame in the royal dice hall. 
Kunti wants Krishna to remind her sons the most hurting incident in their entire life. And she tells Krishna to tell Bhima and Arjuna: yadartham kshatriyaa soote tasya kalo’yam aagatah. Time has come for that for which a kshatriya woman gives birth to sons.   Powerful words that ask her sons to be victorious in battle or to die the death of heroes.
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Our deep buried traumas attack us in our weakest moments. Born of our psychological reactions to threatening real life experiences, they are like wayside robbers that attack us in our weary moments and loot us of everything we have. A single powerful traumatic experience can destroy our life. I have heard about a brilliant surgeon who was the best in his field but whose hands started shivering the moment he picked up a scalpel. What happened was that when he was a student one of the professors in the medical college was demonstrating a surgical procedure. The professor asked him to fetch a particular scalpel and he brought the wrong number. The professor shouted at him calling him an idiot, a good for nothing and said he would never amount to anything – he said this in the presence of the other students, several boys and girls, who were watching the demonstration as he was. He humiliation and insult he felt became a powerful traumatic experience. As a surgeon, every time he touched a scalpel, he heard the professor’s words from deep within him, “Idiot, good for nothing, you’d never amount to anything!” and his hands started shaking.
That’s the power of a single traumatic experience.
I have read about a girl whose left arm became paralyzed because one day while she was sitting at the dining table along with some of her friends, her father picked up a fork and threw it at her hitting that arm. He was angry at her for some small thing but that humiliation in the presence of her friends paralyzed her left arm for twenty years until she was healed of the trauma by a therapist.
Arjuna’s whole life is filled with traumatic experiences. He had grown up knowing that he is not the son of his father Pandu. That Pandu couldn’t have children and all his children were born through niyoga was not a secret to anyone. Then his father had failed to control himself and had sex with his wife Madri and died in the final moments of the act – on Arjuna’s birthday while Kunti was serving a feast to brahmanas. Pandu’s act was a kind of suicide because he knew sex would be death for him and yet he had given himself to it. Following Pandu’s death, Madri had committed ritual suicide by entering his funeral pyre. The years he lived in Hastinapura as unwanted cousins hated by Duryodhana were not happy years at al during which innumerable attempts were made on their life and they had to live in constant fear. And then there was the lacquer house incident, their escape and subsequent life in the forest for several years. And perhaps the most traumatic of all incidents – what happened to them in the dice hall and what was done to Draupadi there.  He had to live as a eunuch in the Virata palace, and more than that, he had to endure the shame of having to watch the glorious Draupadi living as a maid to the Virata queen. 
The list of traumatic experiences that fills Arjuna’s life is endless, any single one of which is enough to destroy a man. It is no less than a miracle that in spite of all this he not only survived but flourished and became the winner he became.
But traumas can strike us in our most vulnerable moments, which is what happened to Arjuna as he stood between the two armies and watched his grandfather, his guru and others standing on the opposite side whom he will have to kill in battle.
As we shall see when we journey into the Gita further, Krishna begins by giving him a shock treatment, which is one of the ways of shaking up people deep in traumas out of their helplessness and awakening them to reality. When Kunti sends her message to Yudhishthira and her other sons, what she does is no less than a shock treatment. Sometimes that is the only way to bring people out of their apathy that traumas push them into. It is interesting that Krishna attacks Arjuna as he begins his teaching by calling him a kleeba [eunuch, which was a shocking term of abuse for a warrior in the Mahabharata times] and Kunti uses the same term for Yudhishthira at the beginning of her message to wake him up from his apathy.
What Kunti is teaching Yudhishthira and her other sons through her message is the winning mindset. And what Krishna teaches Arjuna through the Gita too is the same: how to be a winner. Of course, a winner in a still higher sense than what Kunti means. Kunti sees things through a mother’s eyes, while Krishna sees things through God’s eyes.
Krishna wouldn’t let his friend be a loser. On one occasion in the epic, Krishna says such is his friendship with Arjuna that he would pull out his very flesh and give it for his sake. How can he then let Arjuna act like a loser as he is doing now?      
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Living Bhagavad Gita 19: The Religion of the Upanishads



A series of short articles on the Bhagavad Gita for people living and working in our volatile, uncertain, complex and ambiguous times filled with stress and fear. This scripture born in a battlefield teaches us how to face our challenges, live our life fully, achieve excellence in whatever we do and find happiness, peace and contentment.

[Continued from the previous post.]

When families are destroyed, timeless family traditions are destroyed. And when that happens, families plunge into lawlessness. And with families plunging into lawlessness, women become corrupt. And when women become corrupt, Krishna, varna sankara results. Varna sankara [the intermixture of varnas] leads to hell both those who destroy the families and the families themselves. Deprived of the offerings of water and food, the spirits of the ancestors fall. By these evil deeds of those who destroy families, causing confusion of varnas, the eternal dharmas of families and castes are destroyed. BG 1.40-43  
The religion of the Upanishadsis very different from religion as we commonly know it. It is a religion that takes us straight to the very heartof spiritual seeking. They tell us what the only way worth living is. They show us the only way to end all bondage and achieve ultimate freedom. They show us the path to reach the goal all humanity is pursuing, consciously or unconsciously. And they do not beat about the bush when they do this.  
The Upanishads do not give much importance to rituals. The term Upanishads use for rituals is ishta. Ishta comes from the same root word from which ishti comes and as is well known, ishti means Vedic rituals like putrakameshti. The word ishtika, another word of common origin, means bricks and it is because all vedic sacrifices are performed in vedis or kundas [sacrificial pits] made of bricks that they are all called ishtis or ishtas.
They speak of rituals as the lowest form of religion. Some of them openly reject rituals altogether so that people climb to the true heights of spirituality without getting trapped in the lower world of the religion of the rituals.For instance, the Maitreyi Upanishad says “The real temple is the body wherein resides the living soul, jeeva, the one and only Shiva” The Upanishad arranges sadhanas in a hierarchical order and says the best spiritual practice is meditation on the truth [uttamaa tattvachintaiva], then comes the analysis of the scriptures as the mediocre way [madhyamam shaastra-chintanam] and the lowest is the preoccupation with mantras [adhamaa mantrachintaa cha – repetition of the mantras, mantrajapa]. But there is one thing that is worse than the lowest – endlessly roaming from one pilgrimage site to another [teertha-bhraanti adhamaa-adhamaa].
Let me talk of one more mantra from the precious Upanishad to make the spirit of the Upanishads clear before we move on.
paashaana-loha-mani-mrinmaya-vigraheshu
poojaapunar-janana-bhogakareemumukshoh
tasmaadyatihswahridaya-archanamevakuryaad
baahyaarchanampariharedaounar-bhavaaya
Worshipping idols of stone, metal, jewels, crystals and clay will lead the seeker only to repeated births in the world of bondage. For that reason, if he wants liberation, freedom from the cycle of births and deaths, the committed seeker should offer worship in his own heart and abandon external worship.     
What the Gita teaches is the religion of the Upanishads. The Bhagavad Gita is the essence of the Upanishads retold by Krishna for the modern man – of his day and of today. One of the dhyana shlokas of the Bhagavad Gita traditionally chanted before any study of the scripture begins says:
Sarvopanishado gaavah dogdhaa gopaala-nandanah
Paartho vatsah sudheer bhoktaa dugdham geetaamritam mahat
The Upanishads are all cows and Krishna is the milkman. Arjuna is the calf and intelligent men are those who get to drink the milk [of these cows]. And the milk itself is the supreme nectar called Gita.
So the Bhagavad Gita is the milk of the Upanishads.
A great modern teacher once said that religions begin with the profound spiritual experiences of great masters, but in the hands of their disciples, they are reduced to philosophy and over generations of these disciples they end up as mere rituals, by which time there is very little that is true religion or spirituality left in them.
But in spite of that, to the common man rituals mean much. In fact, for the vast majority of people, religion is nothing but rituals – the daily rituals you perform at home, the rituals performed in places of worship, the ones performed on special occasions like birth, marriage and death, rituals performed as part of religious festivals and so on. When Arjuna says the ancestral spirits [pitarah] shall fall from their worlds when varna sankara takes place because they then will not get the offerings of water and food offered to them through rituals [lubdha-pindodaka-kriyaah], he is referring to rituals like shraaddhas and so on. Let’s now take a look at this argument he forwards as a reason for abandoning his duty as a kshatriya and running away from the battle for dharma leaving power over people in the hands of those who believe in power for the sake of power and not for the good of people.
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Nga Nyo and Ba Saing were two poor twenty years old friends who lived in a Burmese village called Chaungo who made a living by selling betel leaves. One day Ba Saing borrowed some rice from Nga Nyo but was bitten by a snake and died before he could return the rice. This happened sometime between 1270 and 1280 of the Burmese Era, corresponding to the beginning of 20th century CE.
Sang was now reborn in Nyo’s house, perhaps because his dying thoughts were of the rice he had borrowed from his friend and not returned. He was born not as a human being though, but as a cockerel and Nyo trained it in cock fighting. The cock won its first three fights, but lost the fourth fight and in anger Nyo brutally dashed its head on the ground holding it by its legs. Carrying the dying cock home, he threw it down near a water pot, where his cow came and touched it gently by its lips.
The affection of the cow apparently touched the dying cock deeply. After his death as a cock, Saing was reborn as a calf to this cow. His tragedy doesn’t end here either. When the calf was a year or so old, Nyo sold it to four of his friends who butchered it and cut up the meat in preparation for a feast, which Nyo himself was to join. A clerk from the nearby town and his wife happened to pass by them at that time and the woman, looking at the calf being cut up, said she wouldn’t have slaughtered it so cruelly had it been their calf. “Even if it had died a natural death,” she added, “I wouldn't have the heart to eat its meat. I would just bury it."
The calf is now reborn as the child of this couple. He remains without speaking until the age of seven, perhaps because of the pain of his previous life experiences which he still remembers. One day his father tells him that it was his payday and he will bring some fresh clothes for him, but he must speak. That evening the father comes home from office with pretty clothes for his son. And for the first time in his life the child speaks. His first words were, “Pay back Nga Nyo’s measure of rice.”
When the father agrees he would do anything for him, pay back not just a measure of rice but a whole bag if necessary, the boy tells him in that case they should go to Nyo and settle the debt immediately.
Guided by their seven-year-old son at each step, the father reaches Nga Nyo’shome, carrying with him a bag of rice in a cart. Instantly recognizing Nga Nyo and delighted at seeing his old friend who is by now an elderly man, the boy asks him, "Hey Nga Nyo, don’t you remember me?" The elderly man is offended when he is thus addressed by his name by a mere childbut is pacified when the clerk explained that the child believes he is old friend of Nyo.
The boy then tells Nyo that he is actually his old friend Ba Saing. He recalls several of their experiences together when they betel sellers and explains how he had died by snake bite and had been reborn as a cockerel in his house. He recalls the cockfights and Nyo’s killing the cockerel in anger and his subsequent birth as a calf because of the kindness a cow had shown him. Saing then recalls to a by now silently weeping Nyo how he was butchered as a one year old heifer to be eaten in a feast by him and his friends. He recalls the compassionate words of his present mother to the dying heifer as a result of which he was born as their child, adding that he has come to repay the rice he had borrowed from him as Ba Saing.
As the Bhagavad Gita says, death is the individual leaving one body to move on to another – in the words of the Gita, like discarding old clothes and using fresh ones. It is something that happens to all of us – jaatasya hi dhruvo mrityuh. And just as death is certain to the living,it is equally certain that everyone who dies is reborn – dhruvam janma mritasya cha.
This cycle of birth, life and death, and again birth, life and death goes on and on endlessly. Because of what happens between death and rebirth, because of the trauma of the life in the womb [which the west does not accept as painful but considers the most blissful state] and the trauma of the process of the birth itself [which the west accepts], most of us do not remember our past lifetimes. It is only rare individuals who escape this vismarana, the erasing of the memory oftheir past existences, though people who remember their past existences in their childhood are not as rare as we would like to believe. For instance, lots of children in their moments of great fear, like during a nightmare, scream for their father or mother but fail to recognise them when they come running and continue screaming and looking for their mother or father as was portrayed frighteningly in the movie The Reincarnation of Audrey Rose. Even in the case of people who retain these memories, practically all of them lose those memories over time.  Nga Nyo seems to be a rare individual who retains these memories.
Speaking to Arjuna in the Gita, Krishna tells his friend that both of them have had numerous lives in the past and he remembers them all though Arjuna does not:
bahooni me vyateetaani janmaani tava cha arjuna
taany aham veda sarvaani na twam vettha parantapa BG 4.5
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As we saw in the Burmese story above, after Ba Saing is killed by snakebite he is immediately reborn as Nga Nyo’s cockerel – there does not seem to have been much time gap.  And after the cockerel is killed by Ba Saing, it is soon reborn again as a calf – again without much time gap. And then after the calf is slaughtered, it is reborn as the son of the clerk while Ba Saing is still alive, though by now he has grown old. All the four life times of Ba Saing happen within a single life time of Nnga Nyo.
In the Mahabharata we have the story of Princess Amba of Kashi who kills herself in a ritual fire she ignited with the desire to be reborn as Bhishma’s killer. She is subsequently reborn as Drupada’s daughter Shikhandini while Bhishma is still alive.
The Padma Purana tells us that the washer man who criticises Rama for keeping in his house Sita who has lived in ‘Ravana’s house’ was in his previous life one of a pair of birds whom Sita in her childhood had separated from its mate. The bird kills itself after cursing that it would soon be reborn and will cause Sita’s separation from her husband in that life.    
The understanding of India’s epics and Puranas, as well that of other scriptures, is that rebirths happen is fairly quick succession and the bodiless state, the state between death and rebirth, is usually not long.
One of the books that talks most authentically about death and explains what happens in the moments of death and immediately afterwards is the very unusual book called The Tibetan Book of the Dead or Bardo Thodol, authored by Tibet’s great Yogi Padmasambhava about a thousand years ago and first translated into English in 1924 by W.Y. Evans Wentz and published with an introduction by Dr Carl Jung. It is a book based on the experiences of great yogis who die consciously, live in the post-death state consciously and then take birth consciously. The book discusses what happens to us immediately before death, during the moments of death and following death. It describes in great detail the experiences the bodiless individual undergoes during the first forty-eight days after death. Bardo Thodol stops with the forty-eighth day because practically all dead individuals find a new body to be reborn into by then. The book describes how the dead individual searches for an appropriate body and chooses one among the available ones according to his karmas – his driving psychological needs – and enters it to be reborn again.
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Let’s now look at a case of reincarnation from the western world discussed by Rosemary Ellen Guiley in her Tales of Reincarnation – that of Gail Bartley, an attractive young woman who worked as an advertising professional in New York. Let me reproduce here part of an article of mine called Reincarnation, Transactional Analysis and Karma [available online] in which I discuss her case as narrated by Guiley.
“Soon after her marriage ended in divorce, she fell in love with Roger. As an advertising executive she had ample opportunities for meeting other attractive young men, she did not really like Roger, her mother took an instant dislike for him and a voice in Gail’s head kept screaming all the time, ‘Get away. He hates you. He is trying to destroy you!’ In spite of all these Gail felt irresistibly drawn toward Roger. And he abused her constantly, hurt her emotionally and did not hesitate to beat her up occasionally; once he even tried to choke her to death during one of the fairly frequent violent outbursts between them. The relationship had wrecked her personal life, drained her emotionally, destroyed her self-esteem. However, in spite of all this, Gail found herself unable to get away from the man – and she completely failed to understand her love-hate relationship with this man, as did the other people around her. 
“It was this riddle of her relationship with Roger that eventually sent her to a past life regressionist. Upon regression, reaching her first past life experience, Gail found herself standing in a bedroom with high ceilings. She was now a twenty-three year old woman called Joyce in the 1920s. The experience, completely new to Joyce, was strange and eerie: she was at once the woman Joyce and Gail, who was watching her. Gail experienced that Joyce was shaking with fear, fear caused by a man who was with her in the room, lying on their bed – and that man was none other than Joyce’ s husband and the man Gail knew as Roger.
“And then Gail experienced the man getting up from their bed and walking towards her. Joyce was now shaking in terror and Gail’s breathing changed as she watched it. She began to hyperventilate and the regressionist asked Gail what was happening and she told her the man was strangling her. Joyce fell on her knees at the violence of the attack and then collapsed on the ground as the man continued to throttle her. However, Joyce did not die. Before that could happen, the man released her throat and walked away, leaving her on the ground, struggling to breathe.
“In a later part of the regression, Gail once again felt Joyce’s terror. Joyce was in their room again, that same night, and she hears him approaching her, climbing the stairs leading to their room. As he comes near, she sees he has something in his hand, which he is hiding behind him. His eyes are cold and she breathes in the hatred that emanates from him.
‘He rips open her gown with the knife he was hiding behind him, and brutally stabs her with it. Gail feels choked, her breath escapes her and she realizes she is experiencing the last moments of her life as Joyce. Coming out her body and hovering in a corner of the room, Joyce watches what is happening. One of the things she witnesses is her husband’s utter shock at what he has done, his complete disbelief and intense remorse.
“Further regressions reveal a sad tale of revenge and guilt spanning across life times, centuries and continents. It all started in ancient Rome where Roger and Gail in a long ago lifetime lived as brothers. The two of them loved each other deeply and thoroughly enjoyed their life as Roman citizens. In her regression, Gail sees herself as the younger brother, a blond young man filled with raw energy and impatience to win a chariot race that is about to begin. The race begins and his chariot takes off like a storm, another chariot keeping abreast with him. And then the tragedy takes place. His chariot swerves violently, hits the other chariot, the man driving that chariot thrown off his balance and falls, his head hitting his own chariot wheel, causing an instant death. In the middle of his shock he realizes the saddest truth: the man killed by his mistake is none other than his beloved brother.
“This life follows a series of lifetimes revealed by the regression, in each the elder brother is violent and vengeful, and the younger brother, Gail of this lifetime, is his victim. In one of these, Gail is a boy of seventeen, George, who lived in the Old West of America with his ill tempered, hateful, domineering father and his mother who was terrified of him. On one occasion his father catches George with his girlfriend, a girl who had grown up with him as his playmate. The two were together in the barn and they were kissing and feeling each other. The father orders George back into the house and then rapes George’s girlfriend. One night the boy is asleep in his tent while camping out with his father in the wilderness. He wakes up hearing repeated dull thuds and realizes his father is digging something in the night. His father has been furious with him that evening about some small thing, maybe he hadn’t tied up the horses properly. Sudden realization comes: his father is digging a grave for him! And then the father hits him on the head with a shovel and he is dead and out of his body. He sees his father dragging his body to the pit he had dug and burying him in it.”
More regressions reveal more such lifetimes in each of which the elder brother who was killed in the accident is the violent aggressor and the younger brother his victim. They are born again and again, repeating their life pattern that is now more than two thousand years old. 
As this real life past life regression story too tells us, the dead does not live forever in some mysteriousdimension, but are born again and again, directed by their life scripts that India calls karmas. 
Dr Brian Weiss is today the most widely known authority on rebirth and past life regression in the western world who uses his knowledge and expertise for healing people from diseases which cannot be explained by causes in their current life. In his best seller books like Many LivesMany Masters and Through Time into Healing, he talks about people being born again and again and when regressed reliving their past lives. In his work too what we come across is every one of us being reborn after our death, as the Gita speaks of when it says jatasya hi dhruvo mrityuh dhruvam janma mritasya cha: Those who are born are certain to die and those who die are certain to be born again.
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Even though the Upanishads reject ritualism and the path the Bhagavad Gita teaches is not of rituals but of the yogas of bhakti, karma, jnana and so on, rituals do have their own beauty if you practice them with the right vision. For instance, bali and tarpana are offered to the dead ancestors  in the rituals of shraaddha. Shraaddhas are offerings made out of shraddhra for ones ancestors – love and reverence for them. They are also expressions of our gratitude and indebtedness to them – we wouldn’t have been born but for them. In that sense they are beautiful. But what Arjuna means when he says that when varna sankara happens these ancestors will fall from their worlds is that these ancestors are not reborn on earth but live permanently in another world where they are sustained by the tarpana we offer to them and would fall from there if tarpana is not offered by their children.
As the Gita says, to quote again verse 2.27 quoted earlier, jatasya hi dhruvo mrityuh dhruvam janma mritasya cha: those who are born are bound to die and those who die are bound to be reborn. If the ancestors are already born on earth and living their lives here as new individuals, with new identities, in new families, with new parents, then sending offerings for them into some other world does not make sense, apart from the question how something physical offered here can reach them in their world.
Shraadha rituals are exactly what the name says – expressions of our love, reverence and indebtedness to the dead. As far as sustenance in post-death existences is considered, what sustains us there is our own karmas and not what others do.
So Arjuna’s argument that the war will cause varna sankara and that will ultimately make our ancestors fall from their worlds does not hold water. That is yet another argument he gives for running away from the unhappy challenge he has to face in the battlefield.   
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