Skip to content
Chapter 7 · Verse 27
🪈 Krishna speaks
Illustration for Chapter 7, Verse 27

इच्छाद्वेषसमुत्थेन द्वन्द्वमोहेन भारत। सर्वभूतानि सम्मोहं सर्गे यान्ति परन्तप॥

icchādveṣasamutthena dvandvamohena bhārata | sarvabhūtāni sammohaṁ sarge yānti parantapa ||

Word by Word 8 words
इच्छाद्वेषसमुत्थेन
iṣ to desire, to wish dviṣ to hate, to be averse sam together ud up sthā to rise, to arise

arising from desire and aversion

द्वन्द्वमोहेन
dvandva the pairs of opposites muh to be confused, to delude

by the delusion of the pairs of opposites

भारत
bharata descendant of Bharata

O descendant of Bharata, Arjuna

सर्वभूतानि
sarva all bhū to be, beings

all beings

सम्मोहम्
sam completely muh to be confused

into deep confusion, into delusion

सर्गे
sṛj to create, to bring forth

at birth, at the time of coming into being

यान्ति
yā to go

go, fall into

परन्तप
param enemy, the other tap to scorch, to burn

O scorcher of foes, Arjuna

says: ", two feelings rise up in us all the time — wanting and not-wanting, liking and disliking. From these grow all the pairs that pull us this way and that: hot and cold, pleasure and pain, win and lose. From the moment they are born, almost all beings get tossed about by these opposites and lose their way."

कथा

The Swing in the Temple Courtyard

An original story

The monsoon had washed the sky clean, and in the courtyard beside the Shrinathji temple in Nathdwara, the priests had hung a great flower-decked swing for the festival. Meera could not wait. She climbed onto the wooden seat, gripped the thick rope, and pushed off.

Up she soared — and oh, it was wonderful. The marble courtyard dropped away beneath her, the painted temple gate rushed up to meet her, the wind lifted her plaits straight out behind her. At the very top she felt like a bird, light and laughing.

Then down. Her stomach lurched. The ground swung up too fast and her hands clamped the rope so hard the fibres bit her palms. For one breath she was sure she would fall, and a cold thread of fear ran through her.

Up again — joy. Down again — fright. Up, down, up, down. Loving the high, dreading the low. By the time the swing slowed, Meera felt strangely tired, as if the back-and-forth had wrung something out of her.

Dadaji was sitting in the shade of the courtyard wall, his paint-stained fingers resting on his knees, watching her with a smile. She hopped off and flopped down beside him.

"Dadaji, the swing is the best thing and the scariest thing at the same time."

"Yes," he said. "And do you know, that swing is the whole world in one rope."

She looked at him sideways. "What do you mean?"

He pointed at her with his chin. "All your life, beta, two hands will push you back and forth like that. One is called Wanting. The other is called Not-Wanting. You will love this and hate that. You will chase the sweet and run from the bitter. Hot, cold. Praise, blame. Winning, losing. Up, down." He swung his hand gently to and fro. "Every person who has ever been born gets rocked between these two. That is just how the swing of life is built."

Meera watched the empty swing sway, slower and slower, until at last it hung perfectly still in the middle.

"But look," Dadaji said softly. "When it stops pushing and stops pulling, it rests right in the centre. That stillness — that is the quiet place inside us, behind all the wanting and the fearing. The Gita says the peaceful heart learns to live there, in the still centre, while the swing keeps swinging."

Meera looked at the motionless swing for a long moment. Then she reached up and, very gently, set it rocking again.

चिन्तनम्

Think of something you really wanted and something you really dreaded. How did each one pull at your feelings — and is there a calm place in you that watches both?