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Chapter 11 · Verse 51
🏹 Arjuna speaks
Illustration for Chapter 11, Verse 51

दृष्ट्वेदं मानुषं रूपं तव सौम्यं जनार्दन। इदानीमस्मि संवृत्तः सचेताः प्रकृतिं गतः॥

dṛṣṭvedaṁ mānuṣaṁ rūpaṁ tava saumyaṁ janārdana | idānīmasmi saṁvṛttaḥ sacetāḥ prakṛtiṁ gataḥ ||

Word by Word 13 words
दृष्ट्वा
dṛś to see ktvā having

having seen

इदम्
idam this

this

मानुषम्
manuṣ human, man

human

रूपम्
rūp to form, to appear

form, shape

तव
tva your

Your

सौम्यम्
saumya gentle, mild

gentle, pleasing

जनार्दन
jana people ardana one who stirs, who delights

O Janardana (Krishna, who moves the hearts of people)

इदानीम्
idānīm now

now

अस्मि
as to be

I am

संवृत्तः
sam fully vṛt to turn, to become

become settled, composed

सचेताः
sa with cetas mind, awareness

with my mind back, clear-headed

प्रकृतिम्
pra forth kṛ to make

to my own nature

गतः
gam to go ta one who has

gone, returned

breathes out at last. Seeing Your gentle human form again, Janardana, I am settled now. My mind has come back to me. I have returned to my own nature, to the steady, ordinary self I knew before the vision shook me. The fear has let go of him, and Arjuna is simply himself once more.

कथा

After the Storm

An original story

The thunderstorm had come fast over Madhubani — black clouds piling up, the sky cracking open, rain falling so hard the lane outside Nani's house turned to a brown river. Ravi had stood at the window the whole time, his heart knocking against his ribs, Moti the puppy pressed shivering against his ankles. Lightning had lit the whole world white. The thunder had sounded like something enormous walking across the rooftops.

He hadn't said he was scared. But Nani saw the way his shoulders had climbed up toward his ears, and the way he flinched at every flash.

Then, the way storms do, it ended.

Not slowly. All at once. The rain thinned to a patter, then to single drops, then to nothing. The thunder rolled away to somewhere else, grumbling, going. A bird tried out one wet note. Another answered. And then the sun pushed through a gap in the clouds and laid a warm yellow stripe right across the courtyard floor, steam rising off the wet stones.

Ravi felt it happen in his own body. His shoulders came down. The tight knot in his chest loosened, one cord at a time. He took a long breath — the first full breath in what felt like an hour — and let it out slowly. Moti felt it too; the puppy stopped shivering, gave a great shake from nose to tail, and trotted to the door wagging, ready for the world again.

"There you are," Nani said, watching him. "You've come back."

"I'm okay now," Ravi said, and was surprised to find it was completely true. He stepped out into the bright, dripping courtyard. Everything looked washed and new — the marigolds heavy with water, the sky scrubbed pale blue. He was just Ravi again, in his ordinary courtyard, on an ordinary afternoon. The enormous, frightening thing had passed over him and gone, and left him exactly himself.

That was in the chariot. He had seen the whole roaring universe, and it had shaken him to his bones. Now the gentle, familiar face of his friend was before him again. And like a boy after a storm, he let out his breath and felt his own steady heart return. "Now I am settled," he said. "I have come back to myself."

चिन्तनम्

Think of a time you felt your body relax after something stressful finally ended — your shoulders dropping, a long breath out. What does it feel like, in your own body, to 'come back to yourself'?