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Chapter 17 · Verse 11
🪈 Krishna speaks
Illustration for Chapter 17, Verse 11

अफलाकाङ्क्षिभिर्यज्ञो विधिदृष्टो य इज्यते। यष्टव्यमेवेति मनः समाधाय स सात्त्विकः॥

aphalākāṅkṣibhiryajño vidhidṛṣṭo ya ijyate | yaṣṭavyameveti manaḥ samādhāya sa sāttvikaḥ ||

Word by Word 12 words
अफलाकाङ्क्षिभिः
a not, without phal to bear fruit, result ā towards kāṅkṣ to wish, to long for in one who

by those who do not long for any reward

यज्ञः
yaj to worship, to offer

sacrifice, worship, offering

विधिदृष्टः
vi apart dhā to place, to ordain vidhi rule, ordinance dṛś to see, to be laid down

according to the rule, as the scripture directs

यः
yad which, who

which, that which

इज्यते
yaj to worship, to offer te passive, is done

is offered, is performed

यष्टव्यम्
yaj to worship, to offer tavya ought to be

it ought to be offered, it is a duty to worship

एव
eva just, only, indeed

simply, just, only

इति
iti thus, that

thinking thus, with the thought

मनः
man to think manas mind

the mind

समाधाय
sam together ā towards dhā to place, to fix

having steadied, having focused

सः
tad that

that, it

सात्त्विकः
sat being, goodness tva -ness ika belonging to

of the nature of goodness, sattvic, pure

says: "When worship is offered the right way, just because it is the right thing to do, with the mind held steady and quiet, and with no hope of getting anything in return, that worship is pure and bright. It is sattvic." The heart simply does its duty and asks for no prize.

कथा

The Yajna That Asked For Nothing

From the mahabharata

There was once a king named Shvetaketu's father, the sage Uddalaka, though in this telling the people simply called him the Quiet King, because of how he held his great fire-sacrifice.

In those days, kings held grand yajnas for all sorts of reasons. Some wanted rain. Some wanted sons. Some wanted to defeat a rival, or to be praised as the most generous ruler in the land. The fire would blaze, the priests would chant, the ghee would pour — and behind every offering sat a wish, sharp and hungry: give me this, give me that.

The Quiet King's was different, and people travelled far to see it.

He built the altar exactly as the old rule directed — not one brick out of place, the measurements true, the chants in their proper order, nothing skipped, nothing shortened to save time. Watching him, you could tell he cared about doing it correctly, the way a careful person threads a needle.

But when the priests asked him, before the fire was lit, "Great King, what shall we ask the gods to grant you? Victory? Long life? Wealth?" — the king only smiled and shook his head.

"Ask for nothing," he said.

The priests blinked. "Nothing, lord? Then why hold the sacrifice at all?"

The king knelt by the fire and let its warmth touch his face. His mind was calm and gathered, like a still lake at dawn with no wind on it.

"Because it is right to offer," he said simply. "The sun does not rise to be thanked. The river does not flow to be paid. I offer this fire because offering is a good and proper thing to do, and that is enough. If I do it to get something, I have turned worship into a marketplace. Let it be clean. Let it ask for nothing."

And so the fire was lit. The chants rose into the morning. The king sat perfectly still, his whole mind resting on the single thought — this ought to be done — wanting no prize at the end of it.

Long afterward, the sages said that of all the great sacrifices of that age, his was remembered as the purest. Not the largest. Not the most famous. The purest — because the man who offered it wanted nothing back.

चिन्तनम्

Can you think of a good thing you could do simply because it is right to do — not to be thanked, rewarded, or noticed? How would doing it feel different from doing it to get something?