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Chapter 17 · Verse 24
🪈 Krishna speaks
Illustration for Chapter 17, Verse 24

तस्मादोमित्युदाहृत्य यज्ञदानतपःक्रियाः। प्रवर्तन्ते विधानोक्ताः सततं ब्रह्मवादिनाम्॥

tasmādomityudāhṛtya yajñadānatapaḥkriyāḥ | pravartante vidhānoktāḥ satataṁ brahmavādinām ||

Word by Word 9 words
तस्मात्
tad that smāt ablative, therefore

therefore, for that reason

ओम्
oṁ the sacred sound, Brahman

Om, the sacred syllable

इति
iti thus, the quote-marker

thus, saying this

उदाहृत्य
ud up, out ā towards hṛ to bring, to utter

having uttered, having spoken aloud

यज्ञदानतपःक्रियाः
yaj to worship, to sacrifice dā to give tap to be austere, to discipline kṛ to do, to perform

the acts of sacrifice, giving, and discipline

प्रवर्तन्ते
pra forth vṛt to turn, to set in motion

are begun, are set going

विधानोक्ताः
vi apart, in order dhā to lay down, to ordain vac to say, to declare

as laid down by the rule, ordained by scripture

सततम्
sa with tan to stretch, to continue

always, continually

ब्रह्मवादिनाम्
brahman the Boundless, the Absolute vad to speak, to declare in one who

of those who speak of Brahman, the knowers of Brahman

says: "Because of this, those who truly know always begin every act of sacrifice, every gift they give, and every discipline they keep by first saying 'Om' aloud, just as the old rule teaches. The sacred sound comes first, like ringing a bell before the prayer: it turns the heart toward the Boundless before the hands begin their work."

कथा

The Sound Before the Sacrifice

From the upanishad

Before the sun was fully up, the priests of the old forest hermitage were already awake, and the boy Nachiketa watched them from the edge of the clearing.

They were building the morning fire. One priest laid the sticks in a neat square. Another carried clarified butter in a copper spoon. A third held a small basket of grain to be offered. Everything was ready — the flames, the offerings, the gifts that would later be given to the poor who came to the gate.

Nachiketa expected the eldest priest to begin at once. Instead the old man stood very still, closed his eyes, and let a single sound roll out of him, slow and deep, filling the whole clearing.

"Om."

The birds seemed to pause. The fire-smoke hung straight up. Only after that long sound had faded did the priest pour the first spoon of butter into the flames.

Afterward Nachiketa ran to him. "Grandfather, why do you always make that sound first? The fire was ready. The grain was ready. Why wait?"

The priest smiled and sat on a flat stone, pulling the boy down beside him.

"Tell me," he said, "when your mother calls the whole family to eat, what does she do first?"

"She rings the little bell," said Nachiketa. "So everyone knows it is time, and stops what they were doing."

"Just so. 'Om' is the bell of the spirit. It is the oldest name of the Boundless, the One that holds up the sky and the river and you and me. When I say it, I am ringing a bell inside myself — calling my scattered thoughts home, telling them, 'Stop your wandering. Something sacred begins now.'"

He pointed to the steady flame.

"Anyone can light a fire. Anyone can pour butter and hand out grain. But the knowers of do something more. Before the sacrifice, before the gift, before the long discipline of the day, they speak that one sound — and the whole act is lifted up and pointed toward the Boundless, the way you turn a little boat to face the open sea before you push off."

Nachiketa was quiet. Then, very softly, almost to himself, he tried it.

"Om."

And the old priest, hearing the boy, nodded as though a second small fire had just been lit.

चिन्तनम्

Before you start something that matters — a meal, a kind act, a hard task — what small word or pause could you use to bring your wandering thoughts home and remind yourself why it matters?