Mandala Brahmana upanishad OM. The great Muni Yajnavalkya went to Aditya-Loka (the sun’s world) and saluting him (the Purusha of the Sun) said: “O Revered Sir, describe to me the Atman-Tattva (the Tattva or Truth of Atman).” (To which) Narayana (viz., the Purusha of the sun) replied: “I shall describe the eight- fold Yoga together with Jnana. The conquering of cold and heat as well as hunger and sleep, the preserving of (sweet) patience and unruffledness ever and the restraining of the organs (from sensual objects) - all these come under (or are) Yama. Devotion to one’s Guru, love of the true path, enjoyment of objects producing happiness, internal satisfaction, freedom from association, living in a retired place, the controlling of the Manas and the not longing after the fruits of actions and a state of Vairagya - all these constitute Niyama. The sitting in any posture pleasant to one and clothed in tatters (or bark) is prescribed for Asana (posture). Inspiration, restraint of breath and expiration, which have respectively 16, 64 and 32 (Matras) constitute Pranayama (restraint of breath). The restraining of the mind from the objects of senses is Pratyahara (subjugation of the senses). The contemplation of the oneness of consciousness in all objects is Dhyana. The mind having been drawn away from the objects of the senses, the fixing of the Chaitanya (consciousness) (on one alone) is Dharana. The forgetting of oneself in Dhyana is Samadhi. He who thus knows the eight subtle parts of Yoga attains salvation.

Tejo bindu upanishad 30. But it should be directed towards that seat (of Brahman) wherein the cessation of seer, the seen and sight will take place and not towards the tip of the nose. 31. That is called Pranayama (the control of breath), in which there is the control of the modifications (of mind) through the cognition of Brahman in all the states of Chitta and others. 32. The checking of (the conception of the reality of) the universe, is said to be expiration. The conception of ‘I am Brahman’ is inspiration. 33. The holding on (long) to this conception without agitation is cessation of breath. Such is the practice of the enlightened. 34. The ignorant close their nose. That should be known as Pratyahara, through which one sees Atman (even) in the objects of sense and pleases Chitta through Manas. It should be practised often and often. 35. Through seeing Brahman wherever the mind goes, the Dharana is meant that state where one indulges in the good thought: 36. ‘I am Brahman alone’, and is without any support. This Dhyana is the giver of supreme bliss. 37. Being first in a state of changelessness and then thoroughly forgetting (even) that state owing to the cognition of the (true) nature of Brahman - this is called Samadhi. 38. This kind of bliss should be practised (or enjoyed) by a wise person till his cognition itself united in a moment with the state of Pratyag (Atman).

Yoga Tattva upanishad 68-69(a). Let him practise Kevala Kumbhaka once a day. Drawing away completely the organs from the objects of sense during cessation of breath is called Pratyahara. 69(b). Whatever he sees with his eyes, let him consider as Atman. 70. Whatever he hears with his ears, let him consider as Atman. Whatever he smells with his nose, let him consider as Atman. 71. Whatever he tastes with his tongue, let him consider as Atman. Whatever the Yogin touches with his skin, let him consider as Atman. 72. The Yogin should thus unwearied gratify his organs of sense for a period of one Yama every day with great effort.

Shrimad Bhagavatam primul cant partea a treia sutra 54 One who has controlled the sitting postures [the yogic äsanas] and the breathing process can turn the senses toward the Absolute Personality of Godhead and thus become immune to the contaminations of the modes of material nature, namely mundane goodness, passion and ignorance. PURPORT The preliminary activities of the way of yoga are äsana, präëäyäma, pratyähära, dhyäna, dhäraëä, etc. Mahäräja Dhåtaräñöra was to attain success in those preliminary actions because he was seated in a sanctified place and was concentrating upon one objective, namely the Supreme Personality of Godhead (Hari). Thus all his senses were being engaged in the service of the Lord. This process directly helps the devotee to get freedom from the contaminations of the three material modes of nature. Even the highest mode, the material mode of goodness, is also a cause of material bondage, and what to speak of the other qualities, namely passion and ignorance. Passion and ignorance increase the material propensities of hankering for material enjoyment, and a strong sense of lust provokes the accumulation of wealth and power. One who has conquered these two base mentalities and has raised himself to the platform of goodness, which is full of knowledge and morality, cannot also control the senses, namely the eyes, the tongue, the nose, the ear and touch. But one who has surrendered himself unto the lotus feet of Lord Hari, as above mentioned, can transcend all influences of the modes of material nature and be fixed in the service of the Lord. The bhakti-yoga process, therefore, directly applies the senses to the loving service of the Lord. This prohibits the performer from engaging in material activities. This process of turning the senses from material attachment to the loving transcendental service of the Lord is called pratyähära, and the very process is called präëäyäma, ultimately ending in samädhi, or absorption in pleasing the Supreme Lord Hari by all means.

Shrimad Bhagavatam cântul al treilea partea a doua sutra 5 One must observe silence, acquire steadiness by practicing different yogic postures, control the breathing of the vital air, withdraw the senses from sense objects and thus concentrate the mind on the heart.

PURPORT The yogic practices in general and haöha-yoga in particular are not ends in themselves; they are means to the end of attaining steadiness. First one must be able to sit properly, and then the mind and attention will become steady enough for practicing yoga. Gradually, one must control the circulation of vital air, and with such control he will be able to withdraw the senses from sense objects. In the previous verse it is stated that one must observe celibacy. The most important aspect of sense control is controlling sex life. That is called brahmacarya. By practicing the different sitting postures and controlling the vital air, one can control and restrain the senses from unrestricted sense enjoyment.

Hatha Yoga Pradipika 83. Through the process of sustained listening, this inner sound drowns the external sounds. The Yogin [who devotes himself to the Nada] overcomes all instability of mind in fifteen days, and becomes happy. Pratyahara or detachment is necessary to not hear the external sounds. It is done this way: imagine you hear something outside of yourself, determine what it is exactly, which activates your intellect, and from this powerful position, you decide to withdraw your attention from the external sound; you allow this withdrawal to occur and you aim your attention at the Nada sound, which you chose for.

Gherandha Samhita 10 -11 Voici donc ces sept disciplines : D'abord les six actes de purification (satkarman); puis les postures (âsana) qui permettent d'acquérir la stabilité, les gestes ou sceaux (mûdra) qui donnent la fermeté; le retrournement des sens (pratyâhâra) qui apporte la quiétude; viennent ensuite le contrôle de l'énergie du souffle (prânâyâma) assurant la légèreté; puis la contemplation (dhyâna) permettant la perception directe de la conscience de Soi (âtman); enfin l'enstase (samâdhi) donnant accès à l'émancipation et qui est, sans aucun doute, l'ultime libération. 4 Le retournement de l'activité sensorielle — Pratyâhâra — 1. Gheranda dit : Maintenant je vais fe parler de l'excellente discipline du pratyâhâra, lc retournement des sens vers le dedans, qui detruit le désir et toute autre passion. 2. Il s'agit de contrôler le mental, ou principe de la pensée, dès qu'il entre en activité. Sa nature etant instable et inconstante, il faut parvenir à le diriger précisement et à volonte vers la conscience intérieure du Soi en arrêtant ses vagabondages incessants. 3. Honneur, mépris, propos élogieux ou effrayants, toutes ces préoccupations sont à extirper du mental qui doit passer sous le contrôle exclusif du Moi profond, l'atman. 4. Toutes les odeurs, délicieuses ou puantes, sont des produits du mental destinés a le distraire. Il est donc nécessaire de pratiquer volontairemcnt le retrait des sens vers le dedans et de mettre le mental (manas) sous le strict controle de l'atman. 5. Par l'intermédiaire du mental on perçoit de même les saveurs fondamentales comme le sucre, l'acide, l'amer ou l'astringent. La pratique du pratyâhâra visera donc toujours à soumettre le mental au contrôle du Moi profond, l'atman. Tel est le quatrième enseignement de cette samhîtâ que donna Gheranda à Candakâpâli concernant le yoga physique et particulièrement le pratyâhâra.

II.54 sva-viæayâsamprayoge cittasya svarûpânukâra ivendriyâñâm pratyâhâraï sva = own viæaya = object (of experience), phenomenon asamprayoge = uncoupling cittasya = consciousness sva = own rûpa = form anukâra = imitation, following suit iva = like, thus, as it were indriyâñâm = sensory apparatus pratyâhâraï = withdrawal of the senses When consciousness interiorizes by uncoupling from external objects, the senses do likewise; this is called withdrawal of the senses.

II.55 tataï paramâ vaåyatendriyâñâm tataï = therefore, from these, from that paramâ = ultimate, highest, purest vaåyata = obedience, subservience indriyâñâm = sensory apparatus Then the senses reside utterly in the service of realization.

Aparokshaanubhuti 121. The absorption of the mind in the Supreme Consciousness by realizing Atman in all objects is known as Pratyahara (withdrawal of the mind) which should be practiced by the seekers after liberation. Shandilya Upanishad Then comes Pratyahara, which is of five kinds. It is the drawing away of the organs from attaching themselves to the objects of senses. Contemplating upon everything that one sees as Atman is Pratyahara. Renouncing the fruits of one's daily actions is Pratyahara. Turning away from all objects of sense is Pratyahara. Dharana in the eighteen important places (mentioned below) is Pratyahara, (viz.,) the feet, the toes, the ankles, the calves, the knees, the thighs, the anus, the penis, the navel, the heart, the well of the throat, the palate, the nose, the eyes, the middle of the brows, the forehead and the head in ascending and descending orders.

Yogachudamani upanishad Pratyahara is the state where sensory organs like the eye do not concern themselves with things outside but turn themselves inwards. 120

Similar to the Sun taking his rays inwards at the third period of dusk, the yogi who is in the third stage would control his mind. 121 În Shatapata Brahmana se spune primul cânt sutra 54 Cel care controlează postura și procesul respirator poate să își întoarcă simțurile către Dumnezeu devenind astfel imun la contaminarea lumii materiale, a pasiunii și ignoranței

Tehnică din Hatha Yoga Pradipika 83 Prin procesul ascultării susținute, în sunetul interior se dizolvă toate celelalte sunete. Yoghinul (care ascultă Nada) depășește orice instabilitate a minții în cinsprezece zile și devine fericit.

Gheranda capitolul 4 1.Acum vă voi vorbi despre practica deosebită a lui pratyāhāra, reîntoarcerea simțurilor înăuntru, care distruge dorința și orice altă pasiune 2.Yoghinul să aducă principiul gânditor sub controlul său, retrăgându-l spre interior ori de câte ori începe să rătăcească atras de diferitele obiecte ale simțurilor 3.Onoarea și dezonoarea, elogiile ori criticile, toate aceste preocupări trebuie să fie excluse din minte care trebuie să treacă sub controlul exclusiv al Sinelui, Atman. 4.De la mirosurile plăcute sau neplăcute, de la orice mireasmă care face ca mintea să fie distrasă ori atrasă, yoghinul să-și retragă mintea și să aducă principiul gânditor sub controlul lui atman 5. De la gustul dulce sau acru, de la amar sau astringent, de la orice savoare mintea ar putea să fie atrasă yoghinul trebuie să se retragă și să aducă simțurile sub controlul Sinelui.

Yoga Sutra 2.54 Când conștiința individuală se interiorizează decuplându-se de la obiectele exterioare, simțurile o urmează. Aceasta este numită retragerea simțurilor, Pratyāhāra 55 Atunci simțurile servesc starea cea mai înaltă de conștiință

Iyengar Light on Yoga Pratyahara If a man's reason succumbs to the pull of his senses he is lost. On the other hand, if there is rhythmic control of breath, the senses instead of running after external objects of desire turn inwards, and man is set free from their tyranny. This is the fifth stage of Yoga, namely, pratyahara, where the senses are brought under control. When this stage is reached, the sadhaka goes through a searching self-examination. To overcome the deadly but attractive spell of sensual objects, he needs the insulation of adoration (bhakti) by recalling to his mind the Creator who made the objects of his desire. He also needs the lamp of knowledge of his divine heritage. The mind, in truth, is for mankind the cause of bondage and liberation; it brings bondage if it is bound to the objects of desire and liberation when it is free from objects. There is bondage when the mind craves, grieves or is unhappy over something. The mind becomes pure when all desires and fears are annihilated. Both the good and the pleasant present themselves to men and prompt them to action. The yogi prefers the good to the pleasant. Others driven by their desires, prefer the pleasant to the good and miss the very purpose of life. The yogi feels joy in what he is. He knows how to stop and, therefore, lives in peace. At first he prefers that which is bitter as poison, but he perseveres in his practice knowing well that in the end it will become as sweet as nectar. Others hankering for the union of their senses with the objects of their desires, prefer that which at first seems sweet as nectar, but do not know that in the end it will be as bitter as poison. The yogi knows that the path towards satisfaction of the senses by sensual desires is broad, but that it leads to destruction and that there are many who follow it. The path of Yoga is like the sharp edge of a razor, narrow and difficult to tread, and there are few who find it. The yogi knows that the paths of ruin or of salvation lie within himself. According to Hindu philosophy, consciousness manifests in three different qualities. For man, his life and his consciousness, together with the entire cosmos are the emanations of one and the same prakrti (cosmic matter or substance) - emanations that differ in designation through the predominance of one of the gunas. The gunas (qualities or attributes) are: 1. Sattva (the illuminating, pure or good quality), which leads to clarity and mental serenity. 2. Rajas (the quality of mobility or activity), which makes a person active and energetic, tense and wilful, and 3. Tamas (the dark and restraining quality), which obstructs and counteracts the tendency of rajas to work and of sattva to reveal. Tamas is a quality of delusion, obscurity, inertia and ignorance. A person in whom it predominates is inert and plunged in a state of torpor. The quality of sattva leads towards the divine and tamas towards the demonic, while in between these two stands rajas. The faith held, the food consumed, the sacrifices performed, the austerities undergone and the gifts given by each individual vary in accordance with his predominating guna. He that is born with tendencies towards the divine is fearless and pure. He is generous and self-controlled. He pursues the study of the Self. He is non-violent, truthful and free from anger. He renounces the fruits of his labour, working only for the sake of work. He has a tranquil mind, with malice towards none and charity towards all, for he is free from craving. He is gentle, modest and steady. He is illumined, clement and resolute, being free from perfidy and pride. A man in whom rajo-guna predominates has inner thirst. As he is passionate and covetous, he hurts others. Being full of lust and hatred, envy and deceit, his desires are insatiable. He is unsteady, fickle and easily distracted as well as ambitious and acquisitive. He seeks the patronage of friends and has family pride. He shrinks from unpleasant things and clings to pleasant ones. His speech is sour and his stomach greedy. He that is born with demonic tendencies is deceitful, insolent and conceited. He is full of wrath, cruelty and ignorance. In such people there is neither purity, nor right conduct, nor truth. They gratify their passions. Bewildered by numerous desires, caught in the web of delusion, these addicts of sensual pleasures fall into hell. The working of the mind of persons with different predominating gunas may be illustrated by their different ways. of approach towards a universal commandment like 'Thou shalt not covet.' A man in whom tamo-guDa predominates might interpret it thus: 'others should not covet what is mine, no matter how I obtained it. If they do, I shall destroy them.' The rajo-guna type is a calculating self-interested person who would construe the commandment as meaning: 'I will not covet others' goods lest they covet mine.' He will follow the letter of the law as a matter of policy, but not the true spirit of the law as a matter of principle. A person of sattvika temperament will follow both the letter and the spirit of the precept as a matter of principle and not of policy, as a matter of eternal value. He will be righteous for the sake of righteousness alone, and not because there is a human law imposing punishment to keep him honest. The yogi who is also human is affected by these three gunas. By his constant and disciplined study (abhyasa) of himself and of the objects which his senses tend to pursue, he learns which thoughts, words and actions are prompted by tamas and which by rajas. With unceasing effort he weeds out and eradicates such thoughts and he works to achieve a sattvika frame of mind, When the sattva-guna alone remains, the human soul has advanced a long way towards the ultimate goal. Like unto the pull of gravity is the pull of the gunas, As intensive research and rigorous discipline are needed to experience the wonder of weightlessness in space, so also a searching self-examination and the discipline furnished by Yoga is needed by a sadhaka to experience union with the Creator of space when he is freed from the pull of the gunas. Once the sadhaka has experienced the fullness of creation or of the Creator, his thirst (trsna) for objects of sense vanishes and he looks at them ever after with dispassion (vairagya). He experiences no disquiet in heat or cold, in pain or pleasure, in honour or dishonour and in virtue or vice. He treats the two imposters - triumph and disaster with equanimity. He has emancipated himself from these pairs of opposites. He has passed beyond the pull of the gunas and has become a gunatita (one who has transcended the gunas). He is then free from birth and death, from pain and sorrow and becomes immortal. He has no self-identity as he lives experiencing the fullness of the Universal Soul. Such a man, scorning nothing, leads all things to the path of perfection.

Satyananda YONI MUDRA Yoni or shanmukhi mudra (the psychic source mudra) Sit in any comfortable meditative asana, preferably padmasana or siddhasana. Inhale slowly and deeply. Retain the breath. Close the ears with the thumbs, the eyes with the index, fingers, the, nostrils with the middle fingers and place the ring and small fingers above and below the lips to close the mouth. While still retaining the breath inside, concentrate on bindu chakra. Try to perceive any manifestations of sound. After holding the breath for as long as is comfortable, remove the pressure of the middle fingers against the nostrils and exhale. Keep the other fingers in place. Inhale again, and at the end of the inhalation close the nostrils with the two middle fingers. Continue this same process. For illustration see baddha yoni asana. Duration For as long as the practitioner has time available. Concentration On bindu chakra. Benefits This is a powerful practice for withdrawing the mind from association with sense objects (pratyahara). The source of the entire universe is primordial, unbeaten sound or vibration. This mudra attempts to take the consciousness of the practitioner through all the different manifestations of sound until the most subtle of sounds can be experienced. It stimulates awareness of psychic sounds which emanate from bindu chakra in the back of the head. Note This is really a technique of nada yoga.

Pashinee mudra (the folded mudra) Simple form Assume halasana. Separate the feet by about half a meter. Bend the legs at the knees and bring the thighs toward the chest until the knees simultaneously touch the ears, shoulders and the floor. Wrap the arms tightly around the back of the legs and the head. Breathe deeply and slowly. Concentrate on manipura chakra. Maintain for as long as possible without discomfort. Advanced-form Perform dwi pada kandharasana. Relax the whole body as much as possible and close the eyes. Breathe deeply and slowly. Concentrate on manipura chakra. Precautions Do not strain the back muscles. Benefits Brings balance and tranquility to the nervous system, thereby inducing pratyahara. Stretches the back muscles and stimulates all the spinal nerves in and around the spine. The whole body is thereby influenced and made more healthy. Massages all the abdominal organs and tones the sexual organs.

Krishnananda The study and practice of yoga vol 2 Chapter 80 PRATYAHARA: THE RETURN OF ENERGY

When the inclination for concentration arises in the mind, a great change will be felt in one’s own self. A new type of mood will rise within, and it will look like the whole world is changing its colours and relations. There will be a total confirmation of the nature of one’s feelings when this inclination to concentration arises in the mind. We have to bear in mind the importance of this sutra, dhāraṇāsu ca yogyatā manasaḥ (II.53), which means that there should be the mind’s preparedness or readiness for concentration, as a mere pressure of the will cannot bring about concentration.

Every stage of yoga, every step in its practice, is a healthful growth and not any kind of pressurisation from any source. Therefore, it is a very gradual ascent because the natural inclination does not arise quickly, due to the presence of other impressions in the mind. So, if we properly bear in mind the significance of the earlier steps mentioned—right from yama onwards, up to pranayama—we will be able to understand the types of preparation that we have to make for this readiness of the mind to concentrate. Most of us are not ready for concentration, and if we ask the mind to concentrate when it is not prepared, how will we take to that practice? We cannot even take our meal when the stomach is not ready for it. Nothing can be done when the system is not prepared. Neither can we walk, nor can we sleep, nor can we eat, nor can we speak if we are not ready for these things. For every action, function or conduct, there should be a readiness of the system—a preparedness, a mood, a tendency, an inclination.

While this is so in the case of various other functions of life, it is much more so in the case of concentration where the readiness is not expected merely from one part or aspect of the system, but from the total system. How is it possible that everyone will agree to a single point? Rarely is this found. The majority may agree; the minority may not agree. But, here, we do not want a majority merely. The total group of the forces of the system should be ready. The whole army should be up for action; not one soldier should malinger. Not one cell in the body should be reluctant. Such is what is called the preparedness for meditation. If the intellect is ready, the emotion is not ready. If the emotion is prepared, the intellect is not understanding. If both are ready, the will is not working. If everything is okay, we are sick. If this is the case, how will we meditate?

It is difficult to find all things working together. This is a great difficulty, indeed. What can be called a difficulty in life, if not this? If everything went well, we would be in heaven by this very moment—but, unfortunately, this does not happen. Something or other will not click properly, and then the machine will not move. But it has to move and everything has to click in an orderly, spontaneous manner—that too, not by force or pressure. See how many conditions are laid. Everything has to be prepared. Body, mind and spirit are all together in preparedness for action—in completeness, in full force of aspiration; that is one thing. The other thing is that it should be free from pressure. We may not take a drug to cause a readiness of the system for meditation, because then the system is not ready—we are whipping it. Whipping cannot be called ready. If we give a blow to the horse which is unable to pull the cart, it jumps up due to the whipping, but do we call it spontaneous action? The result would be that the cart is turned upside down due to the kick given in resentment by the horse. If we apply force with a drug or any kind of stimulant—even a forced will is a kind of stimulant only, and even such stimulants are not allowed. If we apply these vacuum brakes to a fast-moving train, there will be catastrophe following. Therefore, ‘yogata’ is the term used very wisely by Patanjali. Yogata means that there should be fitness for concentration. Are we fit? What is the meaning of ‘fitness’? Are we spontaneous in our action? That is one question. Or are we being compelled by somebody? If there is a motive of compulsion that is behind the sitting for meditation, there will be a counter-urge of the mind to come back to its original position from where it started. If we are forced to work in an office, we know how long we will work. We will be looking for the first opportunity to get out from that place. As early as possible we want to be out when the pressurising influence is lifted. Also, the quality of work falls because of the pressure. Quantity is less, and quality is nil; this will happen in meditation if we force it.

Hence, there should be a willingness on our part due to the satisfaction we feel on account of the recognition of the value of the step that we are taking. First of all, it is difficult to see the value, whatever be our aspiration. We cannot recognise or visualise the entire value of meditation, because if the entire value is seen, it would be unthinkable how the mind can come back from that. How could we explain the mind coming back from a resourceful treasure which it has dug up and possessed? But it is unable to recognise the value. It is like a monkey seeing a huge treasure trove; it does not know the worth of it. It is simply like a huge weight of material; it has no meaning. Likewise would be the attitude of an unprepared mind, and there would be, therefore, a consequent repulsion. There would be no yogata, or preparedness.

Svaviṣaya asaṁprayoge cittasya svarūpānukāraḥ iva indriyāṇāṁ pratyāhāraḥ (II.54). When this significance or value in the object of meditation is properly recognised, there is an automatic disconnection of the senses from their objects. The vehicle of the object is severed from its relation with the engine, which is the senses, and then the objects will not move, because there is no movement of the senses in respect of the objects. ‘Vavisaya asamprayoge’ is the term used in the sutra defining pratyahara, which is the beginning step of the central court of yoga. It is the severance of the senses from contact with objects, which is something very strange indeed, because it is not easy to understand the meaning of ‘contact’. Contact is different from the union that is the aim of yoga. The ultimate purpose of yoga is a kind of merger of consciousness in the object which it contemplates. That is the true union that is aspired for. But the senses, when they contemplate an object, are not supposed to be in union with the object; this is the difference. If the senses are in union, what is it that we are trying to do by severing them from the objects? There is no union of the senses with their object when they are contacting it.

‘Contact’ and ‘union’ are two different things. When sunlight falls on a pot kept outside in the sun, the pot is illumined by the light of the sun and so we are able to visualise the presence of the pot in the sun. The pot shines on account of the light that has fallen upon it, and becomes one with it, almost. We cannot separate the light of the sun from the pot on which it has fallen and which it illumines. Nevertheless, we know that the light has never become the pot; it is quite different from the pot or the object which it illumines. Can we say that the light of the sun has entered the pot and become one with it in union? No, not at all. There is only a contact—though it may look like an inseparable contact, which is really the case. So intimately is the contact of the light with the object that we cannot differentiate one from the other.

We begin to say that the pot is shining; this is what we generally say. What is shining is the light, not the pot. But the identity is such, apparently, that it looks that the object itself is shining, and so we are able to perceive the presence of the object in the daylight of the sun.

Similar is the case with the contact of the senses in respect of their objects. They do not unite themselves with the object. If there is a real union, how can there be separation? How can there be bereavement? How can there be sorrow that one is dispossessed of the object which one liked? There has never been union—there was only contact. And this contact is, really speaking, the opposite of what the senses are aiming at through that means which they adopt in the cognition of an object.

The intention of the senses is not the same as what is really happening there. The intention of the senses in respect of its object is that it wants to grab the object, to assimilate the object, to digest it, and to make the object part of its own being. Though this is the intention, this will not take place for certain reasons. What actually happens is that the senses are repelled by the structure of the object. We may call it an electrical repulsion, if we like, just as there is the repulsion felt by the tactile sense when there is contact of the sense with the physical object. What we call the touch sense of the fingers, for instance, on account of which they feel the solidity of an object, is not really a union of the tactile sense with the object, but it is a kind of repulsion that is produced by the particles of matter which constitute the object and are electrically charged—as also are the particles which constitute the structure of the tips of the fingers, or the nerve-endings. This produces a different type of reaction altogether, like positive and negative joining. But here, positive and positive are repelling. There is a kind of electrical repulsion produced by the nature of the object and the workings of the senses, though this repulsion itself sometimes looks like a satisfying condition due to a mistaken notion about what is really happening.

Suppose we are kicked and we fall down into a pot of honey; do we call it a great satisfaction? Well, we have fallen into a pot of honey; but we have been kicked and, therefore, we fell down into it. Likewise, these senses are being kicked by the object. But they think they have fallen into a pot of honey; and they are licking it, not knowing that it was very undeserved, really speaking. The intention was quite different.

The union that is aspired for in yoga is not of this nature. Therefore, inasmuch as union is not achieved in the contact of senses with objects, the defect, which is the cause of this repulsion and the mistaken satisfaction that arises on account of this contact, is to be recognised. For this purpose the senses have to first be weaned back from the objects. This process is called pratyahara.

What happens in pratyahara is mentioned in the sutra: svaviṣaya asaṁprayoge cittasya svarūpānukāraḥ iva indriyāṇāṁ pratyāhāraḥ (II.54). There are two changes that take place in this action of the senses in their abstraction from the objects. Firstly, they are disconnected from contact with the object due to the withdrawal of the consciousness which is animating the senses. Secondly, which is more important, the senses turn back to the mind and assume the character of the mind. ‘Cittasya svarupanukarah’ means ‘the senses accompanying the mind in its essential nature’. They become almost one with the mind. In the usual activity of the senses, they are not one with the mind. They drag the mind out from its own chambers and then compel it to contemplate an external object, in which case the mind is something like a slave of the senses; the master has himself come under the subjection of the servants. But in pratyahara, this is not what is happening. The master is recognised—and his worth is known. The senses return. They do not return of their own accord. If the gas in the engine is completely removed, the vehicle will not move. The gas is the motive force, and that motive force is the consciousness that is attending upon the activity of the senses. If the supply of energy behind the movement of a vehicle is withdrawn, the vehicle cannot move. And, as long as the supply is there, the vehicle cannot be stopped. The vehicle may be said to be the senses which are running towards some objective. They cannot be stopped in their activities unless the energy is withdrawn. That energy is the consciousness.

Therefore, first and foremost, what is required is a severance of the attention of consciousness in respect of the movement of the senses towards objects. The attention is diverted. That is why sometimes, when we are deeply thinking over some important matter, even if we may be looking at some object, we may not see it. Our eyes may be open; it may appear that we are gazing at something, but we are seeing nothing at all on account of the fact that the energy that is necessary for the cognition of an object is withdrawn. There cannot be perception when the attention is diverted in some other way. Thus, in pratyahara there is first a diversion of attention from one place to another place. We have to find out what that place is, which is the object of meditation.

In this withdrawal of the consciousness from its movement along the lines of the senses, what happens is, it returns to the source from where it started. It will be difficult for one to distinguish between the senses and the mind at this moment. The senses and the mind become one. Here, the mind becomes powerful because when we turn off all the lights, turn off all the fans, and all the expenditure of electric energy is cut off on account of the turning off of all the switches, we see that the power station feels the surge immediately. The energy returns to the power station because we have turned off all the switches; there is no expenditure of energy. All the sources of the external movement of energy are severed on account of the turning off of the switches; naturally, the energy has to increase at the source, and we will see the indication of the increase in kilowatts recorded in the meters of the power station. The engineer in the power station will find out that people have turned off all the switches, because consumption of energy has gone down.

So is the case with pratyahara. It is the turning off of all the switches of action through the senses by which there has been expenditure of energy. The senses coming in contact with objects is like turning on the switch—the fan is working, the light is working, the fridge is working —everything is working, and so all the energy is spent. Sometimes it may be impossible for the power station to supply the requisite energy on account of the intense activity of the senses. When this happens, the connection is severed. What happens to that energy which was being spent through sense-activity, which was being utilised for perception, cognition of things, and enjoyment of objects? What happens to that energy? It goes back. It goes back to the source from where it was generated, from where it was conducted outward through the media of the senses. Then there is a rise or a swell of energy within—suddenly coming up and overflowing, as it were. The mind will feel a new type of health within itself on account of the exuberance of energy that it has due to the reversion of the energies through the channels of the senses from the points of objects towards which they were previously moving. This is the meaning of the term ‘cittasya svarupanukarah’: the energy returning to the power station on account of the severance of contact with the points of expenditure. Then one becomes powerful, strong, indefatigable, energised—charged with a new kind of buoyancy of spirit, and brilliant in one’s expression, on account of the energy being stored within oneself rather than its being outwardly directed for expenditure through contact. So the senses are disconnected from contact with objects—that is one thing that is expected here, and that is done. Secondly, the energy returns on account of this disconnection—this is pratyahara. Svavishaya asamprayoge and cittasya svarupanukarah are the two essential points mentioned in respect of the practice of pratyahara.

Tataḥ paramā vaśyatā indriyāṇām (II.55). We then become supreme master of the senses and can direct them wherever we like. The senses no more compel us to act against our wish, and do not any more make us puppets in their hands, on account of the control gained over their activities. But this parama vashyata, the great mastery one gains over sense activities, is gained with great, hard effort. A very intensely strenuous effort is necessary—for years, perhaps—to gain this sort of mastery over the senses. We think that the senses will automatically come back from their objects; but, they will not listen to us. They are very powerful, and they will simply show their thumbs before us if we talk to them. It requires persistence, tenacity and untiring effort—day in and day out—doing the very same thing, even if we may fail in our attempt. It does not mean that every day we will succeed. One day they will listen, and for ten days they will not listen. Then it will look like our effort has been a failure. We will complain, “What is the matter with me? For ten days I am struggling; nothing is happening.” But, on the eleventh day they may listen. This is the peculiarity of these senses and the mind, so one should not be dejected.

It was already mentioned on an earlier occasion that this melancholy mood is a great obstacle in yoga. Duhkha daurmanasya are the two things mentioned—sorrow or grief, and dejection of spirit—on account of not having gained mastery, or not having achieved anything. This should not come, because not even an adept can know what mastery he has gained, where he is standing, and what are the obstacles preventing him from achievement. Nothing will be known even to an expert. Even such a person will be kept in the dark; such is the mysterious realm that we are treading and walking through. But, the great watchword of this practice is: never be diffident. We should never condemn ourselves or be dispirited in our practice. It may be that for months together we may not achieve concentration, which is also possible due to the working of certain karmas. Even then, one should be tirelessly pursuing it.

There is a story in which it is told that Robert Bruce saw a spider falling down many times— climbing up and falling down and climbing up. Robert Bruce was defeated in a war. He was sitting in a cave somewhere, crying. He did not know what to do. Then he saw a spider climbing up the wall and falling down—again it went up and again it fell down. A hundred times it fell, and finally it got up and caught the point to which it wanted to rise. Then he said, “This is what I have to do now. I should not keep crying here.” So, he went up with the regiment that he had and the forces available, and launched a frontal attack once again, and won victory in the war. The moral of the story is that we should not be melancholy, dispirited or lost in our conscious efforts, because the so-called defeatist feeling that we have in our practice is due to the operation of certain obstructing karmas. Otherwise, what can be the explanation for our defeat in spite of our effort to the best of our ability?

We have been struggling for days and nights, for months and years—and we are getting nothing. How is it possible? The reason is that there is some very strong impediment, like a thick wall standing in front of us, on account of some tamasic or rajasic karma of the past lives. All our time is spent in breaking through this wall. The achievement is something quite different—that will come later on. So why should we weep that we have achieved nothing? We have achieved; we have pierced through the wall. It is like Bharatpur Fort which the British wanted to break and could not, due to the thickness of the wall. Somehow or other, after tremendous effort, they made a hole and went in. We can imagine what indefatigable effort and what kind of persistence was required in breaking through the fort. Otherwise, one would give up and go back. It was impossible to break in because the wall was too thick—fifty feet thick and made of mud. One could not break it by any kind of bullet—such was Bharatpur Fort. They did not succeed, but they were very persistent. Somehow or other they made a hole and went in, and the fort was captured. Likewise, the first day’s effort need not necessarily bring illumination because of the great efforts that are necessary to break through the fort of the veil of ignorance and karma, which is itself sufficient and weighty. Even if we spend three-fourths of our life in this work only, it should not be regarded as a kind of defeat. Often it so happens that the major part of our life is spent only in cleansing and in breaking through this veil. Once this negative work of cleansing and breaking is effected, then the positive achievement will take place in a trice. How much time do we require to see the brilliance of the sun? We have only to remove the cataract veil that is covering our eyes and immediately we see the sun shining. The effort is to remove this veil. Hence, this vashyata, or the mastery over the senses which the sutra speaks of, is gained with very hard effort, and no sadhaka can afford to lose heart in the attempt. It is declared in the scriptures on yoga that the only thing that works, and succeeds, in this noble endeavour is persistence. If we go on persistently doing a thing—again and again, whether we succeed or not —we will succeed eventually.

Chapter 81

THE APPLICATION OF PRATYAHARA

Abstraction of the mind from the objects for attainment of the spirit is what is known as pratyahara. This is not only a most misunderstood aspect of the practice of yoga but also the most difficult one. Perhaps because of its intricacy it has been misconstrued and, therefore, it has become a painful process. Consequently, one finds oneself in a very awkward position when one reaches this stage. Firstly, there is an inadequate understanding of what is happening and what is required. Secondly, the very first attempt seems to be a very painful one and, therefore, there is a falling of the ardour of the mind with which it commenced its practice.

There is a great amount of doubt in the minds of seekers, even well-informed ones, as to what exactly is intended to be done in this stage known as pratyahara. Is it withdrawal? Many questions arise due to a mix-up of philosophical doctrines, as well as practical difficulties. Some of them are: What is it from which the mind is being abstracted? Is it from the form of the object or from the reality of the object, the very existence of it?

The omnipresence of the spirit should preclude any kind of withdrawal. Also, there is the doctrine of devotion which recognises the presence of God in everything, and the all-pervading characteristic of God would not demand a withdrawal of the mind from anything, inasmuch as God is present everywhere. Next, there is a doubt that the abstraction of the mind may mean a kind of psychological introversion, which is what is objected to by psychoanalysts, because the introverted attitude is the opposite of the extroverted one, and it is equally bad—as bad as the extroverted attitude. Whether we are tied up inwardly or bound outwardly, it makes no difference—anyhow we are bound. And, topping the list there is the painful aspect of it, because it is impossible for the mind not to think of that which it desires. If it is not to think of what it desires, then of what is it to think? What else are we to think—what we don’t like? We are expecting the mind to wipe out the thought of things from its memory, including even those thoughts which it wants and regards as valuable and worthwhile. What else is it to think, if everything is removed from its memory? All these are the difficulties.

Questions of this type all arise because of an improper grounding in a philosophical background, which is the preparatory stage of the practice of yoga. Yoga is a practical implementation of a doctrine of the universe. An outlook of things is at the background of this very technique. This is what is perhaps meant by the oft-repeated teaching of the Bhagavadgita that yoga should be preceded by samkhya. Here the words ‘yoga’ and ‘samkhya’ do not mean the technical classical jargons. They simply mean the theory and the practice. Eṣā te’bhihitā sāṅkhye buddhir yoge tv imāṁ śṛṇu (B.G. II.39): “I have talked to you about samkhya up to this time. Now I shall speak to you about yoga,” says Bhagavan Sri Krishna. There should be a correct grasp of what is to be done. This is what we may call the samkhya, or the philosophy aspect. And when we actually start doing it, that is the yoga aspect.

In every branch of learning there is the theory aspect and the practical aspect, whether it is in mathematics, or physics, or any other aspect of study. Here it is of a similar nature. Why is it that the mind is to be withdrawn from the object? The answer to this question is in the theoretical aspect which is the philosophy. What is wrong with the mind in its contemplation on things? Why should we not think of an object? Why we should not think of an object cannot be answered now, at this stage, when we have actually taken up this practice. We ought to have understood it much earlier. When we have started walking, it means that we already know why we are walking and where is our destination. We cannot start walking and say, “Where am I walking to?” Why did we start walking without knowing the destination? Likewise, if our question as to why this is necessary at all is not properly answered within our own self, then immediately there will be repulsion from the mind and it will say, “You do not know what you are doing. You are merely troubling me.” Then the mind will not agree to this proposal of abstraction.

Hence, there should be a very clear notion before we set about doing things; and this is a principle to be followed in every walk of life. Without knowing what is to be done, why do we start doing anything? Even if it is cooking, we must know the theory first.

What is it about? We cannot run about higgledy-piggledy without understanding it. The purpose of the withdrawal of the mind or the senses from the objects is simple; and that simple answer to this question is that the nature of things does not permit the notion that the mind entertains when it contacts an object. The idea that we have in our mind at the time of cognising an object is not in consonance with the nature of Truth. This is why the mind is to be withdrawn from the object. There is a peculiar definition which the mind imposes upon the object of sense at the time of cognising it, for the purpose of contacting it, etc. This definition is contrary to the true nature of that object. If we call an ass a dog, that would not be a proper definition; it would be a misunderstanding of its real essence. The object of sense is not related to the subject of perception in the manner in which the subject is defining it or conceiving it.

Hence, the very activity of the mind in respect of this cognising or contacting is misdirected from the very beginning itself. Yoga asks us to set right this notion first; and this setting right of the notion cannot be done unless the mind is first withdrawn from the object. If there is a very serious illness from which someone is suffering, and the illness has come to a crisis, to an advanced stage, we first of all put the patient on a kind of semi-fast and isolate the patient completely from all contact of every kind—social and personal, even psychological—so that there is a proper atmosphere for the investigation and diagnosis. This is the pratyahara—the complete quarantining of the patient, and not allowing any kind of intrusion from outside. Physically and in every sense of the term there should be isolation so that we can have a clear observation of the situation and also a study of the various techniques that have to be adopted for rectifying the mistaken notion that is in the mind. Pratyahara is not yoga proper. Just as the isolation of the patient in a ward is not the main treatment but is a necessary aspect of the treatment, likewise, pratyahara is an essential part of yoga though it is not yet yoga. Yoga is yet to start. For a few days the doctor may not do anything at all and will simply keep on observing what is happening. After days and days of observation, the physician may come to a conclusion as to what is the condition of the patient, and then the treatment will be started. Likewise, the mind is first of all segregated from its involvements. This segregation is pratyahara.

There is a prejudiced notion which the mind entertains in respect of its things, of its objects. This prejudice has arisen on account of a preconceived notion that is already there; and that notion has only one objective in front of it—namely, the exploitation of that object for its purposes. It has got a single intent, a deeply concentrated objective. If a wild beast looks at a prey, it has a single intention, which is not very complicated. Likewise, the mental cognition of an object, especially when it is charged with a forceful emotion, is backed up by a single intent. This is the prejudice, which is very irrational, and it will not be amenable to any kind of rational analysis.

A sentiment or a prejudice cannot be rationally analysed. It will not be subject to analysis, and it will not agree to it either—that is the force that is behind it. So there is a need to completely isolate the mind in its individual aspect as well as its externally related social aspect. The mind may not think of an object when it does not like it. This is one kind of pratyahara. Suppose we are averse to a thing; we will not think of that thing. But this is not yogic pratyahara, because the spontaneous dislike that arises in the mind on account of that particular object being an obstructing factor to its satisfactions is not a healthy condition. The pratyahara process is a healthy and positive process. It is not brought about by compulsion, or due to certain impediments that present themselves in the form of those things which are other than the ones which are desired by the mind. The mind sometimes does not think of objects when it is not concerned with them. This is another kind of pratyahara, but it is different from yogic pratyahara which is a philosophical withdrawal and not a negative kick that the mind receives or a complete oblivion or ignorance of the presence of a thing. It is a conscious attitude, and nothing unconscious should be allowed to interfere with it. We are aware of everything that is happening in the process of pratyahara. We are not ignorant of any aspect, and are not unconscious of anything. Even the things that we like and the things that we do not like—both these are objects of analysis. The withdrawal is not merely from the negative side of experience—namely, the objects which one does not like—but also from the positive objects which one really likes. Both the likes and the dislikes of the mind are two aspects of an involvement, and what pratyahara endeavours to accomplish is precisely the relief of the mind from involvement. Involvement is a kind of illness that has taken possession of the mind, from which it has to be freed, of which it has to be cured. Whether we have a positive like for a thing or a negative dislike for a thing, we are equally involved in either case. And both these are defects—very serious impediments from the point of view of yoga.

Why this involvement has taken place, and what is the defect that is there behind it, cannot be understood as long as the mind is impinging upon the object and clinging to it. The proper direction of the mind in a requisite manner can be effected only in a higher stage, which is called dharana, or concentration. But prior to this there is the need for bringing the mind back from the wrong direction that it has taken. Before we direct it in a proper way, we have to bring it back from the improper way it has taken. This is the meaning of pratyahara—the mind has taken a wrong direction of action, and so we have to bring it back from that direction. It has taken a wrong course, and after we bring it back to the point from where it started on the wrong course, we direct it on a proper course.

The bringing of the mind back from its improper course is pratyahara, and the directing of the mind in a proper course is dharana, concentration. We can now appreciate the necessity for pratyahara. When you are persistently doing something wrong, and I expect you to do the right thing, first I would enlighten you as to the mistake that has been committed, and then inform you about the way of rectifying the situation: stop doing that which is improper, and then start to do that which is proper. The cessation of doing that which is improper is pratyahara, and the actual doing of the thing which is proper is dharana. But, as I mentioned, this is a painful process. Though we may philosophically argue with the mind that it has taken a wrong direction, it will not listen to this argument because it has got involved emotionally in that particular object towards which it is moving in a wrong manner. Though it is wrong in an ultimate sense, it also has to be noted, with sympathy in respect of the mind, that it has become one with the object due to its recognition of a peculiar twisted value in that object, for the purpose of the fulfilment of which it is moving towards it. There is a need for viveka, a proper understanding of the whole circumstance under which the mind has got involved in this manner. Then only is it possible to wean the mind from the object and bring it to the point of right concentration, which is real yoga.

The pain involved in pratyahara is the result of a love that the mind has for that object towards which it is wrongly moving. Inasmuch as the direction which the mind has taken towards the object is wrong, the affection that it has towards the object is also wrong, and the pleasure that it derives from the object is also a misconstrued, misconceived idea. There is some complete topsy-turvy effect that has taken place on account of a basic error in the total attitude of the mind towards the object. In an earlier sutra we have studied that, to the discriminative, all is pain in this world: duḥkham eva sarvaṁ vivekinaḥ (II.15). It is to the understanding spirit and to the mind that the painful aspect of a thing is made clear. But to an unclear mind, this painful aspect will not become obvious. Who can ever believe that the objects of sense are made, or constituted, in a manner quite differently from the way in which they are seen by the eyes?

The belief in the concrete structure of an object and the stability of its position is so intense that any kind of contrary philosophical analysis will not be appreciated by the mind at that moment of time. Thus, while there is a need for a rational force of mind in the bringing of the mind back from the object, there is also a need to consider the emotional aspect, which should not be completely forgotten, because the mind is made up of various aspects. Thinking is not the only aspect of the mind. It has the aspect of feeling, and there is the aspect of will. They all work together in connivance. When the mind thinks wrongly about an object, the will also works wrongly in respect of that object and confirms that thinking, and then the feeling charges it with the requisite force. It is like dacoits coming together; though they move in a wrong direction, they have a force of their own, so it is difficult to encounter all of them at once without proper precaution. The force that is behind the wrong activity of the mind is the emotion, and unless this force is withdrawn, we cannot check that activity.

Thus, in the effecting of the pratyahara or the abstraction of the mind from the objects, we have to consider the thinking aspect, the willing aspect and also the feeling aspect. What are we thinking about that object towards which we are moving? What is the amount of will that we have exercised in fulfilling our wish? What is the deep-seated feeling that we have got in respect of it? All these three have to be isolated threadbare, if possible. The thinking, the willing and the feeling, though they all work together almost simultaneously, are three different aspects, and they can be pulled out independently like threads from a cloth. The most difficult thing to tackle is feeling, and less difficult to encounter is the will, and still less is the aspect of thinking. Therefore, in the beginning, it would be to the advantage of the seeker to analyse the easier aspect—namely, the thinking aspect. What are we thinking about that object? Why did we go towards it? What is our intention behind it? Then we can go to the other aspect, which is the will. We have a determination for the purpose of confirming the attitude that we have adopted on account of a thought in respect of that object. But the deepest aspect of it is the emotion—the feeling.

No pratyahara can be effective unless all these three aspects are properly analysed and isolated from the nature of the object. Though the mind may not be thinking about the object, there may be feeling towards it; then there is no pratyahara. Not only that—the thinking, willing, feeling aspect has also a subconscious element in it, which also is to be probed into before complete mastery is gained. There may be a subtle restlessness at the time of the effecting of this practice. That restlessness may be due to the presence of a subconscious like for that very object from which the mind has been consciously withdrawn, which aspect is pointed out in a verse of the Bhagavadgita: rasavarjam raso’py asya paraṁ dṛṣṭvā nivartate (B.G. II.59). The mind and the senses appear to be withdrawn from the objects of sense in pratyahara, it is true. But how do we know that the mind and the senses have no taste for the object? Hence, pratyahara is not merely a physical isolation or even a conscious disconnection of oneself from the object, but is an emotional detachment that is necessary—wherein alone is it possible to have no taste for a thing. The taste may go to the feeling; and as long as the taste is present, there is every possibility of the other aspects rising once again into action. As long as the root is there, there is every chance of the sprout coming up one day or the other.

Complete pratyahara is not practicable unless an aspect of concentration and meditation is combined with it. The positive side should also be brought into the role of the practice, to some extent at least. Just as in medical treatment, together with the particular prescription for the treatment of the illness we also give a constructive tonic so that there may not be a deleterious effect of the weakness of the system on account of an intensive treatment, likewise we have to be very cautious in dealing with the mind—that in withdrawing the mind from objects, we are not merely focused on the aspect of withdrawing. We are not only emptying the mind and giving nothing else with which to fill it. There can be a parallel filling of the mind with a positive content, together with the emptying of it. Then the painful aspect of it will be mitigated to a large extent. We are not going to merely starve the mind and give it nothing. That would be a very difficult thing to stomach. Together with this starvation and the emptying or vacating of the mind gradually by detaching it from its usual objects of contact, it can also be positively filled with the content of dharana, whose winds will start blowing, gradually, with their own fragrance and solacing message, together with this deeper preceding stage of pratyahara or withdrawal.

With this, the Samadhi Pada of the Yoga Sutras concludes. From the Vibhuti Pada onwards, we are given a passport to enter into the inner realm of yoga, which is concentration, meditation, and communion with the noble, great object of meditation. The Vibhuti Pada begins with dharana, or concentration of mind. Deśa bandhaḥ cittasya dhāraṇā (III.1): The fixing of the attention of the mind on the given object—wholeheartedly, spontaneously and entirely—is called concentration. Swami chidananda

Pratyahara (Withdrawal) Pratyahara is withdrawal or abstraction. We saw how Raja Yoga has a direct effect aiding the Yogin to progress in concentration and control of the mind. Tapas aids in concentration, by eliminating Rajas and Tamas. Tapas forcefully restrains the senses. Because, as long as the mind is friendly with the senses and it is willingly related and bound up with the senses, its natural tendency is to flow along with the senses. Senses are always active, because that is their Dharma. It is the inveterate tendency of the eye to open and see. It cannot remain closed. If there is sound, it immediately wants to see what is happening there. And it is the inveterate tendency of the ear to hear. All the senses are made that way. They follow their Dharma. Each one follows its tendency, and the mind being completely with the senses, what happens is, it also flows along with the senses, outside towards the objects ever seeking new experiences and always wanting something. It does not want to remain without change. It does not like monotony. And you have to do any one of the two things: either you have to stop the outer movement of the senses by forcibly restraining them, or you have to talk to the mind and make it understand that its close connection and relationship with the senses is not good for it, that it is not going to bring it happiness and that it will only take it into more trouble, and thus pursue it to give up its connection with the senses. Tapas does the first thing. It forcefully curbs the senses. It is denying the senses from fulfilling their urges. Svadhyaya does the second thing. It goes on talking to the mind. It goes on putting sense into the mind, putting wisdom into the mind, and goes on attracting the mind to the higher ideal and not being sensuous but supersensuous. How? By placing before it in glowing and thrilling terms, the inspiring examples of lives of saints, the lives of spiritual seekers, those who have gone before you on the path and the wonderful result of such turning away from the senses and moving towards the spiritual. So, in glowing terms, the beauty, the grandeur and the glory of the attainment are put before the mind and thus within the mind is created a new desire for higher things. ‘Why should I go after this little thing? Why not I go after something which is grand and glorious?’ Thus, a strong aspiration is created in the mind by putting before it the grandeur and glory of the supreme attainment before which all sense-experience pales into insignificance, so much so, the mind feels to give them up as nothing. ‘I am going to get a hundredfold, a thousandfold, more than what I am giving up and so why not I give up little, little things?’ In this way, the mind is presented with tremendous attraction of the glorious goal and it is made to turn away from its alliance with the senses. This is done through Svadhyaya. So, the first aspect of it, Tapas does. It puts the axe to the senses. And Svadhyaya does the work of persuading the mind, holding before it the grandeur, glory and beauty of the attainment, putting wisdom into it. These are higher processes. Somehow, you could gradually train the senses and discipline them, make the senses themselves give up their inveterate habit of going towards objects, and follow this new nature that the mind has developed. Because, at this stage, you see, when the mind has developed discrimination, a higher understanding and a desire for the goal, and the senses continue to have their old inveterate tendencies and habits, what happens? There is a two-way pull created in the nature of the seeker—the mind gradually tending to take him up higher but the senses continuing to have their own age-old habit. Therefore, there is within the aspirant a struggle. Will he now listen to the mind or will he overcome the drag by the senses? Why not resolve this struggle? Why not make the senses also follow, as it were, the same nature of the mind? If this is done, it would be the best of all the methods. Superior to both Tapas and Svadhyaya would be to make the senses your friend. Make the senses also take on to new habits. It will remove all old habits. If this could be done, that would be the best. And this training and gradual discipline for this progress by which the senses are made to renounce their age-long habit, take upon themselves a new habit, as it were, in following the awakened mind. The mind which has now acquired discrimination, and accepted to turn its direction from the world of objects to the world of God, and if the senses also begin to follow the mind, then one is rewarded. This state is brought about by the discipline of Pratipakshabhavana. A very happy analogy is given by the commentator of the Sutras to bring home this new relationship between the mind and the senses. Up till now, the senses were dragging the mind out but here we have a new situation when the mind drags the senses in. Mind now begins to put its influence upon the senses. And the senses are prepared, readily and willingly to follow the mind. A beautiful analogy is brought about to explain this state of affairs—the analogy of the beehive. The Parable Of The Bee When all the buzzing bees are going in all directions, here and there, if the queen bee is somehow induced to go in one particular direction, then immediately all the other bees automatically tend to follow the queen bee. Suppose the bee-keeper is trying to shift the hive, change the hive of a certain batch of bees. As long as he is trying to get the bees by themselves, he does not succeed. So, what he does? He takes up the queen bee and puts it upon the new hive, and lo, the trick is done! All bees just follow the queen bee and settle down upon the new hive. The commentator says, in the same way, the senses are made to follow the mind, follow the nature of the mind now, as the bees are induced to follow the queen bee. And this is Pratyahara. Now, this Pratyahara you must understand. It is not merely a technique. Asana is a technique. You sit and try to train the body into a state of perfect stillness, motionlessness and this is a powerful method of gaining complete control over the Rajas in your system. Because, already by Yama and Niyama, the Tamas has been well-controlled, well brought into your control. It has been overcome and the entire nature of the aspirant has become purified. He follows strictly the path of good conduct, and noble character and his daily life is spiritualised by Saucha, Santosha, Tapas and Isvarapranidhana.

Establishment In Pratyahara In this state, the impact of experiences takes on a different nature altogether. Before, when you were totally expressing yourself to the impact of outer perceptions, each thing had the power to shake you, to disturb you and to bring out a reaction. But when you are developed in Pratyahara, perception is seen, experience is undergone, contact is made, and yet, you are continuously reacting to something else within, in the opposite direction. This reaction is now a big blow to your previous reactions. You don’t react any longer as you did before you came to seek the path, unto the quest, and into Yoga. It is something this way, in the original state while you were completely, vitally involved in external perceptions and environments and experiences, now you are no longer vitally involved. You are the master, you keep on to your centre and you never lose your ground and you become a witness of things, rather than a participator in things. Your reaction to things are no longer out of your control and the difference is in this way. For instance, suppose you are taking a walk in the forest and wood-cutters are felling a big tree. As the tree crashes to the ground, if you happen to come under the impact of the branches, you will be injured. But, suppose the same thing happens in this way. They are felling a tree and you are taking a walk but you are just out of the reach of the tree. Also while you are on one side of the tree, the sun is on the other side. And as the tree crashes, the shadow of the tree falls upon you and passes over you and then the tree goes to the ground. Now, something has passed over you, something of the tree, but yet you are not affected by it at all. It has not touched you, not been able to injure you. Why, only the shadow has passed over you. In the same way, only the shadow of all perceptions passes over the psyche of the mind and not the actual experience. The import of the actual experiences is no longer upon the inner being when one is established in Pratyahara. There are three kinds of contacts. One is the contact of the individuals with objects, contact of the senses with the sense-objects. This is the grossest, outward form of contact in which one has not awakened even to the earliest stages of one’s discipline and training. The wise masters say, you have to deny yourself this contact. You have to raise yourself from this contact. Because, you are not strong, you fly away from such objects. You place yourself in a better environment, because, you are not strong enough, you are nothing inside. Therefore, the first part of spiritual life is carefully adjusting this contact in its most crude stage. But, supposing you have come to gain certain amount of inner strength, human understanding, you have no longer any fear to have these contacts. The second contact is of the mind with the senses. What happens is, in that stage, when you have become self-controlled, when your mind has becomemore enlightened, then you can afford to go amidst tempting environments, go right in the midst of objects. You take the risk, yet you are saved. Because, even when the senses come into contact with the objects, the mind refuses to take this contact in, upon itself. It says ‘no’—that is the withdrawal from the second contact. Still higher is that contact made when you are established in wisdom, established in discrimination. You are in the midst of objects, senses are contacting the objects and for purposes of your duty or due to circumstances, you have to pay attention on these and have to put your mind into them. Here, yet your ego-consciousness has not acquired an iota of desire for them, even when the mind is involved and is taking interest for specific reason, yet it says: ‘I am not touched by this. Though the senses are involved in them, yet I am only an unaffected, unattached witness of these things. In my estimation they have no value. So, I am in my centre.’ So, you disconnect yourself with the mind and the senses. This is the third withdrawal. You are withdrawing both the senses as well as the mind from the objects. Pratyahara is this state where you identify yourself with the reason and not with the mind, with the Buddhi and not with the Manas. This Buddhi is pure reason that which is endowed with discrimination, with greater and deeper understanding, a greater, newly found will-power. You identify yourself with that will, spiritual will and refuse to have any relationship or have any connection with even the activity of the mind within and the activity of the senses without. This is real Pratyahara. In this state, you are so able to train the mind and the senses that the eyes see but yet they do not look. Looking is a deliberate process in which you are engaged when the ego is one with the sense. ‘I will not associate myself with these processes.’ Though the eyes do see, you are not interested in looking. The ears hear but you refuse to listen, the tongue tastes but you are not interested in relishing. The mind thinks but you refuse to dwell upon it. This is Pratyahara. See but do not look. Hear but do not listen. Taste but do not relish. If a student is very earnest, he does not merely want to get a degree. He is not merely interested in passing an examination or securing a particular class. But he wants not only to get a first class, but he wants to be the first student in his college, may be he wants to become the first in the whole state. An Olympic competitor does not want to merely win a silver medal or the third position. He wants to knock off the championship. Just as a student who wants to be first in the University, the first student in the training college and in a singe University or like a competitor who wants to be the Olympic world champion—these two people, in order to be able to keep the objective of theirs in the pursuit of their study and sport, deny themselves anything and everything which they feel, is not in accord with the all out effort of theirs. So, they cut off night clubs, they cut off parties, they cut off cocktail parties, they cut off smoking, they cut of drinking. Anything which all people like very much, desire very much, engage themselves in very much and regard as normal, they are prepared to give up. Why? Because, they had made up their minds to achieve something. It is so, in an ordinary achievement, in normal worldly life, in all engagements. For instance, the student at least tries to save time and give maximum to study. And other social engagements he cuts down, everything to the minimum. He does not go to cinema. He does not go to cocktail party or any other place of entertainment. It is even harder with an athlete. Because, it is not only a question of utilising time in study, not distracting their attention, but also keeping the body in a perfect condition. He ousts himself from every normal thing which ordinary people take. He does not take too much starch or sugar or things which affect his health. So he forgoes many things. He is almost like a Yogi. He does not eat chocolate. He does not eat ice-cream. He does not take soft drinks. He gets up early in the morning and may be he runs with the trainer behind his motor car. In this way, he trains himself. Because, he sets as his goal to become first in whatever he undertakes. The total conquest of both your external and internal nature and to ascend into a nature of absolute mastery and perfection is the goal of the Raja Yogi. He does not want to do things halfway also. He does not want to perpetuate his problems. He does not want to keep his problems. He wants to put an end to them once and for all, so that there will be no more problem for him, no more fear, no more bondage, no more suffering. Once and for all, he wants to transcend them and master them for all time to come. So, he is prepared to face them. The extent to which one attains mastery over them is fascinating. I have elaborated upon Pratyahara and once you have succeeded in thus changing the very direction of things from the worldward, upward and Godward, you are well set for Yoga proper. It is usual to regard these five steps, Yama, Niyama, Asana, Pranayama and Pratyahara as the outer Yoga, and Dharana, Dhyana and Samadhi as inner Yoga.

PRATYAHARA—CRUX OF RAJA YOGA SADHANA The fifth Anga in Raja Yoga is Pratyahara. We have already seen that Pratyahara is differently classified by some as belonging to Bahiranga Yoga or external Yoga; by others it is grouped with Antaranga Yoga or the inner Yoga or the Yoga proper. Both the classifications are valid and they hold good. Classifying Pratyahara with Antaranga Yoga is valid, because this process of Pratyahara has something directly to do with the mind, which is the Antahkarana, the control of which is part of the Antaranga Yoga. But, the other classification is also valid, because Pratyahara is involved in sense perception, in perception of the outer world and its objects. Therefore, from that angle, it is something that has to do with the outer world and it can be classified under Bahiranga Yoga. So, inasmuch as it is sitting on the fence, Pratyahara straddles both the outer and the inner worlds, the outer world of sense-objects and the inner world of the mind and its thinking process. It allows itself of being bracketed with either category—Bahiranga Yoga or Antaranga Yoga. As I had mentioned in an earlier chapter, I am inclined to include Pratyahara in the Antaranga Yoga, though Pratyahara is connected with the outer world. I am so inclined because from Pratyahara onwards it is the mind that is more involved in the practices of Yoga rather than the body or the Prana, which are the grosser lower aspects of the human personality. Therefore, Pratyahara is better classified under Antaranga Yoga, though there is no harm if you include it under Bahiranga Yoga and keep Dharana, Dhyana and Samadhi as the Antaranga Yoga. Unlike Asana and Pranayama, Pratyahara is not something which you practise sitting in a particular place only, though that is one aspect of it. That aspect we shall consider first.

Light on Different Aspects of Pratyahara When you sit upon your Asana for doing your daily Dhyana, then it is that the mind begins to roam all over the place; then it is that the mind begins to go into various directions and think of numerous objects. And there you have to be firm. As and when the mind goes out towards external thoughts, you have to bring it back again and direct it towards the focal point of concentration, towards the object of meditation. This tug of war process—some-times swinging that way, sometimes swinging this way—will go on for some time and this process is part of the Abhyasa of Pratyahara. You try to bring the mind back, withdraw it from where it wants to go and taste. The mind usually goes to various objects which it wants to taste. And you say ‘No’ and bring it back. So, this Abhyasa of Pratyahara may be practised as you are sitting in the meditation pose and trying to concentrate and the mind begins to wander. Actually, what happens? You are inside the room, inside closed doors, closed windows, with only the blank wall before you, and your eyes too are closed. You do not even see anything. Still, why should various thoughts come, of objects that are outside, which are not before you, which are out of sight? One would expect that the objects out of sight would be out of the mind also, but they are not. They are very much in the mind, they come up from within. Why? Because you have been constantly taking the impressions of those objects into your mind. You have been putting in Samskaras. So they are there. You have been creating impressions of the objective world within the mind. They have sunk to the bottom of the mind-lake. And when you sit for meditation, they rise up. They may be remote impressions from memory or they may be the most recent impressions from the day’s Vyavahara or activity. For instance, if you sit for meditation in the evening, what all had been there before you that day till evening time can come up and bother you during your evening meditation. Or if you sit for morning meditation, you may start thinking about all the objects that are likely to be encountered during the day. “I have to do this, I have to do that, I have to meet this man, I have to go to that place”—all such thoughts may start coming. Why? Because you have taken impressions of them. And how can you avoid taking these impressions? The moment you step out into the world, you are always surrounded by things, by sense-objects. They come to you through all the five Indriyas—sight, sound, taste, smell and touch—and they go inside. The moment you come out of your room, you are right in the midst of Nama-Rupa, right in the midst of variegated names and forms. It is precisely because of this that you must know how to practise Pratyahara even during Vyavahara, how to practise withdrawal even when you are right in the midst of lots of things and people and activities. That is to say, you must learn the art of being detached inwardly, the art of inner detachment even in the midst of activity. And you must learn the art how not to allow the external objects to go right deep into your consciousness even if they pass before your eyes like in a kaleidoscope or like on a cinema screen. The objects may present themselves to the eyes, and through the eyes they may be taken to the brain-centre inside. You cannot help seeing them. You may not deliberately want to look at them, but when they are before the eyes, you cannot help seeing them. You may not deliberately want to listen to something, but you cannot help hearing things anyway, because the ear catches sound, just as the eye catches sight. In this situation, what should you do? Detach the mind from the seeing centre, the hearing centre, the touching, smelling and tasting centres. Detach the mind; let it have some other background. Let it have some other focal point, even in the midst of Vyavahar. That is why it is said that the Yogi should carry on unbroken God-thought. There must be a current of unbroken God-remembrance within himself, always, always...in the mind. If there is unbroken God-thought in the mind, that God-thought would form the permanent background for the mind. And the mind would recede into that background whenever it is detached from the external world. So, you must cultivate the habit of staying inward partially, even amidst your Vyavahara, not giving hundred per cent of the mind to external things and being completely overcome by sights and sounds, etc. You should learn to give only a part of the mind to external Vyavahara, only that much of the mind as is absolutely essential and necessary, keeping the rest in God- thought. Instead of blending the mind completely with sense-objects and becoming one with them, you must learn to give to the external things only as much of the mind as is necessary, keeping the rest of it inwardly detached. That is Pratyahara, as it should be practised even while you are in the midst of Vyavahara. Do not take in the impressions of the various perceptions too deeply into your mind. At the most, let the impressions touch the instruments of perception—ear, nose, eye, etc.—and from there let them be conveyed to the brain-centres of perception. Thus perceive them, but do not react to them. Let not the mind be too much concerned. Bring about a detachment of the mind from the perceiving centres in the brain. This is one aspect of Pratyahara. There is another aspect to Pratyahara. Supposing, before you know, the impression has already entered the mind. The mind has started to think about this impression. All right. Detach the ego from the mind. Detach your doer-ship. Say, “I am not seeing, I am not hearing. I am not interested in it. The mind has grasped it, true, but I am not the mind. I will step back and be a dispassionate, unaffected, unattached witness-consciousness. I have not taken the impression. My mind has taken it, my mind is thinking about it, but I will not identify myself with this line of thought”. Thus asserting, you can bring about a withdrawal of the conscious “I” from the mind and its thoughts. So, disconnect your link with the mind. Do not say, “I am seeing, I am doing, I am thinking, I am feeling, I am hearing”. No. Say, “I am neither thinker nor hearer nor seer. I am the witness- consciousness. These processes that go on, I only witness them. They will not affect me. I will not allow myself to be affected by them”. In this way, bring about a severance of the connection between your ego-consciousness and your mind. That is also part of the Abhyasa of Pratyahara in the midst of Vyavahara. Some Yogis bring about a snapping of the link between them and the outer world, between them and the objects; they go away to Gangotri or they go away to some place where no one comes to them. They keep alone by themselves. That is one method of withdrawal—withdrawing oneself from the external objects. But that is not possible for all. You have to live and move among external objects. So, if you cannot break the link between the objective world of names and forms and yourself, at least snap the connection between the mind and the Indriyas or the perceiving centres in the brain. That is one successful step of withdrawal. Going deeper still, break the link between your ego-consciousness and whatever is put before the mind. Then, even if the mind has taken in some impressions or some thought-currents, you will stand apart from them, you will refuse to identify yourself with them. You will try to be Kevala Sakshi-Matra. This is the practice of actual Pratyahara or withdrawal. Even during the moments of actual activity and Vyavahara, in the midst of things, if this Abhyasa goes on, then the problem which arises when you actually sit upon the seat of meditation and try to withdraw the mind, that problem will be much lessened. The problem will be a great deal lighter, because you are already not allowing this problem to take root in the mind. Perception is automatic and spontaneous. It cannot be prevented. If you go out, naturally the eye will see, the ear will hear, every sense will function in its natural condition as it is meant to function. But, if you cut off the link between the mind and the inner sense-centre, the outer sense may perceive the object and the inner sense may register it, but the mind will refuse to pay attention to it. And if somehow the mind gets involved in the perception unconsciously, then detach your ego from the mind and assert that you are only a witness, that the perception will not touch you, that it has nothing to do with you. The sense perceives and the mind is involved in it, but you will remain only a detached, unaffected, witness-consciousness. It can then have no impact upon you. It can then bring about no change in your consciousness. Your consciousness is established in its own essential nature which is non-duality, which is peace, which never changes. So, detach the real ego—not the false ego which is a part and parcel of the mind—from the mind and remain as the witness-consciousness. Now, it is the higher discriminating intellect that has succeeded in awakening the higher awareness, an awareness of the Reality, an awareness of your essential Self. That higher discriminating intellect counters the effect of the involvement of the mind. Mind is the emotive mind; mind is the desire nature. Mind is nothing but the spontaneous nature of emotion and desire. That may get involved due to being interested in the sense perception, but the discriminating intellect now ranges itself on the side of your essential nature and counters the involvement of the mind and says: “No, I refuse to get dragged into this. I refuse to associate myself with this present condition of the mind. I stand apart from it. I am only a witness of it”. Thus saying, the intellect identifies itself with the pure consciousness which is unchanging and refuses to associate itself and identify itself with the mind and its present condition. Practice of Pratyahara—An Exercise as well as a Process Pratyahara, it may be noted, is both an Abhyasa as well as a Prakriya. Abhyasa means a practice that you do at a given time, in a given place, in a particular Asana; and it is in the form of an exercise. And in the form of an exercise, it becomes a valuable precursor to starting your meditation, because when you sit for meditation, your senses begin going outside. And in their wake, the mind begins thinking of objects. So, you have to withdraw the mind away from the senses. In that sense, Pratyahara is an Abhyasa. But in a more vital sense, it is a process. Pratyahara is not only a practice or an exercise, but it is also a process—a process that has to be constantly kept going throughout your wakeful hours of Vyavahara. Because, if you are trying to centre yourself in the inner Reality, in the Dhyana Lakshya or object of meditation, that effort is confined only to your hours of actual practice. And the rest of the time you allow the mind and the senses to go in the opposite direction towards the external things, towards the many things or the Aneka, towards the perception and enjoyment of sense-objects. So, what happens? Your Yoga practice will never succeed. Your inner Yoga practice can never succeed. It can succeed only if it has the full cooperation and support of the remaining part of your life, that is, your life outside the meditating hours, because your Yoga Abhyasa has to be done within the broad framework of your normal life. Your normal life you cannot ignore. You cannot make it disappear. There is no magic wand to do that. Your normal life is there, very much there. Day after day, the Yogi has got to cope with a certain pattern of external life. Here we are talking of the vast majority of Yogis in the workaday world. We are not talking of the microscopic minority, the few who may have succeeded in completely isolating themselves from the rest of the world and who may be staying in a cave in Gomukh or Gangotri. Such Yogis are only a microscopic minority and their pattern of living has no relevance to reality, has no relevance to the rest of the people who are all striving upon the same path. Leaving aside this minority, the vast majority of Yogis and practitioners have got a certain pattern of external life to deal with. They have got to cope up with it, and at the same time, they are authentic Yogis. They are as much genuine Yogis as the Yogis isolated in some remote seclusion, because their aspiration is as much real. Their desire for God and liberation is genuine. While the cave Yogi is trying to pursue his Sadhana in an extreme fashion, the generality of Yogis pursue their Sadhana as best as they can. Nevertheless, people belonging to either category are hundred per cent genuine, authentic Yogis. Now, in the context of the majority type of Yogis, Pratyahara cannot be an unhampered and undisturbed process of Abhyasa, completely cut off from the objective universe and all its distractions. In the case of the Yogi in isolation, there is not much of the objective universe there except his own body and the mountain and the rocks and Gangaji and the sky. But the majority of the Yogis striving to lead a life of Yoga may be in a city-surrounding or a town-surrounding or in any normal surrounding with their own families to look after, business to attend to, or service to be done. In their case, the special Abhyasa or exercise will be a small part of Pratyahara. They have to do their Yogabhyasa in the context of their social life, in the context of their professional activities, their home and family surroundings and environment. Each one of them has his preoccupations with his family, with his children, with his wife, with his profession, business or service, with his social engagements. For Yogis of this group, then, Pratyahara will be very important in its aspect as a continuing process throughout their waking hours, throughout their active hours, rather than in its aspect as a special exercise in the meditation chamber. For them, Pratyahara has to become a way of life. They have to live a life of Pratyahara. They have to practise Pratyahara in the midst of their daily activities at home, in society, in their specific field of professional life, in their specific field of service or business. In the Udyogic Kshetra, in the Samajik Kshetra, in the Parivarik Kshetra, in the Griha Kshetra—in all these places they have to practise Pratyahara. And this is precisely one of the salient features of the Gita Yoga. “To be in the world and yet not to be in it”. And, long, long ago, when in his early days Mahatma Gandhi made a Gujarati translation of Srimad Bhagavad Gita, he gave that translation the name “Anasakti Yoga”. “Asakti” means attachment. “Anasakti” means detachment. Gandhiji called his Gita translation “Anasakti Yoga” or “The Yoga of Detachment”; and he said that this was the message of the Gita. In the midst of the world, be detached from the world, like the lotus in the lake, unaffected and uncontaminated by water. The lotus is in the water, but it does not become wet. Likewise, one should be in the world, but be unaffected by the world. In this way one should live. And this is the process of living a life established in Pratyahara. You have to practise this type of Pratyahara in the midst of activity so that outer perceptions do not have an ultimate impact upon you. You are in a crowd and yet you are alone. You are involved and occupied in various activities. Why? Because it is your duty. It is your Kartavya Karma; it happens to be part of your Dharma. May be, you have to involve yourself in many things on account of your children, on account of your wife, on account of the marriage of your daughter, on account of trying to fix up your son in some job, on account of some litigation which has been forced upon you by your relatives or neighbours. There is no going out of all this. Yet, in the midst of it all, you know that you have nothing to do with it all. It is not because of your personal desire that you are involved in these things, it is not that all this Vyavahara has got some fascination or some attraction for you, but because they happen to be the immediate duties brought before you. You have no desire in the matter, but it happens to be your Kartavya Karma, it happens to be your Dharma as the head of the family. Wherever you may be placed, you have a certain duty to fulfil, a certain Dharma to discharge. In a particular location, in a particular context, you have a certain Dharma to fulfil. This is precisely what Krishna was trying to make Arjuna aware of on the battle field of Kurukshetra.

“Yogastha Kuru Karmani”—Essence of the Gita Teaching Sri Krishna said: “Look here, Arjuna, whatever your personal sentiments may be, you are a prince of the Kshatriya race, of the warrior clan, whose Dharma is to defend the country and look after the welfare of the subjects and maintain law and order and Dharma. Here is absolute chaos. These unrighteous people have got the upper hand and they are bringing their unrighteous tyranny upon the people. The people are unhappy. Dharma is being completely destroyed. At the helm of affairs there is a complete absence of Dharma. So this is a Dharma-Yuddha, a righteous war. So, as a Kshatriya, as a prince, it is your duty to fight. And, moreover, on this first day of the War, you have taken over the task of leading your army as the Commander-in-Chief. So you must fight. It is your Dharma”. So, Arjuna had this duty to do; it was facing him as his immediate duty also. Moreover, he had assumed his duty, agreed to perform it, and come right upon the battle field, with the opposing army facing him there. In that particular context of his position as Commander-in-Chief of one of the two armies on the battle field, as prince of the Pandava race, this man’s hundred per cent duty was to fulfil his particular role, to fulfil the Kartavya Karma which was facing him. It was his Dharma in that particular context to lead the army and try to see that the unrighteous Kauravas were overcome and defeated. So, when Krishna told Arjuna that he must fight, what He meant was that Arjuna must do his duty—the duty which then faced him. The general notion of people that the Gita is a gospel of violence, a gospel of war, is amistaken notion. It is amisconception. It betrays a complete failure to understand the central message of the Gita. Because the Gita happened to be delivered in a particular context, in the context of the battle field, the dramatic effect of it was heightened. Arjuna was told that even in the midst of the war, he was to be completely detached. He was to be established in God. He was to be rooted in God-remembrance. The Lord gave him this Sandesh: “Mamanusmara Yudhyacha. Remember Me constantly and fulfil your duty”. When the Gitacharya, Lord Krishna, addressed these words to Arjuna by the word “Yudhyacha” He meant only, “Do your duty”. And it just so happened that at that particular hour Arjuna’s duty was to fight as a warrior in a righteous war. Be it noted that Krishna’s emphasis was not so much on the word “Yudhyacha” as upon the word “Mamanusmara”. If the Gita had been preached to a Brahmin in a forest hermitage, this word “Yuddha” would never have got into the Gita. It would have taken a different terminology altogether. What the Lord meant to say was that even in the midst of the most intense and dynamically active field of human life, one should be in a state of Yoga inside—“Yogastha Kuru Karmani”. The entire emphasis in the Gita is: “Wherever you may be, and whatever you may be doing you must be in a state of Yoga. You must be closely linked up with the Universal Soul. You must be closely linked up with the Divine, and thus linked up, you must perform your activities”. So, it means that when this message, this teaching, this Yoga, that you must be linked up with the Divine and perform activities, that you must be grounded in God-remembrance and God-thought even while performing your activities, could be prescribed even in the tense circumstances of a battle field, then it goes without saying that it applies to all other fields of human activity. The most difficult field of human activity is naturally the field of battle, where the people clash and kill under the most violent, most dynamic and most complicated circumstances. And if Yoga can be practised there, then no one can give an excuse that he cannot practise Yoga because he is a business man or he is a somebody else. If Lord Krishna had given His message in some other context, then the soldier of the battle field might have protested that the Upadesh or teaching could apply to anyone else, but not to him because he was in a very, very complicated and difficult field, namely, the life-and-death battle field. Evidently, the Lord deliberately chose the most difficult, the most complicated, the most active and most violent, and the most externalised field of activity that is ever possible for a human being to practise the Gita Yoga of inward living. If the Gita Yoga is possible in the midst of the clash and clang of weapons in a field of battle, then it is possible anywhere and everywhere. Then, no one can ever come forward and say, “No, it is not possible in my particular context, in my particular circumstance”. So, once and for all, the possibility of anyone putting forward an excuse for not practising the Gita Yoga was effectively removed by the Lord when He chose the battle field to give His Upadesh to Arjuna. It is in the above context that we must understand Pratyahara also. You must learn to be detached in the midst of activities. You must learn to be grounded in the inner background in the midst of outward activity or outer dynamism. And this process of Pratyahara is an indispensable necessity if you want to practise Yoga in daily life. If you want to practise Dharana, Dhyana and Samadhi in the context of a normal life lived in the world, the support of the process of Pratyahara in the midst of your normal activity becomes most significant and most important. Nay, it is indispensable. So, Pratyahara as a process has a greater importance to the Yogi in the normal context of worldly life than Pratyahara as a practice at a particular time just before meditation.

The Indispensability of Vichara and Viveka for Successful Pratyahara Practice Now, the moment you move towards the external scene, you are surrounded by external objects, and each external object has got its own fascination for you. Each external object has got its own attraction for your mind due to long association. And naturally, the moment you are amidst those objects, this attraction starts pulling you out, because the mind is constituted that way. Every object is found to be desirable for some purpose or the other. The fascination of Nama-Rupa to the Chitta is part of the function of Prakriti, because the whole of Prakriti is nothing but Maya, and Maya is full of this power of tremendous attraction to delude the Jiva. Therefore, if you have to keep up the process of Pratyahara during the hours of normal daily activity, you have to have the process of philosophical enquiry and discrimination constantly active. You must constantly exercise your faculty of discrimination to distinguish between what is real and what is unreal. This is what is known as Nitya-Anitya-Vastu-Viveka or Sat-Asat-Vastu- Viveka or Atma-Anatma-Vastu-Viveka. You must also reason thus: “This object is attracting me; my mind is being pulled towards it. The senses are bounding towards it. Is it going to bring me any good? Out of this, can I achieve my welfare? Is it going to be conducive to my peace of mind? Will I get real happiness out of it? What is it going to give me?” This is Vichara. This is enquiry. You must tell your mind: “This object will give me only more confusion, more Trishna, more restlessness and agitation. Where there is desire, there is agitation, restlessness of the mind. The more I give in to it, the more the desire will intensify and multiply. This is the Law. A desire that is around in the mind never subsides with the satisfaction of the same. On the contrary, satisfying the desire only makes the desire-fire to blaze up with renewed vigour, with redoubled vigour. Desire is like a fire being fed with oblation—Ghee or oil. It will not receive the oblation and subside; on the contrary, it will blaze forth with redoubled vigour. Fulfilling the desire, surely, is not the way to overcome it. So I must renounce the desire, give up the desire. Rushing towards sense-objects will bring only ruin upon me. It will bring about greater restlessness, greater intensification of desire, more agitation. No, I will not allow my mind to be dragged away by the senses towards these sense- objects”. Such Vichara should be there, active Vichara or philosophical enquiry. Upon the basis of what you have learnt from the scriptures, upon the basis of what your Guru has told you, upon the basis of what saints and sages have taught you as a result of their own experience of this world, this world is hollow, this world is only aMriga-Marichika, a mirage in the desert. You will run towards it and you will perish. Nothing will come; there is no water there. Therefore, do not be deluded by the sense-objects. Move away from them; be a Master. In the light of your own life in this world, you yourself know what bitter experiences you have by rushing towards objects. “Once bitten, twice shy” they say. Once you have known the real nature of fire, will you again go towards fire? Like that, upon the basis of your vivid recollection of your own previous experiences, upon the basis of whatever knowledge you have gleaned from your study of the scriptures, upon the basis of what your Guru has told you, upon the basis of the teachings of the saints and sages, you must be ever alert and vigilant and keep your discrimination constantly active. You must always do Vyavahara as a Viveki; then only you will be able to have Pratyahara in the midst of Vyavahara. If you want withdrawal and a state of detachment in the midst of active involvement in the objective universe, then this withdrawal is possible only if you constantly have this active philosophical enquiry into the illusory nature and the defective nature and the painful nature of sense-enjoyment. Where there is Vichara and Viveka, where there is such enquiry and such discrimination, then Pratyahara becomes progressive and successful. You can maintain Pratyahara in the midst of your activity. Then what happens? You come into contact with sense-objects, but they are never able to have their impact upon your inner consciousness. In your inner consciousness, you are always detached. The sense-objects may go only as far as the senses, they may go even as far as the inner centres of sense perception, but they will not be able to affect the mind, they will not be able to put the mind in a turmoil. They will not disturb your mind, much less your inner consciousness. Thus do you effectively succeed in preventing the external perceptions from making any impact upon your consciousness. What does that mean again? It means that you no longer create any new Samskaras. You no longer create any new Vasanas for yourself. Otherwise, the whole life is nothing but the almost continuous loading of your Chitta with more Samskaras and more Vasanas. If you go and involve yourself completely with external activities and objects, due to desires, due to attractions which make you succumb because of a lack of enquiry and discrimination, every sense perception, every experience, every sense contact that you engage in creates a new Samskara and a new Vasana. This is an unending process and you will never be able to liberate yourself. Already, a load of previous Samskaras and Vasanas are playing enough havoc by raising Chitta Vrittis within the mind, and the moment you sit for meditation these buried Samskaras and Vasanas are constantly coming to the surface and creating Vrittis and various ideas in the mind. That is enough. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. Why should you make a bad situation worse by acquiring new Samskaras and Vasanas? You may ask: “How can I prevent doing it?” Because, the moment you go into the external world, new Samskaras and Vasanas are created. The way of preventing new Samskaras and Vasanas is to see that no ultimate impact is made upon the consciousness even though hundreds of perceptions and sense contacts take place. Pratyahara effects this. Pratyahara succeeds in checking the sense perceptions from affecting the mind and touching the consciousness. The mind just refuses to take them in. They come to the outer sense organ or sense instrument; they come to the sense centre in the brain; but when they try to get to the mind, the mind says, “No. I do not want these. I shall not take these things”. The Rare Pratyahara of the Byzantine Monks Pratyahara, as we have seen already, has a number of specific phases. One is withdrawing the senses from the sense-objects. But it is possible only for a person isolated in seclusion—an Ekantavasi in complete seclusion. It is not possible for the vast majority of people. Bringing about a disconnection of the senses from the sense-objects, going away from all sense-objects, going into absolute seclusion or Ekantavas is certainly not for the vast majority. But, for the few who manage it, there are no sense-objects, there is no sense world, there is no cinema, no radio, no T.V. There is no Gulab Jamun, Jhangri and Pakodi; there is no silk and gabardine and velvet. Nothing. They have only the jungle and the rock and the river. Some monks isolate themselves even today in the Christian monastic set-up, where, the moment they enter into a monastery and are ordained as monks, they become dead to the external world. Inside the monastery, there is no contact with the outside world at all. They cannot receive any mail, they cannot read any newspaper, they cannot read any book. They are absolutely dead to the world. Their monastic routine completely absorbs their entire attention day after day, month after month, year after year, until they die and are buried. And when they are buried, no identification mark is put upon their graves. Only a cross is put; we do not know whose body is lying underneath. No name, no date of birth or death. So, these monks, even when they are alive, are dead to the world, completely isolated. They do not know what goes on in the outside world. Even today there are a certain set of monks living in a certain part of Greece who are still living in a state of time that existed more than a thousand years ago. They follow a certain time- schedule which is called the Byzantian Time, because they went into this area and settled down as monks in the time of the Byzantian Empire, and that Byzantian Time is about six to six and a half hours in advance of our time. When it is six or seven in the morning here, it is already noon or midday for them. So, their sunrise and day start at about 1-30 a.m. when their clock will show 6-30 a.m. So, they still live only according to their time. When it is 7-00 a.m. in our timepiece, it is already midday, past midday, for them. So, they live according to that time even today. They belong to the Eastern Church, not the Western Church which has its allegiance to Rome, to the Vatican, to the Pope. They do not have any Pope. They are called the Eastern Church and they also call themselves the Orthodox Church. There are two groups—one belonging to Russia (the Russian Orthodox Church) and one belonging to Greece (the Greek Orthodox Church)—and they still maintain that old tradition. Generally, putting the two Orthodox Churches together, they call it the Eastern Church, as distinguished from the Western Church which is founded under the Pope in the Vatican. So, the Byzantine monks live a life totally oblivious of what goes on in the outside world. Many of the Byzantine monks in Greece, when I went there, did not know that two wars had taken place in 1914 and in 1948. They did not know who Hitler was and who Mussolini was; they did not know that World War II took place; they did not know that the atom bomb was dropped. They knew nothing. It was all news to them. They said, “We do not know what is going on in the outside world”. And they do not know. They live there and they die there and very few of those people are left now, because new candidates and novitiates are not freely forthcoming now as in olden days to enter into that order of monastic life. And many of the big monasteries there are vacant. The place is called Mount Ethos. So, the Pratyahara life of those monks is something totally different. They have nothing to do with the external world.

The Different Phases in the Process of Pratyahara But, for the vast majority of people who are in the outer context, Pratyahara becomes an indispensable requisite for entering into still deeper realms of the Yogic process, namely, concentration and meditation. In the lives of those who have isolated themselves, the question of further impact does not come, because they have no sense-objects around them. But, for those who have sense-objects around them, the first disengagement, namely, the withdrawal of the senses from the sense-objects is not possible. In their case, the senses are very much involved in the sense-objects and the withdrawal of the senses from the sense-objects is possible only at the time of their meditation. They go into their meditation room and close the door and then there are no sense-objects around then except the picture of their Ishta Devata, the picture of their Guru and their Japa Mala and Svadhyaya book. But, for the rest of the time, they are very much involved in the sense-objects and the first withdrawal is not possible. The second withdrawal is the withdrawal of the sense centre or the perceiving centre in the brain from the actual sense. Let the eye look, let the eye see, but you do not involve yourself in this process of seeing. It is with reference to this withdrawal that both in the Upanishads and in the Gospel of Christ it is said that the ultimate realisation is possible only for that seeker who, even though having ears, does not hear, who even though having eyes, does not see. Such a seeker is blind even though having eyes. He is deaf even though having ears. That is the nature of the person who, even though he lives in the world, yet makes himself dead to the world, by refusing to allow his inner perception centres to cooperate with the outer organs of the senses. He succeeds in detaching the inner perceiving centres from the outer sense organs. But then, if this is not possible, or if somehow or the other an impression is made on the inner perceiving centre, then even as you are perceiving the object, let your mind say, “Yes, I see this, but I have nothing to do with it”. This last withdrawal involves detachment of the mind; it involves the severing of the mind’s link with the process of perception, with the act of perception. In the beginning stages of Sadhana, the moment perception takes place, the mind becomes involved, because the mind is still in a state of desire and craving, in a state of Asha-Trishna. In that case, the “I” of the Sadhak which identifies itself with the awakened intellect, the Suddha Buddhi or the Jagrat Buddhi—which is now his best friend because it is Vichara-Yukta and Vivekatmaka— comes to his rescue. His Buddhi is now combined with active enquiry, combined with Viveka or discrimination. So, the ego-consciousness identifies itself with the awakened, discriminating and enquiring intellect and says, “I refuse to involve myself even in the mind. I refuse to identify myself with this state of the mind, with this condition of the mind, when it is perceiving this sense-object, when it is involved in this sense-object. I refuse to associate myself with this condition of the mind”. So, the Sadhak who is endowed with this discriminating intellect now steps back and becomes only the detached witnessing consciousness. This is the withdrawal of the ego or the “I”, the awakened “I”, the discriminating “I”, from the mental involvement in perception. So, one or the other of these phases of Pratyahara should always be present in your Antahkarana. The first one is not possible for the people who are involved in the world. The second, third and fourth phases should be actively exercised; they should be dynamically present in your Antahkarana at any time. Thus, Pratyahara is a continuous process. And for this withdrawal, constant exercise of enquiry and discrimination are indispensable. They are also part of it.

The Significance of Pratyahara from the Scientific and the Metaphysical Angles And this process of Pratyahara has a very important significance in the overall practice of Raja Yoga and its special significance is twofold. One is the purely scientific significance—the significance of Pratyahara as an integral part or process of Raja Yoga as an exact science, a science of mind-discipline, a science of concentrating the scattered mind, a science of focussing the concentrated mind upon a single object, a science of practising this focussing in a continuous and unbroken manner. So, Pratyahara is a purely scientific process. So, from this scientific angle, Pratyahara becomes important and significant in the sense that unless you first of all withdraw the mind from being externalised, concentration is impossible. The question of concentration can never arise unless first of all the externalised mind is withdrawn. Only if you first succeed in withdrawing or internalising the externalised mind, only then can you try to bring about a centralisation of it inwardly. When the mind is not even inward, how can you centralise it? When the nature of the mind is completely extrovert and the mind is externalised, where comes the question of your trying to centralise it? First of all, bring it in. Then, within the context or framework of your interior, when the mind is still thinking of other objects, try to gather it together. Try to subdue its restless objectward motion or thought and try to bring it together. So, from the scientific point of view, Pratyahara becomes the indispensable qualification or prerequisite in order to be able to think of Dharana or concentration. No Pratyahara, no concentration. Unless you withdraw yourself, unless you withdraw your mind from the external things, you cannot have concentration. So, inner Yoga is impossible without first becoming well established in Pratyahara. Antaranga Yoga depends entirely upon successful practice of Pratyahara. Now, leaving aside the scientific angle, from the metaphysical or philosophical angle also, you will find that Pratyahara becomes very, very significant. It becomes very, very significant in the context of the basic thesis, the prime thesis of Yoga. What is the prime thesis of Yoga? That all our woes, all our complications and all our problems have arisen due to the Purusha becoming involved in Prakriti. And the whole science of Yoga has been formulated in order to enable the Purusha to successfully disentangle himself from Prakriti and remain in his own pristine independent condition or native state. And in the context of this prime thesis of the philosophy and metaphysics behind Yoga, you find now that Pratyahara plays a very significant part or forms a very significant phase in the Yogi’s attempt to disengage and disentangle himself from his involvement in Prakriti. Now, what is the anatomy of your involvement in Prakriti? Through the channel of the senses the mind has been pulled out and embroiled or entangled in the objective universe. Why? Because the senses are turbulent, because the senses are outward-going, because the senses tend objectward, because the very nature of the senses is Vishayonmukha. And through the senses the mind is dragged out, and through the mind the Purusha gets completely involved in Prakriti, because the Purusha is in a state of total identification with the mind, which is one of its important Upadhis or limiting adjuncts. So, the Purusha weeps and wails, says, “Hai, hai”, and is hopelessly imprisoned and entangled. And in this process of liberating the Purusha from Prakriti, Pratyahara takes on an added significance. In the context of this philosophical background of the basic thesis of Raja Yoga, Pratyahara becomes an important phase of the Purusha—the Yogi—disentangling himself from involvement in outer nature or Prakriti, the world of names and forms, of Nama-Rupa, the world of Vishaya- Vastu, the world of Maya. In short, Pratyahara is the process of withdrawing yourself from Prakriti in the form of the external world of sense-objects. And so it has a very, very significant role, a specially meaningful role, in the overall process of the Purusha trying to disentangle himself from Prakriti once for all. So, that is the special place that Pratyahara occupies in the context of Dharana, Dhyana and Samadhi both in a scientific sense and also in relation to the ultimate liberation of the Purusha from Prakriti from the angle of the metaphysics and philosophy behind Raja Yoga.

INDISPENSABLE AIDS TO THE PRACTICE OF PRATYAHARA Pratyahara is roughly translated as “withdrawal”. Withdrawal, it has already been seen, is an indispensable prerequisite to concentration. If you want to centralise the mind, first of all, it has to be interiorised. Because, if the mind is completely externalised and scattered over many things in this outer world of names and forms and human affairs, how can the question of concentration arise in such a mind? It is totally unequipped for centralising or focussing. It is not even inside. It is scattered over the seen world which is hundred per cent Prakriti or Maya as long as we perceive it through the senses. But the same outer world is seen by the illumined Brahma Jnani as Parabrahman through his Sakshatkara Anubhava, and so he says, “Sarvam Khalvidam Brahma; Sarvam Vishnumayam Jagat”. For him, there is no Prakriti at all; there is Parabrahman only. The whole of the external universe is nothing but Parabrahman for him. “Sarvam Sivamayam” he says, “Sarvam Khalvidam Brahma”. And the scriptures go on to say that there is nothing else besides Brahman—Neha Nanasti Kinchana. But that is a question of Sakshatkara. Whereas, our approach to this whole human situation of bondage and suffering is from the point of view of the Mumukshu, a Jijnasu who is in Ajnana.

A Word of Caution The Mumukshu is not a liberated soul or a Jivanmukta Purusha. He is only a struggling soul, caught in the net of the bondage of Raga-Dvesha, of Asha-Trishna. So, we cannot apply the Sakshatkara principle to the actual situation of the Jivatma. And we cannot say that there is no Prakriti. We have to very much accept Prakriti. One little sight, one little sound upsets us, makes us completely forget our Self our real Svarupa, our Purushahood and makes us completely enslaved by passion, anger, greed, hatred, anxiety, fear, depression and dejection. We are subject to so many mental modifications, Chitta-Vrittis. So, in this situation, we cannot ride the high horse of Brahma-Jnana or Jivanmuktahood. We cannot truthfully say, “I am transcendental Purusha or Atman”. We may practise saying it for the purpose of ultimate realisation. Such practice is called Brahma-Abhyasa Brahma-Chintana. We may practise affirming our real nature and asserting it. But on the practical side, we have to behave with caution and commonsense. We cannot foolishly run into situations which will make us turn a somersault and have a terrible fall and weep. We have to be very, very careful in going about in our Vyavahara, because we are still very much in the grip of the original self-forgetfulness or non-awareness. We are very much in the grip of delusion, of Maya. So, Gurudev used to say, “It is all right to say that Brahman is beyond time, space and causation. There is no world for the Brahma- Jnanis. It is all right for them to say, ‘I am Brahman; I am Jnana-Svarupa’. But, so far as you are concerned, if someone calls you a fool, you are immediately thrown into a violent temper, you are ready to quarrel with him, you are ready to fight, even to raise your fist. Let alone that, supposing you go and stand before some person and he is occupied with some other work, and does not pay attention to you, you feel very humiliated. You feel insulted. You will begin to think, ‘Oh! This man is treating me like this’. So, let alone someone doing some harm to you, if someone fails to do something which you are expecting him to do, you feel very insulted. You salute someone and he does not return it, because he did not notice it perhaps, but you feel very bothered. Your whole mental mood changes. It is all fine for you to say that there is no world in the three periods of time, but if you find that someone has forgotten to put salt in your Dal, immediately you cannot eat your food; you become upset. You say, ‘What is this? You have not put salt’. Supposing someone gives you tea without sugar, your Brahmanhood is nowhere. You immediately become upset in the absence of sugar in your tea. You do not drink it as it is. You will demand sugar and ask for it and complain, ‘No sugar has been put in my tea, no salt has been put in my Dal’. So, do not imagine things. Try to know where you are and start your Sadhana from that place”. Gurudev used to say all this. You are surrounded by Prakriti; you are surrounded by various manifestations of Prakriti. And so the mind is externalised and scattered amongst the various names and forms and objects, and human situations and affairs, which constitute Prakriti. It is thus in a state of involvement with external Prakriti in all its various forms. And this situation is the very antithesis of the ultimate Yogic state that you are trying to reach.

Pratyahara—Start of the Return Journey to the Absolute The metaphysical thesis and the philosophical background of Patanjali’s Yoga Darshana says that you have to separate yourself completely from Prakriti and once again regain your splendid isolation as the independent Purusha, untouched by Prakriti and beyond all afflictions, supreme and in a state of perfection. Now you are involved in Prakriti; your mind is externalised, scattered amidst the various objects and experiences and affairs that constitute Prakriti. And there is the other experience awaiting you towards which you have to work, slowly and diligently, perseveringly. Your present situation and the situation you are aiming at are two extremes and therefore the need for Pratyahara. There is the need to practise Pratyahara. If you want to change your present situation which is the very opposite or contradiction of the ultimate state you are trying to reach through Samadhi and superconsciousness, you have to make a start somewhere. And so, the very commencement of the metaphysical transformation you are aiming to bring about is Pratyahara. In the Kathopanishad, this deplorable state of man is clearly mentioned when Yama tries to make Nachiketas understand that Brahma, the Creator, made the mind outgoing at the very time of creation. So, by its very innate tendencies, the mind is outgoing, because Rajo-Guna is present in it in considerable measure. Therefore, the Jivatma beholds only the outer universe and not the inner Self; and beholding only the outer universe, the Jivatma is subject to change, decay, modification and destruction. The Jivatma finds no happiness; he weeps. And once a person recognises the situation, the cause of one’s suffering, the cause of one’s weeping, the cause of one’s disappointment and frustration in trying to get happiness out of the external universe, the cause of one’s disillusionment, once a person realises the situation he is in, if he has got real stuff in him, he makes up his mind about it all. “No, no” he says, “Happiness does not lie outside. I have made a great mistake, I have committed a great blunder. I shall reverse this state of affairs”. Thus making a firm Sankalpa and determination, that exceptional being, that exceptional person, tries to reverse this process by making the mind go inward, by closing the doors of the senses, because he aspires to find true happiness, and he has understood now through Sruti-Vakya, Apta-Vakya and his own experience that real happiness and satisfaction is found in the Atman and not in the outer world of change and modification and decay. So he turns the gaze away from the outside and directs the vision inside. This is Pratyahara—turning the gaze away from the external and directing it towards the inner Self. Some rare exceptional person, with stuff, with determination, with courage of conviction, with firm faith in the scriptures, in the words of the Guru, in the words of the elders, he it is that turns his gaze within. He turns his gaze within. Why? Because he desires to attain the indwelling Self. The rest of the masses, the majority of people that is, the great flock, they see only the external universe, they do nothing to change the situation; they do nothing to reverse the natural tendency of the mind. They allow it to flow through the senses towards the objective universe because they think that the objective universe is the only reality that exists. There is no other Reality. For them, seeing is believing. What they perceive through the five senses, that is all there is. There is nothing else beyond. They cannot conceive of anything else beyond. So, foolishly thinking in this irrational short-sighted way, like children lacking proper vision and higher understanding, they make their life an entire affair of allowing their mind to flow through the senses and perceive only the external objects, and thus allowing, they get caught in the widespread net of Maya. And they come again and again into this world. There is no end to their wheel of birth and death. “Punarapi Jananam Punarapi Maranam Punarapi Jananee Jatare Sayanam”. There is no end to this wheel. Again and again they go and come back, and weep and wail and laugh, and again go and come back. This ever-recurring wheel of death and rebirth, and death and rebirth, goes on for those small-minded ones, lacking understanding, thinking like children. Instead of thinking and acting like mature wise people, they think like children. So they come again and again into this world. Whereas, the Mumukshu is a Dheera, the Jijnasu is a Dheera, like Markandeya, like Nachiketas, like Dhruva, like Prahlada, Satyakama and Svetaketu. They are Dheeras; they are people with the exceptional stuff. They have got inner strength, courage to follow their beliefs, and faith, and so they make all the effort that is necessary and turn the gaze away. They reverse the process of the natural tendency of the mind and try to take it inward towards the Eka or the One, instead of towards the Aneka or the many that lie outside. They try to take the mind towards the Sattva instead of towards the Nama-Rupa. They try to take the mind towards the Nitya instead of towards the Anitya. That is Pratyahara. And, from the purely psychological point of view, the purely scientific point of view, as a technique, you cannot do Dharana unless you have got Pratyahara. Pratyahara is an Abhyasa or a technique or a process that is indispensable if you have to carry out Dharana. If you must concentrate the mind, first of all the mind must be brought in, the mind must be made to come together; it must be turned inward. And this needs also sense-control. Unless you have got sense-control, you cannot do Pratyahara. If the senses are turbulent and always bounding towards the Vishaya-Vastu or the worldly objects, you cannot do Pratyahara. So, it requires Brahmacharya to do Pratyahara successfully.

Brahmacharya and Pratyahara Brahmacharya means that pattern of conduct, that lifestyle, which leads to ultimate Brahma-Jnana. So, Brahmacharya is a comprehensive term. That is why Patanjali has laid it down in his Niyama. Brahmacharya means self-control. Tapasya includes self-control. Therefore arises the necessity of Tapasya in relation to Pratyahara, of Brahmacharya in relation to Pratyahara. Unless you have self-control, self-restraint, you cannot have Pratyahara. The mind will continue to be bothered by the uncontrolled and turbulent senses. The senses have to be kept in check. The senses have to be disciplined. The senses have to be trained, have to be subdued; and therefore, Yama and Niyama are to be practised throughout the entire course of your Yogic ascent right up to the point of Samadhi. Otherwise, if you do not keep up Yama and Niyama always with you, even after attaining the state of Dhyana, you can have a downfall. Even a Yogi can have a great downfall. So, you can never underestimate the importance of Yama and Niyama. You can never understate the need to keep them along with you right up till the last stages of the Yogic ascent.

Vairagya and Pratyahara Secondly, if Pratyahara is to be successful, you must have Vairagya. What is it that drives the mind outside seeking sense satisfaction and sensual enjoyment? What is it that drives the mind outside? It is desire. It is Asha and Trishna. It is the thirst for sense enjoyment. It is Raga. Unless you develop dispassion towards the external world, towards objective enjoyment and objective possessions, unless you say, “No, I do not want anything”, you cannot engage in successful Pratyahara. And unless you practise Pratyahara, you cannot get established in Vairagya or dispassion. So they are both interdependent. Pratyahara helps in becoming more and more well grounded in Vairagya. Vairagya helps in succeeding in the process of Pratyahara. Without Vairagya you cannot have Pratyahara and Pratyahara is necessary to become well established in Vairagya. Now, ask yourself a question. Why is it that the Jivatma has so many desires, so many cravings? “I must enjoy this. I must possess this. I must come into contact with this.” Why all this craving? Vedanta tells you that it is due to a basic Avichara, a basic lack of proper philosophical enquiry. You do not keep up this enquiry continuously—this enquiry into the real nature of things, this enquiry into the real nature of the so-called sensual enjoyment. If you make a right enquiry, philosophy will tell you that this is not enjoyment, but this is suffering. What you think to be happiness is actually suffering. It is the cause of further suffering. Because, you go towards enjoyment and you become enslaved by it. You become addicted to it. If you do not find it you suffer. So, what you think to be enjoyment is actually suffering. These enjoyments that come due to the contact between the senses and the respective sense-objects—they are a source of sorrow, a source of suffering. Now a little bit of enjoyment, but afterwards suffering. “Ye Hi Samsparsaja Bhoga Duhkha Yonaya Eva Te” Who says this? Lord Krishna Himself. So, there is no real happiness here. Misery is mistaken for happiness, pain is mistaken for pleasure, because this happiness increases your craving. It makes it all the more. By satisfying your desire, you intensify your desire, and when you intensify your desire, it becomes a source of great agitation and mental restlessness. The more the desire, the more the restlessness. And where there is such restlessness in the mind, there cannot be happiness. When there is Ashanti in the Manas, in the Chitta, how can there be happiness? Ashantasya Kutah Sukham? There cannot be real happiness where there is constant agitation, constant restlessness in the mind due to countless desires and cravings. They are all together and you do not realise it, because you do not carry on Vichara. Where there is proper Vichara and Viveka, Vairagya is possible. Where there is no Vichara and Viveka, Vairagya is not sustained, Vairagya is not Pucca, it is not ripe, it is Kachcha. Sometimes it will help you, and at other times, at the time of need, it will abandon you. Vairagya will vanish, and you will be foolish, and to use an English expression, you will find yourself in a soup. You will get into hot waters. Why? Because of temporary abandonment of Vairagya. And you will commit some very foolish thing. Then, afterwards, Vairagya will come again. Afterwards, you will remember Vairagya. So they say that it is better to avoid getting into a wrong situation rather than get into a wrong situation, repent, open one’s eyes, and afterwards try to correct oneself. Be wise. Arise, awake. Be wise. Understand that discrimination and enquiry are very, very important in order to become established in Vairagya, by which alone successful and effective Pratyahara is possible.

Svadhyaya and Pratyahara Also understand the relevance of Svadhyaya to Pratyahara, because it is through Svadhyaya that the Yogi is able to keep his Vichara and Viveka fresh and alive or active. With daily Svadhyaya, you begin to get a deeper and deeper understanding into the real nature of the world and things. Svadhyaya brings you wisdom. Svadhyaya brings you awakening. Svadhyaya keeps your Vichara and Viveka keen and sharp. That is the value of Svadhyaya and that is the connection between Svadhyaya and Pratyahara. And thus, with the help of Brahmacharya, with the help of Tapascharya, with the help of Svadhyaya, if you have your senses under control, and if you keep your Viveka and Vichara keen and active, then gradually, becoming an Avruta- Chakshu Jijnasu, becoming endowed with an internalised gaze, with the mind turned away from the external outside, you are able to gradually prepare yourself for the higher stage of Dharana or concentration. This withdrawal of Pratyahara should be supported by Brahmacharya, supported by Tapasya, supported by Svadhyaya, and supported by the Vichara and Viveka developed through Svadhyaya, and it should be always bolstered by Vairagya. Vairagya is very, very important if you must successfully practise Pratyahara. And in this process of Pratyahara, gradually you begin to progress and advance in keeping your mind always internalised, not moving towards the senses but moving towards the Self, the inner focal point within. And as you progress in this practice of Pratyahara, a stage comes when the senses gradually begin to change their nature, begin to give up their Vishayonmukha Svabhava, their innate tendency of always going towards the external objects, of always going towards their respective sense- objects. That nature they gradually begin to give up, having understood through Viveka, through Vichara, through Svadhyaya, through Satsanga, the foolishness of moving towards the external objects, having understood that the external world is an empty chimera, that there is no pleasure there, that there is no happiness there, that there is only pain there. By going towards fire, you will only get burnt. A child is attracted towards the brightness, the brilliance, of fire. And if it touches the fire, it will get burnt. In the same way, the moth goes towards its destruction by plunging towards a bright flame. The Sadhaka begins to understand that, likewise, in the glittering external world, there lies only harm or injury, unhappiness, sorrow, lamentation. Once this idea is firmly implanted in the mind, the senses come under the influence of this new knowledge. Formerly there was a situation when the mind was constantly being influenced by the senses, powered by the senses, dragged by the senses. And now, a certain change has come over the mind. The whole situation is now reversed. Now, the senses, instead of influencing the mind, become influenced by the mind, because the mind has become established in Vichara and Viveka and Vairagya, and has become well-grounded in its new attitude to the external world. So it says, “No, my welfare does not lie there. My happiness lies inside”. The mind becomes well established in this conviction and determines not to go outside but to go inside. What happens then? This new determination of the mind has its impact upon the senses, and in this new situation the mind begins to influence the senses. And the senses now decide: “No, we will not drag the leader. We will follow the leader. The mind is our leader. We will do as he says”. So the senses stay put; they no longer bound towards the sense-objects, but they acquire a state of repose. They consent to stay where they are and they give up their old habitual, innate tendency of going outward. So, the senses attain a state of Dama. The senses become subdued, they become docile, and they decide to follow the mind. So, they also become internalised. They stay in their centres. They do not bother the Yogi any more. They no longer present themselves as factors which distract the mind and agitate the mind. So, the problem gets overcome. Instead of the mind being dragged out by the senses, the senses now consent to be brought inside by the mind. They follow the new tendencies of the awakened mind dominated by Vichara and Viveka, dominated by Vairagya, dominated by a higher discrimination. Such a situation becomes most suitable and helpful for the Yoga practitioner to take up the actual process of concentration or Dharana.

MORE ABOUT PRATYAHARA We tried to bring out in the last chapter how the fifth Anga of Raja Yoga, namely, Pratyahara, is not possible unless it is supported by Vairagya, Viveka and Vichara. We tried to bring out the connection between Svadhyaya and Vichara and Viveka. Vichara and Viveka are supported by Satsanga, Svadhyaya and Sravana. Just as Svadhyaya provides material for contemplation and concentration, material for a permanent spiritual background of thought, even so, it provides right inspiration and right guidance for the Sadhak’s Vichara and Viveka. It provides an insight into the real nature of this world and exposes the hollowness of sensual objects and sensual enjoyments. When the Sadhaka’s eyes are opened thus by Svadhyaya, by his recognising the hollowness of things, the Raga or worldly attachment which he had formerly changes into Vairagya. The false notion or Viparita Jnana which he had, that objects are desirable, that objective enjoyments are pleasurable, now yields place to the recognition, to the realisation, that objects are sources of pain. They are, on the contrary, the source of restlessness in the mind which destroys one’s happiness. The more the desires, the greater the restlessness in the mind. The more you satisfy the desires, the more do they intensify and the greater the agitation in the Chitta. Where the Chitta is thus always agitated and full of Ashanti, there cannot be any Sukha.

The Role of Svadhyaya in Arousing Viveka How does this recognition come? How does the Sadhaka come to be aware of this aspect of the world, of this real nature of the sense-objects, the sense contacts, and the sense enjoyments born out of the sense contacts? Through Svadhyaya, through Sravana, through Satsanga. Thus, Svadhyaya plays its further role of helping Viveka and Vichara and inducing Vairagya, all of which are indispensable for effective and successful Pratyahara. Otherwise, you may draw the mind away from the objective universe a hundred times or even a thousand times, and yet, it will go back again to the Vishayas like a street dog always strolling in the lanes and bylanes after castaway food, no matter how impure, how Uchhishtha or Jhuta it may be. Even if the dog is kicked out or stoned or shooed away, even then it will come again. It will return to the same place; it is never tired. It is only when the conviction is laid deep in the mind as a result of repeated intake of the right type of instruction and knowledge that the Sadhak’s way of thinking gradually changes. It is only then that the Sadhak’s ways of looking at things and appraising them changes. What he once thought desirable, he now knows to be undesirable. What he once thought was the surest way of getting happiness, he now knows is all folly. That way lies misery; that way lies entanglement. In this manner, the Sadhak’s approach, his view of things, changes. His evaluation of experiences takes on a new quality and he begins to see things with the eye of discrimination. He comes to realise the truth of the saying, “Sarvam Duhkham Vivekinah”. To a Viveki, to one in whom discrimination has been aroused, everything is pain only. The Viveki sees no pleasure. He sees only pain. And this gradually growing conviction in the mind fortifies and supports his Pratyahara. However, right from the very start, we have to see how Pratyahara is not just some technique only, but rather more a way of moving about in the world. Pratyahara is a continuing state of our mind even in the midst of varied occupations in the outer world in different fields of human activity—a state of mind in which discrimination is always active, in which philosophical enquiry is always present, in which the mind is always awake and alert, in which it does not want to go out, jump towards objects, but wishes to remain within always. Pratyahara is a state of mind in which there is awareness—psychological, moral and metaphysical awareness. There is psychological awareness; the Sadhak is aware of the state in which his mind is, whether it is hankering after outer things or whether it is staying put. There is moral and ethical awareness— the Sadhak is aware that he has taken the vows of Ahimsa, Satyam, Brahmacharya, Asteya and Aparigraha and that he is to abide by these vows as a Sadhaka, as a Raja Yogi. So he is aware that he must not budge from these vows, that he must strictly adhere to these vows, and therefore he cannot allow his mind to behave as the mind of an ordinary person in this world whose entire approach in this world is enjoyment-oriented, sense-oriented, indulgence-oriented. The Sadhak tells himself, “No, I am in the very opposite. I am risen into a very different plane of living and behaving”. This moral and ethical awareness is there in the mind. It helps Pratyahara. And metaphysical and philosophical awareness also is there. The Sadhak feels: “My real identity is that of the Purusha, divine, independent, ever-free, liberated from the clutches of Prakriti, liberated from all afflictions. And the environment in which I ammoving, this outer surrounding, is Prakriti and my great mission is to see that Imaintain my Purushahood. I should not get caught or entangled in Prakriti. Therefore I should move through these objects as an Anasakta Purusha, as a Nirlipta Anasakta Purusha, as an unattached spiritual being, as a spiritual entity. My mission is to free myself and liberate myself from Prakriti which is the outer universe with its various names and forms. So, while I am in the midst of these names and forms, I should not be of them. I must be detached. I must live in this world like the lotus lives in the pond untouched by water”. This constant awareness in the Sadhak is part of the picture of successful Pratyahara, is part of the picture of effective Pratyahara. So, if Pratyahara is to be practised successfully, the inner contents of your mind should be characterised by this threefold awareness.

Keeping a Metaphysical Awareness of the One in the Midst of the Many We have further supportive material in the scriptures in the matter of this ongoing process of a life characterised by Pratyahara. Pratyahara is to direct the vision towards the One, even while being compelled to move in the midst of the many; and the scriptures suggest to the Yogi a certain Sadhana by which even while in the midst of the many, he may be centred in the One and that Sadhana is called Brahmabhyasa in Vedanta. Of course, that Sadhana becomes possible after serious discipleship and earnest and diligent study of Vedanta. The Mumukshu, sitting at the feet of the Guru, listens repeatedly to the exposition of the Great Truth. He is told again and again the Great Truth in diverse ways, through many illustrations. For instance, they say that no matter how variegated may be the items of pottery you may be beholding at a moment in the house of a potter, you are beholding only one element and that is clay. So many different shapes and sizes and varieties of pottery may be there that may be attracting your eye by their artistic quality, craftsmanship and delicacy; yet you are aware that you are beholding only clay. In a shop dealing in textile goods, innumerable varieties of cloth, different in colour, texture and style, may be there. You may behold a bed-sheet, a table-cloth, a handkerchief, a towel, a shirt, a Pyjama, a gown, a pillowcase, a curtain; yet, you are looking only at cotton; you are seeing nothing but cotton, whether it is coloured red, white, blue, green, purple or yellow. Similarly, in a goldsmith’s shop, varieties of jewellery may be there—all different in their size, in their purpose, all meant for different parts of the body. The bracelets, rings and necklaces may reveal wonderful craftsmanship and intricate design. But ultimately, aman of discrimination knows that he is looking only at one thing and not at many things; he knows that he is looking only at gold, though that gold is beaten into different forms and given different names. The substance is one only and that is gold. There is only cotton in a textile shop. There is only clay in a potter’s shop. In the same way, there is only one Brahman in the universe, though sporting in diverse names and forms. Sings Tukaram: “Vyapuni Jagata Tuhi Ananta, Bahuvidha Rupa Ghesi Ghesi, Pari Anti Brahma Ekale, Pari Anti Brahma Ekale.” What is the meaning? “Vyapuni Jagata Tuhi Ananta”— Pervading the entire universe, Thou art the Infinite One. “Bahuvidha Rupa Ghesi Ghesi”—Thou taketh numerous varieties of form. “Pari Anti Brahma Ekale”—But when you look at it ultimately, there is nothing except one Brahman, that One Supreme Eternal Essence called Brahman, Satya. This is a Bhakta’s realisation of Vedanta. The Vedantin, of course, says, “Sarvam Khalvidam Brahma”. And if the Yogi on the path of Yoga gradually tries to imbibe this vision gradually, then it becomes to him a tremendous help while he is at the practice of Pratyahara. No matter upon what object his senses may alight, no matter towards what object his eye may set or his ear may be directed, he feels that there is but one Tattva only. There is Brahman within and there is Brahman without. There is only one thing. So he tries to successfully overcome the distracting influences of the outer environment by trying to be rooted in his vision of oneness, thus keeping his Pratyahara supported by the lofty revelations of the scriptures, so that whether he is in Abhyasa or whether he is in Vyavahara, his mind is not distracted, his mind is not scattered and dispersed in the many. For, amidst the many, he trains himself to become aware of the One. He says that the many is only an outward appearance and that, in truth, it conceals the One. “Eko Deva Sarvabhuteshu Gudah” The inner consciousness, as the witness of all modifications, physical and mental, attributeless, untouched by the five sheaths, untouched by the three bodies, ever the same and unaffected in all the three periods of consciousness—that is Brahman, the Supreme, the One. That innermost Reality is one and it is present in all things, hidden in all things, like butter in milk, like oil in oilseeds. It is hidden, but it is there. Thus, with the support of such great truths expounded in the scriptures, founded upon revelations, founded upon the experiences of the great ones, the Yogi tries to be in a state of inwardness even while moving and acting in the outer plane of many objects. Thus, the Yogi’s Pratyahara is supported by all these different levels of awareness in the mind—psychological awareness, moral awareness of having taken certain great vows never to deviate from them, metaphysical or philosophical awareness of one’s own Purushahood and of the ultimate truth that there is only One in the midst of the many. The result is that no matter where the senses may take the Yogi’s mind, it cannot be away from the presence of the great Reality; and a stage comes in the practice of Pratyahara of the Yogi that even in the midst of the many, even in the midst of the most distracting situations, he is not distracted because his inner gaze is fixed upon the One that is present in the midst of the many.

Some Practical Exercises in Pratyahara Then, as a discipline and as a practice, various exercises are suggested in the light of the practical experience of the Yogis. For instance, try to sit in your study, take up a book and start reading. At the same time, keep a timepiece, a few feet away to your right. Close your book and concentrate upon the ticking sound of the clock for some minutes until you are fully aware of the continuous ticking of the clock. Then, say to yourself: “I shall not be disturbed by it; I am going to take my mind away from it. I shall give my mind entirely to the study”. Then open your book, start reading and strongly order the mind that it shall no longer pay any attention to the ticking of the clock; withdraw your attention from there and fix it upon the reading. Practise this till you become totally oblivious to the ticking of the timepiece. Then, proceed even further into a still more difficult aspect of the same exercise. Close the book, close your eyes, sit straight and try to concentrate upon an inner focal point; it may even be an idea from the book itself. Try to fix your mind upon it; it may be a Sloka or it may be an inner object. Try to fix your mind upon that and tell your mind, “You are now no longer aware of that clock; your mind is now going to be fixed upon this”. And try practising Dharana or concentration, completely ignoring the previous sound. Go on doing it until you succeed. You are not aware of the sound. The sound is there, but you are not aware of it. You are completely successful in fixing your mind within. Here is another exercise. Put a soft piece of candy in your mouth, a soft piece of candy like a piece of chocolate or a toffee. Do you know what will happen? Immediately the teeth will want to chew upon it; immediately the tongue will want to start tasting it. And normally, the very fact of your having put the piece of tasty candy inside your mouth instantaneously makes the entire mouth start working, and within half a minute, the whole thing is finished. The candy is not there. But you put the candy in your mouth as a Yogi and say, “I am not going to touch it, I am not going to interfere with it. I am not going to chew upon it. I am not going to pass my tongue over it. Let it dissolve by itself if it wants”. So, sit with your candy and start repeating your Bhagavad Gita mentally or start repeating your Japa mentally or start recollecting some passage from some scripture mentally and do not allow the mind to pay attention to the candy in your mouth. Take the mind away from your Rasana, from your sense of taste, and try to engage in some process other than tasting. This is Pratyahara. This is a practice in Pratyahara. A third exercise. As you move along the road, because of the inveterate habit of the mind, the gaze will not be fixed in one place; it will always be roving about. And simultaneously with this, it has also the tendency to go searching after pleasant sights, sights that please or tempt or stimulate the sense of seeing. The Pratyahara exercise is that you must withdraw this gaze. Gurudev used to say that the Yogi, when he walks along the bazaar, will have his gaze fixed on the ground, just two or two and a half yards ahead of him. He will not be looking hither and thither like a monkey. He will walk in a dignified way, with his gaze fixed upon the ground only. He will have his head straight. You will have to practise this. You do not have to assume the pose of a bride sitting in a Mantapam, but your head and face should be straight. And your gaze should be on the ground, two yards in front of you. Like that you should walk in the most crowded and attractive bazaar. These are practices in Pratyahara. You can devise similar Sadhanas for yourself according to your facility, your need, your nature. Sabda, Sparsa, Rupa, Rasa and Gandha—they are the factors that take the mind out and make it scattered and get caught in the outside universe. Counter them.Make devices of your own and practise Pratyahara in a variety of ways. And never forget that the greatest support that your practice of Pratyahara can receive is ultimately through the great declarations of the scriptures which enable you to be centred in the Self even in the midst of the multifarious objects of the universe. And thus, diligently practise the central truths of Vedanta, the central truths of Bhakti Yoga. “He who sees Me in all things and he who sees all things in Me, between us there is no separation. I shall not lose hold of him and he will not move away from Me.” So says the Lord in the Srimad Bhagavad Gita. It is a suggestion to adopt a certain way of living even in earthly, worldly surroundings. The Lord Sri Krishna indicates how even in the midst of the world you may still be centred in the Divine; you may still be rooted in the one Reality. All scriptures mention the same truth in different ways. The Upanishads, Srimad Bhagavad Gita, Srimad Bhagavatam—they all say the same thing. Srimad Bhagavatam cites the great example of Prahlada. The Isopanishad starts with this declaration at the very outset. The Bhagavad Gita reiterates the same truth again and again in all the chapters. The intelligent Yogi therefore tries to utilise these great revelations as the constant support for his Yogabhyasa and he raises his mind to a state of perpetual awareness of the presence of the Divine at all times, in all circumstances and surroundings, and amidst all activities.

Effective Pratyahara Stops the Creation of New Samskaras and New Vasanas When Pratyahara is practised in such a comprehensive way, then gradually the outer world starts to lose its hold upon the mind of the Yogi. Outer objects and their names and form appearances lose their power to influence and change the mind of the Yogi. The Yogi retains his spiritual consciousness and awareness in the midst of the objects and in spite of the objects. That is effective Pratyahara. That is success in Pratyahara. It results now in a great game when, thus established in proper Pratyahara, the Yogi reaches a stage where new Samskaras and new Vasanas are no longer created. Otherwise, the creation of new Samskaras and new Vasanas is a perpetual process. There is no end to it. Normally, as you move in the outer world, you go on creating newer and newer Samskaras and Vasanas. It poses a serious problem to the Yogi. He has difficulty enough in trying to deal with the Vasanas and Samskaras already brought over from his previous birth. And he cannot afford to add on to it a further difficulty of having to deal with fresh Samskaras and Vasanas. The point to note is that unless you live like a Yogi, it is impossible for you to avoid creating more and more, newer and newer, Samskaras and Vasanas. The Yogi is able to put a stop to this process of the creation of additional new Samskaras and Vasanas, precisely by the practice of successful and effective Pratyahara. In his case, the perceived objects do not impinge upon the consciousness any more. They pass off like shadows. They do not take root. They do not go and lodge themselves in his Chitta. Pratyahara thus wards off the creation of new Vasanas and Samskaras, and through the help of Viveka, Vichara and Vairagya, turns the mind away, and the mind becomes gradually transformed into a Yogic mind, an indrawn mind, an Antarmukha Manas. The inveterate tendency of the previous mind to habitually always be running about hither and thither, that innate previous tendency gives place to this newly created nature and quality of remaining inward, of moving towards its own inner centre. That is a great achievement. That is a vast stride, much ground cover and it is this indrawn mind that is the hallmark of the Yogi. It is a specific quality of the Yogic mind to be at repose within and the ground is now prepared for taking advantage of this state of the mind and making use of this indrawn mind to concentrate and focus on the great Lakshya, the Dhyana Lakshya, the object of meditation, the object of Yoga. What is Yoga ultimately? Yoga is nothing but meditation and it is the indrawn mind that becomes the fit instrument for such meditation. One who has succeeded in practising Pratyahara becomes a person with Samahita Chitta, a person with his mind brought under control, a person with a subdued mind. And this subdued mind is a prerequisite for meditation. Where there is Asamahita Chitta, there cannot be any real Dhyana. This is what all the scriptures say.

Gopi Krishna – Kundalini - The secret of yoga

Pratyahara is defined by Patanjali (11. 54) as the withdrawal of senses from their objects in conformity with the restrictions imposed by the mind. In his commentary on this Sutra, Vyasa explains pratyahara in this way: “When there is no conjunction with their own objects, the organs in imitation of the mind-stuff, as it is in itself, become, as it were, restricted. When the mind-stuff is restricted, like the mind-stuff they become restricted; and do not, like the subjugation of the senses, require any further aid. Just as when the Queen-bee flies up, the bees fly up after her, and when she settles down, they settle down after her. So when the mind-stuff is restricted, the organs are restricted. Thus there is the withdrawal of the senses.” Yoga-Sara-Sangraha, the authority of Narada Purana, defines pratyahara as the withdrawal of senses from all the objects in which they are engrossed. “The Yoga practitioner,” it says, “who applies himself to meditation (dhyana) without first subduing his senses can only be considered as unintelligent, as the meditation of such a person can never bear fruit.” Gheranda Samhita (iv. 3. 4. 5) defines hara as the withdrawal of mind from honour and opprobrium from what is good to hear and what is not good to hear, what is odorous and malodorous, from sweet, sour and bitter, from any form of sound, smell or taste by which the mind is drawn to bring it back under the control of the Self (Atman). The Bhagavad-Gita (ii. 57. 58) describes the state of one observing pratyahara in these words: “Stable is the mind of him who, unattached to everything, meets good and evil without rejoicing at the one and feeling revulsion at the other. . . . When a man like a tortoise, which draws in its limbs from all directions, withdraws his senses from the objects of desire then he attains to a stable state of mind.”

Krishnananda The Yoga system PRATYAHARA OR ABSTRACTION We are still in the outer court of Yoga. Asana and Pranayama form the exterior of Yoga proper. The internal limbs are further onwards, which form its inner court. Pratyahara or the withdrawal of the sense-powers is where this inner circle begins. As Asana is a help in Pranayama, so is Pranayama a help in Pratyahara. Asana is steady physical posture; Pranayama is the harmony or regularization of the energy within by proper manipulation of the breath. Pratyahara is the withdrawal of the powers of the senses from their respective objects. Pratyahara means ‘abstraction’ or ‘bringing back’. As the rider on a horse would control its movements by operating the reins which he holds in his hands, the Yogi controls the senses by the practice of Pratyahara. To gain an understanding of the reason behind Pratyahara, we have to go back to our first lesson in Yoga. Why should we restrain the senses at all, would be the question. Yoga is the technique of the realization of the universal. The individual is to be attuned to the cosmic, and this is the aim of Yoga in essence. The senses act as obstructions in this effort. While the individual tries to unite itself with the universal, the senses try to separate it therefrom by diversification of interest. The main activity of the senses is to provide a proof that there is a world outside, while the Yoga analysis affirms that there is really nothing outside the universal. When we try to think as the universal would think the senses prevent us from thinking that way and make us feel and act in terms of manifoldness and variety. This is where most people find a difficulty in meditation. The senses do not keep quiet when there is an attempt at meditation. They rather distract the powers in the system within and retard focussing of consciousness. The senses release the energy along different channels of activity, the main courses being the functions of seeing, hearing, smelling, touching and tasting. As long as we see the particular, we cannot believe in the universal. No one would believe in the existence of universality, because no one has seen it. The senses seem to be bent on creating a difference between the seer and the seen. The fact, however, is that there is no difference between the individual and the universal. The apparent difference has been created by the senses. One is hypnotized by them into an erroneous recognition. While one is omnipotent, they hypnotize one into the feeling of being impotent and one is made to undergo the pains of individuality. A millionaire can undergo the pains of penury in a dream. After a sumptuous meal, one may feel hungry in the dream-world. We have experience in dream of an expansive space, while we are confined within the four walls of a room. While we are in our own locality, we dream that we have flown to a distant land. A circumstance psychologically created becomes the cause of the difference in experience. Place, time and circumstances can be changed when the mind enters a different realm of consciousness. The senses in the dreaming state produce the illusion of an external world which is not there ‘outside’. This means that we can see things even if they are not. It is not necessary that there should be a real world outside for us to see it. Dream makes the one individual appear as many. So two truths come to relief here: the one can become the many; and we can see a world which is not there. This is exactly what is happening to us even in the waking state-the same law, the same rule of perception, the same experiential structure. That we see a world does not mean that it should really exist, though it has the reality of ‘being perceived’. Only when we wake up from dream we learn what happened to us in dream, and not when we are in dream. Just as the senses of the dream-condition entangle us in an experience of the dream-world, the senses of the waking state do the same thing to us. When the dream-senses are withdrawn, we awake from dream; when the waking senses are withdrawn, we enter the universal reality. This is the reason why Pratyahara is to be achieved in Yoga, which is the way to the realization of universality. If we do not restrain the senses, we would be in the dream of the world. When we bring the senses back to their source, the bubble of individuality bursts into the ocean of the Absolute. We do not partake of the nature of the world even as we are not anything that we see in dream. Pratyahara is essential to wake up man from the long dream of world-perception. These are subtle truths to be meditated upon, which are purifying even to listen. Even if one hears these truths, one’s sins will be destroyed. This is the necessity for the practice of sense- control. As long as the senses cling to their objects, we are in a world. Yoga rises above mere world-perception to universal consciousness. There are many methods of Pratyahara. The texts hold these means as great secrets. No one should seek to do meditation without purity of heart. One is not to enter the path unless the preconditions are fulfilled. One should not merely force the mind into meditation without purified feelings. Desires frustrated are great dangers. To approach Yoga with lurking desires would be like touching a bursting dynamite. Let the heart be free, for it is the heart that has to meditate and not merely the brain. Thought can achieve nothing when the heart is elsewhere and the feelings are directed to a different goal. Pratyahara may be said to constitute the frontiers of Yoga. When one practices Pratyahara one is almost on the borderland of the Infinite, and here one has superphysical sensations. Here it is that the need for a Guru is mostly felt. Here again does one experience tremor of body, flitting of mind, sleepiness and overactivity of the senses. When we attempt Pratyahara, the senses become more acute. More hunger, more passion, more susceptibility to irritation, oversensitiveness, are some of the early consequences of this practice in Yoga. To illustrate this condition we may give an example: if we touch our body with a, stick or even an iron rod, we do not feel it. But our eyes cannot bear the touch of even a silken fibre, because of the subtlety of the structure of the eyeballs. So subtle does the mind become that it remains susceptible to the slightest provocation, impact or exposure. In the stage of Pratyahara we remain in a condition where we directly come into grips with the senses, as the police would come into a face-to-face confrontation with dacoits who were hiding themselves in ambush before and now fight with the police not even minding death. In a fight to death the strength of the fighting powers increases and gets redoubled at a pitch. If a snake, about to die in a struggle, bites a person, there is said to be no remedy, because its venom then becomes intensified in rage. The flame shoots up before passing out. Even so the senses, when they are grappled in Pratyahara, become overactive, sensitive and tremendously powerful. Here the unwary student may have a fall. What is one to do when the senses become thus active and fierce? One cannot bear the sight of sense-objects in this condition and here it is that one should not be in the vicinity of these objects. While one lives a normal social life, nothing might appear specially tempting. But now, at the Pratyahara stage, one becomes so sensitive that the senses may yield any moment. It is like walking on a razor’s edge, sharp and cutting, fine and difficult to perceive. A little carelessness here might mean dangerous consequences. Subtle is the path of Yoga, invisible to the eyes and hard to tread. The Yamas and Niyamas practiced earlier will be a help in this state. The great discipline one has undergone in the Yamas and Niyamas will guard one against the onslaught of the senses. Because of the student’s honesty, God will help him out of the situation. This is the Mahabharata-war of practice, where one has to fight the sense-powers inclining to objects and enjoyments. Pratyahara should also go side by side with Vichara or a careful investigation of every psychological condition in the process. The senses easily mistake one thing for another. Samsara or world-existence is nothing but a medley of misjudgment of values. The senses cannot see Truth. Not only this; they see untruth. They mistake, says Patanjali, the non-eternal for the eternal, the impure for the pure, pain for pleasure and the non-Self for the Self. This is the fourfold blunder committed by the mind and the senses. There is nothing permanent in this world. Everything is passing, a truth that we all know very well. Everyone knows that the next moment is uncertain and yet we can see how much faith people repose in the future and what preparations they make even for fifty years ahead. There can be nothing stable in the world because of the impermanence of the whole cosmos caught up in the process of evolution. Yet man takes things as permanent entities. The senses cannot exactly see what is happening in front of them. They are like blindfolded persons who do not know what is kept before them. It was the Buddha who made it his central doctrine of proclamation that everything is transient, and yet, to the senses, everything seems to be permanent, which means that they cannot see reality. There is not the same water in a flowing river at any given spot. There is no continuous existence of a burning flame of fire. It is all motion of parts, jump of particles. Every cell of the body changes. Every atom of matter vibrates. Everything tends to something else. There is change alone everywhere. But to the senses there is no change anywhere and all things are solid. Wedded to this theory of the senses, man is not prepared to accept even his own impending death. So much is the credit for the wisdom of the senses. The senses also take the impure for the pure. We think that this body of ours is beautiful and dear and other bodies connected with it are also dear. We hug things as beautiful formations not knowing that there is an essential impurity underlying their apparent beauty. To maintain the so-called beauty and purity of the body we engage ourselves daily in many routines like bathing, applying soap, cosmetics, etc., and when these are not done, we would see what the body is, really. The true nature of the body gets revealed if one does not attend to it for some days. This is the case with everything else, also, in the world. All things manifest their natures when no attention is paid to them. When the body is sick and starved it shows its true form. In old age, its real nature is visible. Such is the beauty of the body-borrowed, artificial, deceptive. Why do we not see the same beauty in the body affected with a deadly disease, or when it is dead? Where does our affection for the loved body go then? There is a confusion in the mind which sees things where they are not, and constructs values out of its imagination. There is an underlying ugliness which puts on the contour of beauty by exploiting it from some other source, and passes for a beautiful substance, just as a mirror shines by borrowing lustre from a light-it is light that shines and not the mirror, though we usually say that the mirror shines. We mistake one thing for another thing. The beauty does not belong to the body. It really belongs to something else which the senses and mind cannot visualize or understand. The Yoga scriptures thus describe how this body is impure. From where has the body come? Go to its origin and you will realize how pure that place is. What happens to it when it is unattended to, when it is seriously ill, and when it is robbed of its Pranas? Where is the beauty in the body from which the Pranas have departed? Why do we not see beauty in a corpse? What was it that attracted us in the living body? The reports of the senses cannot be trusted. We also mistake pain for pleasure. When we are suffering, we are made to think that we are enjoying pleasures. In psychoanalytic terms, this is comparable to a condition of masochism, wherein one enjoys suffering. One is so much in sorrow that the sorrowful condition itself appears as a satisfaction. Man never has known what is true bliss, what happiness is, what joy is. He is born in sorrow, lives in sorrow and dies in sorrow. This grievous state he mistakes for a natural condition. “On account of the consequence that follows satisfaction of a desire, the anxiety attending upon the wish to perpetuate it, the impressions produced by enjoyment, and the perpetual flux of the Gunas of Prakriti, everything is painful”, say Patanjali. It is only the discriminative mind that discovers the defects inherent in the structure of the world. The consequence of enjoyment is the generation of further desire to repeat the enjoyment. Desire is a conflagration of fire which, when fed, wants more and more of fuel. The desire expands itself. ‘Never is desire extinguished by the fulfilment of it’, is a great truth reiterated in the Yoga texts. The effect of the satisfaction of a desire is not pleasure, though one is made to think so; the effect is further desire. One cannot say how long one would continue enjoying; for it has no end. Man does not want to die, because to die to this world is equivalent to losing the centres of pleasure. The mind receives a shock when it hears news of death that is near. Desire is the cause of the fear of death. The consequence of the satisfaction of a desire should therefore teach a lesson to everyone. Also, when we are possessed of the object of desire, we are not really happy at core. There is a worry to preserve it. One does not sleep well when there is plenty of satisfying things. Wealthy men are not happy. Their relatives may rob them of the wealth, dacoits may snatch it away, and the government may appropriate it. Just because we have our object of desire, it does not mean that we can be happy. One was unhappy when one did not have the object, and there is now again unhappiness because of its possession. There is another cause of dissatisfaction. Unwittingly we create psychic impressions subtly in our subconscious mind through the satisfaction of a desire. Just as when one speaks or sings before a microphone, grooves are formed on the plate of a gramophone, and the sound can be relayed any number of times; so also when one has the experience of the enjoyment of an object, impressions are formed in the subconscious level and they can be relayed any number of times even if one might have forgotten them, though many births might have been passed through and even when one does not want them any more. The impressions created by an act of enjoyment are for one’s sorrow in the future. There is a fourth reason: the rotation of the wheel of the Gunas of Prakriti. Prakriti is the name that we give to the matrix of all substance, constituted of the properties called Sattva, Rajas and Tamas. Sattva is transparency, purity and balance of force. Rajas is distraction, division and bifurcation of one thing from another. Tamas is inertia, neither light nor activity. These are the three modes of Prakriti and our experiences are nothing but our union with these modes. We are dull when Tamas operates in us, we are grieved when Rajas functions, and we are happy when Sattva preponderates. We can be happy only when Sattva is ascendant, not otherwise. And we cannot always be happy, because Sattva will not rise at all times. The wheel of Prakriti revolves and is never at rest. Sattva occasionally comes up and then goes down. When it comes up we feel happy and when it goes down we are unhappy. In a moving wheel, no spoke can be fixed or be in the same position always. Happiness in this world, thus, is impermanent; it comes and goes. All this world, constituted physically and psychologically in this manner, is a source of pain to the discriminative mind. Even the transient joy of the world is found only to be the result of a release of biological tension, a titillation of nerves and a delusion of the uninformed mind. We also mistake the not-Self for the Self, a very serious error we all commit daily. When we love anything, we transfer the Self to the not-Self and infuse the not-Self with the characters of the Self. The Self is that which knows, sees and experiences. It is the consciousness in us. That which is seen or experienced and that which we regard as an object, is the not-Self. The object is not-Self because it has no consciousness. That a being like man has consciousness is no argument against his being an object, for what is seen is the human form and not consciousness. The ‘objectivity’ in things is what makes them objects. It is not the objects that know the world; it is unbroken consciousness which knows it. It is not the world that feels a world, but the knowing subject. The consciousness becomes aware of the presence of an object by a mysterious activity that takes place psychologically. How does one become aware of a mountain, for example? It is a little difficult to understand this simple phenomenon, though it is one that occurs almost daily. The mountain which is in front does not enter the perceiver’s eyes or mind. It is far and yet the mind seems to be aware of its existence. It is not that the eyes come in contact with the object; the object does not touch the subject physically. How, then, does it know the object? One may say that the light rays that emanate from the object impinge on the retina of the eyes of the subject and the latter knows, then, the object. But neither has the object any consciousness nor do the light rays have it, and an inert activity cannot produce a conscious effect. How is, then, an object known? The secret of the relation between the subject and the object seems to be hidden beneath its outer form. It is the senses that tell us of our having had the knowledge of an object by means of light rays. The eyes alone cannot see, and the light rays alone cannot reveal the object. The light rays may be there, and the object may be there, but if the mind is elsewhere, one cannot see it. Other than the instrumental factors, something seems to be necessary in perception. The mind plays an important role here. Now, is the mind a substance, an object? Or is it intelligent? The minimum that could be expected in perception is intelligence. We may suppose that the mind is intelligent, as we may say that a mirror shines. Even as the mirror is not what really shines, the mind is not intelligence. As it is the light that shines and not the mirror, it is some transcendent consciousness which illumines even the mind. It is not easy to understand the nature of this consciousness as it is itself the understander. Who can explain that which is behind all explanation? It is the knowledge behind all understanding. Who is to understand understanding? It is the mysterious reality which is in us, by which we know everything, but which cannot be known by anyone else. This intelligence, or consciousness, acts on the mind even as light on a mirror. The mind reflects itself on the object even as a wall can be illumined by the reflection in the mirror. The object is located by the activity of the mind and the intelligence in it perceives the object. Intelligence does not directly act; it is focused through the medium of the mind. A ray of intelligence passes through the lens of the mind and confronts the object. Intelligence beholds the object through the instrumentality of the mind. How does intelligence come in contact with unconscious matter, which we know as the object? How can consciousness know an object unless there is a kinship between them? Granting that there has to be such a kinship, it cannot be said to be a material relation, as certain philosophies of materialism may hold, for matter has no understanding. It has no eyes, and no intelligence. Who, then, sees matter? Matter cannot see matter, as it is blind. Intelligence, without which everything becomes bereft of meaning, is different from matter. It is intelligence that knows even the existence of matter. How does it come in contact with matter unless the latter has a nature akin to it? Materiality cannot be the link between the two, for matter cannot be linked with consciousness. Unless consciousness is hidden in matter, consciousness cannot know matter. Matter, in the end, should be essentially conscious, if perception is to have any acceptable significance. There should be Self even in not-Self, consciousness should be universal, if perception is to be possible. But the senses cannot see the universal consciousness. They only see objectiveness, externality, localized thinghood. They falsely project a phantom of ‘outsideness’ and create an ‘object’ out of the universal reality. The object is artificially linked with the subject. When the senses visualize an object outside, which appears as a material something, there is a transference of values taking place between the subject and the object. The Self within, which is universal consciousness, affirms its kinship with the object, but, as it does this through the mind, there is love for the object. All love is the affinity which the universal feels with itself in creation. This universal love gets distorted when it is transmitted to objects through the senses. Instead of loving all things equally, we love only certain things, to the exclusion of others. This is the mistake of the mind, the error in affection when conveyed through the senses, without a knowledge of its universal background. While spiritual love is universal, sensory love is particular and breeds hatred and anger. Individual desire brings bondage in its train. The Self is mistaken for the not-Self, and vice versa, in the sense that the universal is forgotten and gets localized in certain objects and the senses commit the blunder of taking the non-eternal for the eternal, the impure for the pure and pain for pleasure. Pratyahara is greatly helped by this analysis, for the senses, by this understanding, refrain from clinging to things. The entanglement of the senses in their respective objects and their organic connection with the objects is so deep and strong that it is not easy to extricate consciousness from matter. Just as one cannot remove one’s skin from one’s body, it is difficult to wean the senses from things. The organic contact artificially created between the senses and objects should be snapped by Vichara or philosophic investigation. This is a stage in Vairagya or dispassion for what is not real. It is not necessary that in a state of Pratyahara the senses should always be active. Many a time they appear to lie down quietly and yet cause great disturbance to the student. When they are positively active, the student becomes conscious of them, but, when they resort to subterfuges, it is difficult to perceive them. The activities of the senses have stages or forms of manifestation. A mischief-maker might be maintaining silence, but thereby it does not mean that he is inactive, because he might be scheming over a course of action in which he wishes to engage himself at a proper time. At times, his activities might get thinned out due to the work of the police and when he is harassed from many sides. When he is overworked, he might get fatigued and in this condition, again, he may not do anything. Yet, it does not follow that he is free from his subtle intentions or that he is really free from activity. Sometimes, it might also happen that he suspends his activity for other reasons like the marriage of his daughter or the sickness of his son. This suspension of action does not also mean a closure of his plans. When all circumstances become conducive, he will resume his work in full vigour. This is also the way of working of the desires. They may be asleep, attenuated, interrupted or actively operative. When we sleep, the desires also sleep; they regain strength for further activity on the following day. They also get tired and then cease from work for a while. They lie dormant (Prasupta) when there is frustration due to the operation of the laws of society, the absence of means for fulfilment, or the presence of something obstructing satisfaction. In frustration, the activity is temporarily stopped. When one is in an environment which is not conducive to the expression of desire, one suppresses it by will, and here it is in a condition of induced sleep. In cosmic Pralaya or the final dissolution, when all individuals get wound up in a causal state of the universe, the senses with their desires lie latent; they remain in a seed form. The desires are not wholly blind, because they know how to create circumstances for their expansion and fulfilment. Even instinct has intelligence. Sometimes intelligence gets stifled by instinct. Intelligence often justifies instinct and accentuates its work. Though this may be one of the conditions of desire in ordinary persons, it gets thinned out and becomes thread-like in the case of students of Yoga. Sadhana attenuates desire, makes it feeble, though it is not easily destroyed. The desire loses some strength in the presence of the spiritual Guru, inside a temple or place of worship, because it is not the atmosphere for its exhibition. This is another condition of desire, where it remains feeble or thin (Tanu). There is a third state of desire, where it may be occasionally interrupted (Vichhinna) in its activities. One may have love for one’s son, but for a mistake committed or an unpleasant behaviour of his, one may get angry with him. Here the love for the son has not vanished but is temporarily suspended in a state brought about by passing circumstances. This frequently happens between husbands and wives. Love is suppressed by hate and hate by love due to situations that may arise now and then in society. For the time being, the object of affection may look like one of hatred. We see, among monkeys, the mother-monkey will not allow her baby to eat and she may even snatch away from its mouth the piece of bread it has. This does not mean that the monkey hates the baby and we can also observe the extent of attachment the mothermonkey has for her baby. Love and hate are mysterious psychological conditions and we cannot know where we stand at a given time until we are strongly opposed by contrary forces. Sometimes one feels depressed and at other times one is in a mood of joy. There is often dejection and melancholy. Small unhappy events easily put out people, though all the while they might have been happy. Suddenly, also, they may be elated due to some joyful news conveyed to them. These are waves which arise in the lake of the mind due to the movement of the wind of desire in different directions. The mind dances to the tune of the senses. There have been instances where seekers, for a long time, appeared to be sense-controlled persons and then began to indulge in unwanted activity. Sometimes, when no progress is tangible, one may think that one’s efforts have all gone waste; but then suddenly one may realize also a great joy. This happened in the case of the Buddha. He lost hopes even on the day previous to that of his illumination. He had decided that his end had come. But the bubble burst the next day, and light dawned. Seekers may go down or go up on the path winding like a hillroad, with many descents and ascents. The student of Yoga should be vigilant and should not make decisions or pass judgments by looking at the moods of the mind day by day. Things may appear all-right for a time; but there may also be a cyclone of emotions subsequently, shattering one’s hopes and expectations. This is the guerilla warfare that the desireful senses wage when one tries to control them or restrict their activity. When we constantly watch the senses, they show resentment and react and want to jump upon us. None tolerates restriction on one’s freedom. Whatever be the condition of desire,-sleep, attenuation or interruption-it is still there, and has not gone. It can gain strength at a convenient time. We may go on pouring water over fire with a view to extinguish it, but if a spark is left, though the large fire is put out, it may create a huge conflagration again. This happens often in forests, with a small log of wood smouldering in a corner. The spark that is left manifests itself in an opportune moment. Though the desire may be thin, it is not destroyed, and becomes powerful when suitable circumstances present themselves. Desire, when it is placed wholly in favourable circumstances, becomes fully active (Udara) and then one cannot do anything with it, as with the wild forest fire. The raging flames cannot be put out with a bucketful of water. The student’s little discrimination will get extinguished due to the might of desire. The whole world is fire, said the Buddha. Experience is the fire of desire; the eyes are this fire burning, the ears and the other senses are burning with desire. The mind and the faculties have been caught up in this fire. The world is a burning pit of live coal, according to the Buddha. The four conditions mentioned are only a broad division of the working of desire. But it has many other forms in which it may lie concealed or act. The mind creates certain mechanisms within itself for its defence against attack from Yoga. It runs away from the spot where it can be observed and the student might miss his aim. And it can follow any of the four techniques mentioned already. It can divert its activity along another channel altogether. This is one of the defence-mechanisms of the mind. If the student in a higher state of mind observes that the lower mind is attached to an object, there will naturally be vigilance kept over it. But it employs a shrewd device of giving up that object and deftly clinging to something else, thus creating an appearance that the attachment has gone. Loves are shifted from one centre to another. The student might find himself in a fool’s paradise, if proper caution is not exercised here. He might think that the affection has been snapped, while it is as hard as before, only fixed in another centre. The river has taken a different course and is inundating another village. When a tiger is being pursued, one does not know on whom it will pounce. The mind also can resort to another method, different from this common technique. If one is persistent in spotting out the desire wherever it goes, it might stop going to any outer object, but be internally contemplating on the desired end. There can be enjoyment of an object within, if all other avenues are obstructed. One can imagine the objects and acquire a psychological satisfaction when all other channels are blocked. If the best is not available, the mind gets satisfaction in the next best, and if nothing is given, it will enjoy its object in thinking. If the vigilance goes to the extent of observing even this, the mind will try to manipulate itself by projecting its negative characters on certain persons or objects. If a small monkey is pursued by a bigger one, the former will make a chirping noise and draw the attention and support of the other monkeys to someone nearby, and then the whole group will jointly offer an attack on the third party, so that the original skirmish is forgotten by displacement of attention. There are people who try to become virtuous by pointing out the defects of others. Small persons become great by casting aspersions on noble souls. Wonderful is the trickery of the mind. The desireful condition will find an evil spot in someone or something, to the dissatisfaction and disgust of the vigilant mind, and thus side-track the activity of the latter. One might here become more conscious of the defects of the outer environment than of what is happening inside. In the meantime the lower mind works its way. Dreams, phantasies, building of castles in the air, seeing defects outside, are some of the defence-mechanisms which elude the grasp of the vigilant intelligence. Whatever be one’s efforts at subduing the mind, the same will never be too much before the impetuosity of the senses. The Bhagavadgita gives a warning when it says that the force of the senses may sweep over like a whirlwind and carry away one’s understanding. The Manusmriti says that the senses have such power that they can drag away even a wise man’s mind from the right course. The Devimahatmya says that Maya can pull by force even the minds of those with much knowledge. In Pratyahara, reactions are often set up and the student may get frightened about what is happening. Patanjali, in his Sutra, details out the difficulties. Apart from the positive hazards mentioned above, there are certain other negative types of problems that come on the way. Illness (Vyadhi) may come upon one due to indiscriminate eating, pressure exerted on the Pranas in one’s practice, undue exposure, over-exertion, etc. Sickness is a great obstacle in Yoga. Sickness may be physical or psychological, engendered by one’s disobedience to Nature or by reactions to one’s practice. It can so happen that the student gets fed up with everything after years of practice and concludes that all things are useless. He gets into a mood of despondency (Styana). He may start thinking that he is alone and there is no one to help him. This thought may become so intense that he may not be able to think of the ideal before him. Outwardly, there may be weakness, recurring head-ache and sleeplessness. He may not get sleep for days together. There may develop pain in the body and absence of appetite for food. The stomach may lose the strength to digest anything. These are temporary reactions from the Prana and the mind under the process of control. These are passing phases of which one need not be alarmed. Due to concentration of mind on a particular line (not spiritual concentration but concentrated attention on a particular effort) one may have occasional irksome feelings. These are outer symptoms which may annoy the student for a considerable time. Pratyahara is, in a way, a tussle between the inner and the outer nature. This should explain the reason behind reactions. The inner war is as complicated as the outer and there are as many manoeuvres employed inside as in wars outside. The inner battles are more difficult to win than the outer ones, because in the outer several persons and tools can be employed, while in the inner no such things are available. The inner war is perpetual, without rest. A truce seems to be declared only in sleep, swoon and death. There may come about a languishing state of the body wherein one cannot sit even in an Asana. The student feels tired even of meditation. Dullness that sets in may make all things slow and one starts taking things easy without the enthusiasm and vigour with which the practice commenced. This happens after a few years of effort. Styana is a condition of sluggishness of the body and mind. Also a kind of doubt (Samsaya) may start harassing the mind because of there being no palpable progress in Sadhana. One does not know how far the destination lies. The student trudges on but does not know the distance covered. There is no guide-map to indicate the distance yet remaining. The inability to know where one is standing creates uncertainty in the mind. Doubts may also creep in by study of too many books of a variegated nature written by different authors, each one saying something different from the other. It is with difficulty that one becomes a good judge of the multitude of ideas served through conflicting literature. Absence of a proper understanding of one’s true position is a cause of doubt, on account of which one changes the place of residence, changes one’s Guru, changes one’s Mantra, changes the mode of meditation, etc. These changes are done with the hope that some sizable result will follow from them. But in the changed condition one finds oneself where one was and feels a necessity to make a further change. It is not easy to realize where the real mistake lies. Such a dubitable character is an obstacle in Yoga. The reactions that the mind and senses produce take many forms and the instability of the mind whereby one does not stick to any one thing or place is an instance. Stickability to one thing is also a great concentration of attention and hence the difficulty in its practice. The mind gets bored with seeing the same people, same place and the same things. There is desire for variety due to disgust for monotony. This is the outcome of doubting, due to which the student gets lost in the wilderness of life. The state of mind wherein it is unsettled and is confused by heedlessness (Pramada) is another obstacle. Doubts arise on account of carelessness in thinking. The student has allowed the enemy an entry while in sleep and he wakes up when the enemy has already taken possession of him. Because of want of vigilance, the calamity has befallen him. Once we are convinced of the validity of the practice and the competency of the Guru, what need be there for a change? How did this happen? It occurred because one had no conviction even before. A faith that can be shaken up cannot be called a conviction; it is only a temporary acceptance without proper judgment. No success in any walk of life is possible without a correct assessment of values. It would be foolish to go headlong without considering a situation from all sides, with its pros and cons. It is not good to jump into a mood of emotion in Yoga, for Yoga is not a mood of the mind. Yoga is steadfast practice in which one’s whole being dedicated. The student should be firm in his views and substantial in the core of his personality. He should not reduce himself to a silly person who can be changed by the empty logic of people. The student’s understanding has to be powerful enough to withstand and overcome the argumentation of the senses. Once he listens to the plea of the senses, he will believe in the reality of outer circumstances rather than the inner significance of Yoga. Pramada, or carelessness, is verily death, says Sanatkumara, the sage, to Dhritarashtra. Heedlessness is death; vigilance is life. This is more true in the case of spiritual seekers. A kind of lethargy (Alasya) in the whole system, bodily and mental, sets in as another obstacle. One will not be doing any meditation but only drooping heavy with idleness. This is the Mohana-Astra or the delusive weapon cast against the seeking mind in its war with desire. Lethargy paralyses the action of the mind to such an extent that the mind cannot even think in this state. The thinking power goes away, Tamas creeps in, and one becomes torpid in nature. The Yogavasistha says: ‘If it were not for idleness, the great catastrophe, who would not be successful in the earning of wealth or learning?’ Lethargy puts a stop to onward progress. Again, this lethargic condition is not to be mistaken for a mere inactivity of the body and mind. It is rather a preparation for a contrary activity that is to take place after a time, and it is comparable to the cloudy sky, looking dull and silent, before the outbreak of thunder and lightning. Just as lack of appetite is only an indicator that the body is going to fall sick, lethargy is an indication that something adverse is going to happen. Keeping quiet, saying nothing, doing nothing, is dangerous to the student of Yoga. One does not know when the bomb will burst. Torpidity is a breeding ground for the mischief of the senses and their coterie. They first paralyze the person by lethargy and then give him a blow by sensual excitement (Avirati). It is easier to kill a person when he is unconscious. The student is put to sleep by Tamas, and then there is a violent activity of the senses. The cyclonic wind has risen from the dusty weather. The mind jumps into indulgence of various sorts and this is what they call a ‘fall’ in Yoga. Having fallen into this condition, to mistake it for an achievement in Yoga is, indeed, worse. Such mistaking of delusion for success is the other obstacle, the illusion (Bhrantidarsana) by which one thinks one is progressing higher while falling down. The senses whip one to dance to their tunes and one also gets induced to a hypnosis by the senses. Even if, by chance, one recovers consciousness from this unwanted condition into which one has been led, it is not easy to regain the ground that has been once lost. Losing the ground (Alabdhabhumikatva) is a further obstacle in Yoga. One cannot start one’s practice again with ease, due to the Samskaras created by the ravaging work of the senses during the state of gratification. The lack of ability to find out the point of concentration (Anavasthitatva), even if the ground is to be gained with difficulty, is a serious obstacle, again. The nine conditions mentioned above are some of the major obstacles in Yoga, in addition to the psychological complexities to which reference has been made already. They cause the tossing of the mind and its drifting from the path. Here the student has to be cautious. But there are certain other minor obstacles, of which at least five may be named as the chief ones. One of them is pain (Duhkha) which takes possession of the seeker. There is a sense of internal grief annoying him constantly. ‘Where am I, and what am I doing’, is his silent sorrow. It is all darkness and there is no light visible in the horizon. This brings in an emotional depression (Daurmanasya) and one becomes melancholy. One sees no good in anything and no meaning or value in life. Life loses its purpose and it is all a wild-goose chase. This becomes the conclusion after so much of effort in the practice of Yoga. This is the point at which the seeker reaches at times, a condition well described in the first chapter of the Bhagavadgita. ‘It is all hopeless’ seems to be the cry of Arjuna. This is also the cry of every Arjuna in the world, of every man, every woman and everyone who rotates through the wheel of life. While one attempts at regaining strength by picking up one’s courage, there sets in nervousness (Angamejayatva). The body trembles and one cannot sit for meditation. The student is nervous about someone saying something about him, and so on. There is also an incapacity to tolerate anything that happens in the world. One develops sensitiveness to such an extent that even a small event looks mountainous in importance. There is tremor and uneven flow of the Prana. Irregular and unrhythmic inhalation and exhalation (Svasa-prasvasa) disturbs the nervous system and, indirectly, the mind.

Ramana Maharishi (5) Pratyahara:- This is regulating the mind by preventing it from flowing towards the external names and forms. The mind, which had been till then distracted, now becomes controlled. The aids in this respect are (1) meditation on the pranava, (2) fixing the attention betwixt the eyebrows, (3) looking at the tip of the nose, and (4) reflection on the nada. The mind that has thus become one-pointed will be fit to stay in one place. After this, dharana should be practised.

D: What is the purport of the teaching that in pratyahara one should meditate on the pranava? M: The purport of prescribing meditation on the pranava is this. The pranava is Omkara consisting of three and a half matras, viz., a, u, m, and ardha-matra. of these, a stands for the waking state, Visva-jiva, and the gross body; u stands for the dream-state Taijasa-jiva, and the subtle body; m stands for the sleep-state, Prajnajiva and the causal body; the ardha-matra represents the Turiya which is the self or ‘I’-nature; and what is beyond that is the state of Turiyatita, or pure Bliss. The fourth state which is the state of ‘I’-nature was referred to in the section on meditation (dhyana): this has been variously described - as of the nature of amatra which includes the three matras, a, u, and m; as maunakshara (silence syllable); as ajapa (as muttering without muttering) and as the Advaita7. If meditation in the form ‘I am Shiva’ (Shivoham bhavana), which prevents the thought going outwards, is practised always, samadhi will come about.- Vallalar. 8. In the city that has nine false gates, He resides in the form of bliss. Bhagavad gita. mantra which is the essence of all mantras such as panchakshara. In order to get at this true significance, one should meditate on the pranava. This is meditation which is of the nature of devotion consisting in reflection on the truth of the Self. The fruition of this process is samadhi which yields release which is the state of unsurpassed bliss. The revered Gurus also have said that release is to be gained only by devotion which is of the nature of reflection on the truth of the Self.