na cha shaknomi avasthatum bhramati iva cha me manah
My limbs fail, my mouth is drying up; my body trembles,
and my hair stands on end.
My bow, my Gandiva, slips from my hand, Madhav, my skin burns;
I am unable to stand; my mind seems to whirl.
Commentary:
The battlefield is set, two sides — one Kaurav and one Pandav.
But Arjun stands in no man’s land, between two armies which are both family. And the reality of this looming war settles inside him. He is a warrior who has never flinched from violence, ready to kill as well as die in battle. But now, those he has to kill are family.
A blind king sitting far away from battle drew a line between his sons and his brother’s sons, while Arjun is standingonthe line, blurring it and calling them all his own. Here is where Gita picks its ideal listener — not one who is shackled in attachment and does not want to see beyond, but the one who has accepted the reality and is hence ready to absorb.
Arjun’s mind affects his body. Strength leaves his limbs. His mouth dries up. His skin burns. His mind spins. The great warrior, whose name is tied to skill and precision, cannot even hold his bow. “Gandivam sramsate hastat” —my Gandiv slips.
In this mental breakdown, in this complete collapse, in the middle of chaos about to unfold, Krishna begins to answer the root of Arjun’s breakdown —What now?
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Sankhya Yog (The Yog of Knowledge)
2.2–2.3:
Shri Bhagavan uvacha
Kutas tva kashmalam idam vishame samupasthitam
anarya jushtam asvargyam akirti karam Arjuna
Klaibyam ma sma gamah Partha naitat tvayi upapadyate
kshudram hridaya daurbalyam tyaktva uttishtha Parantapa
God said:
From where has this weakness come upon you in this hour of crisis?
It is unworthy of you, it does not lead to higher good. It brings you dishonour, Arjun.
Do not yield to this unmanliness, Parth; it does not befit you.
Cast off this petty weakness of heart and arise, O scorcher of foes.
Commentary:
Krishna’s voice enters as an awakening.
“Kutas tva…” —From where has this come?
The question is a mirror held up to Arjun’s confusion. This collapse, Krishna points out, is not the truth of Arjun, but a passing cloud mistaken for the sky.
He names it plainly:kashmalam— a defilement of clarity. It is not grief itself, but the distortion that has overtaken the ability to judge. In doing this, Krishna separates Arjun from his state of mind. And in this subtle shift, the trembling, the grief, the refusal to act — these are all accepted as states of mind, not the mind itself.
“Klaibyam ma sma gamah”—do not sink into this.
