Here we explore what propels the evolution and shaping of the universe.
The Veda is the earliest compilation of Hindu hymns. It is at least 4000 years old. It wonders how creation began.
Origins
In the beginning,
There was neither Being nor Non-Being
Neither sky, earth, nor what is beyond and beneath.
What existed? For whom?
Was there water?
Death, immortality?
Night, day?
Whatever there was, there must have been one
The primal one (God?)
Self-created, self-sustained, by his own heat,
Unaware of himself
Until there was desire to know himself.
That desire is the first seed of the mind, say seers
Binding Non-Being with Being.
What was above and what was below?
Seed or soil?
Who knows?
Who really knows?
Even the gods came later.
Perhaps only the primal being knows.
Perhaps not.
(Rig Samhita)
The Veda is believed to be of non-human origin, a container of timeless wisdom. Brahma sang these hymns out when he first saw Saraswati. These were transmitted to humans through seers known as Rishis. The seers who sat around Brahma heard four collections of Vedic mantras emerging from his four heads. These collections or samhitas came to be known as Rig, Sama, Yajur and Atharva. Of these Rig Samhita is believed to be the purest transmission.
In the earliest phase of Hinduism, Vedic hymns were chanted mechanically during rituals known as yagna to invoke divine power and change the workings of the world. Kings were the patrons of these grand ceremonies. Then a revolution took place. Sages such as Yagnavalkya and kings such as Janaka challenged the mechanical chanting of mantras. They focused on the ideas being communicated through the hymns. As a result, a thousand years after the Veda was compiled, the Upanishad came into being. This body of scripture is known as Vedanta, the pinnacle of Vedic wisdom. It states that creation involved the splitting of the primal being who is identified as Pursuha.
The Split
In the beginning was the self, the Purusha
Alone, afraid, wondering what made him lonely and fearful
If there was loneliness and fear
There could also be company and pleasure
Restless, he split himself. (Brihad-Aranyaka Upanishad)
The split portion of the Purusha is identified as Prakriti. The two complement each other. In common parlance, Purusha is translated to mean ‘man’ while Prakriti means ‘nature’. Thus Purusha can also mean ‘culture’ while Prakriti can also mean ‘woman’. These translations suggest that in the Hindu world man is equal to culture and woman to nature. Such an interpretation reinforces the popular belief that the Hindu world is patriarchal, with men deciding how the world should be.
There is an element of truth here. But the Veda and the Upanishad were not concerned with gender politics or social issues. While these did influence their thoughts, the primary motivation for these scriptures was metaphysics. Biological symbols were tools to explain complex ideas as to how the world came into being and why.
In the above narrative, the split is not of an androgynous being into man and woman. It is the split between the subject and the object. The subject is the conscious being—that which feels. The object is the stimulating environment—that which is felt. The subject is Purusha. The object is Prakriti. Purusha is the soul; Prakriti is mind and matter. Purusha is the inner reality, without gender, name or form. Prakriti is the outer reality of gender, names and forms. Purusha is still and unchanging, unaffected by time or space; it is that which makes the body alive. Prakriti is restless and ever-changing, a product of history and geography; it is the encasement of the soul. Purusha is perfect, hence not of this world, to be defined by negation, neti-neti, not this, not that. Prakriti is everything in this world, hence never perfect, to be defined by affirmation, iti-iti, this too, that too.
That Purusha and Prakriti exist after the androgynous being splits itself informs us that neither does Purusha create Prakriti nor does Prakriti create Purusha. They come into existence simultaneously. Neither is autonomous. Neither can exist independent of the other. Purusha needs Prakriti and Prakriti needs Purusha.
To explain the rather complex metaphysical concept of Pursuha and Prakriti and their complementary relationship, Rishis looked for symbols in nature, in animals, plants and minerals. Examples can never possess all the qualities of the idea, but they help take the attention of the mind in the direction of the thought.
Rishis realized that just as Purusha could not be explained without comparing and contrasting it with Prakriti, the northern direction could not be explained without referring to the southern direction, the right side could not be explained without the left side and man could not be explained without woman. Following this realization, the north, the right side and all things masculine came to represent Purusha while the south, the left side and all things feminine came to represent Prakriti.
Left was chosen for Prakriti because it was associated with the beating heart while the silent right was reserved for Purusha. North with its still Pole Star was most appropriate to represent the soul. South, its opposite, represented matter. Apparently unchanging elements of nature such as the banyan tree, the turtle and mountains became symbols of the soul, while rapidly changing elements of nature such as the banana plant, the slithering, moulting serpent and the flowing river became symbols of matter.
The choice of male biology for the conscious being and female biology for the impersonal environment has its roots in Tantra. Unlike the Vedanta, which was the creation of erudite priest–philosophers, the Tantra was the creation of the common man. Both had roots in the Veda, but while one concerned itself with transcendental issues, such as the soul, the other focused on matters more earthy and immediate, such as biology, astrology, alchemy, architecture and fertility. Both had a profound influence on each other. Using biological observations to explain abstract metaphysical notions is a case in point.
In the Tantrik understanding of human physiology, all living organisms possess seed that helps them procreate. Plants, animals and women shed their seed involuntarily during pollination, heat and menstruation. The human male, however, has the freedom to shed his white seed, the sperm, at will or not at all. This made the human male the perfect symbol of a being capable of choice. The human female became the symbol of impersonal nature fettered to the tide of time. Likewise white, the colour of semen, became the colour of the soul within while red, the colour of menstrual fluid, became the colour of matter without.
Despite being found in almost every part of India and in every period in history, no scripture identifies this image. Art historians call her Lajjagauri, the shy goddess, more out of convenience because while a covered face suggests modesty, the exposed genitalia certainly does not. The female body suggests the image represents nature. The absence of her face suggests impersonality. Her stance is that of a woman ready to offer herself to her beloved, an act that will give pleasure to the beloved and make her a mother. This image therefore could represent Prakriti: nature—impersonal, pleasure-giving and fertile.
A thousand years after the Upanishad, another revolution took place. People became increasingly theistic. Like the mechanical rites of earlier times, the speculations of the Upanishad did not satisfy the emotional needs of society. There was need for a divinity that was not merely an abstract force invoked during yagna or an abstract idea to be analysed by metaphysicians. There was need for a concrete divinity that could be embodied and personified so that it responded to the human condition in human terms. To answer these needs, epics such as the Ramayana and the Mahabharata and chronicles known as the Puranas came into being. These told the stories of gods and demons, Gods and Goddesses. In them, Purusha was personified as Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva while Prakriti was personified as Saraswati, Lakshmi and Shakti. Stories of Gods and Goddesses were in effect narrative expressions of the interactions between spiritual demands and material needs, between the conscious being and the enveloping environment, between the divine within and the divine without, between Purusha and Prakriti.
In the epics and the Puranas, Brahma is God who creates the world. There are many versions of how this happens, suggesting no one is sure how things began because ‘even the gods came later’. What follows is the predominant version.
Birth of Brahma
In the beginning, on the ocean of milk, within the coils of the serpent of time, Narayana stirred out of his dreamless slumber. From his navel rose a lotus in which sat Brahma. Brahma opened his eyes and realized he was alone. Brahma trembled. He wondered who he was. From that desire to know himself, Brahma decided to understand what he was not. First he created four boys, the Sanat-Kumars, out of his thoughts and asked them to produce children. They did not know how. They did not understand why. They disappeared. Then came ten grown men, again out of Brahma’s thoughts. These men were the Prajapatis. They knew how to produce children; they asked their father to give them a wife. Brahma split himself into two. From his left half came a creature unlike Brahma or his sons. It was a woman. She was extraordinarily beautiful. Brahma and the Prajapatis were stirred by her beauty. The woman walked around Brahma to pay her respects, for Brahma was her father. Brahma, overwhelmed by desire, sprouted three extra heads, two on the sides and one behind, so that he could look upon her at all times. Discomfited by her father’s stare, the daughter rose to the sky. Brahma popped a fifth head atop the other four. This one looked away from Narayana towards the daughter. The daughter ran. Brahma ran after her. As she ran, the daughter took a number of forms, all female: goose, mare, cow, doe. Afraid of losing her, determined to possess her, Brahma kept taking the complementary male forms: gander, horse, bull, buck. Thus different types of jivas came into being. (Brahmanda Purana)
Narayana’s slumber represents a state when the consciousness is totally unresponsive to the world around. So deep is the slumber that Narayana is not even aware of himself. This is pralaya, dissolution, the period before the split between Purusha and Prakriti. There is neither observer nor observation. Things have no form or name. Space collapses. Life entropies into a formless, nameless mass—the ocean of milk. Time is no longer sequential. The past, present and future telescope into each other. The serpent of time coils rather than slithers.
Narayana is the name of Vishnu as he sleeps a dreamless slumber. When he wakes up, a lotus emerges from his navel in which resides Brahma. This makes him creator of the creator. However, the lotus is connected to Vishnu’s navel just like a mother’s placenta, suggesting that the interactions of Brahma with the world, that is the Goddess, nourishes him. There is thus a symbiotic relationship between creator and creation, God and Goddess. Hence the line from the Rig Samhita, ‘He created her and she created him. They are born of each other.’
Narayana is the purest conceivable form of Purusha. He is consciousness that is uncrumpled, uncreased, unknotted, unpolluted. The waking up of Narayana, the blooming of the lotus, the birth of Brahma and his sons are various stages in the crumpling of this consciousness. Curiosity about the self is the impulse of this crumpling process. The crumpling gives rise to Brahma, the intellect, that is able to distinguish the self from all that the self is not—mind and matter. Brahma’s desire for children is the desire of consciousness to have a fruitful interaction with the world, the ultimate goal being knowledge of the self.
The first four sons of Brahma are called the ancient ones, Sanat-Kumars, because they come into being before the creation of the sense organs. Without the sense organs, the mind does not know the material world. The mind unruffled by sensory stimuli is pure, hence the mind-born sons of Brahma are described as innocent, pre-pubescent boys. Such a mind has no desire to act. It is incapable of producing children or answering Brahma’s questions.
Brahma realizes that for a fruitful interaction with the world, he needs channels that receive stimuli and transmit actions. This results in the birth of the ten sons, the Prajapatis, five representing the five sense organs (eyes, ears, nose, tongue, skin) and the other five representing the five action organs (hands, feet, mouth, anus, genitals). Following the birth of the Prajapatis, Brahma becomes aware of the world around him, that is the Goddess. This awareness takes the form of a sexual stirring. Unlike the first four sons of Brahma, the Prajapatis are mature, capable of responding to erotic stimuli.
The Goddess exists even during pralaya. But no one observes her as all senses are dormant. This unobserved Goddess is known as Yoga-nidra, she who exists during God’s dreamless slumber. When Narayana wakes up, the lotus blooms and Brahma opens his eyes. The senses come alive. Yoga-nidra becomes Yoga-maya, stimulating the senses.
Yoga-maya is called Brahma’s daughter because she owes her origin to him. If Brahma had no questions, if Brahma felt complete, if Brahma had been self-contained, he would never have ‘looked’ for answers: the observer would have had no observation, and the world would never have been ‘created’. Another name for Yoga-maya is Usha, meaning ‘dawn’ because her arrival is like the dawn, the hour of awakening. She is also called Shatarupa, meaning she of infinite forms. Like the world she represents, the Goddess is mercurial, constantly transforming. She goes around and envelopes Brahma as soon as she appears.
Sensations and actions fill the mind with memories, desires and ideas. These are the three extra heads of Brahma. A point comes when the consciousness is so crumpled by external inputs that a fifth head appears, atop the previous four, looking away from Narayana. This is the ego—that part of the mind that constantly seeks validation and approval from the world around. The narrative emphasizes that the ego has no independent existence; it is a reaction to worldly stimuli. The ego takes Brahma away from knowing his true self: Narayana.
Spurred by the ego, Brahma seeks to possess the Goddess, control her. She takes many forms, as is her nature, and slips away like water from a clenched palm. To keep up with her, Brahma changes his forms. When she becomes a goose, he becomes a gander. When she becomes a cow, he becomes a bull. In effect, Brahma loses his own identity and acquires an identity that depends on the outside world. As the chase proceeds, Brahma forgets the reason he created the world in the first place. The objective of self-realization gives way to the quest for self-preservation, self-propagation and self-actualization.
The word chitta is used for the moulding consciousness; it connects the mind to the soul, manas to atma, Prakriti to Purusha. Narayana is param-atma, the uncrumpled consciousness of God. Interactions with the world, the Goddess, crumple chitta and introduce memories, desires, ideas and ultimately the ego. This crumpling process is represented by the sprouting of Brahma’s heads. The five-headed Brahma is jiva-atma, the crumpled consciousness of the unenlightened, ignorant, ego-dominated jiva. The four-headed Brahma who sings the Veda is the crumpled consciousness of the enlightened, wise, soul-dominated jiva.
A jiva can be defined as any living creature who fears death, hence is constantly involved in acts of self-preservation and self-propagation. A jiva contains a jiva-atma, is sensitive to the environment and constantly engages with it in its quest to survive and find meaning in life. While the original uncrumpled state, param-atma, is the same for all jivas, the differences in crumpling are responsible for the different personalities of different jivas. Crumpling can increase or decrease, depending on how the jiva responds to stimuli. In principle, every jiva can potentially uncrumple its chitta so that the jiva-atma becomes param-atma. This ability creates a craving for the original uncrumpled state. It makes the jiva restless for that perfection, that primal peace, the dreamless slumber.
Brahma is the grandfather of all jivas. His sons marry the many forms of Shatarupa. Together they give birth to different types of jivas. Through the seed of Brahma’s sons flows jiva-atma into the jiva. From the wombs of their wives come the different types of flesh. In the following narrative, serpents and eagles have a common father, Kashyapa. Hence all possess a crumpled chitta. Because they have different mothers, serpents slither on the ground while eagles fly in the air. The difference is superficial, that of the flesh. This difference allows each one to interact differently with nature.
Grandchildren of Brahma
From Brahma’s thoughts came seven seers, the Sapta Rishis. One of the seven seers had a son called Kashyapa. Kashyapa had many wives. On Aditi, Kashaypa fathered the Devas, on Diti he fathered the Asuras, on Vinata he fathered Garuda, the eagle, and on Kadru he fathered the Nagas, serpents. Kashyapa was also the father of Manu, from whom came humans, the Manavas. Like Kashyapa, Vaishrava was another of Brahma’s grandsons. He fathered the race of Rakshasas and Yakshas, malevolent and benevolent forest spirits. (Narada Purana)
All jivas are distributed across three worlds: the earth, the celestial regions and the subterranean realms, all located below the abode of Brahma, Satya-loka, the realm of truth.
The three worlds are indicative of the three worlds every living creature resides in simultaneously. There are three objective worlds of all individuals: the private world, the social world and the natural world. Then, there are the three subjective worlds: the apparent world perceived by the senses, the imaginary world of dreams and the unconscious world of desires, memories and conditioning. Subjective or objective, every world provokes the jiva to act.
Significantly, Brahma never creates the three worlds. He merely populates it with jiva. God may observe and organize the world, but at no point does he ever create the world physically. Even the Upanishad presupposes the existence of Prakriti when it says Prakriti comes into being after Purusha splits itself from it. Essentially, the two are one. Two sides of the same one. Purusha never creates Prakriti. Both exist together and forever. Creation is awareness of the difference. Likewise, a jiva never creates its world: it is simply made aware of it. The purpose of life then is not to change what one did not create. Rather it is to explore this world, experience it, understand it and by doing so discover the truth about oneself.
Of all jivas, the chitta is most crumpled in the Asuras and least in the Devas. To indicate this the Devas are said to reside in a realm that is closest to Brahma’s abode while the Asuras reside farthest. In terms of degree of crumpling of the chitta, Rakshasas and Manavas are not as bad as the Asuras and not as good as the Devas. The abode of Rakshasas and Manavas is therefore neither below the earth nor above the sky. It stands in between. On earth. This is reinforced in the following story.
The Doorkeepers of Vishnu
The four Sanat-Kumars wanted to pay their respects to God who resides in Vaikuntha in the form of Vishnu. When they arrived at Vaikuntha, the doorkeepers Jaya and Vijaya did not let them enter as Vishnu was sleeping. The sages decided to wait. Some time later they approached the gates once again. Again the doorkeepers did not let them enter. ‘Because the lord is still asleep,’ they said. This happened the third time too. Piqued, the sages cursed the doorkeepers, ‘Because you stopped us from meeting God three times, may you be born three times. May you experience death three times. May you know what it is to be away from the presence of God for three lifetimes. ’When Vishnu woke up and learned what had transpired, he apologized to the sages. He then promised to do everything he could to help his doorkeepers return to Vaikuntha because they had only been doing their duty. The two doorkeepers were born as two Asura brothers, Hiranayaksha and Hiranakashipu. Hiranayaksha dragged the earth under the sea, forcing Vishnu to take the form of a boar, plunge into the waters, gore him to death and raise the earth back to the surface. Hiranakashipu tortured his own son, Prahalada, a devotee of Vishnu, for chanting the name of God, forcing Vishnu to manifest as the man-lion Narasimha and tear him to shreds. Hiranayaksha and Hiranakashipu were then reborn as Ravana and Kumbhakarna, two Rakshasa brothers who believed might is right and threatened all codes of civilized conduct. Their actions forced Vishnu to take the form of Rama and destroy them. Then Ravana and Kumbhakarna were reborn as Shishupala and Dantavakra, two villainous humans who valued personal ambition over social order. Their behaviour forced Vishnu to descend as Krishna and kill them. Death at the hands of God released Jaya and Vijaya from the Asura, Rakshasa and Manava forms and ensured their return to Vaikuntha, where they resumed their roles as doorkeepers. (Bhagavata Purana)
Jaya and Vijaya are Devas. As doorkeepers of Vishnu, they are closest to God. But a curse transforms them into Asuras and takes them far away from God. The flesh is impermanent. Hence both the Deva and the Asura forms of Jaya and Vijaya are impermanent, lasting only for a lifetime. The form taken in subsequent lives depends on events of the previous life. After living their life as Asuras, they become Rakshasas and live above the earth, indicating their chitta is not as knotted as it was before. In the life that follows, they become Manavas, humans, with greater unknotting. Finally, the original state of chitta is restored. Jaya and Vijaya become Devas and return to the doorsteps of Vaikuntha.
While God descends on earth to interact with ‘demonic’ Asuras, Rakshasas and Manavas, he does not let the ‘pure’ Sanat-Kumars meet him. This is because the purity of the Sanat-Kumars is not the result of wisdom: it is the product of ignorance. They have never engaged with the world. They have never known the flood of sensations or struggled with the tyranny of memories, desires, ideas and ego. They have never known the Goddess, either as mother, wife or daughter. They may be pure enough to reach the gates of Vaikuntha, but not worthy enough to see the sleeping Vishnu who is param-atma. To see God, they must act, respond to worldly provocations, suffer moral and ethical dilemmas and make appropriate choices. Provocation finally comes in the form of Jaya and Vijaya, who do not let them enter Vaikuntha. Response takes the form of a curse. Instantly a series of events happen. Narayana wakes up and rushes to the door. This story reinforces the idea that unless one lives life and interacts with the world the idea of God has no meaning. Without knowledge of the Goddess, there can be no realization of God.
After living out their curse, Jaya and Vijaya return to Vaikuntha as doorkeepers. But they stand outside the door, not inside, suggesting there is still some uncrumpling left to be ironed out before they reach God. The images of Jaya and Vijaya look very similar to Vishnu’s. They hold in their four hands the conch-shell trumpet, the discus, the lotus and the mace. But they are not Vishnu. Hence they possess fangs, a reminder of their demonic deeds and the remnant crumpling in their souls. The Devas may be closest to God but they are not God. Like demons and humans, their chitta is plagued with restlessness. They too seek the serenity of the param-atma.
Da
The Devas, who live above the sky and the stars in the celestial city of Amravati, were not happy. The Asuras, who live under the earth in the golden city of Hiranyapura, were not happy. Nor were the Manavas, humans, who live on earth, below the sky and the stars. So all three went to their grandfather, Brahma. Looking at their unhappy faces, Brahma said, ‘Da.’ What did that mean? No one knew. The Devas deciphered it to mean ‘Damyata’, which means moderation. Their craving for the pleasures of life had to be kept in check if they sought happiness. The Asuras deciphered it to mean ‘Daya’, which means compassion. Their desire to dominate the three worlds had to be kept in check if they sought happiness. The Manavas deciphered it to mean ‘Datta’, which means generosity. Their urge to hoard wealth had to be kept in check if they sought happiness. (Katha Upanishad)
The concept of different types of jivas inhabiting different types of worlds is an attempt to represent the plural nature of existence. No two creatures are the same. No two plants, no two animals, no two men or two women are the same. Every creature experiences the world differently. Every jiva is unique. But in essence everyone is the same: a Brahma sitting on the lotus that rises from the navel of Vishnu, looking for answers in three worlds. Hence the Vedic maxim ‘Aham Brahmasmi’.