How Do the Scriptures Explain the Origin of the Universe?
Question
There was a question: please tell us something about the origin of the universe. What do our scriptures say on this?
Answer
This question about the origin of the universe is very important, and it arises in all of us. We may not know much, but on a scriptural basis we can certainly say a few things. Indian thought has six main streams—you probably already know what I’ll say; still, it’ll be a good revision. From that angle, let me share.
The six principal streams of Indian philosophy are: Nyaya, Vaisheshika, Mimamsa, Samkhya, Yoga, and Vedanta—these are the Shad-darshanas. By “streams,” I mean the approaches that developed as our seers reflected on questions like: Who am I? What is this world? How did it arise? Why are we here—where did we come from and where are we going?
In the early streams—like Nyaya and Vaisheshika—people were still shaping their reflections. They say: just as a potter makes a pot out of clay, in the same way God made this world with the help of Prakriti (Nature). Another example they give: just as a goldsmith fashions ornaments from gold, God fashioned the world. A third example: just as a spider weaves a web from the saliva within itself, God, using the Nature-power residing within, wove this web of the universe.
These streams also speak of two causes in creation: the efficient cause (nimitta karana), the maker; and the material cause (upadana karana), the stuff used. With these two, the world came to be. They don’t go into much more detail there.
Later, when reflection advanced, the Samkhya stream offered further clarity. Samkhya says: the material cause, Prakriti, resides within the Divine (the Conscious Power we call Paramatma). The root Prakriti is the material cause; it is beginningless (anadi) just like God, and unmanifest just like God. This matters because our texts often say, “God created the world with twenty-four tattvas.” Samkhya refines this: God did not create the world using twenty-four tattvas; rather, root Prakriti—the Divine’s own power, beginningless and unmanifest—produced twenty-three tattvas. (I’ve understood this from the Bhagavad Gita, where this is described.)
Which twenty-three?
Five great elements: space, air, fire, water, earth.
Their five subtle potentials (tanmatras): sound, touch, form, taste, smell (sound for space; touch for air; form/tejas for fire; taste for water; smell for earth).
Five sense organs: eyes, nose, ears, tongue, skin.
Five action organs: speech, hands, feet, excretory organ, generative organ.
Three inner instruments: mind, intellect, ego.
That makes twenty-three. Samkhya says root Prakriti produced these twenty-three; through their mutual combinations, many composite factors arose, and from that the world emerged.
We can also look at this alongside today’s science. First, the very word jagat (world) comes from the Sanskrit root gam—“to move.” So jagat means “that which is moving, dynamic.” The Divine is the still center; the world is the moving circumference. Modern science says the moving stuff is built from three subatomic particles: electron, proton, neutron. Thinkers have noticed a resemblance between these three and the three gunas of Prakriti—sattva, rajas, tamas—since Nature is said to function through three strands, and science too describes three components in ceaseless motion. This is one reason Samkhya’s account feels significant.
Now, Vedanta goes further. Samkhya treats God and Nature as two—both beginningless and unmanifest. Vedanta unifies them: God and Prakriti are not two. The classic image is the seed and the tree: the tree is contained in the seed. If you split the seed you won’t see the tree, but it’s there. Likewise, the “tree” of the universe is contained in the “seed” that is the Divine. In today’s scientific language, this echoes “energy equals mass times c²”: consciousness and matter are not ultimately separate.
Now, the Puranas expand these six views in a very symbolic, poetic style, which makes them hard to grasp at first. For instance, the Bhagavata Purana describes Vishnu resting on the ocean of milk; a lotus stalk rises from his navel; on the lotus sits Brahma, who fashions the worlds. Brahma creates various forms of the world, dislikes some, and finally brings forth Svayambhu Manu; the progeny then pleases him. These are symbolic pointers, not easy to decode unless we really enter that style.
When I was studying the Bhagavata’s origin passages, I set myself a practical focus: rather than spend all my energy on “How exactly did the universe begin?”, I chose to ask, “Given that the stage is set and we’re already here, how should I live so my life becomes peaceful, joyful, and full?” All our scriptures teach this, and we can understand and practice it. So my humble request—even to myself—is: don’t pour too much strength into the mechanics of origin. The world is here; we are on its stage. Let’s invest our force in learning how to live well upon it. That’s why, as we read the Ramayana, we have focused on knowing the Self and living in the Self—so life becomes peaceful, joyful, and blissful.
I haven’t studied the “origin of the world” in great depth. I’ve only shared what little I’ve understood while reading—just that much, before you, today.