The Real Meaning of Āvaagaman: Freedom Through Self-Awareness, Not Escape from Birth

Question

Madam, what exactly is āvaagaman (coming and going)? What does freedom from it really mean?

Answer

See, the meaning most people take for āvaagaman—the cycle of coming and going—is actually quite misleading.

Generally, we think moksha or freedom from āvaagaman means: “Now I’ll be free from rebirth. I’ll leave one body, and I won’t take another.”
That’s how people commonly understand it — liberation from the cycle of taking new bodies.

But in my view, that is not the true meaning.

These words — “birth,” “death,” “liberation” — have been repeated so many times that they’ve become fixed in our minds, so fixed that we rarely step beyond them to see their deeper sense.

The real meaning of freedom from āvaagaman is not freedom from the physical cycle of birth and death.

Let’s understand it this way:
Suppose, in this very lifetime, I become established in the awareness of the Self — I realize deeply, “I am not this body; I am the conscious energy, the soul.”

Now, when I truly see myself as the soul, what is the nature of that soul?
It is eternal, imperishable, deathless, infinite, everlasting, unchanging.
That is what the word “ātma” really implies.

So when I am situated in the awareness “I am the soul,” then naturally all these qualities of the soul come alive within me.
I know — I am eternal, I am imperishable, I am forever.

Once this realization is firm, what happens?
Even if I take another body, I remain established in this same awareness — because knowledge never perishes.
It travels with us through our journey; it cannot be destroyed.

When this understanding settles deeply — that the body is temporary, perishable by nature — I fully accept it.
I no longer grieve over the body’s impermanence.
There’s no distress about change, aging, or loss, because I’ve recognized what is permanent within me.

So freedom from āvaagaman does not mean I will never take another body.
It means: Even if I do, I will remain established in my immortality.
That is how we should understand it.

You mentioned Shankaracharya — yes, there’s that beautiful verse:
“Punarapi jananam, punarapi maranam, punarapi janani jathare shayanam” — “Again birth, again death, again lying in the mother’s womb.”

Why did Adi Shankaracharya write such lines?
He wrote them to draw people away from attachment to the body.
He wanted to remind us of the body’s transience — to awaken us from our fascination with it.

These great sages observed people’s tendencies, their mental states, and composed such hymns to guide them gently out of illusion.

I remember — about twenty years ago, my nephew, who’s a doctor, once called me and said, “This verse by Shankaracharya — ‘Punarapi jananam punarapi maranam...’ — it’s the most meaningful thing I’ve ever read!”
Why did he feel that way?
Because until then, his entire life revolved around the body — its pleasures, its comforts, its importance.
Reading that hymn made him realize: “Why am I so attached to this perishable body?”
He felt gratitude toward Shankaracharya for freeing him from that delusion.

That’s the greatness of such sages — they look at people’s inner condition and write accordingly.
For instance, in another line Shankaracharya says:
“Kaa te kāntā, kaste putraḥ, saṃsāro’yam atiiva vicitraḥ…” — or the one that asks, “Till when will you stay caught up in grammar and word-constructions?”

He was addressing the scholars of his time — the grammarians and pundits — saying:
“You’ve made grammar and word-analysis your whole life’s goal! But skills are only tools for livelihood, not the purpose of life.”

So Shankaracharya wasn’t condemning grammar or art — he was reminding us that skill (kalā) is for earning a living, but life’s true purpose is to realize the Self.

When you come into Self-awareness, you become master of this perishable body — you gain control over it.
Then the causes of sorrow — the senses that keep running outward, the restless mind, the intellect trapped in ego — all come under understanding and control.

Recognize your true nature.
When you know your real Self, you understand the entire play of the senses, mind, intellect, and ego — and you can guide them consciously.
Then life runs smoothly, free from the fear of birth, death, or loss.

That is true freedom from āvaagaman — not the end of physical rebirth, but the awakening of unbroken awareness of immortality.