Why Our Scriptures Speak in Symbols: Story First, Insight Later
Question
We take birth—and because of Nature or Māyā there’s a veil of ignorance that gradually gets eradicated, and through that we become established in the Self. This is a step-by-step, gradual development. Alright. Thank you.
But my question is this: you’ve explained, word by word—niṣāda, Brahmā, and so on. After years of your work, these explanations have given us a new way to see. Still, it feels to me that most of our scriptures are in Sanskrit. Sanskrit itself is quite complex, and you also said some things were deliberately hidden—for example your explanation of valkala as “var-kara,” meaning “do noble action.”
Now, fine—we’re in your company, we’ve heard this fresh angle, and we’re trying to think this way. But for ordinary people, why don’t our scriptures just say things directly? Why present them in this indirect, symbolic way? Look at other religious texts—they state things plainly: “Do this, do that.”
Answer
This is the style of our scriptures. Our sages said that a person cannot absorb knowledge directly at first; the capacity isn’t there. So first comes story—even in the Upanishads many narratives are symbolic. At the initial level of consciousness, one simply enjoys the story and takes it in.
Over years—twenty, thirty, forty—or even across a prior birth—after reading and absorbing stories, a day comes when consciousness itself asks: “What did I truly gain from this? Are these words hiding something?”
When consciousness rises, attention goes deeper. Not all at once.
Take an example: the Hare and the Tortoise. For a small child, the story itself is everything—pure enjoyment. But when the child reaches class eight or ten, can he still enjoy it in the same way? No. His consciousness has grown; it questions: “I’ve seen tortoises—slow. I’ve seen hares—fast. This ‘race’ could never really happen.” Then he goes beyond the surface and asks, “Why was this story told? What is its purpose?”
When he reflects, the hidden teaching emerges: go slowly but steadily—don’t stop—and you’ll reach your goal. If I begin Valmiki’s Ramayana today and keep reading a little every day for a year, I will finish. But if I read like the hare—two hours today, then skip days and weeks—the goal may never be reached. That’s what the story conveys.
This is our tradition’s method. All our classics—Pañcatantra, the ocean of stories—are written this way: first read and enjoy; later, as consciousness rises, the why arises on its own; then, through someone’s guidance or divine grace, the concealed knowledge comes forth and one grasps it.
Direct knowledge, given upfront, is easily forgotten—like the moral behind the hare-tortoise tale: do we remember it without someone pointing it out?
Question
Right—that’s exactly what I’m thinking: we’re taught through symbols. But is there some single guide for ordinary people? You’ve studied and reflected so much—only then can you tell us why it says niṣāda instead of “hunter.” For common readers, the plain story is all they get. Isn’t it too hard otherwise?
Answer
Then read the stories and enjoy them—that’s perfectly fine until deeper understanding dawns. And if you want clear do’s and don’ts, we have nīti (ethics) texts too; you don’t have to read the śāstra (metaphysical scriptures). There is a big difference between śāstra and nīti works.
In other traditions, things may be stated directly; similarly, we too have many moral-science books. For example, Yājñavalkya Nīti—read it; it tells you plainly: do this, don’t do that. Manusmṛti also lays out prescriptions. We have extensive material on ethics.
But ethics goes only so far. Nīti doesn’t cover all of life. It lists some do’s and don’ts. The śāstra goes beyond that—into understanding the whole of existence, the Divine (Paramātma), and one’s own Self. That isn’t the scope of ethics texts.
Question
So other religions are shallow, and Hindu dharma is very deep—right?
Answer
Yes—that’s the distinction being pointed out.