Analysis
Today we’ll try to understand the story of Sage Bharadwaj from the standpoint of essence (tattva). But before that, a brief introduction to the Ramayana will be helpful. I keep repeating this introduction so that as we move forward, we don’t forget what’s important from earlier—so it stays alive within us.
We’ve talked before that the word Rāmāyaṇa means “the journey (ayan) of Ram.” What does Ram mean? We need to remember this constantly—until we complete the whole Ramayana. So I’ll keep repeating it in the introduction until it’s firmly lodged in us. I explained this earlier too, when we discussed the story of Nishadraj Guha. But since we forget again and again, it’s useful to repeat.
Rāmāyaṇa means “the dwelling/abiding of Ram,” and Ram means abiding in Self-knowledge—being established in one’s true Self; being situated in right knowledge of oneself; recognizing, “I am the conscious soul, not the body; the body is my instrument.” One who is firmly established in this understanding is “Ram.” Ayan means place or home. On this basis, the epic Rāmāyaṇa is a place where an amazing river of the glory of Self-knowledge is flowing.
Yes, as an epic it discusses other topics too, but those are secondary, not the core. The central theme is “Ram”—that is, the state of abiding in Self-knowledge and its greatness. In many ways the Ramayana expounds only this: the state and the significance of Self-knowledge.
What is the fundamental purpose of this Self-knowledge—of being established in one’s true identity? We need to know and understand that through the story of Ram. The core purpose is to carefully see, understand, and dissolve the impurities—lust, anger, greed, attachment, ego, and so on—accumulated in our own mind, our own subconscious, our own deep psyche over many births.
Why should I become established in Self-knowledge? That question naturally arises. If the Ramayana expounds Self-knowledge in detail, why should I be established in it? Only when I truly grasp the reason will I be able to make full effort. The core purpose is to attentively observe, understand, and destroy the defects stored in our own mind over many lifetimes. Without being established in Self-knowledge, this task is not possible. This is the principal aspect of the Ram story that we’ll explore gradually, one story at a time.
Before that, there’s an important hint: the conscious mind of a self-realized person is very different from that of an ordinary person. So it’s necessary and important to understand the conscious mind of a knower of the Self. The passages we’re discussing indicate what that mind is like: is it like an ordinary mind or different? The stories say it’s very different. To show this difference, the Ramayana presents a set of key stories. We’ve read the story of Nishadraj; now we’re reading Bharadwaj; next will come Atri, then Sharabhanga, then Sutikshna. One after another, these stories are presented precisely to reveal how the conscious mind of one established in Self-knowledge differs from that of an ordinary person.
First, through the story of Nishadraj Guha, it was indicated that the conscious mind of a self-realized person is friendly, servant-like, and knowledge-oriented. The story made this very clear: the Self-realized person’s mind is quite different from ours. What is our mind like? Our conscious mind keeps acting like the master: whatever the mind says, we do, because we’re still suppressed by ignorance; we’re not truly awake to who we are. Only the mind is “awake,” so whatever it dictates happens. Thus, the ordinary mind behaves like a master. But the mind of a Self-realized person behaves like a servant; it does as the Self-realized one directs. It leads one onto wholesome paths, beneficial for life. Our ordinary mind often does not lead us rightly; it misleads and we go astray. So, through the Nishadraj story it was shown that the conscious mind of a Self-realized person is friendly, servant-like, and of the nature of knowledge—symbolized by Ram meeting Nishadraj Guha.
In the same way, through the second story—Sage Bharadwaj—it’s shown that the conscious mind of one established in Self-knowledge is not limited to bookish or theoretical knowledge; it is not dry. What is it like? The Self-realized person’s mind brings every drop of knowledge into conduct. In other words, it becomes practice-oriented. An ordinary person’s mind is not conduct-oriented. We may talk a lot about knowledge, teach it to others, and keep reading it—but we don’t bring it into behavior much. Why not? Because “I” am absent—the doer, the soul, the owner of this body-instrument is not yet present. Only when that Self becomes present will we bring knowledge into conduct.
In the story, Ram’s meeting with Bharadwaj indicates the Self-realized person’s meeting with their own practice-oriented mind. See how symbolically it’s hidden: “Ram met Bharadwaj.” We think Ram is one person and Bharadwaj another—but what’s being indicated is that the Ram-like Self-realized person is meeting his own conduct-oriented mind, seeing what his mind is like. So the conscious mind of one established in Self-knowledge brings every point of knowledge into behavior; life becomes practice-driven. That is the essence of Bharadwaj Muni in one line. I’ve put it up front so that, as we discuss symbols, the central point of this story stays clear.
Now let’s try to understand the Bharadwaj story and its symbols one by one. We read it in detail in Ayodhya Kanda, so I’ll just give a brief recap:
When Ram, with Lakshman and Sita, set out from Ayodhya for the forest, he first met his friend Nishadraj Guha, and then reached Sage Bharadwaj’s hermitage at Prayag, at the confluence of the Ganga and Yamuna. Bharadwaj, seated among deer, birds, and sages, welcomed Ram with food and drink, saying he had long awaited their arrival. He requested Ram to stay at the hermitage, but Ram did not accept, choosing a secluded place away from people. So Bharadwaj directed him to dwell on the supremely holy Mount Chitrakoot, rich in sweet fruits and roots, inhabited by many creatures—deer, langurs, monkeys, bears, elephants, kinnaras, cuckoos, serpents, peacocks—and by sages. He said that by beholding the peaks of Chitrakoot one gains the fruit of virtuous deeds and loses taste for sin. He also instructed the path: Ram would have to cross the Yamuna—turned back against its own flow by the mighty current of the Ganga—to reach Chitrakoot. Accordingly, Ram reached Chitrakoot, and Lakshman built a leaf-hut there.
Now, all these stories are symbolic. How is this narrative symbolic? Let’s see.
First symbol: Bharadwaj Muni. If we understand Bharadwaj, the rest becomes easy. The word Bharadwaj comes from two parts: bharat (to fill) and vāj (power of action). Vāj is a Vedic term; in the Vedas, three “brothers” are mentioned—ṛbhu, vibhu, and vāj: ṛbhu symbolizes the power of knowledge, vibhu the power of feeling, and vāj the power of action. Muni points to manas—the mind. So Bharadwaj means “one who fills knowledge with the power of action,” i.e., who brings knowledge into conduct. Thus, Bharadwaj Muni signifies the mind that does not keep knowledge confined to knowledge, but translates it into behavior.
“Ram went to Bharadwaj’s hermitage” means Ram looked at his own conscious mind: what is it like? He saw, “My mind no longer stops at knowledge—it brings knowledge into conduct.” When we become established in our true Self, our mind starts pouring every drop of knowledge into behavior. So Bharadwaj Muni is the mind that infuses knowledge with action—the practice-oriented mind.
Second symbol: The hermitage is at the confluence of the Ganga and Yamuna. In the mythic literature, Ganga symbolizes knowledge and Yamuna symbolizes action/conduct. Saying Bharadwaj lives at their confluence is another way of defining him: he is the mind where knowledge and action meet—knowledge brought into action.
Third symbol: The hermitage is in Prayag. Split it as pra + yāg. The prefix pra conveys “special/excellent,” as in prakriti (special creation) or prācārya (distinguished teacher). Yāg comes from the root yaj, meaning sacrifice/act done knowingly—action joined with knowledge becomes yajña. Thus Prayag means “actions made special by knowledge.” Saying Bharadwaj dwells in Prayag again points to a conduct-oriented mind where knowledge and action are integrated.
Fourth symbol: Bharadwaj sits among deer, birds, and sages. Here deer (mṛga) comes from the root meaning “to seek, to explore,” so it signifies investigative thoughts. Birds signify high-flying noble thoughts moving in the sky of the mind. Sages (ṛṣi) signify exalted, refined thoughts. Thus, the practice-oriented mind is surrounded by inquiry, lofty ideas, and noble resolves.
Fifth symbol: It’s said Bharadwaj had long awaited Ram and offered him food and drink on arrival. The meaning: until a person recognizes their true Self, they cannot bring knowledge into conduct. So the conduct-oriented mind “waits” for that recognition. Offering “food/juice” to Ram indicates the deep satisfaction we feel when we actually apply even a small bit of knowledge in daily situations; it nourishes us within.
Sixth symbol: Bharadwaj directs Ram to dwell on Mount Chitrakoot. Chitrakoot splits into chitra (veiled form of chitta, the inner psyche) and kūṭa (complex, knotty). It points to our complex, layered subconscious, made intricate by samskaras gathered over many births. Calling it a mountain indicates the piled-up heap of samskaras—layer upon layer forming a high mass. “Dwell on Chitrakoot” means: the prime purpose of Self-knowledge is to contemplate one’s own chitta—to see, understand, and dissolve the impressions and defects stored there. The conduct-oriented mind impels the Self-realized person to do exactly this. An ordinary mind, not oriented to practice, doesn’t pay attention to the chitta; we stay entangled in tasks and keep blaming others. But once the mind becomes practice-oriented, the first priority becomes: attend to your chitta, watch what samskaras are surfacing, see which defects keep leaping up to the conscious mind and troubling you.
It’s also said Chitrakoot is rich in “phala (fruit) and mūla (root).” Here phala signifies effects/results and mūla causes. This indicates that our deep psyche holds samskaras of both kinds: some formed by past actions (now ready to bear fruit), and others being formed now by current actions (the causes of future results).
It’s further said that many animals, birds, and sages dwell on Chitrakoot. This hints that our chitta contains five types of samskaras: (1) those acquired over many births; (2) those received from parents; (3) those absorbed from environment; (4) those formed by our own resolves and thoughts; and (5) the innate virtues of the soul—peace, love, bliss, etc. Some samskaras bind (animals—pasha/pashu—binding), and some liberate (sages—noble samskaras). Thus, “animals, birds, and sages” symbolize the mix present within.
Another statement: “By beholding the peaks of Chitrakoot one gains the fruit of virtue and loses taste for sin.” Literally climbing any mountain won’t do this, of course. Symbolically, when a person truly understands that repeated actions leave impressions on the chitta, and that these samskaras inevitably bear fruit, this is like beholding the “summit” of knowledge about the chitta. With that clarity, one naturally avoids wrong action and turns toward right action. When good comes, one doesn’t become arrogant; when adverse results come, one recognizes, “This is of my own making,” and refrains from sinful tendencies.
A very important, slightly difficult point comes next. To reach Chitrakoot, Bharadwaj tells Ram to cross the Yamuna—the Yamuna that had turned back against its own flow due to the powerful current of the Ganga. Since Yamuna symbolizes action and Ganga symbolizes knowledge, “crossing the Yamuna” means: even while performing noble actions, one must attend to the chitta. Even in service or good deeds, reactive thoughts—anger, hurt, resistance—can surge up from the chitta and overpower the mind. So to remain free of defects while doing good works, attention to the chitta is essential—possible only when one recognizes one’s true Self and starts applying knowledge in conduct.
The second part—Yamuna reversing course under the force of the Ganga—teaches that in the company of knowledge, the direction of action changes. Joined with knowledge, our actions shift from self-interest to the welfare of others. Knowledge moves action.
These are the key symbols in the Bharadwaj story. In brief, the essence is this: the practice-oriented mind—which brings knowledge into conduct—arises only in the state of Self-knowledge. Ram’s meeting with Bharadwaj is the meeting of our knowledge with our action. And this conduct-oriented mind is what urges the Self-realized person to contemplate the chitta. Hence, two things are to be done: become established in Self-knowledge so that we gain mastery over the chitta, and then steadily apply knowledge in action so that our attention naturally turns inward to see and cleanse the chitta.
In the narrative: Ram goes to Bharadwaj’s hermitage; Bharadwaj sits amidst birds, animals, and sages; he invites Ram to rest, but Ram chooses to go on; Bharadwaj directs him to Chitrakoot via the Yamuna; Ram crosses the Yamuna, reaches Chitrakoot—where animals, birds, and sages dwell—and there Lakshman builds a “leaf-hut.”
One last word about that parṇa-śālā (leaf-hut). Here it is not a literal hut of leaves. In many places, scriptural language disguises terms. Parṇaśālā is actually paṇa-śālā—remove the inserted r. Pa conveys dealing/transaction/behavior. So paṇa-śālā means a place of ongoing exchange. Our exchange with the chitta is constant—what we do goes in; what’s within rises up. That ceaseless transaction is symbolically called “building a hut on Chitrakoot.”
These points won’t stick in one hearing; we’ll repeat them so they settle within. Do listen repeatedly—because these are matters of practice and life. I’ll stop here. I’ve placed before you the essential, tattva-oriented points of Sage Bharadwaj’s story.