Bal Kanda
Analysis
This long narrative is essentially showing how Vishwamitra transformed from a Rajarshi (a royal sage) into a Brahmarshi (a sage of divine realization). It describes the stages and progression of his spiritual journey.
In the story of Trishanku, it was shown that Vishwamitra was performing intense penance to move from Rajarshi to Brahmarshi, but at that stage, his practice was still outwardly directed — bahirmukhi sadhana.
When Vishwamitra declared that he would send Trishanku “to heaven with his body,” it wasn’t about taking a physical body there. “With the body” (sasharira) symbolically means “with body-consciousness still intact.” True ascent to higher realms is possible only when the sense of identification with the body is gone. So, when Vishwamitra said, “I will send you with your body,” it indicated that his practice was still external, because he hadn’t yet transcended body-consciousness.
This stage mirrors modern scientific pursuit — today’s scientists too are creating what could be called “heaven on earth” through inventions and comforts. They have built an artificial heaven, but it is still outward, not inner. Similarly, Vishwamitra, in the story, created an artificial heaven and sent Trishanku there.
In our time, all material comforts and technologies have built such an artificial heaven for us as well. But even while living in this comfort, we cannot reach the real heaven — moksha — because our energy and senses are still turned outward. Bahirmukhata means the senses and the mind are focused outside. Until we turn inward (antarmukh), we remain in this artificial heaven.
So, the Trishanku episode shows that Vishwamitra’s spiritual practice was still in the first phase — outwardly focused. Trishanku could neither reach heaven nor stay settled on earth — just like us. We too are caught in between — neither free from worldly desires nor fully immersed in them. We wish for heaven, yet our mind and senses remain outward-bound.
After that, Vishwamitra’s penance continues, and the next story — that of King Ambarisha — marks a shift. Through it, Valmiki signals that Vishwamitra’s sadhana is now beginning to turn inward. This transition from the outward to the inward is symbolically explained through the imagery of a yajna (sacrifice).
In a yajna, a post called yupa is fixed in the ground, and the sacrificial animal is tied to it before being offered. But this is only symbolic. The yupa represents the individual soul (jivatma), and the animal bound to it represents the bondage (pasha) — the attachments and inner knots that tie us down, such as likes and dislikes.
To sacrifice the animal means to cut away these bondages — to free the soul from its chains. The story then raises a question: what exactly is this bondage that must be offered up?
Through the inclusion of Shunahshepha’s story, the text reveals that the mind is the greatest bondage. It is the mind that directs the senses, that pushes us toward pleasure and distraction. Therefore, the sacrifice we must perform is not of the body but of the mind’s impurities — transforming and purifying it.
In the story, King Ambarisha searches everywhere for a suitable sacrificial being and finds Sage Richika and his three sons. He asks for one son to be given for the sacrifice. The father says, “I cannot give my eldest son.” The mother says, “I cannot give my youngest.” The middle son, Shunahshepha, volunteers himself.
This is symbolic. In the Rigveda, the three sons are named: Shunah-langu, Shunah-shepa, and Shunah-puchha. The Purana simplifies this to Shunahshepha, the middle son, and Shunaka, the youngest. These three sons represent our three inner sheaths (koshas):
The two higher sheaths — the vijnanamaya (intellectual) and anandamaya (bliss) — are close to the Self, represented by the father; hence the father loves the eldest son.
The two lower sheaths — pranamaya (vital) and annamaya (physical) — belong to nature, represented by the mother; hence she loves the youngest.
The middle sheath — manomaya kosha (the mental sheath) — lies between them. It is here, at the level of the mind, that our spiritual work must happen.
Our mind is filled with restlessness and impurities. If we are to move toward the Self, we must purify this manomaya kosha. Thus, when Ambarisha takes the middle son, Shunahshepha, as the sacrificial offering, it means: the mind must be offered in purification.
Yajna is complete only when the mind is made pure. The scriptures often say, the mind is bondage, and the mind is liberation. The mind can imprison us, but it can also set us free.
When Ambarisha takes Shunahshepha, the story says he later meets Vishwamitra at Pushkar. Shunahshepha seeks Vishwamitra’s protection, and the sage asks his own sons to take his place, but they refuse. Vishwamitra then protects Shunahshepha himself.
This symbolizes an important realization: Vishwamitra has now understood that the path to becoming a Brahmarshi lies through inner transformation of the mind. To “protect Shunahshepha” means: the mind should not be destroyed, but transformed.
You cannot achieve realization by suppressing or killing the mind; only by transforming it. That is why Vishwamitra tells his sons — who represent his gunas (qualities) — to become the binding cords for the sacrifice, while he himself protects the mind.
In the Puranas, whenever the word putra (son) appears, it stands for a guna (quality or tendency). So Vishwamitra’s command to his sons means: qualities can be sacrificed, but the mind must be saved and refined. Because if the mind is transformed, all good qualities will arise naturally again.
Imagine you have a hundred virtues. If you lose them but purify your mind, those hundred virtues will return, even multiplied. Transformation of the mind — making it clear, pure, and steady — automatically brings every other virtue back.
This story thus marks a turning point in Vishwamitra’s journey from Rajarshi to Brahmarshi. He moves from outer struggle to inner realization. His focus shifts from creating external power to mastering the inner instrument — the mind. This is the second stage of his spiritual evolution.
In the first stage (the Trishanku story), he was outward-focused — creating an external, artificial heaven. In this second stage (the Ambarisha–Shunahshepha story), he turns inward and begins to purify and transform the mind.
The message of the Ambarisha story, therefore, is that to perform the real yajna — the sacrifice of self-evolution — one must not destroy the mind but refine it. The mind must be cleansed, not suppressed. The Shunahshepha story from the Rigveda was included here to express this: the true work of spiritual practice lies in the transformation of the manomaya kosha, the mental sheath between body and spirit.
Thus, this story marks the second phase in Vishwamitra’s journey — the inward phase — on the path from Rajarshi to Brahmarshi.