Bal Kanda
Analysis
Last Sunday we studied the “Sagar Katha” from a spiritual lens. The key point was this: when we don’t bring knowledge into practice—when we keep it stuck at a purely intellectual or theoretical level—we end up generating hundreds of kinds of defects (vikār). If we learn “speak the truth” but don’t actually practice it, we’ll create the opposite defect—lying. Bit by bit these defects sink down into the depths of the mind—the subconscious—and collect there as saṁskāras, as seeds.
Later, those very defects that have gathered in the subconscious rise up to affect the conscious mind. And across future journeys—since the soul’s journey is continuous—they keep traveling with us and constantly act as obstacles. It’s not that the soul exists today and vanishes tomorrow; it carries everything along to the next leg of the journey. So, because the journey is unbroken, the defects we create keep accompanying us and blocking our progress. That’s why it’s absolutely necessary to free ourselves from them—to redeem them, end them, destroy them. Call it what you like; the story used the word “deliverance.”
Last Sunday we ended at precisely this question: how do we deliver the defects that lie in the subconscious as saṁskāras? The hint was: this isn’t easy. It becomes possible only when a person recognizes their true identity as the Self (ātmā), abides in it, and brings every drop of knowledge into daily conduct—into behavior and action. In the story this was expressed through Garuḍa: ordinary jalāñjali (offering water) cannot redeem the pitṛ; only contact with the waters of the Gaṅgā can do that. Here “pitṛ” means saṁskāras.
Now the story moves forward into the “Descent of the Gaṅgā” (Gaṅgā-avataraṇa). We’ve read it in detail, but since time passes and memory fades, a short recap helps.
After Sagara’s sons were reduced to ashes—and after Garuḍa’s instruction that ordinary water won’t redeem them, only the world-purifying Gaṅgā can—Aṁśumān returned with the sacrificial horse and reported everything to King Sagara. Sagara completed his sacrifice and then pondered how to bring Gaṅgā down. Even after long deliberation, he found no way and departed for heaven. After Sagara’s death, Aṁśumān also performed austerities to bring Gaṅgā, but he too was unable. Then Aṁśumān’s son, King Dilīpa, worried about his ancestors’ deliverance, but he also did not succeed. Dilīpa’s son was King Bhagīratha. He entrusted state affairs to his ministers and undertook severe austerities to bring Gaṅgā down. Pleased, Brahmā told Bhagīratha that the earth could not withstand Gaṅgā’s force, so he must first propitiate Śiva; only Śiva could bear Gaṅgā on His head. Bhagīratha did so, Śiva agreed, and held Gaṅgā in His matted locks. For a long time Gaṅgā remained hidden there, so Bhagīratha practiced austerities again. Then Śiva released her. Flowing on earth, Gaṅgā followed behind Bhagīratha. On the way, the river swept through the sacrificial pavilion of King Jahnu. Angered, Jahnu drank up all her waters. Later, at the sages’ request, he released Gaṅgā from his ear-holes. Then, following Bhagīratha, Gaṅgā descended to the netherworld (Rasātala); when her waters touched the ashes there, all the ancestors were purified and went to heaven. This is the account found in the Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa.
What does it mean? The story is wholly symbolic. It is not about the physical river Gaṅgā that rises in the Himalayas and meets the sea. Because we look only with a gross, external lens, we take it that way. But when we read with a subtle lens, the story points to the descent of the Gaṅgā of Self-knowledge—ātmājñāna. In the Purāṇas, “Gaṅgā” is a name given to supreme knowledge; here, specifically, to Self-knowledge.
We’ve been speaking about Self-knowledge ever since we began studying the Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa and the Bhagavad Gītā, and we must keep doing so. Once we grasp this story, we’ll also see why we have to revisit it again and again.
What is the simple meaning of Self-knowledge? Bear with me if I repeat it often—please keep listening. Self-knowledge means knowledge of the Self: “Who am I?” This is the first knowledge to gain; all other knowledge follows it. Not knowing “Who am I?” is ignorance, and from that primary ignorance all other ignorance arises.
A little more on Self-knowledge: I am a point of living light, seated in the cave of the heart (some say at the center of the brow)—ageless, deathless, imperishable; a conscious energy filled with peace, purity, power, knowledge, love, and joy. To know this and abide in it is Self-knowledge. Only after recognizing one’s true identity can a person see the body—gross, subtle, and causal—as an instrument, become its master, and guide it in the desired direction. Before that, we identify as the body itself. Only when Self-knowledge dawns can we truly govern our own body—just as a charioteer steers a chariot.
Mistaking the body for the Self—and then getting attached to body-based roles, positions, and possessions—generates a long chain of defects that doesn’t break easily. Only by recognizing our true nature and acting accordingly can we become free of that chain—exactly as the sages teach about Self-knowledge.
This brief outline of Self-knowledge must be remembered constantly; otherwise we forget, and the same problems keep returning. If we keep its meaning in mind, the stories ahead become much easier to understand. In this Gaṅgā story, Gaṅgā symbolizes Self-knowledge—that is, knowing “Who am I?”
Now, avataraṇa means “descent” or “bringing down.” First we must bring the Self-knowledge taught by scriptures and perfected beings into our thinking; then bring it into conduct and daily life. That is the descent—the “coming down” of the Gaṅgā. When we know ourselves as the Self and start seeing others through that lens, defects are destroyed, life is transformed, and its quality changes. Why must we bring Self-knowledge into action? Because only then does life actually change.
But how does this Gaṅgā of Self-knowledge descend into life and behavior? The story lays out a simple four-step path—presented through four generations—so it stays memorable even if the technical analysis fades.
Sagara’s austerity (step one).
“Sagara” parses as sa (seven) + gara (poison); symbolically, it means “with poison”—here, the “poison” of body-identification. Sagara represents the person steeped in ignorance of the Self. The first step says: begin seeking “Who am I?” while still under body-identification. Don’t wait for perfect clarity. Start now, as you are. That initial turning toward the Self is Sagara’s austerity.Aṁśumān’s austerity (step two).
Aṁśu means “ray” (of knowledge); mān means “endowed with.” Aṁśumān = “endowed with a ray of knowledge.” Practically, this means: keep planting the thought in mind and intellect, again and again—“I am the soul, not the body.” That repeated, knowledge-filled thought is Aṁśumān’s austerity.Dilīpa’s austerity (step three).
“Dilīpa” points back to the root dal—to split or break. This step signals the breaking of the old belief “I am the body.” If we keep inserting the thought “I am the soul,” then one day the body-idea begins to crack. That cracking is Dilīpa’s austerity.Bhagīratha’s austerity (step four).
“Bhagīratha” comes from bhag (supremely excellent; also effort or strength) and ratha (chariot). When someone mounts the chariot of the supreme resolve—“I am the soul, not the body”—that is Bhagīratha. In this fourth stage the conviction becomes rock solid.
Now, the story adds more around Bhagīratha. Brahmā says: the earth cannot withstand Gaṅgā’s force; first please Śiva, for only He can bear her on His head. The hint here is: every person is, in truth, Śiva-form—another way of saying “I am the Self.” We’ve simply forgotten it. When we re-remember our Śiva-nature—our Self-nature—and stand steadily in the conviction “I am the soul,” our very thinking becomes saturated with that knowledge. “Gaṅgā resting on Śiva’s head” means: our thought-structure becomes filled with Self-knowledge.
Even then the story says Gaṅgā remained “caught in the matted locks” for a long time. This points to a deep, obstructing belief stored in the subconscious: “I am the body.” Though new Self-knowledge arises, that long-formed body-belief—built over many births—hides it. Only renewed effort loosens it. That is why Gaṅgā had to be released again.
Next comes the episode of King Jahnu. Why was this inserted? Because it conveys a crucial step. As Gaṅgā flows, she sweeps away Jahnu’s sacrificial pavilion; angered, he drinks up all her waters. Then, on the sages’ request, he releases Gaṅgā from his ear-holes.
To understand this, look at the word “Jahnu,” derived from the root jah—to give up, to renounce. “Jahnu” signifies a purified, noble mind that has renounced body-vision and lives in Self-vision. Such a purified mind drinks Gaṅgā—meaning, it fully assimilates Self-knowledge. Until now, knowledge was in mind and intellect; now it is absorbed.
And why “released from the ears”? Śrotra (ear) signals śruti—inner, experiential knowing. The texts distinguish between two kinds of knowing: (1) sense-gathered, outward information that stirs noise in the mind; and (2) śruti—inner, experiential knowledge that brings peace and translates into lived conduct. Only this experiential, practice-based knowledge can sink into the subconscious and redeem the defect-impressions stored there. That is what the story depicts when Gaṅgā, released from Jahnu’s ears, finally reaches Rasātala and redeems Sagara’s sons.
So, the five stages are:
Sagara: Begin seeking the Self right where you are—even in body-identification.
Aṁśumān: Keep inserting the thought “I am the soul, not the body” into mind and intellect.
Dilīpa: As this continues, the old body-belief begins to break.
Bhagīratha: The conviction “I am the soul” becomes firm; thought is saturated with it (Gaṅgā on Śiva’s head), though old subconscious tangles may still hide it (the matted locks).
Jahnu: A purified mind fully assimilates the knowledge and expresses it as lived, experiential truth (śruti). That lived knowledge alone reaches the subconscious and redeems the defect-impressions—the “ancestors”—sending them, as the story says, “to heaven.”
In short, the Gaṅgā-avataraṇa is about us—not anyone else. It shows how to bring Self-knowledge down into ourselves so it frees us from our own saṁskāras. True “liberation” (mokṣa) means freedom not just from surface-level defects that we can drop quickly, but from the deep, subconscious ones. That is the real deliverance.