Bhagavad Gita: Chapter 1, Verse 28-29

अर्जुन उवाच |
दृष्ट्वेमं स्वजनं कृष्ण युयुत्सुं समुपस्थितम् || 28||
सीदन्ति मम गात्राणि मुखं च परिशुष्यति |
वेपथुश्च शरीरे मे रोमहर्षश्च जायते || 29||

arjuna uvācha
dṛiṣhṭvemaṁ sva-janaṁ kṛiṣhṇa yuyutsuṁ samupasthitam
sīdanti mama gātrāṇi mukhaṁ cha pariśhuṣhyati
vepathuśh cha śharīre me roma-harṣhaśh cha jāyate

arjunaḥ uvācha—Arjun said; dṛiṣhṭvā—on seeing; imam—these; sva-janam—kinsmen; kṛiṣhṇa—Krishna; yuyutsum—eager to fight; samupasthitam—present; sīdanti—quivering; mama—my; gātrāṇi—limbs; mukham—mouth; cha—and; pariśhuṣhyati—is drying up; vepathuḥ—shuddering; cha—and; śharīre—on the body; me—my; roma-harṣhaḥ—standing of bodily hair on end; cha—also; jāyate—is happening;

Translation:

Arjuna said: O Krishna, at the sight of these my kinsmen, assembled here eager to give battle, my limbs fail and my mouth is parched. My body is shaken and my hair stands on end.

Arjuna describes the miserable state to which he had been reduced by his excessively soft feelings for his relations.

Arjuna said, “Krishna, at the sight of these kinsmen arrayed for battle, my limbs give way, and my mouth is parched. A shiver runs through my body, and my hair stands on end.”

With these words, Arjuna intends to convey that the indiscriminate slaughter of the fighters in the great war would have horrific consequences for both sides. He knew that the warriors before him—young and old, dear uncles, cousins, relations, and friends—would all walk into the jaws of death. The realization of this fact produced such deep pity, fear, and compassion in his heart that it physically manifested as trembling limbs and hair standing on end.
Sanjaya now describes Arjuna’s reaction after observing the warriors in both armies. Seeing all those relations present there, Arjuna was overcome with deep compassion and uttered words of sadness. The preceding verses mentioned Arjuna’s uncles, grand-uncles, and other relations standing in both armies. However, there were other relations like his wife’s brothers—Dhrishtadyumna, Shikhandi, and Suratha—and his sister’s husbands like Jayadratha, and others related to him in various ways. Sanjaya refers to all of them when he says, “all relations present there.”

Seeing all his near and dear ones arrayed for battle, Arjuna felt a deep compassion, a sentiment contrary to the mindset of a warrior. This compassion was born out of excessive attachment and tenderness, leading to a moment of internal conflict. Under this influence, Arjuna forgot his inherent nature—the manliness of a Kshatriya—which is why Sanjaya refers to him as “filled with compassion.”

The term “Idam,” meaning “these words,” refers to all the words Arjuna uttered in the verses beginning with the next and ending with verse 46 of this chapter.

Arjuna saw only his paternal uncles, grandfathers, teachers, brothers, sons, grandsons, peers, fathers-in-law, and friends—his relatives in both armies. Seeing them ready for battle, Arjuna felt great pity and said to Krishna, “O Krishna, seeing these sons, grandsons, and other relatives gathered here, desiring to fight, my body is becoming weak, my mouth is dry, my body is trembling, and I am groaning with fear and sorrow.”

Arjuna’s distress was not due to his aversion to war or violence. His entire life had been dedicated to the rituals and teachings of warfare. However, it is important to understand that the more violent the mind, the more affectionate it can be. Violence and love coexist, and the non-violent mind can even become detached from love.

In truth, one who seeks non-violence must relinquish the sense of “mine.” The emotion of “mine” is violence because as soon as we claim something as ours, we begin to separate ourselves from what is not ours. When we call someone a friend, we inadvertently create an enemy. Drawing boundaries around what is “mine” also creates boundaries with others, leading to violence.
Arjuna’s distress stemmed from his deep attachments. His entire life had been intertwined with these relationships, and the thought of destroying them in battle was unbearable. He realized that the violence of war was not just about killing enemies; it was also about the emotional destruction that came with severing these bonds.

Krishna observed Arjuna’s state and understood that his compassion was rooted in attachment rather than true non-violence. Arjuna’s inner conflict was not about rejecting violence itself but about the pain of losing his loved ones. His identity was so closely tied to these relationships that he felt his own existence would lose its meaning if they were gone.

Arjuna’s sadness was not a result of a newfound aversion to war or violence. It was the deep attachment to his loved ones that made him hesitate. If those standing before him had been strangers, he would not have faltered. But seeing his own people, the people he cared about, made him question the very foundation of his life as a warrior.

Krishna then began to guide Arjuna towards a deeper understanding of duty and detachment. He helped Arjuna see beyond his attachments and recognize the importance of fulfilling his responsibilities as a warrior, without being swayed by personal emotions.

The Bhagavad Gita’s teachings, delivered by Krishna in this moment of Arjuna’s despair, go beyond the immediate context of the battlefield. They address the universal human condition—our struggle with attachments, our duties, and the conflicts that arise when these two come into opposition. Krishna’s guidance to Arjuna is a lesson in finding balance, in understanding the deeper truths of life, and in performing one’s duty with clarity and purpose, without being clouded by personal attachments.

Arjuna saw only paternal uncle, grandfather, teacher, uncle, brother, son, grandson, peer, father-in-law, friend, all relatives in both armies. Seeing all those brothers and sisters ready for the battle, Arjuna felt great pity for them. He said this to God in dismay. Arjuna said: O Krishna, seeing these sons and grandsons and other relatives present with the desire to fight, my body is becoming relaxed, my mouth is dry, my body is trembling, I am groaning with fear and sorrow.
Arjuna is not suffering from war, nor is he anti-war. He also has no distaste regarding violence. His whole life’s teaching, his whole life’s ritual, is for violence and war. But, it is like understanding that the more violent the mind, the more affectionate the mind. Violence and love live side by side. The non-violent mind becomes outside even love.
In fact, one who wants to be non-violent has to give up the sense of me. My emotion is violence. Because as soon as I say mine, that which is not mine begins to separate. As soon as I call someone a friend, I start to create an enemy. As I draw the boundaries of my own, I also draw the boundaries of strangers. All violence, arises from the boundary drawn between ourselves and others.
So Arjuna became relaxed. His limbs relaxed. Not because he detached himself from the war; Not because he saw anything bad in the violence that occurred; Not because some accidental attraction to non-violence was born in his mind; Rather, it was because the other aspect of violence itself, the deeper aspect of violence itself, the basic foundation of violence itself, took hold of his mind from within him–mamtva took hold of his mind.
Attachment is violence. If you don’t understand this, then it will be difficult to understand the entire Gita. Those who could not understand this, feel that Arjun was inclined towards non-violence, but Krishna inclined him towards violence! Krishna will not want to make someone who is inclined towards non-violence towards violence. Even if Krishna wants to make someone who is inclined towards non-violence, he will not be able to make him inclined towards violence.
But Arjun is not inclined towards non-violence even a bit. Arjun’s mind has got stuck on the deep foundation of violence. That is the foundation of violence. He could see his own people–loved ones, relatives. If only! There were no loved ones and relatives there, then Arjun could have slaughtered people like sheep and goats. They were his own, so he found it difficult to slaughter. If they were strangers, he would not have found it difficult to slaughter.
And non-violence is born only in the mind of one whose own and stranger has been erased. Arjuna, the mind of this person who was in trouble, was not attracted towards non-violence, but it was because of reaching the root of violence. Naturally, in such a moment of crisis, in such a moment of crisis, the basic foundation of violence was revealed to Arjuna. If they were strangers, Arjuna would not have known that he was violent; he would not have known that he had done something wrong; he would not have known that war was adharmic. His body would not have become weak, rather his body would have become more taut on seeing strangers. An arrow would have come on his bow; a sword would have come in his hand. He would have been very happy.
But he suddenly became sad. In this sadness, he saw the basic foundation of violence in his mind. He saw it, in this moment of crisis, he saw attachment!
It is a matter of great surprise that often we are able to see the depths of our mind only in moments of crisis. In ordinary moments, we are not able to see the depths of the mind. In ordinary moments, we live ordinary lives. In extraordinary moments, what is hidden deep within us begins to appear.
Arjuna saw, my people! The horror of war, the proximity of war, just when the war was about to start, then he saw, my people!
If only Arjuna had said, war is futile, violence is futile, then the book of Gita would not have been written. But he said, my own people are gathered; my limbs become weak at the thought of killing them. Actually, it is quite natural for a person who has built the edifice of his life on his own people to become weak at the moment of killing them.
Death happens in the neighbourhood, it does not touch the heart! We say, the poor man has died. When it happens in the home, then we cannot get over it by saying this. Then it touches. Because when it happens in the home, someone of our own dies, then we also die. A part of us also dies. We also had an investment in that man. We also had invested something in him. We also got something from his life. That man had filled some corner of our heart too.
When a wife dies, it is not only the wife who dies, the husband also dies. The truth is that the husband was born along with the wife, there was no husband before him. When a wife dies, the husband also dies. When a son dies, the mother also dies; because the mother was not a mother before the son, the mother came into being with the birth of the son. When a son is born, on one hand the son is born, on the other hand the mother is also born. And when a son dies, on one hand the son dies, on the other hand the mother also dies. We are connected to those whom we call our own, we also die.
When Arjun saw that all his own people were together, it is not surprising if Arjun saw his own suicide. Arjun was not afraid of the death of others; Arjun was afraid of the possibility of suicide. He felt, if all his own people die, how will I survive!
This is worth thinking a little. Our I is the name of the sum of our own people. What we call I is the name of the sum of mine. If all of me were to leave, I would be lost. I cannot survive. This I, to some extent, is connected to my father, to my mother, to my son, to my friend–all of them. The
surprising thing is that it is not only connected to those whom we call our own, it is also connected to those whom we call strangers–outside the circle–but it is connected to them as well. So when my enemy dies, I die a little. Because I will not be able to be the same again, who I was when my enemy was there. The enemy also gave something to my life. He was my enemy, will be my enemy, but he was my enemy. My I was connected to him as well. Without him I will again become incomplete and empty. If
Arjuna had thought that others would be killed, it would have been a different matter. Arjuna saw deep inside that I have become eager to commit suicide; it is I who will die. If I die, what is the meaning of my existence! When I will not be mine, then even if I get everything, it is useless.

This is also worth thinking a little. Whatever we collect for ourselves, it is less for ourselves and more for our loved ones. The house we build is less for ourselves and more for our loved ones. For those loved ones who will stay with us, and for those loved ones who will see and admire, and for those strangers who will be jealous and filled with envy.
If I am left with the best house on this earth and my loved ones are no more–not even friends, not even enemies–then suddenly I will find that the house has become worse than a hut. Because that house was a facade, a show. Through that house I was impressing my loved ones and strangers. That house was just a system to impress. Now whom should I impress! The
clothes you wear are less to cover your body and more to catch the eye of others. Everything becomes meaningless when you are alone. You climb thrones not for the pleasure of sitting on them – because no one has ever attained any pleasure by sitting on thrones – but more for the magic and miracles that we can create by climbing on thrones among our own people and strangers. If you remain sitting on the throne and the people below disappear, you will suddenly find that sitting on the throne has become ridiculous. You will come down; then perhaps you will not climb again.
Arjuna felt at that moment that his own people were gathered on both sides. His own people will die. Even if he won, what is the purpose of victory? Victory is not desired for the sake of victory. Victory is the joy of the ego that will fill the mind of his own people and strangers! What will be the meaning of getting an empire? It will have no meaning. The
sadness that surrounded Arjuna’s mind should be understood properly. This sadness is of attachment. This sadness is of a violent mind. And it is because of this sadness that Krishna had to give Arjuna so many pushes. If a person like Mahavira had been in Arjuna’s place, the matter would have ended at that very moment. This matter could not have gone further. If a person like Mahavira had been there, perhaps this matter would not have even come up. Perhaps if a person like Mahavira had been there, Krishna would not have spoken even a single word to that person. There was no meaning in speaking. The matter would have ended.
This Gita was less said by Krishna and more made to be said by Arjuna. Its real author, writer is not Krishna; its real writer is Arjuna. This state of mind of Arjuna has become the basis. And Krishna can clearly see that a violent person has attained the complete philosophy of his violence. And now the reason for his talk of running away from violence is also the violent mind. Arjuna’s dilemma is not the dilemma of a non-violent person running away from violence. Arjuna’s dilemma is the dilemma of a violent person running away from violence. It
is important to understand this truth properly. This attachment is violence, but it is a deep violence, it is not visible. When I call someone mine, then possession begins, ownership begins. Ownership is a form of violence. The husband says to the wife, mine. Ownership begins. The wife says to the husband, mine. Ownership begins. And whenever we become the owner of a person, then we destroy that person’s soul. We killed him. We broke him. Actually we are treating that person not like a person, but like a thing. Now in the same sense in which the chair is mine, the wife also becomes mine. In the same sense in which the house is mine, the husband also becomes mine.
Naturally, wherever there is a relation of mine, love does not blossom, only discord blossoms. Therefore, as long as husband and wife claim mine, father and son claim mine, only discord can prevail between father and son, husband and wife, there cannot be friendship. The claim of mine is the destruction of friendship. The claim of mine turns things upside down. Everything becomes violence.
I have heard, a man has got married, but the wife is not very educated. He has a great desire in his heart that his wife should write a letter sometime. The husband has gone out of the house, so he has explained to her. She writes a little. He has explained to her what to write. All husbands and wives are explaining to each other what to write!
She had told him to write on top, dearer than life–this never happens–write below, slave of your feet. I did receive the letter from my wife, but I made some mistake. He wrote on the top, “Slave of your feet.” And below he wrote, “Thirsty for life.”
Those who do not write, their condition is also like this. Those who write correctly, their condition is also like this. Where there is insistence of ownership, we only create hatred. And where there is hatred, violence will come. Therefore all our relations have become relations of violence. Our family has become a relation of violence.
This is what Arjuna saw, if all mine will be destroyed then where will I be! And what is the meaning of victory, empire after destroying mine! This has not made him non-violent, otherwise Krishna would have blessed him and said, go away, the matter is over. But Krishna is seeing that he is completely violent. He is talking about I and attachment, therefore non-violence is false. If one is talking
about I and talking about non-violence, then know that non-violence is false. Because on the basis of I, the flower of non-violence does not bloom. On the basis of I, there is no development of the life of non-violence.