We’ve portrayed Dhananjay as a symbol of human attributes, reflecting the anxiety inherent in human nature, as Sartre suggests. Isn’t it only natural for Dhananjay to tremble at the thought of killing his relatives? His reluctance to fight, driven by attachment, was also in line with human nature. Like Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Arjun’s dilemma was the classic “to kill or not to kill.” Tilak observed a parallel between Arjun’s sorrow in the Geeta Rahasya and Hamlet’s state of mind—is this comparison justified?
Sartre’s observation applies perfectly to Arjun. Arjun’s crisis was existential. The existentialist thinkers of the West—Sartre, Camus, Unamuno, Jaspers, Heidegger—share a mindset akin to Arjun’s. Be mindful, for where Arjun’s state of mind exists, the birth of Krishna is possible. The West is engulfed in an existential crisis, with anxiety as the prevailing truth. People grapple with the questions: What should we do? What should we avoid? Which values are worth pursuing? Everything seems uncertain.
Remember, existentialist thought in the West emerged in the aftermath of two world wars. Sartre, Camus, and Unamuno are products of the same turmoil that filled Arjuna’s mind before the Mahabharata. The wars shook the very foundations of Western values, raising the question: Should we fight or not? What good is fighting if it leads to the death of our loved ones? In such dire times, it’s not surprising that peacetime rules are questioned. This is a valid concern.
Sartre’s mindset is strikingly similar to Arjuna’s. But the danger lies not in Sartre’s state of mind but in his belief that he embodies Krishna’s wisdom. Sartre is in Arjuna’s shoes, questioning and seeking answers, but the real peril arises when he stops questioning and begins providing definitive answers, declaring that nothing is right, and life is meaningless. He asserts that there is no God, no soul, no life after death—just chaos and randomness. This is where the danger lies.
Arjuna, on the other hand, continues to question. He seeks guidance, admitting his ignorance and looking to Krishna for wisdom. Sartre’s ignorance, in contrast, is assertive and potentially dangerous. When ignorance becomes outspoken, it can be more perilous than anything else.
Arjuna’s humility in seeking answers demonstrates more courage than Sartre’s assertiveness. In his deep despair, Arjuna continues to search for a way forward, while Sartre, despite his bold statements, lacks this courage. Sometimes, when someone emerges from a dark place whistling, it may seem brave, but it’s often just a cover for fear. The chaos revealed to the West by the world wars has left a deep void, with time itself becoming synonymous with death.
In Sartre’s generation, the West was filled with this emptiness. They had no answers, only questions, which they mistook for solutions. If Arjuna had followed this path, turning his doubts into definitive answers, India would have faced a crisis similar to the West’s existential dilemma. But the West still lacks its Krishna.
It’s no surprise that movements like Krishna-consciousness resonate in the West. The sight of young people singing Krishna’s bhajans in the streets reflects a deep-seated pain in the Western psyche. Arjuna is present, but where is Krishna? The question has been asked; now the search for an answer begins.
Arjuna, as a symbol of humanity, reflects man’s attachment and inherent nature. But as Nietzsche warns, “unfortunate will be the day when man ceases to strive beyond himself.” Arjuna is not the final destination but a stop along the way. Humanity’s nature, including its anxieties and sorrows, is not the end of the journey.
If we view man only through his natural tendencies, then these include not just virtues but also suffering, unrest, and even madness. From an animal’s perspective, man might be seen as an evolution, but from a divine perspective, he could be viewed as an affliction, a disease. The word “disease” itself, meaning “dis-ease,” captures this unease.
If animals could think about us, they might see humans as a deviation, a departure from the norm. They might even pity us for the troubles we’ve brought upon ourselves. But this deviation has opened up new possibilities, a grand journey.
Naturally, those who stay at home don’t face the same troubles as those who set out on a journey. The path is full of challenges—dust, potholes, mistakes, and detours. It’s an uncharted path, one that must be discovered and forged as we go. But it is those who walk, stumble, fall, and rise again who ultimately reach their destination.
Arjuna represents the natural state of humanity, but he is also burdened by pain. He doesn’t wish to remain merely human; he seeks something greater, a higher understanding, or to be lifted beyond his current state of being. His worries, sorrows, and pain are all part of his human nature, but he continues to search for answers.